DEVIL IN THE DETAILS I

THE ART OF MASTERY

A MENTORING TRILOGY

VOLUME I

THE MASTER - THE SLAVE - THE POWER

By

LT Morrison

ltmorrison.author@gmail.com
 Copyright

Copyright © 2011 by LT Morrison

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

KINDLE VERSION

Published in The United States of America

First Publishing Date: 2011
Paperback Version ISBN-10: 1463603525
Paperback Version ISBN-13: 978-1463603526
 Dedication

To Wayne Innes, whose leadership and patience opened my mind to another way.
And to Jenny Hudson, a slave of the heart, whose love inspired.
 Inspiration

Every day you may make progress. Every step may be fruitful. Yet there will stretch
out before you an ever-lengthening, ever-ascending, ever-improving path.
You know you will never get to the end of the journey. But this, so far from
discouraging, only adds to the joy and glory of the climb.
Sir Winston Churchill
 Author's Note
She claims not to remember.
Many years ago, a dear friend and committed slave of the heart, suggested I write a
book on my niche of the BDSM lifestyle. To say she nagged would be unfair. She did
not. To say I came up with every reason not to is true. Over the years, others made
similar suggestions. Reciting a litany of excuses, I always declined. With the best of
intentions, friends put forth various reasons to begin the project. I was always armed and
ready with witty comebacks of rejection.
"There are lots of sources of information for the Domly-ones to learn," was my
favorite. "I'm not a professional writer," my most legitimate. "I have no time"; "No one
would read it"; "You need a spanking", was offered to the persistent. The compelling
reason to write, most often heard was the dearth of good quality resources for anyone to
learn the master-slave lifestyle, in a way that was both realistic, and produced a
sustainable relationship.
I have never been much of an internet researcher. Scanning BDSM web pages is not
my thing; though certainly recognize the introduction for many occurs through that
medium. Surely, there must be a wealth of information available to anyone pre-disposed
to our way of life, or so I thought. So, at the prodding of others, in their hopes I would
write, I looked.
Indeed, there is a wealth of information. Soon though, it became obvious, much was
vague and inconsistent, dealing only with the many aspects of living leather in a
superficial, or romanticized way. There were many very good "how to" technique
resources, involving the physical-play aspects of S&M. Practical knowledge on realistic,
livable, master-slave relationships though, seemed scattered, a little here, some over
there. Quite so it seemed, there was no single complete resource for a master to learn
about living power exchange, on a daily basis, in a consistent manner, in the real world.
So with that background, a shove from friends, and the time opportunity, what set out
as a series of web page articles about various aspects of the TPE, 24/7, master-slave,
same roof niche, evolved over a decade into this trilogy, on the Art of Mastery.
The trilogy did not start out as a dominant mentoring endeavor. That is just the way
the words flowed. As the first draft took shape, the tone and presentation became
obvious. These were books to help experienced and aspiring masters. Searching through
resources, it was clear that there were ample resources for slaves. Many write about who,
what, and why a person would choose a life of consensual slavery. But, there was very
little for aspiring masters to learn the art. So it began to flow.
The Devil In The Details trilogy is an extensive look into The Art of Mastery in
 unparalleled detail, focusing primarily on exploring the theory, and philosophy of an
master-slave life, and translating them into tangible, useable, real world relationship
skills.
Volume I "The Master - The Slave - The Power", is the critical theory and
philosophies that underpin a consensual master-slave relationship intended to endure. It
looks at mastery, slavery and exactly what power is all about in the TPE niche.
Volume II "Mastery Refined: The Skills - The Issues" builds on the theories of
Volume I. Mastery requires more than an understanding of power philosophies, but also
knowledge of the skills to identify and address issues incumbent with TPE relationships.
Learning them, adds enormously to the credibility of aspiring masters, thus enriching
trust, a critical element in sustainable submission. Masters are experts, and these tools
are large steps to acquiring that expertise.
Volume III "Sustaining Structure & Training" is where words become things; ideas
become action; and happiness is achieved in the reality of day-to-day life. No theory,
philosophy, knowledge of skills, or issues is worth a pinched nipple, if it cannot translate
into sustainable structure. Theory and talk is over, here is how to apply your values and
skills into a relationship of consensual master-slavery, 24/7, same roof, intended to
endure.
LT Morrison
 Acknowledgements
I want to thank and acknowledge many people, and to those I have omitted, my
sincerest apologies for an imperfect memory. It is not intentional and your
encouragement no less significant. First, thank you to Wayne Innes, my mentor many
decades ago and Sylvia his slave, an elegant lady. To Brenda, Debbie, Heather and
Kristi, thank you all, for allowing me to err and learn. Thanks to the many masters with
whom I conversed, learned, and traded secrets. There have also been countless slaves,
allowing me into their lives, to see who they are and how they are wired. To those
precious slaves too, go thanks.
To the four Laura's, Kelly, Brigette, Lori, the two David's, Michael, Chris, Rochelle,
Lynne, Heather, Judy, Beth, Kelley, Melinda, Cheryl, Kim, Katie and Tammy who all
helped proof the manuscript at various stages, offering wonderful advice. Of course, also
Theresa and Linda who kept telling me slaves would get something from this work.
Thanks would not be complete without a special note of gratitude to Jennifer in Texas,
who provided the needed push, and insight to refocus direction through the dry spells,
when my writing was pedantic. That she passed suddenly, before this project was
finished is a tragedy in so many ways.
To my siblings who think I'm half nuts, but are always there with support and love.
And to my parents, who taught me loyalty and faith.
Mostly though to my kids, who know nothing more than Dad is writing a book.
Thank you all. This project is so as much yours as mine.
 Introduction
I have owned slaves.
For over thirty years, I have had the luxury and privilege of studying, learning, living
and enjoying the leather lifestyle, or as is now commonly and generically called, the
BDSM lifestyle. There are many niches to live within the vast continuum we call
BDSM, and this book deals with the master-slave niche. It does so, because in that niche
is found, for some, a unique and exciting way to live with a woman. The lifestyle of this
book involves consensual slavery and responsible mastery. It is about defined, honored,
respected, and healthy control within the relationship. One partner makes decisions and
one obeys. They want it that way. It is very simple in its elemental form.
This is not a beginner's book, nor is it another 'technique' book explaining S&M acts
and skills. It assumes the reader has at least a rudimentary understanding of the BDSM
world.
Now, already the terms slave and lifestyle are used. Before running off to the
dictionary police in a dust storm of self-righteous indignation, wait a bit, exercise some
patience and read. Exploration of those terms comes in due course. Suffice for the
moment, to accept that consensual is the context; slave merely a term used throughout, to
reflect good things for many folks. Besides, it is sexy as hell.
The book focuses on the male dominant, female submissive relationship perspective.
Adding an introductory contextual disclaimer is not terrific literary form to engage a
reader, but to do otherwise would be inappropriate and convey a bias where none exists.
This perspective is simply where my expertise and experience lies, making any other
approach impossible. That many enjoy female superior and male submissive
relationships is equally valid and there will be no argument from me. Many of the
principles and techniques here are transferable to either genre, so please, take what
works for you.
After over a third of a century, it is fair to say, the journey leading to this book has
been of untold joy, personal growth, maturing, success, mistakes and yes, even some
heart wrenching pain. From long term, to medium and even one short relationship, I have
experienced and lived the lifestyle to the fullest.
The lifestyle tenets expressed here, represent the values I ascribe to in life. It has
been a path of peace and tranquility, of untold highs, of risk and reward. The energy of
living, its vitality, vibrancy and freedom from the mundane, mass-produced values
ingrained by society, has been my tool to build individualism, and a life of happiness. It
accommodates the human fragilities, instills and maintains romance and love; and all
with an unbridled open heart. One can be selfless and selfish, kind and nasty, innovative
and creative. The high school boy wonderment of life continues, while embracing the
 mature need for responsibility.
The master-slave lifestyle is one of peace and tranquility. It is elegant in its
simplicity. That said however, it is not for everyone. I understand that. In fact, it is for
very few. That the need exists in a small number does not invalidate those needs where
found.
Many in western culture would prefer that consensual master-slave and BDSM
relationships and in fact, the whole lifestyle not exist. Some will even go so far as to
harass in a variety of obtuse and subliminal ways. We are, at times, discriminated
against, mocked, ridiculed, and even prosecuted. So be it. That is currently their right
and it behooves us to educate those lacking the perspective we enjoy. However,
highlighting the quality aspects of how we live can be done.
It is our right to live freely and think clearly. It is our right to form relationships that
nurture love, care, and explore the entire human condition. It is our right to grow and
smile. We have a right to privacy without persecution. That our relationships are
different from conventional norms and reflect a paradox of empowerment does not
invalidate them. We are entitled to live the power exchange lifestyle. We harm no one, in
fact, quite the opposite. We flourish to our potential as individuals, from a foundation of
unique needs, often with a profound spiritual element, in a personal private relationship.
We neither try to dominate the world, nor submit outside the relationship. For many, it is
simply a relationship structure of happiness.
My philosophy of life, no doubt nurtured by a good upbringing, schooling, friends,
family and peers, cemented by life's experiences is simple. If lucky, we are blessed with
eighty years on this planet. Wasting twenty growing up and another twenty dying, we
have a middle window of opportunity. It is my ambition to sit in a rocker at the end, cane
in hand and say to my beloved slave…
"Pet, we have had a good life. We have done a lot. Some we liked, some we did not,
but we explored it all. We made good decisions and enjoyed the fruit. We made some
poor decisions and smiled through those times. We have laughed, loved and cared. We
have passed on our knowledge as those before us. I think we are leaving this place a
little better than we found it."
This trilogy of books acknowledges that philosophy and tries in humble ways to
explain the means to explore what for some, is a wonderful way to live.
These books are one man's explanation of the art of mastery, written to pass on
knowledge and experience, to others of similar needs. The anecdotes and stories are true.
They happened. Some literary license is injected where exact wording was forgotten, and
some characters embellished to illustrate a point and enhance the storytelling. Nowhere
though, has the literary license served to egregiously harm, or mislead.
To the slaves reading, my apologies. I am not at all sure you will get much from this.
 It really is a book focused on aspiring masters to reflect and build a vision for a
sustainable master-slave relationship in a livable, healthy way. I have tried to present it
tolerantly. It is not intended as a definitive blueprint to master-slave living. Even I do not
have enough arrogance to suggest that. But there are important principles at work, and it
all works… for me.
This book is the first of a trilogy. One book could not do mastery and the lifestyle
justice. Presented are the theories, philosophies and most importantly, the tangible tools
to make master-slave a sustainable reality, in a vanilla dominated society. The BDSM
spectrum of activities, commitments and emotions is huge. Ranging along that
continuum are inconsistencies and without context, there are areas where damage can
occur. The book looks at the spectrum, examines and addresses the issues, tries to
highlight inconsistencies within context; and offers a livable vision. Nothing would
please me more than, if these concepts and approaches helped one couple live happily, in
an enduring relationship of master-slave structure. That so works for me.
There are acts, approaches, conclusions, style points and stands taken, on the many
issues involved in BDSM. Readers will do this book and themselves, a disservice by
examining each individually, in stand-alone context. Examine each to be sure, but within
a framework you need to develop, or the context presented here. Even I, who live by the
consistent standards of the whole, can take individual pieces and shred anyone practicing
them outside a responsible framework, as abusive nonsense. Virtually any act in the
BDSM lifestyle can be enriching, or abusive, depending on many factors, and I have
taken the time to explain that where necessary. Of course, take what you want and leave
the rest, but examine the individual parts in context of the whole and the reality you
want.
Make no mistake though. This is an examination of the master-slave, total power
exchange, 24/7, same roof niche. Nothing more. Glossed over are top and bottom
relationships, the online experience, and long distance relationships.
Parts of this book, if not the whole premise of it, are controversial for many people.
That makes it worth writing in my mind. Good books are a source of knowledge,
inspiration, new perspectives, and entertainment. I sincerely hope to have at least in part
met that standard.
So please enjoy the read. I hope it stimulates and makes you smile. It was fun
writing, the intention always to be humorous and informative. Mostly though, I hope it
clears up much of the confusion of what mastery is, and how to live it well.
That long-winded introduction notwithstanding, all I really needed to say was…
Thought hard, wrote, edited, re-wrote, amended, discarded, started again, changed,
revised and finally got it right, an introduction that bespeaks of my intentions.
"Domly-Studmuffin with a pencil and paper… take it or leave it"
 Chapter I - In The Beginning
"A good master will make her a good slave...
Get into her head son..."
Understand what motivates her. What makes her purr...
Realize what you say is not always what she hears...
When you have mastered how a slave thinks, and understand her core need to
serve and obey…
When you really believe in those needs...
When you understand who you are…
What makes you happy…
fter having developed a vision, and learned you cannot control another without
first controlling yourself…
Then and only then can you begin to consider owning a slave."
Wayne Innes, circa 1979

And so with that sage advice, the journey began.

It started as fun, with a simple smile over wine, in my first apartment. A few years
from school, embarked on a career, adulthood had arrived so they said. With idealistic
naivety, full of energy and the exuberance of youth, the world lay ahead, to conquer and
bite. Self-sufficient, though of meager means, the wine that night was a luxury. With
rent, car payments, food and Soozi the cat, there was little money for extras. But, life
was full of promise and unending optimism.
We fucked and were going to again. She was a naughty devil, always with a twinkle
in her eye. We had been seeing each other for a few months. It was wild and eclectic; she
an aspiring radio hostess, while modeling hairstyles on the side. I was a young
businessman, set on making Donny Trump look like a two-bit hustler.
That night she arrived with purple hair, and thereafter remained so in memory. I
laughed and she laughed. We fucked, had dinner and laughed some more. Finally
nestling into my arms, relaxed, we giggled like the silly heathens who just invented sex.
Then slowly her hand wandered lower.
"The little imp" I thought and smiled. Rising slowly, she quietly whispered into my
ear, "Spank me please?"
Well, with those simple words, my world changed. A vista of exploration appeared,
and though unknown then, an opportunity for growth and peace opened wide, inviting
me in. Looking at her intently, the need in her eyes was as plain as the warmth in her
heart, and surprised me. She squeezed and stroked, and interest rose, her hand now
 redundant.
So I did!
Pulling her over my knee, she squealed and I growled. She squirmed and I slapped.
She was wild and I a beast. The apartment cave of the 1970's was the mountain cave
10,000 years ago. Our roughness grew, became primal, full of raging lust and animal
savagery. I ravaged her ass, she cried out in pain. I growled and roared, bellowed out my
mastery, and she submitted to an inner need, neither of us realized existed. We were
incapable of understanding, nor cared to. Now was not the time. The only matter was our
need, the brutality, urgency and uncompromising force. We were raw and open, and for
that night, set on abandoning social conventions. If the term politically correct even
existed then, we were not. I beat her ass raw and we fucked again.
Drifting off to sleep, sated and exhausted, she whispered final words in my ear,
"Tomorrow is my turn".
Awakening, we gazed upon each other, with shy smiles of disbelief. No words were
necessary to convey what happened. She snuggled closely; content, and I knew the world
was my oyster.
"Coffee, woman, now!" and I slapped her ass.
She yelped and jumped.
"With cream and look sexy bringing it", I commanded.
"Yes Oh-Mighty-Master" she cooed and we laughed.
Well fair is fair, equality of the sexes and all. That night was her turn. What the hell
did I know? Being young and horny, call it a brain cramp, call it what you may, but she
took full advantage. She spanked, I endured, and we came. It was a sex game after all.
Wasn't it? Perhaps not, for something awoke that cozy weekend, so many decades ago,
something deep in my soul.
The next workweek was difficult. Pre-occupied and unfocused, reflecting on our
debauchery, my work suffered. The sex was wonderful, but that was normal. Clearly
something deeper was happening that troubled me. I needed to identify it. Over the
ensuing days, thoughts slowly organized and two realizations became clear. I loved
spanking her, using her, being in control. I felt utterly masculine and alive. It seemed
right. She was mine to do with what I pleased. Shockingly, she responded. To our utter
amazement, she reveled being over powered and controlled. I had no understanding what
I was doing to her mind, or to the extent, this would change my life. I had no concept of
a power lifestyle; of structure, relationship visions, sado-masochism, submission,
mastery, or control dynamics. There was no inkling that she needed and loved it as much
as I, but from the other hemisphere. All I knew was that I never felt more energized. It
seemed natural and right, and I had to find out why.
 The second realization was clearer. Neither she, nor anyone would spank me again.
Why it did not work, is a mystery. It just did not. Perhaps it is our individual wiring.
Maybe it is what makes the world so interesting. We are all different and unique. But I
knew from the first weekend, while the word "switch" was still unknown, I was not one.
Yes, we had orgasms; we were having elaborate sex after all. But, there was no deep
emotional awakening as the night before. Even then, it was clear, the only switching
would be flicking off lights. Well, perhaps that and switching lanes while driving, but
definitely bottoming was for others.

Why The Addiction?

It is amazing why a man would undertake the work and responsibilities incumbent
with owning a slave? What insanity could overtake us in wanting to manage another's
life, even if only in part? Master's would all be certifiable to take on that workload.
Unless….
Kneeling quietly beside him was always peaceful. He was her Master after all. It was
her place, and she smiled inwardly. The intimacy of sharing time with special friends
was always precious. Coffee served after a sumptuous dinner, and now both couples
settled in to relax. About the room conversation flowed quietly. Peace existed in her
world, happy in whom she was, and the choices she made. Master loved her and she him,
each uniquely devoted to the other. They had loved from the moment they met and her
mind drifted serenely. Feeling his hand and the tightening pull of her hair sent shivers to
her soul, and re-focused her world. Lifting eyes to his, she froze. The words were clear.
She knew they would come…
From the Master's eyes…
He nodded to Patrick. Tonight it was time. Years of work and preparation,
foundation blocks of trust laid, and it all led here. She had no idea what lay ahead, but
she was ready. He knew in his heart. It would be difficult, but she would obey. So much
work completed. It was time.
The conversation slowed and stopped. A hiss and crackle from the fire and he
reached for her hair. She heard the words, he could tell and their eyes locked for the
briefest moment.
And in that moment life moved again. It was all there. The eyes!
The brief look and there it was, shock, fear, and disbelief. Time stood still and he saw
the transformation. The "questioning"; the "oh-my-god, it's real, he's serious"; the "I
cannot"; "I won't"; "I could"; "I must"; "I want to". The emotions all there, but for a
moment, and gone from her face, seared forever in his soul.
 Blessed, he knew nothing could replace the harmony of master and slave together.
And then she obeyed.
Time stood still that moment when their eyes locked. A slave about to cross a
threshold, entering a place she thought herself incapable of going. He, a man able to take
her there quietly, patiently, relentlessly, knowing it might work, it might not, but with the
courage to lead. A man dedicated to the unique needs of "us" in master-slavery.
Love, loyalty, obedience, trust, devotion, caring and leadership. That is why a man
will undertake the responsibilities of mastery. It is worth all the work, all the studying,
the learning, the effort, the questions and answers. These men are wired to control, to
share, to give. Nature, or nurture, it does not matter. It is who they are. And their reward
is that split moment when her eyes open to her soul, alive, free, energized and focused.
So, how do we get to the point where we have the knowledge and skills to evoke that
kind of dedication and loyalty in a partner? How do we earn the right to have a slave?
Where do we start?

How Do I Get There?

It was not long after the weekend back in the late 70's, spanking my hair model
friend that I began to explore if there was anything more. Was I just a kinky control
freak, sick and perverted, who liked to spank naked fannies, or was there more to this?
Resources then, were not as they are now. No internet, or electronic bulletin boards,
chat rooms, or kinky personals existed. A few novels were found, but nothing
substantive. There were some underground tabloids, many with page after page of
professionals hawking their kink. I had my well-worn copies of Mandingo and a few
other long forgotten novels, but nothing of substance from which to learn. Instinctually, I
knew there was something just outside my grasp, but what, was then unknown. Many
nights spent pondering that perhaps it was not more than what it had already been, a
great romp, good fantasy, and some sort of primordial need fulfillment, outdated in
today's society. I wanted to find out, needed to find out, so went searching. With appetite
whetted, the addiction to a way of life began!
It was soon clear, in the Toronto scene, the city of my residence, that if there was a
heterosexual leather community, it was so far underground, I would pass my burial spot
digging for it. If it existed at all, it was invisible. My hopes crashed. But being young and
energetic, and with bullheaded persistence, what was found, and not far from the surface,
was an active gay S&M scene. While not gay, or even bisexual, the need to see and learn
about what I now knew as S&M, or sadomasochism, had become somewhat of a passion.
The old Boots bar downtown, and another leather bar near the waterfront, long torn
down were the discreet hangouts for the gay leathermen community. Could I buck up the
courage (and yes, for a straight guy, it does take courage to enter a gay leathermen bar
alone) and walk in to see what I could learn?

Looking For Leather - Finding Gold

Life is full of so many ironies, unexpected twists, meetings of happenstance and

coincidence. Perhaps it is the Universe directing us to what we want, what we ask for,
directly, or subliminally. We have all experienced them. Some are good, some
disastrous. Miss Purple Hair's "spank me please" was one instance of a life altering
moment. One does not know it at the time of course, it dawns on you later. But, that was
one moment, and meeting Wayne Innes was soon to be another.
My little purple haired spanking vixen had moved on, presumably to bigger and
better things. I was alone again and somewhat addicted to swatting a girl's fanny. I had a
job and worked of course, and never once found myself suddenly off on a daydream of
flashing whips and rosy-bottomed women. No, it never happened… not more than a
dozen times a day!
Addicted and needing, I headed out to explore. It was fun. Now, we are talking the
ultimate vanilla guy here. Fresh off an education in a suit and tie, embarked on a career, I
presented as the perfect young gentleman entrepreneur. Ha! Little do folks know that
perverts and sadists come in all packaging.
Fascinated with my small dabbling into the S&M arts, I summoned the courage to
explore in the only places I knew to find it, the gay bars.
I did not own leather in those days. No sleek black leather pants, vests, or gauntlets,
and who knew what the hell a leather vampire glove was. Faded jeans and a grey t-shirt;
that was me. Throw on some shit-kicking boots and a black leather bomber jacket, and
presto, dom-du-jour
I had summoned the courage to visit the S&M bars several times by now. To say
they were an eye opener is to err on the side of understatement. They reeked of stale
beer, sweat, and like all bars, were dark. The beer was cold and the atmosphere
incredible. What I witnessed is another whole book and not particularly germane to this
one, though whom I met is very relevant. Do not let anyone fool you that Leathermen
have not trained in the fine art of S&M. If they did not invent it, they surely mastered it.
It was probably my third, or fourth enthralled visit. This night as usual, I plunked my
butt on a barstool, ordered a beer and swiveled to watch. Spotlights on crosses, the sound
of whips cracking, men hung by meat hooks, and literally dozens of male slaves in
underwear, or jockstraps, collared, or manacled, crawling on the floor, begging to lick
my boots. It was just another Saturday night in the big city. Now, don't get me wrong. I
enjoyed getting my boots licked clean and soon was not averse to giving the boy a good
kick when they finally glistened. It was natural even then, to endear myself to slaves.
The faces became familiar. In particular, one gentleman who was probably twenty
years older. He was there usually with two or three friends. What caught my eye is that
like me, they sat at the bar every time, never participating in the activities. They stuck to
themselves, though occasionally would chat with what I came to know as Leather
Daddies. They never spoke with the slaves, and that was odd to my neophyte eye. I
learned why later.
That evening the place was busy. There was but one seat available at the bar, and as
fate had it, I ended up beside the older fellow. Pleasantries exchanged and beer ordered, I
swiveled to watch another night of intense S&M.
His name was Wayne Innes and he was master of his slave Sylvia, master in the
practice of the leather lifestyle, a leader, a mentor and a gentleman. Over the next several
months we had beers, chatted and discussed the goings on around us. He was intelligent
and talking with him was always an eye opener. I might have even told him about Miss
Purple Hair, and what brought me to this den of corruption, sadism and evil doings, but
do not recall now. He was an easy man to talk with and ultimately shared his vision of
the lifestyle, its values and beauty, as my mentor. What brought him there was simple.
He was involved with a small group of heterosexual masters and slaves, who lived as
such in their daily lives. The gentlemen he brought were also masters in his group, and
they came to watch, and learn about intense S&M.
To my young eyes, what I saw those evenings long ago was fascinating. While it was
in venues with gay participants, transferring the skills on display to a heterosexual life I
saw for myself, would be a simple task. I had come there hoping not to have deceived
myself about there being more to the lifestyle, but fascinated nonetheless. I just did not
want it to be some giant mental masturbation game. Surely there must be more. Wayne
introduced me to more… much more.

Mind Fuck #1 - "The Billiard Table"

It was a first foray into public as his slave and she was nervous. Much time was spent
building to this moment. Years before, she was barely able to admit submissive needs to
herself, let alone someone else. Now she called that someone master. He was taking her
out in public, to a fetish club of like-minded souls. She could not believe this day was
even possible, but it was. She knew the day was coming, he told her from the very
beginning years earlier. Now upon her, she feared disappointing him. With all the work
done, he did not share her fear.
They were just going to visit, have a few drinks, and make a public slave appearance
 for the first time. That she was wearing his collar and leash scared her to death, but her
pussy was soaked. These slave needs drove her crazy at times, but she could not imagine
being happier.
The doorman at the club was small and powerfully built. Exchanging hellos, he
appreciatively eyed the slave.
"Pretty slave" he growled.
Master thanked him and moved to the bar. She followed, in step, the leash never
going taut and he was proud of her.
"Stand beside me pet. You can talk and watch freely."
"May I have a glass of wine please Master?"
He laughed.
"More like scared shitless. But I'm proud and embarrassed too, not to mention so
horny there is going to be a river down my legs in a minute."
"You are beautiful despite your potty mouth, slavegirl. Now sip your wine."
For the next two hours, she watched, absorbing everything, slaves whipped, different
protocols, the close camaraderie. Like a sponge, she soaked it in. Sitting on the barstool,
she stood nestled between his legs. He chuckled at her constant "OMG's"; "hey, you do
that to me"; the "Oh shit, I bet that hurt"; and the shuffling from foot to foot, a sure sign
she was wet and needing.
"Horny girl?" he whispered.
"Master if you do not fuck me soon I am going to rape your leg", she whispered back
in his ear.
He laughed reaching under her skirt. Indeed she was sopping.
"Lick my fingers pet."
Obeying, she blushed when the female dominant standing beside, cooed. She had
watched, lusting for his slave.
"Let's to go pet, it's time to use you."
"Yes Master."
The mistress beside chirped in.
"Pretty slave. If you ever want to share her, I am here every Saturday night", she
said.
"Thank you I will keep that in mind when she is ready."
 His pocket looked inviting and she wanted to climb in and hide. Instead, he stood and
she followed obediently mustering whatever embarrassed dignity was possible. Thinking
everyone could hear the sloshing between her legs, she wanted to crawl into a hole. Alas,
the doorman was still there.
"Now there is a slave that could use a good spanking", he said.
The master paused and the slave froze.
"There is a private room through that door. I would love to spank your girl."
Eyes lowered and blushing furiously she remained quiet. Speaking while leashed was
intolerable to her master. He looked closely at his slave. If ever there would be a
moment, it was now. The timing was perfect. With a week off to deal with her inevitable
drop, he decided to move forward.
He nodded, "Unlock the door then."
The room smelled of smoke and had the run-down look of seedy bars everywhere. A
solitary well-used billiard table sat lonely in the middle. He directed her over the table.
She remained still, terrified, and more aroused than ever before. The slightest movement
and she would erupt. Moving to the other side, he leaned over facing and staring into her
eyes. They had that familiar glaze, not from the wine, but from her heartfelt need for
slavery. It is where she was at peace. It is what enabled her to live this freely. A stranger
was about to see her ass, knowing she was aroused and dripping. With luck, shortly,
happy-happy land would be her reality. He took her hands and stared at her, their faces
not a foot apart.
"Look at me girl" he whispered.
No more words were necessary. Their eyes were talking. He didn't have to look to
know the doorman had raised her leather skirt.
"Very nice ass" and he heard the first slap.
Over and over they rained down on her cheeks. Tears formed in her eyes and
suddenly she tensed. He knew what was about to happen, with or without permission.
"Enough, leave us alone please" and the burly fellow disappointingly left.
Grabbing her hair and yanked her to her feet, skirt hiked high, he slammed her
roughly into the wall, grabbed her cunt, crushing her face to his chest. Her ass glowed,
eyes locked shut.
"Three! Now! Hard! Cum! Again! More! Harder!"
She exploded. The scream muffled in his chest. He held her up by the cunt. Crushed
against the wall in a public club, naked from the waist down rolling, intense, body-
wracking orgasms on her Master's hand, this was her searing reality. The world beyond
 the moment existed for neither of them.
She was silent for the ride home. Pulling into the driveway, he turned off the engine
and neither moved, sitting in silence. Reaching over and turning her face towards him, he
lightly kissed her lips.
"You are the most beautiful slave in the world", he whispered.
A tear came to her eye, a smile, and then she giggled.
"Fuck me raw like the slave I am. I love you Master."
 Chapter II - Mentored

Yellow Brick Road

Wayne's group was small, perhaps thirty in all, masters and slaves. There was very
little transience to it. By and large the membership, if you could call it such, was very
stable. Essentially, it was little more than a small group of masters, all friends with
common values, individuals who had a vision for their own relationships that
encompassed the master and slave dynamic. These men were very male dominant in
their outlook of life, personal relationships and their happiness. Would some radicals
label them chauvinists? Probably, but they would be wrong. In fact, a close examination
would reveal raging feminists, truth be told. There was no flamboyant testosterone, or
posturing attitudes, but rather a quiet confidence permeated each man, creating peace
within the group.
It was certainly an eclectic cross-section of society. Wayne ran a small business that
kept him busy. Others were motorcyclists, a banker, insurance men, a writer, lawyers, a
cop or two, the kid (that was me) and a partridge in a pear tree. As I came to know them,
I liked what I saw. They lived by a strict standard of integrity, adhering to their particular
Master's Code of Conduct.
But they shared another vital commonality as important as any to the success and
happiness of living a master-slave relationship. They shared a unique gift. This was not a
game to these gentlemen, nor as it turns out, to their slaves. Master-slave living was an
important part of their identity and their slave's identity. Not a game indeed, it was the
structural manifestation of whom they were, their core needs, and how they were wired.
When asked the most important knowledge they possessed, the answer was always the
same, always unanimous: the gift of understanding and believing in a slave's mind. That
was an odd statement to me with only a few spankings under my belt. At first, I was
puzzled and scratching my head.
These gentlemen studied, learned and understood a slave's mind as being the critical
component, integrating it into their vision of how to manage their relationship and live
their lives. The submissive needs within her permitted consent, and without that, the
masters could not live as they chose. The slave's core values created an opportunity for
longevity, and a sustainable master-slave relationship. That worked, if the master could
dedicate himself to his own values too.
It was not as some may wrongly conclude, an adherence to the slave's wishes,
resulting in a fundamental form of topping from below. Rather, it was an understanding
 of the power they held. It was respect of the enormous emotional and physical
vulnerability within a slave, when submitting to a man on an absolute level. Managing
that power and the incumbent responsibilities was an art form. Traveling that journey
included recognizing the slave as a human being, with feelings, needs and wants. By
doing so, he was then able to enjoy a level of service and dedication that was complete,
useful and empowering. It became their bedrock to enjoy all life had to offer, both within
and beyond their personal relationship. Why is that so? Simply because it makes both
master and slave happy, and they wanted it that way.
As importantly, knowing that power must be used to enhance the slave's core needs
of service and obedience, required the master to understand how her mind worked
differently from vanilla women.
That she is chattel and treated so at times, never shadows the core humanity of her
needs and soul. Nor does he want it to. To do otherwise creates a drone, a nonentity, with
no self-identification, or worth. Unable to understand the slave's mind almost always
leads down an abusive road, creating both the slave-as-a-doormat entity and an
unhealthy selfish dominant.
How she thinks, her goals and why she freely chooses a relationship of indenture,
service and obedience is important to these masters. They understand that what she hears
in a command affects her, and is not always what the master thinks he said. How can she
thrive in slavery while managing to fulfill the diverse dreams and goals she surely has, is
to understand her mind. These men understood the paradox of slavery and enrichment, of
freedom and submission and growth within structure. They know what motivations to
slavery are healthy and others crutches. They have come to grips with feminism and the
choices it enables, and that leadership is a synonym for responsible consistency to a
vision. They know this is a calling for very few, but for those embracing the tenets in
their hearts, it is a journey of peace and tranquility through life.
Meeting these men, I found the hidden road to that "something" felt months before
with my purple haired siren. Learning from them was to become my passion.
To aspiring masters reading with similar feelings and needs, learn well, it is a
beautiful way to live. To the slaves enduring this prose, hope springs eternal that the
importance of learning the slave mindset is not a lost art.
And why is all this important?
It is easy to have a slave obey in the beginning, more difficult as time goes on,
without a fundamental understanding of what makes her tick. Masters must examine
their own motivations and decide if they are interested in the selfish short-term, or a
relationship intended to endure.
After weeks of chatting in an obscure smoke filled gay bar, watching the practice of
savage underground S&M, Wayne had begun explaining there was more to what we
 witnessed. He mentioned his group and invited me to explore becoming involved. I
suppose in hindsight, he had seen something in me consistent with the values of his
group, though it was all a mystery at the time. It was a heterosexual group involved in
mastery and slavery as a way of life, and that was good enough for me. Accepting could
not come fast enough.
"Welcome to our home Sir. Please come in. My name is Sylvia and it is a pleasure to
meet you. I have heard wonderful things. Master is in the living room and if you will
follow, I know he is looking forward to seeing you again."
With those words, I had just met my first slave.
Showing the way through the house, the subtleties of her learned protocols were
completely lost on me. Leading me for the first time into the living room to a place
where, over the coming years, I would devour countless discussions, observe, learn, and
interact with slaves, Wayne greeted me warmly. Sylvia became almost invisible in her
movements. She had been his slave many years, and the care to detail taken with her
training, so very evident. Every bit an elegant lady, she bore a grace and dignity. The
aura and strength emanating from her presence was tangible, yet she was a slave. The
paradox to my young eyes was confusing and exotic. So, thus began my education in the
art of mastery.

Rules Of The Group

"To enjoy our group you need to understand what it is we do, who we are and our
purpose. If you have the self-discipline to learn the art of mastery, you and ultimately
your slave will thrive and be happy."
There was to be no mistaking what this group was about, right from the outset, the
purpose laid out very clearly, both for potential masters and slaves. This was not a
top/bottom kink group, though by some folk's definitions, kink existed. This was not an
S&M club, though it was practiced with great skill. Nor was it a swingers club, much to
the chagrin of some wanting entry. It was a home of the master- slave lifestyle. A
sanctuary for those so inclined.
The rules were simple. They believed in a male dominant structure and the group
existed to support that vision. Social support, education and entertainment components
made up the whole; with an emphasis on the mental aspects of peaceful master-slavery.
All believed learning the S&M skills was a relatively easy series of tasks, plus practice.
Mastering the skills to control and build structure, to cope with the myriad of
relationship issues, was far more difficult, and more rewarding, so emphasis was there.
The goal was to develop consistency with each individual master's vision, by applying
universal master-slave and relationship truisms, then letting the personalities take it from
 there.
Female dominants and male slaves, while welcome visitors, were not selected for
permanent inclusion. Switches, transgender and gays generally stuck to their own
communities. Was the group elitist and unfair in its approach? Certainly such a group
existing today would be considered politically incorrect, and undoubtedly vilified by the
intolerance found by many calling on the BDSM lifestyle to be broad based and
inclusive. Wayne's group did not dumb-down, nor did they seek the lowest common
denominator to appease the masses. To label such a group elitist today is a red herring,
serving little purpose. These men and their slaves simply had a niche they lived within.
They did not preach the holy writ of true mastery, or practice intolerance of other niches.
The structure they enforced upon themselves created happiness, and they simply
supported and passed on that framework.
The group masters expressed no interested in creating an inclusive broad-based
organization designed to generate membership quantity. There was no inherent need for
size validation. That was not their purpose. They focused on the quality of the
individuals, in a calm atmosphere, enriching each other's knowledge, and assisting with
the growth of their slaves. They did it while maintaining and passing on their vision of
master-slave living. Never was it presented to be all things to all people. Nor was there
arrogance in their approach. They simply believed their rules worked better for them,
than all others. Practitioners of different niches in the BDSM culture were entitled to find
happiness elsewhere. The same standards applied to potential slaves.
They believe masters are born. They also believe slaves are genetically pre-
determined, to at least some degree. Lest there be no misunderstanding, they do not
believe all men are genetically coded to mastery, nor all women destined to slavery. In
fact, they believe, as I still do many decades later, that the numbers of so inclined are a
miniscule percentage of the populace. Genetic coding for whatever reason, in whatever
random assignment it occurs, is a mystery not yet revealed. But, through observation,
experience and passed down knowledge, this theory had become a belief within the
group. Genetic coding did not assure quality mastery, or slavery. That required acquiring
skills, knowledge and experience. The group simply encouraged developing and
enjoying the mental and physical lifestyle skills, and experiencing it among those
identified as mature, capable and serious. They do believe though, that without the
genetic foundation of compassionate leadership, mastery could not flourish to the levels
able to sustain long-term master-slave relationships. The same applied to the slaves.
Their long-term happiness required a pre-disposition to structure and an acquiring of
skills.
Whether of course these beliefs are true is arguable, and ultimately unimportant to
these men and women. Their recognizing potential master, or slave qualities in others is
what excited them, and those folks were warmly received.
That first evening in his living room, Wayne made clear the standards abided by all.
There would be no switching. They were interested only in those wired to dominance, or
submission. The hierarchical approach eschewed by the Old Guard gay community of
growing from slavery to learn mastery, was not a path they found productive. "Earning"
your way up the ladder to mastery, by creating an artificial environment, was
inconsistent to their thinking and worse yet, applied an unhealthy "contest" context. It
made no sense to these gentlemen. Learning the slave mindset was critical to good
mastery, but did not require artificially placing the growing master in a "role"
Masters did not have to feel a slave's need, they just had to believe in it!
They had more respect for the intelligence of the master to learn and grasp the
essentials, without the game. That hierarchical approach, while popular among many
groups and relationships, was anathema to core needs as identified by genetics, and thus
too often diminished the experience to role-play. They questioned whether any role-play
served the purpose of understanding the slave mind any better. To them, there were
better tools available.
Interestingly, while specific about the masters involved in the group, they were no
less discriminating in selection of slaves. To be fair, there were some, but very few un-
owned slaves included. When a genuine need existed, and identified in a woman, they
were brought in. The criterion for inclusion was no less stringent than for masters. Slaves
were patiently identified as possessing the pre-disposed genetics, which is just a fancy
way of saying their need to serve and obey, in a healthy enriching relationship, was a
core need of who they were.
Once established, there was but one golden rule for all slaves, be they owned, or
single. While their opinions were sought, and their intelligence cherished, under no
circumstances were they welcome to criticize, or attempt to alter, or change, the master's
structure for the group. They were fully informed in advance, and could accept what they
found, or they were welcome to smile on the way out. It was an "either or", there was no
negotiation. Their choosing to walk, was not a reflection on the quality of their slavery,
but rather just a poor match to the group's vision.
"Take it or leave it, pet, but do not even think about trying to change it," was the
abiding foundation.
Bratty behavior, and the glorification of the brat were non-existent, though intelligent
repartee as a reflection of a warm personality, was welcome. Tolerance of subliminal
directing of group activities, and application or interpretation of rules, was just not
abided. Nor was disrespect. Any adversarial behavior or attitude, was dealt with and
redirected, but never accepted. And it all worked. Masters and slaves relaxed, able to be
themselves.
A condition of my mentoring by Wayne, was to respect his wish not to own, or
attempt to own, a slave for an indefinite period of time. He was very particular about
this. He did not want anyone hurting slaves from ignorance, and that included me.
Certainly, mistakes are made, we all know that, but there is no excuse, or reason to harm
a slave simply because a master failed in his homework. The care and respect
demonstrated over and over for the power and responsibilities of mastery, was the
underlying foundation for all my time involved with the group, and perhaps the most
important lesson of all.
"Observe, ask questions, listen and use your senses. We will teach you. Be creative
and observant, tolerant and firm. But do not seek to own. Hurt, but do not harm.
Patience my boy. There is no shame in leaving a slave wanting more."
I heard it a thousand times. Near the end it sunk in.

Master's Code Of Conduct

There are very few absolutes in the BDSM lifestyle, or in this book, and that is as it
should be. Carving one's own identity and individualism from the myriad of alternatives,
styles, emotional commitments, and physical acts, to be as diverse as one needs, is part
of the fun. In large measure, that is much of the beauty and attraction for these open-
minded souls. It may well account for why many exposed to this lifestyle but once,
become forever addicted.
For masters, there are some identifiable behaviors, not only enhancing presence and
ability to master, but also largely serve to define each personal relationship. A master's
behavior, also affects relations between BDSM peers, and the community in which he
interacts. To Wayne's group in its prime, before the internet generation, these were
indeed absolutes. Behavior and conduct between masters, but also to un-owned slaves,
was a matter of pride and identity. It seems less so today.
The recent degeneration of master conduct within the BDSM culture
notwithstanding, the behavior with which masters conduct themselves is still important.
Arguably, honorable master behavior is required even more so now than ever before,
when factoring in the lifestyle expansion going on. That a Master's Code of Conduct is
generally mocked today in an outcry of "I can do this any way I want" and "Who are you
to tell me how to live this lifestyle", while valid to a point, is rhetoric and hyperbole.
Those unwilling to develop self-discipline resulting in a consistent vision for their slaves
and themselves, often use this and similar rhetoric. Successfully acquiring skills to
master another person is not their priority. So instead, they pontificate self-righteously. I
cannot prove that statement empirically, but it is an observation based over considerable
time.
Wayne's group instilled and practiced a Master's Code of Conduct consistent with the
principles of mastery itself. Anyone would be hard pressed to gather a more eclectic and
freethinking group of men, from all walks of life, backgrounds and educations, yet they
shared a common purpose. If there is another thing these men had truly mastered, it was
the ability to rise to any occasion, or happenstance, as it came along. They repeatedly
demonstrated the dedication and discipline to self-train, acquire skills as needed, and to
use them when opportunities to act on their myriad of whims, wishes, needs and
fantasies presented.
In one sense, they were like chameleons, able to present as charming and witty, in a
manner acceptable to the most cultured corners of society; then moving out to the
hallway, changing instantly to a style capable of blushing a Marseilles dockworker.
Cultured leadership, to insatiable debaucheries, in a moment's notice defined these men.
Now is that not kicking the staid hypocrites of society, and their behavior police in the
choppers? It is as good as cheating life itself, and a pant load of fun. Predictable, is often
a synonym for boring, and in this sense, predictable they were not.
The quality masters I have enjoyed, respect and have friendships with, have
embraced not just the civility and impeccable manners one hopes guide all aspects of
life, but represent a certain nobility of purpose, woven specifically into the master-slave
lifestyle. Remember when perusing this Code of Conduct, that not all are blessed with an
upbringing of instilled manners and refined social graces. Learn them. There is no
excuse not to exercise the graces. Manners do not diminish masculinity, or mastery, they
enhance it. Is that not a master's goal, to be the best he can? Vulgarity and coarseness
have their place, but so does civility.
We ask much of slaves, to learn new and revise old behavior to acceptable standards.
Is it not too much to ask that her expectations of your conduct be consistent with the
position you enjoy in her life? I am not suggesting every master become Mr. Manners, as
comfortable on Ambassador Row, as at the local dungeon. However, there are occasions
when general civility elevates and isolates for the greater good. It sustains respect in
small ways.
Sylvia gracefully re-entered with a tray of coffees. Wayne smiled as she served, his
pride clearly evident. "Ask the others to join us please Sylvia".
"Take the high road young man!"
Wayne Innes circa 1979

The room soon filled as the men of the group entered and introductions made. Some
I had met before, of course, but there were new faces. No other slaves were present that
first evening. Sylvia ably handled the master's needs. She returned with more coffee,
astonishing me with her ease and invisibility as she ensured all received attention.
Sitting among these men, much my senior, it was not long before the comfort and
welcome felt earlier disappeared. What had been months of wonderful conversation and
exploration of possibilities, was now stark reality. Surrounding me, these men
represented decades of real slave ownership. Was I in over my head? Was I nervous and
unsure? Scared shitless was more like it. The reality of my quest was upon me.
 All seated and Sylvia departed, Wayne addressed the gathering, welcoming me, and
explaining to the others, where we were in discussions. While not a ritual per se, I could
tell they were accustomed to the process. Witnessed by the group, Wayne explained the
expectations and conduct required from all. Ensuring clarity of purpose, and building a
solid foundation of communication, earmarked the group for all my time there. It started
that first night, and it was not exclusive to just interaction between Masters. They
universally practiced it in building their slave relationships as well. My initial nerves
began to change yet again, resolve growing to learn this art of mastery. I wanted to share
the peace these men so obviously enjoyed. It was a calling indeed.
To understand the dynamics of these men and their style is to understand that right
from the first evening over coffee, we were equal. Acceptance of the young
whippersnapper-know-nothing-kid was immediate, with equal respect accorded. There
was no condescension, or patronizing, no ridiculing of ignorance. They were aware of
my unlearned state, but it mattered not from that moment on. They would help, mentor,
teach and explain. Incredible honesty and openness existed. Looking back now it was as
if they saw the future, and wanted their knowledge brought forward to exist into the next
generation. They were a class act, surely a mark of mastery mastered.
In front of all that night, they explained the Master's Code of Conduct. Interesting is
it not, that so simple a code was to be witnessed yet again, heard by men having heard it
many times, probably able to recite it verbatim and so obviously practicing it. That was
their nature though. Such was the importance of this essential building block.

The Code… It's More Of A Guide If You Like

"Conduct yourself with integrity. It is all you bring into the world and all you can
take away. Why leave empty handed? No master succeeds without his integrity intact."
"Respect that, without power offered, none can be managed. Do not shame yourself
by imposing disciplines and protocols on those unwilling, or unable. Mastery is not a
right, but a consensual agreement between the informed."
"Respect all expressing their involvement in the Leather culture, master or slave.
Respect is not earned, it is offered immediately. A slave, or master has no obligation to
earn your respect. They can un-earn it quickly enough and often do, but respect their
choices immediately. Presume the validity of their declarations, and that they invested
the time and effort to achieve their proclamations."
"This lifestyle is fun! Let that truism always guide you."
"Never address, or touch another's property, or un-owned slave, without obtaining
permission. It is bad manners and presumptive nonsense to do otherwise. You are a
master not a scoundrel."
 "Address all issues to the master and never involve yourself in a slave's business. If
she comes to you for advice, politeness is the order of the day, specific answers
pertaining to their relationship avoided, and theoretical answers of a general nature
only offered. Never, ever give advice to a slave unsolicited."
"Never strike in anger. Leave the violent temper to the less mature. You are above it
and being so will mark your mastery."
"Walk softly and carry a big stick, a style many slaves respond to."
"You can and will maintain perfect self-control. If unable to, you are likely
unsuitable and would fare best leaving the lifestyle. A slave cannot entrust control of her
life to a master demonstrating the inability to control himself. Do not confuse perfect
self-control with making perfect decisions. The former is a must, the latter a wish.
Demonstrating the courage to decide, is to conquer the fear of erring."
So went the Code. The last point was a critical one and subtle in its effect, which
generated my first question and discussion within the group. Reacting negatively on first
hearing it, not so much to the surface message, because striving to maintain self-control
in all conditions is worthy, but the underlying presumption seemed cliché. It suggested a
master was not entitled to anger, perhaps even having to apply artificial self-discipline,
effectively eliminating emotion from his personality. A red flag popped up. The Code
concept seemed to lead down a path to the stereotypical aloof, cold, unemotional master
found in many fantasy novels. I knew that was not me. I had passion and involvement. I
cared, and expressed myself. Was this the wrong place, my personality unfit for
mastery? My dream might end before it began? Shit! And, it was my first night too!
Some take that path in developing their style of mastery. It is consistent with
personality. But it need not be and in fact is easily argued, not conducive to developing
communication channels. It can also be a lonely way to live. However, people are
different, and there are slaves that seek and wish for that style in their owners.
The message contained within that Code item was simpler than I was trying to make
it in presenting the question before the group. Feel, enjoy and experience all the human
emotions. Laugh, cry, dance, and sing when life calls for it. A master does not subvert
those feelings within himself; he simply controls them. He will not allow his emotions to
overcome his common sense and good judgment, but revels in his humanity, confident in
his skills to manage.
I exhaled. There was a chance this might work. The dream was alive.
So the Code was a series of profound statements indeed. Certainly, the values were
worth embracing. Yet over coffee that evening, with the serious nature of the discussion,
humor and fun were never far away.
Sylvia did her coffee refill thing and smirked an impish smile hearing what followed.
There was more to that woman than met the eye. What ensued was Wayne's fault. He
started it.
"Then of course your slave needs control with more specific Code content", and the
parody began.
"Covet not thy master pal's slave. He will offer her when he is ready."
"Your slave offered herself, so use her. A lot. Keep going. And again. She can take
more than you think."
"She does not always need to cum. She only thinks she does."
"Her modesty belongs in your back pocket."
"Be great in bed… and in the dungeon, over the dining room table, in the forest, do
not forget the car, the dog cage and remember that she is shy, so pretend it matters."
"Remind her fisting is passé, elbowing the latest rage. She will get the message. Then
rename your arms "Message" and "Delivered"".
"Display impeccable table manners, but never lose the art of drooling. Mouth
foaming is even better. Use it best when growling with glazed eyes."
"Spanking slaves is encouraged while enjoying football games on Sunday afternoon.
Spiking her end zone is quite appropriate celebration. No flag on the play."
"Adore her, but do not idolize her."
"Do not ever tattoo large "W's" on her inside upper thighs. It may look great lying on
her back, legs spread and it spells "WOW", but it is a mood killer when she is on all
fours and you see "MOM"".
"Patiently explain why you play golf backwards. She will understand when she spells
it."
"And lastly, go ahead, place her on a pedestal. There is no sense in putting your back
out to cane her!"

Tim The Tool Man

It is worth pausing a moment to understand the tidal wave of societal influence

Wayne's group of male dominants and female slaves fought daily. Influence that is as
relevant today as thirty years ago. Increasing government intervention in our lives and
the erosion of civil liberties in the wake of 9/11, has arguably restricted the practice of
alternative lifestyles. The feminist movement, gender neutrality, and the race for the
almighty greenback have worked to reduce the male role in relationships to that of
 buffoon. We see it portrayed in advertising and throughout American culture. "Tim the
Tool Man" from the TV show "Home Improvements" is a prime example, but there are
countless others, including the character of "Ray Barone", his brother and father from the
show "Everyone Loves Raymond". "Allan" from "Two and a Half Men" is a more current
example of the media's portrayal of the neurotic buffoon. In every case, these are
bumbling, awkward, socially inept characters with sexy feminine wives who "have" to
assume the pants in the house, just to survive, all because they married a loveable idiot.
Men are being systemically emasculated.
If these were isolated parodies that would be different, but they are examples of
systemic and widespread stereotyping throughout all media forms. This pattern of
influence affects the practice of the master-slave lifestyle. They are pressures brought to
bear affecting the political correctness of consensual slavery.
Countless commercials, TV shows, movies, billboards, print ads and radio
commercials contribute to the perception, re-enforcing the ineptitude of the North
American male. It is relentless. It goes on, and on, and on. Nary a day goes by without
the attack. We have all seen it.
Understanding the reason for all this is easy. Money! Empower women. Studies
show they are the consumer decision makers and if demonstrating her independence to
sell product means belittling the male, so be it, it is effective advertising. It sells. Show
me the money!
This is important to many, but perhaps not others. Who cares if women are the
consumer? So men are mere sidekicks, playful amusements, entertaining but inept. Does
it really matter that men are buffoons in the media? It is just the advertising executives
selling stuff right? Well, is it that innocent?
The argument is only valid if you believe the media has no influence. If that were the
case, McDonalds, General Motors, Proctor & Gamble and the entire advertising
industry client base, are only spending their billions each year because they love those
clever advertising guys and gals. The fact is advertising does work. You know it and I
know it. It is real. People bombarded by images remember and identify with those
images. The marketers call it brand recognition and it influences attitudes.
Many years ago, I asked a senior marketing executive of Goodyear in Canada if the
giant electronic billboard on the Expressway in Toronto was expensive and effective
advertising. He chuckled and said, "I don't know". He went on to say though, that it cost
$40,000 a month to operate, almost half a million dollars a year for one billboard. I was
flabbergasted and picking my jaw off the ground said, "Well, is it worth it?" He just
smiled and said "I don't know. But I do know when we stop advertising our sales nose
dive and when we spend money on advertising our sales sky rocket… but I don't know if
it works", and we both just laughed.
So why again is this important to the master-slave lifestyle? Is it only affecting the
 master-slave community?
It is a proven fact that advertising affects attitudes and behavior. It is a terrifying fact
to my thinking, but it is a truth nonetheless. That faceless corporate entities and even the
government can influence our behaviors so stridently with focused and effective long-
term advertising and propaganda is Orwellian in scope. Many dominant males believe
this glamorizing of emasculation and buffoonery in men has long-term effects for
society. If the attacks and erosion continue with generations influenced by the media
message, then surely we have a self-fulfilling prophecy of complete gender neutrality
and male emasculation.
Whether answers exist of primordial encoding, instinct, or a pre-ordained plan that
men dominate their spousal relationship, or women hold submissive roles, is unknown
and debated regularly. However, generalizing, and recognizing the minefield of
exceptions, there does seem a natural order of male dominance within personal
relationships. Those agreeing accept gender neutrality opposes the natural order.
Emasculation then becomes a disservice to society by disrupting what may well be
instinctual human traits, in the name of the almighty dollar. Certainly the submissive
female and male dominant believe this is the case. Others do not and that is what makes
the merry-go-round fun.
Analyzing the BDSM culture as a segment of society and rounding off for simplicity,
there are approximately three hundred million people in North America. During research
of the BDSM product market, estimates by supplier manufacturers for their gear,
indicates approximately five million people buy, or are a target market for BDSM related
gear. That is about one and a half percent of the population base. Using those numbers as
a framework to illustrate a point, then over ninety-eight percent of North Americans
could not give a damn about our lifestyle.
By segmenting the BDSM community into those involved and interested in just the
master-slave, TPE niche, we can reduce that number even further. Having attended over
the years, more BDSM conventions, functions, presentations, workshops and gatherings
than I can count and listening to some well-respected, in-touch speakers, the so-called
BDSM community appears to break down into three general groups. Seventy percent
(70%) involved enjoy the S&M, top/bottom, fad, kink, entertainment and fetish aspects.
Another twenty-seven percent (27%) practice some degree of dominant/submissive
structure within their relationship beyond mere kink. That leaves about three percent
(3%) who practice, aspire to, wish for, or want the master-slave TPE niche. As one
travels through the lifestyle meeting people, that number seems about right. One-half of
one percent of the North American population, or approximately 150,000 people is all
that are involved in master-slave livable structure.
Whether the numbers are dead accurate is not important to this book, or to the
practice of consensual master-slavery. However, they illustrate the sheer mass of societal
pressure, supported by an overwhelming population majority, that everyone in Wayne's
 group face in their quest to live their values. It takes great strength of character and
conviction to withstand that pressure. If 99.5% of the population is buying into the
gender neutrality propaganda, then fighting to live a male dominant relationship and
survive the daily onslaught of vanilla and emasculating attitudes is a significant hurdle
for any relationship.
Believing in natural order is why one-half of one percent of the population considers
master-slave living empowering and a foundation from which to flourish. It reflects a
natural part of who they are. It moves their structure beyond the realm of role-play
fantasy. They do not push their beliefs on others, but do seek the tolerance to live
without interference. Perhaps the rapid growth within the BDSM lifestyle we have seen
in the past two decades represents subliminal, or reactive rebellion to the emasculating
process. Many have had enough of the "Tim the Tool Man" buffoon act.
Are people fed up with gender neutrality as part of their primary personal
relationship as promoted by the political correctness police? It is a legitimate question
now.

Mind Fuck #2 - "The Creamer"

Kneeling, her face pressed into the carpet; fully clothed, she remained prone with
both hands in the small of her back. He called it a position of humility and she knew
why. Pacing around, he thought about this slave of his. She was getting cocky, too full of
herself; and if something was not done, her next step would be taking their relationship
for granted. That was intolerable. He wanted her secure in their relationship to be sure,
but this attitude of hers of late, was annoying and borderline disrespectful. She had not
been directly disobedient, but reinforcement of his structure was needed, and it would be
a lesson in humility. He suspected deep down, she knew all this too. It was their first
year together and she was still learning the subtleties he demanded.
"I have been annoyed at your attitude the last few days pet and it has taken me some
time to identify why."
She was listening closely. She loved her life and worked hard to be the best slave
possible. She didn't know what was coming, or if she deserved, or earned it, but that did
not matter. She had given him the power to decide and she would honor her
commitments, confident she had submitted to the right man.
"You are not going to be punished girl, I cannot identify any reason to. You have not
been disobedient and I am proud of that. But, you do need a lesson in humility and ego.
You are becoming unfocused and full of yourself."
She was listening intently, unhappy with his words, but respecting the truth she knew
they were.
 "At Mistress Helen's party tonight she is having a buffet dinner for everyone. You
will serve at it. You will not talk, or raise your eyes to anyone, and if I am pleased with
your service you will be free to enjoy and socialize with our friends for the rest of the
party. Do you understand?"
That did not seem so bad she thought and was relieved. Serve some food, keep the
buffet stocked, and do some dishes, no big deal.
"Yes Master, I understand."
She remained leashed when the guests arrived. Among their friends, they knew that
meaning. No one addressed her, or even acknowledged her presence. For an hour she
endured, eyes down without talking, obediently following her master as he socialized
and enjoyed the party. It was driving her crazy, unable to talk with friends, but she was a
slave and it was her place.
"Dinner is ready everyone. There are salads at this end. We have fresh lobster, steak,
corn on the cob and all the fixings in the middle. Over in the corner is coffee for those
that want it", announced Helen's slave.
That was his trigger and he turned to his slave.
"It is time girl, do you remember my instructions?"
"Yes Master" came the humble response.
Good start, he thought and marched her over to the coffee table. On it stood two
large urns, one for coffee, the other tea. Beside it were stacks of cups and saucers enough
for all fifty at the party.
"Bare your tits girl."
Without hesitation she loosened her bustier and lowered it to her waist. Her cute
breasts were exposed. Pinching each nipple, they stiffened.
"Sit on the table here girl."
Obeying, she sat perched beside the urns, legs dangling, hands behind her back and
bare-chested.
"Keep your eyes lowered and do not even think about opening your mouth slavegirl."
The leash came off and from his pocket he took a thick black marker. On the top of
each breast, pointing to the nipple, he drew two large arrows. Above the right he wrote
"MILK" and the left "CREAM".
Grabbing her by the hair keeping her head bowed he growled.
"Who are you girl?"
 "Your slave", came back meekly.
"That's right girl, you are my slave. You are my chattel, my property, footstool, table,
chair, and warm cunt when I want. You are not some silly vanilla girlfriend, or wife, or
anything more, or less than my slave. Do you understand?"
"Yes Sir," again came the humble response.
"You know I love you. Your identity, accomplishments, skills and opinions are a
source of great pride to me. I love that you are strong and talented, highly intelligent
and a contributor to this world. I love that you love life, are happy and make others
around you better. You are a wonderful Mom, daughter and sister. And you are my
treasured slave. There is nothing I would not do to protect you."
"But you are becoming cocky and self-absorbed, too inward thinking, a step away for
taking me and your slavery for granted. I will not allow that slavegirl. Not in a million
years. You need a lesson in humility, to knock some of that ego out of you. So, tonight
you are my cream and milk dispenser for anyone who wants coffee, or tea. Nothing
more. That is your sole purpose in life until I decide otherwise. No one here is the
slightest interested in who you are except what you can give them. You have no identity,
or value beyond what your tits can give. Do you understand creamer-slave?"
"Yes Master". She was crying.
For the next hour, she was not a person for the way she was treated. Nipples were
squeezed, pulled, bitten and suckled, until they hurt. Everyone wanted coffee at the party
and they went after her milk with vengeance. That she was not lactating made not the
slightest difference. Everyone used her tits. There was laughter and ridicule and
countless shouts that the fucking creamer was empty. A few masters even offered to
refill her with their own special cream.
They tipped her over in efforts to get any last drops and the female dominants
seemed most vicious. When the breast pump did not work, her tits were dipped in
Amaretto, and then into the warm coffees to at least make them somewhat useful.
By the end of dinner, her nipples were swollen and raw from the mauling. But,
through it all, not a word came from her mouth, her eyes never rose and her hands never
moved to protect herself. She was crying and some slaves compassionately said they
preferred their coffee black. Her master watched from afar and was immensely proud.
Walking to her he stood in front. She knew it was her owner, the way slaves know
those things.
"Who are you slavegirl?" he whispered.
"Your humble slave Master."
"What do you want?"
 "To kneel for you Master."
"Go ahead girl."
She knelt, placing her head on his boots.
"You are a goodgirl."
He let her be still for a few minutes. No words were necessary. She knew her place,
and she had learned. All was good again.
Two slaves arrived on signal.
"Take her and clean her up please."
"Pet, go with these girls and clean yourself up. Then come and join the party. I have
a plate of food set aside for you. You are my treasure." He kissed her passionately, to her
very soul.
As she left, she remembered his words and her thoughts from earlier in the day.
"Serve at the buffet, a few plates, some dishes, makes sure the buffet was stocked, no
big deal."
When would she learn to stop underestimating her Master?
 Chapter III - The Guts Of Master-Slavery

Mastery

In the weeks following my first meeting with the group, exhilaration reigned
supreme. I had begun an exploration into a lifestyle to thrive and be happy. It seemed
simple. The excitement, romance and sensuality abounding were addictive. I could feel
myself growing and maturing. Yet before leaving that first meeting in his home, Wayne
took me aside and asked me to think about a question in the coming days. I learned the
answer to which would be a building block for all that was to follow. It was a sobering
dimension to what had been a wonderful evening. Like Wayne's approach and the
lifestyle itself, the question was simple.
What is mastery?
Asking this question nowadays, considering the anonymous and unaccountable
nature of many purporting to be masters in the lifestyle (and in fairness because of the
lack of quality mentorship programs and reasonable educational resources), the answers
range across the full spectrum of hyperbole and fantastical dogma. Talking-the-talk and
walking-the-walk are decidedly different animals, with the difference often manifested in
the varying answers to this question.
Perhaps in some short-lived relationships, platonic, or adrenalin-based couplings,
many of the bully approaches and wishy-washy bottoming-from-the-top drivel works.
For those seeking a more enduring slave relationship though, the answer must be
thoughtful and realistic. The answer must provide a rock solid foundation for all other
aspects of the master's vision and practical application of that vision, within his day-to-
day routine.
Mastery is responsible control of part, or all, of another's life.
Mastery is about power.
Power is about control.
Control is the ability to apply consequence.
How well you master; to what degree you want to master; who you master; the
powers and degrees of power you want to control; their incumbent responsibilities and
the learned techniques to manage that power; play a large part in how happy you and
your partner will be.
Like many good things in life, beautiful things start with simple concepts, and that is
 the case here.
Mastery in the BDSM master-slave context is responsible control of part, or all of
another's life. What could be simpler than that essential statement? Control provides the
definition of what it is we do.
However, as simple a concept as it is, there is a level of subtlety ever present.
Regardless of this subtlety, or even complexity of how we manage our human
relationships in this lifestyle, the initial concept never varies, never gets far from the
surface. So as you read and learn; spend time and grow in the lifestyle, remember well
the fundamental. Mastery is control of another. Responsible mastery is responsible
control of another. It is pretty simple really. Granted it exists with infinite permutations,
combinations and degrees from couple to couple. However, the underlying foundation
never changes and forms the basis for how well you manage power while growing and
achieving. This will define your mastery.
There is another aspect to defining and practicing mastery that is equally, if not
arguably, more important than all others. You can develop your identity, vision, skills
and craft to a zenith of efficiency and creativity. You can study, converse, understand
and demand all you want. But, without one crucial element, without your focus being to
create and sustain a specific atmosphere and belief, none of it will endure, or be
productive over time.
Simply put, for mastery to work you must create, re-enforce, focus on and be guided
in directing her mind to the simple belief that she thinks herself a slave. If she only
fleetingly feels her slavery, it will not endure. She will process in vanilla terms and
constantly, at some level fight this. Without the core belief in herself as a slave, and your
constant positive reinforcement of that core value, none of this works.
The "slave mindset" produces the enduring love that binds the dedicated master. She
must bring that need to the relationship, but as master, it is critical those feelings be
reinforced through your actions and style.
All relationships are about mutual need fulfillment. That is another fundamental
truth. Every marriage counselor and psychologist knows that. As a master, your needs
are to control and direct in a positive manner. For the slave, it is to serve and obey her
responsible master. The simple truth is your mastery must produce and maintain in her
head a genuine appreciation of who she is… a slave, a piece of chattel, or property,
useful, valued, loved and cherished, but a slave nonetheless. If her slave needs are
genuine, she needs this from you, craves it in fact, though she may not understand it at
first.
She needs to feel owned, without reservation, unencumbered in any way, with
complete trust that this is her life, her happiness and she can attain all the world has to
offer with this self-belief. You are her bedrock, and your mastery is moot without
producing and reproducing these wonderful feelings in her. It is critical to sustaining the
 relationship over time. A masters' inability to develop a style that keeps her slavery
forefront in her mind will begin a slippery slide to a vanilla dynamic, with the resulting
power shift back in her direction. As master, you do not want that. Let that goal guide
you.
Now some might argue that if belief in her own slavery is paramount and a master
merely acts to appease that belief, then the slave controls the relationship. They argue the
master in fact becomes the slave. Some people truly believe that is the case. The
argument is psycho-babble and nothing more than mental masturbation by gobbly-gook
masters not interested in accepting responsibility, or pseudo-slaves willing to give
control.
Mastery is guiding her mind to realize her core need to serve and obey you. If you
believe the armchair psycho-analysts who want to over-argue and twist that to mean she
controls, then perhaps the whole concept of dominance to one, and submission in return
is invalid. For a master, it is real and very valid, witnessed by its healthy existence. I
have only ever heard this argument from those unwilling, or unable to live this dynamic,
not from those with the core need, who have enjoyed the genuine compassion and
passion of master-slave living. Those living it know their needs transcend the academic
arguments.
Many have no interest in this style of relationship, of course. The structure and vision
does not meet their needs. For those that can identify with structure as a core need and
are able to embrace how it expands their lives and fosters growth however, it is perfect.

Power

"Not twenty minutes after eating in a Chinese-German restaurant, I was hungry for
power. So is power, schnitzel, with a side order of chop suey and control being the
willingness to consume it?"
Well, certainly that is one definition of power and one I enjoy, but then I like food.
Even power lunches are good. However, power in the master-slave dynamic is more
involved than that eclectic mix.
Stated earlier was the concept that mastery is power. The ability to control through
power is the ability to lead, decide and apply consequence. So it is important the aspiring
master understand what power is.
Most entering the lifestyle almost immediately hear the term Power Exchange. They
can then move on confident that they have the lingo down pat, if not the reality. It is a
cute, quaint phrase, being all warm and fuzzy. It gives folks a nice snuggly, politically
correct feeling about what it is we do in the Leather, BDSM, Master/slave,
Dominant/submissive, Top/bottom lifestyle.
 Power Exchange is a relatively recent term, coming into use and designed to give
vanilla folk, and those with interest, a sense of legitimacy and security. It is a term used
as a catchall of goodness that to a degree sterilizes the BDSM culture. That is all good if
you need to identify, explain and justify BDSM in vanilla terms to yourself and others.
But, in reality, it contributes little to living and developing a specific relationship of
structure, defined control, and power management. It is an overused cliché. It begs
explanation on a different level, from a different perspective.
To understand power, one must disassociate with the prevailing rhetoric of the day.
Power Exchange is one term to dispense with immediately, but know that discussion of
power takes many forms. The most common power debates is the classic "what is a slave
vs. submissive" and "the slave ultimately controls" discussions that occur endlessly.
These mislead and too often confuse, rather than clarify. They also generate animosity in
the community that serves no purpose. Power discussions need to be specific and clear.
Most of us engage, often unwillingly, in these debates within the lifestyle. There
appears to be a need by some to redefine and create new words to explain what is
essentially already defined. That people try this is usually because they have not studied
the original concepts first. I sometimes wonder if President Clinton's famous "define is"
defense for his sexual escapades, did not evolve after being closeted in the White House
listening to an online BDSM discussion and the nattering inane semantics over labels
and definitions.
We need to do a little thinking. Important thinking that will provide a whole new
perspective on the lifestyle than you have likely considered before. Pour a glass of your
favorite wine, then sit back to consider one simple question. Take your time because it is
the essence of this book, a practical philosophy of the BDSM life. There is no right or
wrong answer as you ponder this, so do not beat yourself up worrying if you head off on
some tangents. Save the beatings for later, for now just think about power.
With that in mind and wine in hand, find a quiet place, sit down, pull your feet up
and ask yourself…
General terms, vague notions, and romantic clichés, while nice to read do not provide
much specific information on how to develop a real life master-slave dynamic. You need
an understanding of specific power. The exercise is to think of what specific powers, real
powers, detailed livable powers, a slave can offer, and for which a master can accept
responsibility and manage. Be specific. Do not get involved with generalities. Come up
with actual real specific powers. Answering this question provides a foundation for all to
come in this book and your mastery.
The question is simple, the answer equally straightforward. Go ahead and answer.
Understand though, this is not a contest; there are no wrong answers. Think about it and
then read below for a different perspective. Some might argue what you are about to read
is a blueprint to build the foundation of all power exchange, master-slave, dominant-
 submissive relationships, not just your own.
Here is a hint to help.
There are only three powers. That is it, just three. They are simple, easy to
understand and will clear up more confusion, destroy more myths and clarify much of
the reigning rhetoric within the BDSM lifestyle. More importantly, they are the basis of
your mastery. Regardless of what niche you ultimately find most comfortable, the Three
Powers will be relevant. Label your niche whatever you want, but the Three Powers will
be there, to whatever degree you decide.
Remember the goal here when considering the question. You are not learning
mastery solely as an academic exercise, nor presumably just to impress people with talk.
The goal is to live and sustain a wonderful life with your slave. A master's vision and
goals are his guide, the Three Powers his reality, the tools to hew the path.
Speaking about power is always a fun discussion to engage in with a group of BDSM
enthusiasts. It inspires wonderful dialogue. When asked about specific power, a common
response involves giving control of a slave's mind, spirit and soul. I am not quite sure
what the difference between spirit and soul is, but they get mentioned often enough.
Those are the types of generalities to avoid. It is romantic claptrap.
However, it would be fun to see a master accept responsibility for a slave's mind.
"Come here slavegirl, give me your mind!" And imagine she did. It boggles my mind, to
see her mind, in his pocket. Never mind! But assume she did. It is gone, poof into the
master's pocket. Terrific, now you have her mind. Assumedly you have what you want
and she wanted to give. Never mind that you have ruined a good pair of jeans. Now
what?
What we know for sure is you have a mindless slave, a twit, a dummy, incapable of
thinking. She can not, no mind remember? Perhaps that is what some masters seek. Good
luck. Be happy. More power to you. It is cheaper to get an inflatable doll though, and the
criminal case less strenuous.
However, for those seeking more from a slave than a warm cunt and vacant eyes,
there must be a less fanciful answer to power. A slave's responsibility of pleasing,
serving, obedience and making her master's life more pleasant, requires her to think. By
filling your back pocket, you have just created the proverbial, oft maligned, and much
ridiculed, "slave doormat". The irony of a slave, or master spouting fanciful romantic
notions of mind control as a path to consensual slavery, is just too delicious. Rather than
creating a slave, they made a drone.
The best slaves can think, need to think, and had better think to flourish in their
choice to be enslaved. A slave needs her mind to do that. So no, do not take her mind,
even if you could. You do not really want it. Deal in reality. All that said, how she uses
her mind will be dealt with in forthcoming chapters. That is not mind control as in this
 context.
Then there is the notion and well-intentioned offering of the spirit. I love this one.
Chills go up my spine and apparitions stalk me when I go after a slave's spirit. How in
hell does one give their spirit. First off, usually the slave-dude, or dudette is dead if they
are offering their spirit and come to think of it, brain dead might be truer than we think
for this argument. Our spirit is our soul; our identity; our persona. It is who we are. Is
that what a master wants? To strip a person of her mind first, now her identity, her
essence, her self-worth, her core humanity and make a her sorta-human flesh bag?
"Attention. Attention. Calling all drones! Report to Task Group Four immediately."
"Attention. Cancel that order. The TV remote was beside the chair".
No, spirit and soul are not the specific powers. Think reality, think specificity. And
then read on.

The Three Powers

In the master and slave niche, in the dominant and submissive niche, and even the
top & bottom niche, or any other niche, label, or description of the BDSM spectrum of
emotions, activities and commitments you want to use, there is one commonality that
binds. Whether you embrace Total Power Exchange (TPE), Erotic Power Exchange
(EPE), whatever the time context is, whether twenty-four/seven, on weekends, or for an
evening, it is there. Be it under the same roof, a long distance relationship, or even
online, you cannot get away from it.
The Three Powers. Three specific powers. In any context and any niche they are the
foundation.
There are no others. To understand this lifestyle is to understand these powers. They
embrace everything. They can be tweaked, manipulated and varied to your heart's
content. But, they always exist. They clarify so much of the rhetoric and bombastic
nonsense out there. They define and provide structure.
The beautiful simplicity of the Three Powers is that in your behavior you can spin
and twist, be nasty and deviant, be loving and kind, be anything you want, by
understanding them. Structure her life and yours, reward and punish according to your
vision. Enhance romance, develop conflict resolution techniques, and make decisions
based on your managing these Three Powers. Use them to build enduring trust, love and
clarity of purpose. Consider them when analyzing what is happening on a daily basis,
good, or bad. Understand them, and as importantly make sure your slave ultimately
understands them.
So what is this magical cure-all elixir called the Three Powers?
 They are very simple.
You, as the master, can accept responsibility for power over all or part of; and the
slave can offer control and power over all or part of her…
BODY
BEHAVIOR
ATTITUDE
There is the magic, the Three Powers. Awfully simple really, but then understanding
the lifestyle is not rocket science. Alas we are taught more about rocket science in school
than keeping relationships healthy. In a sense it is not surprising so many get confused.
"Body, Behavior and Attitude", The Three Powers takes the broad spectrum of
emotions, commitments, activities, terms, issues, consistencies and inconsistencies
within the BDSM umbrella, and makes them understandable. They are the essence of
power exchange and the lifestyle. Nothing more. Nothing less. Understanding the
ramifications of these three powers will define your mastery and from this foundation
you can grow maturely with solid relationship fundamentals.
There are many aspects to understanding the magic of the Three Powers, so let us
explore them.
As stated though, there are three powers, not four, two, or a flogger bag full. Just
three. Some have argued over the years there are more and occasionally it is offered that
attitude is not a power. The defining characteristic to be a power is simple. If I can
punish for disobedience then it is a power. So let us discuss these powers in depth.

Body

She throbbed and was sore, but smiled anyway.

Sweat dripped from her temples.
"Oh, when he takes me like that", she thought.
Resting in bed, hands still bound, her heart raced as the wetness seeped outward to
stain the sheets. She awoke and came alive the moment he forced her legs apart. It was
like a dream at first, taken so rudely, just opened and fucked hard. No warm-up, or
consideration for her pleasure. Refusing to let her climax instilled powerful feelings. She
was his meat, his slave.
He was asleep again while she lay in unquenched lust. There was nothing she could
do but lay still, sleep was still hours away.
 "Oh God how he knows me, knows what I need." Her slavery struck to the core.
Peace and tranquility enveloped her soul. She was at home.
Having a warm responsive body available anytime, anywhere, in any way is the
allure for many men claiming their mastery. It is a powerful tool in the hands of a master
to create pleasure, to instill and re-enforce the slave's beliefs and the values she needs.
Power over her body, as a hook to get involved in the lifestyle is certainly a good one,
but also much more.
Control of the slave's body is common in BDSM. Many men love it and almost all
women. It is erotic, sensual, fun and easily understood in the master-slave dynamic. It is
a relatively straightforward power, and I suspect you had it figured out before the wine
was finished. It does not take a degree in quantum physics to understand the slave's body
can be controlled. How you control it is up to you and called degrees. You will spend a
lot of time exploring these degrees to find what makes you comfortable and meets her
needs.
There are umpteen ways to control her body. Encompassing control of time, place,
situation, who, and how, is but part of the fun. From simply fucking her when you want,
to deciding her hairstyle and when she can cum, can all be part. Micro-manage her body
if you so please, or make it as simple as having her accessible when you desire. The
combinations are only limited by your imagination and her flexibility.
Books have been written about using a slave's body and another could be herein. But,
this is about mastery. Use, shape, decorate, adorn, position, train, mold and expose her
body however you want. Fuck her, how, where, when and in the ways that please. Bind,
whip, scratch, spit on, slap, spank and pinch her when it suits your mood. Pee on her if
that is your thing. Care for it, keep it healthy and nurture it back from illness. It belongs
to you and it is valuable.
Using a slave's body, consistently and regularly is one of the strongest and most
common ways of producing a positive slave headspace, helping her once again believe in
her slavery. Besides that though, it is fun, deliciously so. What a wonderful power to
enjoy. A win-win situation if ever there was one. Why you will do these things and what
effect it has on a slave's mind, we are coming to, but the fact remains, she has offered her
body to some degree, and with it her modesty. Use the body and keep her modesty in
your back pocket.
When forming your vision and style of mastery, consider carefully the degree of
power you want over her body. For some masters and equally slaves, using her body in
the bedroom is the extent of the power that works. There is nothing wrong with bedroom
only submission, it being a valid niche along the BDSM continuum. To these people,
their sexuality is intensely personal and private.
For others, use of her body can be broader in scope, to include sharing her,
bisexuality, public display, modesty removal, and often incorporates fetish needs either
 partner may have. Body use has many variables, all of which have attending issues and
responsibilities.
Aspiring masters just need to remember, control of her body is a powerful tool over
her mind and deliciously fun. Because master-slave relationships often involve a degree
of sado-masochism and administration of pain, as well as movement restraint (bondage),
time must be devoted to learning those skills, before turning her into your personal
guinea pig. Make her squeal if you like, just do not make her the morning bacon.
The more intensely you use her body, the more time must be devoted to learning the
S&M arts. Master your skills before experimenting. There are plenty of workshops, how
to books, and skilled practitioners, who are more than willing to share their experience
and teach. It need not cost much and the resources are locally available almost
everywhere.
Use of her body also often involves using S&M tools. A word to those thinking of
investing in many of the various implements commercially available. Items like floggers,
whips and leather restraining devices come in a variety of price ranges and matching
quality. Most BDSM gear vendors are great people, offering advice on technique and
safety. They are happy to answer questions.
But, before purchasing, consider just what you are doing, why and to whom. Many
consider their slave the most important person in their life. These slaves are precious,
valuable, very rare and deserving of better than cheap implements, too often purchased
because of an inexpensive price.
If you are starting a collection of BDSM devices for your toy bag, buy the very best
you can afford each time. Your collection will build, last, and be more enjoyable to use.
As significantly though, your toys reflect to your slave how valuable she is, and that she
is worth the investment you are making.
I have often heard derisive comments in the community about dominants and their
toy bags. Many preach a master is not so, just because he has great toys. That may be
true. But, I have never seen a great master without a great toy bag and the knowledge to
use it wisely.
The other issue regarding toys is one of safety. Using her body is your right and
keeping her physically safe is the attending responsibility. The more expensive the toy
by comparison to similar devices, while not always, is usually partly because safety has
been built into it. Practice with the tool, learn safety, buy quality, then use it regularly. It
serves no purpose sitting under the bed socializing with the dust bunnies.
She only has one body. Control it wisely.

Behavior
 If power over her body is obvious and attitude subtle, a master's power over his
slave's behavior is just flat out wonderful. But, it is relentless work at first.
He was tired, exhausted in fact. What a grueling day. I better get to it, he thought.
We both need it.
"It is bedtime girl".
"Yes Master."
He smiled as she began her nightly ritual.
No… this was not some curlers in the hair, green face paint and a wooly ankle-biting
nightgown, followed by a peck on the cheek and savage war over blanket control. He
had heard of that nonsense from his vanilla friends, whining at the golf course about
their wives. This was quite different and his friends had no need to know.
She returned from the washroom and he watched as she lit the table lamps, cleaned
his reading glasses and set them on his book within easy reach. Next she folded down the
duvet and set his pillows, repeating it on her side.
She looked beautiful.
He smiled when she removed her clothes, putting them away and then finally
approached.
The time spent learning to kneel gracefully now paid off. Elegant, with grace, she
truly was a special slave. She took such pride in her service.
Eyes lowered and her hands resting in the small of her back she spoke…
"May I go to bed please Master?"
"Yes pet" and she rose coming into his arms.
He smiled, took her head by the hair and kissed her.
"You are a beautiful slave pet".
"And you a wonderful Master".
She went to the bedside as usual and bending over, spread her legs, making sure to
stretch out her arms, then waited.
He moved behind her. What would it be tonight? A slap, "goodgirl" and off to bed?
Maybe a fisting, no not tonight. A fucking? Which orifice? No, tonight it would be his
favorite, just a good old fashioned spanking.
She was still enduring the intense slaps, when she entered that special place he
demanded, and obeyed when grabbed by the hair, fingers thrust in, and said "Now
 slavegirl! Hard! Harder! Again!"
She barely heard his growl, "goodgirl", or felt her legs moved onto the bed, before
she was asleep.
He climbed in beside, happy, and snuggled her head into his shoulder.
Obedience is such a wonderful word. It comes in many flavors and styles
encompassing so many aspects of the master-slave relationship. Despite common myth,
a master does not bind and flog his slave every hour, on the half-hour, all day long, day-
in and day-out. To dispel another mythical legend of the mighty omnipotent master
roaming the back alleys of debauchery, we do not fuck the slave every hour, at the top of
the hour, all day long either. Despite these being tried and true methods to a masters'
enjoyment consistent with re-enforcing her slave mind, I suspect after age seventy-five it
is just too tough on the system. I will let you know when I get there.
Physical limitations notwithstanding, creative masters find ways to enjoy their slaves
and controlling her behavior is a method of unlimited joy and potential. In the rare
instance when she does not enjoy some of your expectations, a calmly delivered "suck it
up princess" usually does the trick.
While power over her body is delicious fun, controlling her behavior is equally so,
with the added benefits of pride, a peaceful atmosphere and perhaps the beauty of leather
adorning her daily. Control of behavior is a living art form, a delicate balance, juggling
your expectations, while getting inside her head, not just at that moment, but daily,
weekly and beyond. Creating art by teaching her behaviors provides endless hours of
enjoyment. It provides the structure you want, she needs, and when crafted wisely, will
do so without destroying her self-identity while enabling her capacity. Teaching
behavior is an opportunity to develop intimacy and deepen an understanding of each
other. It is wonderfully romantic and the master's household will evolve into a haven and
home for both.
You have striven to learn mastery assumedly because controlled behavior makes you
happy, you are comfortable there and it brings joy. It provides a framework to
successfully manage and sustain your intimate relationship. It is also critical for the
slave, aside from the obvious surface level realization that she likes rules, but also gives
her a measuring stick to know structure, rules and that the whole master- slave dynamic
exists. Now that may sound crazy at first. Obviously it exists. But does it every day?
How does she know it exists if there are no behavioral expectations on her? Other than
the six minutes fucking her throat each night, what else is there?
There are plenty of distractions in everyone's life. How does she feel her submission
during the turmoil of a busy workday? How, when all the vanilla pressures surround her,
as they do in day-to-day living, when the family is bugging her, the kids are sick, the dog
missing, the teachers calling, the boss is an ass, and the baker messes up master's
birthday cake which now reads "Happy Birthday Prick" instead of Rick? That is why
 there are protocols, rituals, contextual speech control, and other slave behavioral
expectations. They serve to let her know what is important, amidst all the wonderful
realities of living in a vanilla world. The behaviors you teach and she obeys become the
constant bedrock she relies on to focus on who she is.
Behavior control can incorporate protocols, rituals, speech, manners, scheduling,
socializing and virtually any aspects of her day, to whatever degree you want, as her
master. Responsibly controlling her behavior is not only fun and peaceful, but more than
any other single thing, dictates, reinforces and guides her mind to accepting who she is.
And is that not a key component of mastery?
It is also a minefield that can explode a master-slave relationship faster than
impregnation by a dog with two dicks in a harem court of bitches. The master must pay
attention to his expectations and develop a reliable consistency to succeed. There are lots
of examples of behavior

Attitude

"Sylvia did her coffee refill thing and smirked an impish smile hearing what
followed. There was more to that woman than met the eye."
Attitude in slavery became obvious the first evening in Wayne's living room so many
years ago. Though not understood then, it was tangibly in the air. The memory is clear
despite decades having passed. Slaves have that effect. There is a special aura they exude
defying description. They just have it. It is a special gift in their bearing, or as many
prefer, an attitude.
Sylvia had it. She was confident, comfortable in her skin and life choices, and
demonstrated an unwavering loyalty to her master. She never sought out the spotlight, or
attention. She just went about her business, contributing with the graceful elegance
exceptional slaves possess. It has been there all the years I have known her. She bore her
responsibilities with quiet grace and dedication. She had an attitude of nobility in
service, lacking both arrogance and condescension. She was not an unattractive lady
physically, nor was she a runway model. Her stunning beauty lay in her belief of her
slavery.
She was fast asleep. She should be, it had been a long day. The moon had come up
around 3a.m. and shone through the window giving the room a surreal feeling.
It was time. She needed the challenge and he needed to know. Attitude and
dedication were important slave qualities to him. They needed to be nurtured and
strengthen, but tested too.
Leave nothing to chance, and take nothing for granted, he thought.
 He woke her.
"A drink of water please girl."
He waited. What reaction would he get?
A look of incredulity, perhaps a disgruntled "huh", or maybe even a "fuck you Big
Boy".
All were possible, but she had lived here as his slave, long enough, that certain
values should be ingrained by now. Certainly, the request was out of the norm, but a
little surprise, and a little inconvenience never hurt a slave.
He half heard a drowsy "Yes master" as she climbed out and padded naked across
the room. Her body language said all he needed to know.
No reticence, or defiance, not even a hesitation, or the slightest pout. Even half
asleep, when feeling her least submissive, she knew it was her duty, without even
thinking about it. She glowed an aura of obedience and dignity.
Oh how he loved that girl. Tomorrow he would reward her, but first he'd best drink
the water.
If you do not think attitude is a power then you have never heard the expression "Do
not give me attitude." If you have kids, you have probably uttered it.
But what is attitude?
A slave's outward expressions, mannerisms, body language and self-esteem that
convey her general, and specific frame of mind, is attitude. Attitude is personal. It
reflects a total belief that she is not only a slave, but also your slave, delighted in her
unreserved submission to you, totally vulnerable, completely secure, surrendered and
happy with her identity. Without reservation, she has resolved the paradox of consensual
slavery, while being a contributing member of society.
Slave attitude is about showing happiness and accepting who she is. Her self-esteem
and confidence are important aspects of her service, often reflected in her attitude and
deportment. Demonstrating a poor attitude is rather self-defeating and works to sabotage
a relationship in the long-term, but as importantly, it is bad work for the master.
Here are some facts. Owning a slave is hard work, arguably more work than a vanilla
partner, and creating bad work is not a tolerable option. Certainly, folks have their bad
days. That is not what this is about, though can be. A slave's bad attitude generally
means one of two things exist. An issue is present within the relationship she is
uncomfortable with, disappointed in, or angry over, and she is reacting. Her negative
attitude can be a symptom of the underlying condition, not necessarily the problem itself.
Here a master must probe, or have protocols in-place specific to communication and
conflict resolution. Handling issues within the master-slave dynamic is non-negotiable.
 One cannot revert to vanilla dynamics when issues arise. It is critically necessary to
maintain the master-slave structure, so she needs tools provided by you, to do this. It is
your responsibility to give her those tools, to teach her how you want issues resolved.
Doing so, gives her everything needed to present issues for your resolution. Bad attitude
is not one of those tools, and if necessary, a master must punish it.
A poor attitude can be something else too. Healthy slaves display an outward
appearance and attitude of happiness in their choices. Showing and expressing a positive
attitude about her choice to live in slavery, the peace it brings and the choice she made in
her master are important elements of her life. Concern in these areas often manifest in a
poor attitude. Addressing bad attitude caused from these underlying issues must be
different than dealing with them with punishment, for it may mark a relationship
mismatch and the beginning of the end for the couple.
Many times, it is debated whether attitude, per se, is even a power. Arguing that
one's attitude reflects feelings, and feelings are always real and not always controllable,
draws the conclusion that attitude is not a power. That argument is more psycho-babble.
The simple definition that validates attitude as a viable power is the litmus test that "if it
can be punished, it is a power". Attitude is real and more importantly, it is a controlled
response by the slave, reflective of the degree of happiness with her life at that moment.
Her bad feelings may be real, but the conditions that caused those feelings are quite
controllable by the master.

The "Slave" Word

When discussing the Three Powers of Body, Behavior and Attitude, it is worth a
moment to talk about the word "slave" as used in conjunction with the Three Powers.
Too often, are witnessed petty arguments by those purporting their definition of
"slave", or "submissive", or the difference between "master-slave" and "dominant-
submissive", as the definitive one. Some women say, "I'm a submissive, not a slave" or a
dominant say, "I have a submissive, but do not own her". Said with passion and defiance,
these words are the Holy Grail. That passion belongs in the dungeon. Reality is though,
they are statements reflective of ignorance rather than constructive thought.
Within Wayne's group, statements similar to these never occurred for good reason.
That they do today reflects on the poor education being done within the lifestyle, as it
expands rapidly now, and over the past twenty years. It is time to clear the water.
Early on in my association with the group, Wayne took me to the dungeon where
knelt two women side by each. Both were dressed in a simple robe. Both were lovely
with eyes lowered and hands clasped in the small of their backs. He paced around them
in silence for several long moments, an eternity to these women for sure. Finally he
 stopped before them and said to the first…
"I accept your offering. I will control your body, your attitude and your behavior. I
will control it in all ways, at all times, in all situations, as I see fit. You will obey and
have only the rights to leave and know I accept my responsibility for you. You henceforth
are my slave."
Turning to the other he said,
"I accept your offering. I will control your body and use it for sexual pleasure. I
accept no other power or control from you. You henceforth are my slave."
With a serious look, he then turned to me…
"So… which of these girls is more a slave? Does one have the right to be a slave and
the other not? Is one a submissive, or charge, and not the other? Says who? Why?"
To those with clarity of thought, the answer of course is that neither girl is more a
slave than the other. They are equal. No contest exists making one more submissive than
the other. True, their niches within the BDSM spectrum are very different and their
submission unique, but each submits to the level of their comfort, health and happiness,
un-judged by another, where outside validation is not required. They understand and
reject the labels so often attached by those seeking to arbitrarily pigeonhole them. Each
slave and their master has in fact, defined and accepted their niche of the Three Power
triumvirate.
These women, Wayne, his group, and those thinking through the reality, understand
the cold hard fact, that slavery as defined legally, is outlawed in western society. Thus
technically the word does not apply to either girl. Neither woman is a slave in any legal
sense, but nor are they submissives. The word submissive is not a noun, so cannot be
used as one. It is an adjective, or occasionally used as an adverb, but never a noun. So
calling someone "a submissive", is no more viable or correct than referring to them as a
slave.
But today's BDSM population makes this distinction all the time, muddying the
water for many and blurring the reality of the Three Powers. By applying either label,
the infinite combinations, degrees, and niches of the Three Powers are cavalierly lumped
into two generic labels. There are three powers, but an unlimited combination and
application of those powers. Each combination is custom designed for the happiness of
the couple, by the couple, for the couple (thank you Mr. Lincoln). Therefore, we need an
infinite number of labels to describe each niche. Not two; not "slave", or "submissive";
we need millions.
Wayne's demonstration in the dungeon that evening made sense. That each girl's
niche is not the others, does not make either wrong. Each slave is in fact a "partner-of-
equality-in-a-power-exchange-relationship-where-equality-is-the-equal-right-to-have-
needs-met". Each master calls her what he wishes. The "slave vs. submissive" debate, at
best then becomes naught but an exercise of heated intolerance, and at worst, utter
nonsense. Used in the context of opposing labels, they are both pejorative terms. But
worse, they deflect away from the real dynamics that define a power exchange
relationship, the Three Powers.
So is this all moot? Does it really matter to any thinking person what anyone calls
their partner? If so, let us be correct. Many call their slave "my slave". That is certainly
my choice because I like it. It is sexy and conjures images in her head that reflect the
relationship, and once again positively reinforces her slave mindset, always a good thing.
Not being an academic, or too anally retentive, I tend to use jingoism and current day
jargon in casual conversation, without worrying too much about total accuracy. But, to
be perfectly correct, to reflect the Three Powers and how a relationship embraces them
let us talk turkey and be dead accurate.
I can say to her…
"Come here my little "Partner-of-Equality-in-a-Power-Exchange-Relationship-
Where-Equality-is-the-Equal-Right-to-have-Needs-Met!"
Whoa Nellie, that is a mouthful.
Or I can say…
"Come here slavegirl."
The former is accurate, the latter makes her wet.
If you are a card-carrying member of the Politically-Correct-Labeling-Police, then
you will have issues here, because your opinion is neither sought, nor counted. It really
does not matter what she is called outside her relationship, and if anyone thinks so, they
need a life.
There is control of the Three Powers to differing degrees, but they are still
tenderizing the same fundamental rump roast. Lest you be fooled, the masters in Wayne's
group all carved their roasts in different ways, even though cooked in the same oven.
Many friends and those I respect whom own slaves, do not share my exact niche, or
practice of the Three Powers. That fact does not preclude them being friends, worthy
masters, or from using the nomenclature of choice. "Slave" is just a sexy word used to
summons the girl to her knees. Nothing more. It re-affirms her headspace and that is
always good. All that really matters, is the slave understands the scope of the Three
Powers with their master, and are able to serve and obey. But, it is your choice. If you do
not like the word, find another. It is no skin off my ass. Just do not argue "slave vs.
submissive" in front of me.
One last word on the word "equality" when describing a master-slave relationship.
 Some people seem confused and even upset at the use of the word, when interpreting a
master-slave dynamic, from both sides of the fence. Many of submissive inclination get
their knickers in a knot when it is even suggested they are not full equal partners in their
relationship. Others are equally passionate that they have surrendered their equality,
recognizing their master as "more equal" if not superior, or even omnipotent in their
lives. Both arguments are offensive. The polar extremes blur the reality with emotion
and rhetoric, by debating moot points of irrelevancy.
Equality as a word used in conjunction with master-slavery must be realistic. The
issue is resolved with three simple questions and answers.
Do both master and slave have equal rights to have their needs met?
The answer is yes. Their needs are different and complimentary, but no less valid
than the others.
Are both equal in society?
Of course. You cannot conspire to break the law and no master's vision, rules, or
contract are above the law, or can strip a slave of her legal rights and liberties.
Can both master and slave equally make decisions within their relationship?
Here the answer is no. The slave has, from a fully informed position, given control of
decisions to her master, subject to her continuing consent (see Theory of the Two
Decisions), and within the parameters of the powers agreed to.
The only other time equality really becomes an issue is welting each bum cheek
equally, or clamping each nipple equally, but even then it is optional, and the master's
decision is final. Spoil her if you must.

Mind Fuck #3 - "Spotlight"

Traveling to a new city was always fun. It opened up new areas of exploration with
his slave, not just geographically. The removal of 'local exposure' enabled exploration of
things they could not do at home.
Arriving, they checked into the hotel. Making sure the room faced the parking lot on
the first floor was easy, and a detail she paid no attention to. It was an important
oversight though and had she noticed, it would not have made the slightest difference
anyway. He chuckled to himself.
"Unpack our clothes please pet. I am going to prepare to use you after dinner."
"Oh shit," she thought.
 When he didn't tell her what was coming, she knew it would be new and difficult.
"Yes Master" she replied.
Unpacking, she kept a watch from the corner of her eye.
The hotel had an excellent dining room and dinner was memorable. Several courses,
a little wine, followed by dessert, coffee, a liqueur and they were sated. He smiled across
the table. The love they shared was truly unconditional.
"Give me your hands please pet."
She reached across the table and looked into his eyes.
"Who are you?"
"A slave Master."
"What do slaves do?"
"Serve their Master."
"Whose slave are you girl?"
"Proudly yours Master."
"Goodgirl. Tonight I think I will show the world that."
She shivered, yet again having no idea what this devil-master had in mind, but she
would obey, or hoped she could. They returned to the room hand in hand.
"Call room service and have them send up a fruit platter and four bottles of water
please pet."
"Yes Master, she replied, though the thought of more food almost made her retch.
"Strip and put on that short black trashy nightie I bought you last year. You don't
need the panties."
She was not a stupid slave, she knew how exposed she would be in it and she thought
of the room service man. The little thing was see-thru and did not cover her pussy or ass.
Everything would be visible.
"Ummmm, Master, the room service man will be here shortly."
"Yes I know, so hurry up. And when he arrives, let him in and make sure he brings
the cart right inside the room. And bring the chit for me to sign, then you can escort him
out. Take your time while he is here pet. You are beautiful and I suspect he will enjoy
seeing the charms I own. Now go! If you are not changed by the time he is here, your
next few days will be a living hell."
 Unhappily she did as told, and soon returned in the nightie.
"Lovely pet, come here."
She crossed and stood beside him.
"Open your legs girl, I want to feel you", and she obeyed.
She was panting and ready to cum when the knock finally came. It was hard to tell if
her face was red from arousal, or knowing a complete stranger was about to see
everything she owned in a state of sexual need.
"Answer the door slave."
The next few minutes seemed endless to her. Technically she was dressed, but her
body was obviously exposed, extremely aroused and the Bell Hop knew it, enjoying
every minute. After what seemed forever, she brought the chit to her master.
"Do you normally get a tip for Room Service?"
"Yes Sir, but I feel I already have received one. The lady is very beautiful."
The scoundrel wanted to fuck her, and he chuckled inside.
"Ah well, yes, thank you. I suppose she is. And in that case, she has saved me some
money. I guess that makes me some sort of pimp and she a hooker."
The slave froze fearing what might come next, but the master just signed the chit and
the Bell Hop reluctantly left. His slave was beet red. Jumping from the chair, he grabbed
her by the hair.
"Very nicely displayed slut, now enough fucking around. I said at dinner you would
be shown to the world and one Bellman is not the world."
He slapped her tits and growled at her.
"Who are you?"
"Your slave Master" she moaned.
He slapped them harder this time.
"Wrong answer slut. There is a man here now who thinks you are my prostitute."
He pulled some cuffs from his pocket and bound her wrists together. Dangling from
the ceiling was the rope he installed earlier. Binding her hands over head, he turned her
to face the window.
He stepped back and flicked on the spotlight, also installed earlier and aimed right at
her. She could feel the heat and squinted at the bright intensity. He shut off all the other
room lights. Mercifully, the drapes were closed. The nightie had lifted when her hands
 were tied off. Her ass and cunt now bare and displayed.
"Too bright for you slut?"
He grabbed the blindfold and secured it in place.
"Get your legs apart slave", and he slapped her ass.
"Farther" and this time slapped her cunt.
She moaned.
"Enough of this trashy little nightie," and he tore it away.
"Well now, aren't you the brazen little slut, standing with a wet cunt, bare tits and
hard nipples, exposed for all to see. Spotlighted and bound like in some ancient slave
market, on display and about to be sold. Do you think this is how those young harem
girls felt, knowing someone was going to buy their cunt?"
She was silent, but her head swayed. Pulling out a riding crop, he started pointing out
her features, mimicking the Sultan's auctioneer.
"Step up and look at this fine female flesh. Almost virgin! Here is a warm wet cunt fit
for the Sultan himself and yours for just forty gold pieces. And these tits, beautiful and
ripe to suckle, made for breeding. Many years supply of milk, just for you. Never go
hungry again with this fine cow."
Pulling her ass apart, "And this tight asshole is barely used at all. It will bring many
nights of tight pleasure. Look at this ass, so well formed, round and perfect for a
whipping everyday, like every slave needs."
He pried open her mouth.
"Just forty gold pieces and these lips are yours. Perfectly made for cock sucking.
Remove her teeth, when she is yours, for hours of gumming pleasure.
Yanking her head back he went on.
"And this throat, the lines and suppleness are ideal to accommodate even the biggest
of you. Forty pieces of gold and your friends will respect your good taste in owning a
slave with a throat made for swallowing everyone's cum."
She started to laugh, and truthfully he had to contain himself from laughing too.
Instead he slapped her face.
"You laugh girl? This is funny? Let's see who wants to see you naked. If you didn't
notice before, we are facing the parking lot on the ground floor, you slut. Did you not
notice that? Did you think I wanted this crummy room, when we could have had the
penthouse? No slut, I needed this to show you to the world. It's dark outside and you're
spotlighted. Should I open the drapes? People will be able to see your face and wet little
 cunt, slavegirl."
"Answer me! Should I open the drapes slut?"
Being displayed was her worst nightmare.
"Please don't Master," she sobbed.
Tears ran down her cheeks knowing he would anyway.
"You say you don't, but your cunt is soaking wet. Which is it girl? Do I believe your
words, or your cunt? Which can you control?"
A sob came from her throat. He slapped her ass.
"Well now, let's see who is outside."
And he opened the drapes. She heard the rustle and struggled against her bonds,
trying vainly to bring her legs together. That would not be happening. Each thigh
received a vicious welt from the crop and she moaned.
"Keep those legs apart, slave."
Then he growled into her ear.
"Well anyone out there can see the slavegirl. You shameless slut! Your cunt is
dripping wet. Shall I give them a good show and let them see you get finger fucked and
cum?"
"No please, no Master, I am begging you, please stop."
He laughed maniacally and squeezed her tits until she screamed.
"Beg all you want slut, but the curtains don't close until you cum in front of our
audience, whomever it is out there and be thankful I don't sell your sorry slave ass, if
they even want a piece of you."
He thrust three fingers deep inside her cunt. Soaking wet, her hips snapped
involuntarily.
"Let's see if they like seeing you ass fucked."
"Oh gawd no Master", she wailed and he had to cover her mouth.
Moving behind her and without warning, two fingers thrust deep up her ass. She
screamed and he covered her mouth again.
"I am going to count to three, slut. You know what that means. You cum, or I sell you
to whoever is out there."
"One… two… two and a half."
 She was thrashing and moaning and ready to explode.
"Two and three quarters."
Now she was just trying to hang on.
"Three! Now!"
And he rammed another finger inside her ass while pinching her clit.
They were a memorable series of orgasms. Just how many wracked her body, neither
knew, or cared. They rolled on and on, as more were demanded and taken, until there
were no more to be had. Collapsing, hanging by her wrists, head down, exhausted and
mortified at having been so brazenly used in front of gawd knows who, she sobbed. He
had no doubt when she could think again, she would have trust issues with him. She
would be angry at so public and irresponsible a display. Old people, religious folk, gawd
forbid, even children may have seen her debasement. Yes, he thought, she will be angry.
And that could not be allowed.
He stepped in front of her, ripped the blindfold off and slapped her face.
"Look at me girl. Now you know what a monster you are enslaved to. You made a big
mistake kneeling for me didn't you bitch. I don't give a flying fuck who saw you naked,
bound and cumming like a street whore with fingers up your ass."
He paused and could see the realization sinking in. Anger was brewing and the fuse
had been lit that would explode her trust. She spat in his face!
"You bastard, let me down," she screamed, the fury etched on her face.
Grabbing her by the hair and locking her mouth closed with his fist, he forced her to
look him in the eye.
"You fucking bitch! You don't trust me!"
He stepped away to the side. It took a few moments for what she was looking at, to
sink in. Then she started to laugh or cry, he couldn't tell.
"You bastard" she whispered. "You fucking bastard. Gawd I love you."
He just laughed and laughed.
Yes, the drapes were open… but the blinds were down.
 Chapter IV - TPE

Four Pillars

Four, or five years into exploring the master-slave genre, it was my good fortune to
meet a gentleman who influenced my life for years to come. John became both a friend
and a unique source of knowledge about people and what makes relationships tick. That
should not have surprise me, because it was his vocation. John specialized in family
relationships as head of psychiatry at a leading local hospital. His credibility was rock-
solid, with more degrees than a thermometer, and an alphabet soup of professional
credentials. But it was John's compassion and ability to communicate that earned him the
respect of many. Down-to-earth, calm, thoughtful, and funny, he and his wife, Barbara,
were good folk and good friends.
We spent evenings over dinner, telling stories and sharing the ironies of life. Often,
after a wonderful meal, we engaged for hours in conversation about relationships. I
shared my interest and growing knowledge of the leather life, S&M and master-slave
dynamics. While John did not participate in the leather lifestyle, he understood its
attraction for me. We bantered for hours, comparing traditional marriages with the
values represented in master-slave unions. He loved to smile when a pretty slave in
leather collar and cuffs, refilled his coffee.
While John and his wife never expressed a personal interest in the lifestyle, there
lingered a suspicion that Barbara might well be a closet spankee and John indulged her.
However, it would have taken a masterful interrogation scene to get them admitting it.
As the long discussions evolved, we delved into relationships. What sustains them
our focus. John presented what to me was then a controversial premise, the notion that
loving relationships can be measured, and are built on four foundational pillars.
"For a loving relationship to exist and endure," he explained, "it requires the support
of, and can be measured by, four pillars: Intimacy, Affection, Communication/Honesty
and Sex."
After pondering the notion of Four Pillars for about thirty seconds, I started laughing
at the mere notion that relationships could be measured at all, except by gut feel. Then I
launched into an attack on the specific Pillars and his cockamamie Freudian psycho-
babble. Hey, I was young, what did I know? And, of course I attacked. Being the product
of the 60's and 70's generation, I believed relationships were made of mythical romance
and indefinable chemistry. Arguing vociferously that other elements of relationships
were more important than Intimacy, Affection, Communication/Honesty, and Sex, John
 indulged my rant.
"What about romance? Trust and love?" I contended. "Surely they're at least as
important qualities on which to build, than these Pillars? Your theory sounds like chick-
flick fodder."
John weathered my diatribe. He enjoyed my passion, but before long proceeded to
teach me a lifelong lesson in relationship reality.
"Trust, love, romance," he explained, "they're wonderful traits to nurture. But they
are the product of the Pillars, not the foundation. Affection, Intimacy,
Communication/Honesty, and Sex are the pillars, love, trust, and romance, just
outgrowths of them. Whether it's a master-slave, or a vanilla relationship, for it to be
healthy and endure, all four Pillars need to be strong."
He made a compelling case, but not without his dry humor.
"If one of the Pillars is damaged, the relationship is weakened," he explained. "When
two are in bad shape, it's wobbly-wobbly time. Three Pillars gone and you have a one-
legged table. It isn't very useful, unable to support anything for long; and with a crash
inevitable"
"And," he laughed, "If all four pillars are gone? It's time to get yourself a dog."
Understandably, John was disappointed that most people do not regularly inspect the
health of their Pillars. It would be easy and fun to do.
"Relationship professionals can help when one of the Pillars gets shaky," John
explained. "This is the point at which couples should seek help. But, too often, what's
happening gets shrugged off as bickering."
"When two, or three Pillars are shaky," he added, "some people do begin to think
about help, but oftentimes they fail to act until there is just one Pillar still standing.
Unfortunately, it's then, often, too little, too late."
It reminded me of some sage advice from a teaching professional at a golf course. He
said one day, that a wise golfer takes lessons when playing at his best. The Pro can then
take him to the next level. Taking lessons when playing poorly, becomes merely an
exercise in regaining performance lost.
Put the Four Pillars theory to the test. Try it out on past relationships. Whether they
were vanilla or otherwise, measure how well Affection, Intimacy,
Communication/Honesty, and Sex stacked up, or where the weaknesses lay. Perhaps your
partner failed in some areas, or maybe you see personal patterns of behavior that need
work.
My youthful arguments to the contrary, time has validated John's assertions. For a
loving relationship to endure the Pillars must be strong. The pillars are real. They
support the romance, trust, and love we enjoy. Combined with responsible master-slave
principles, the Four Pillars offer a tool for structuring your vision and life for many
years of happiness.
Periodically, sit your slave down and check your Pillars to see how they are doing.
Promise her some memorable bum welts as a reward. Think of it as checking the oil in
your car. In this case though, the dipstick is a cane. You are the master. It is important to
you.
So let's examine the Four Pillars in the context and setting of a master-slave
relationship.

Intimacy

Intimacy within a loving master-slave union is a powerful Pillar; and one many in
this lifestyle work on to an extraordinary degree. It is a necessary bond within all
relationships, but especially when exploring a journey fraught with risk, as the BDSM
culture often is. For many masters and slaves, risk activities are part of their path and the
accompanying intimacy an important paving stone on that highway. There are countless
ways to create intimacy. The simple initiative of empathetic listening is a strong act of
intimacy, and sharing dreams of life together, yet another. To those enjoying the S&M
arts, physically using a slave to get into her mind, probing and nurturing the submissive
feelings, are intimate acts in the extreme. Correspondingly, letting her see your creativity
and the vulnerabilities of courage it takes to use a slave, is also a huge act of intimacy to
be savored, and one that constantly grows.
There are many ways to use a slave. Each is different from the last, by exploring
techniques, mindset, style variation, and the complete range of human emotion. As
master, it takes courage to go there, and she should appreciate that you open yourself,
letting that creativity out, showing a side of you the public may never see. That in itself
is a wonderful feat of intimacy shared privately.
It had been over two hours now. The ebb and flow rhythm worked beautifully and he
was beaming inside. Exhausted, but pleased and delighted.
It was her first public scene and they had the whole rooms attention. Not that they
noticed, or cared. She was too far-gone and his focus was undivided. The crowd was
concerned for her safety, but he was not. This was not some adrenalin amusement for the
audience, but rather intended as a huge step for a dedicated slave, by her lifelong
master.
He could read every flinch and nuance of her body. He had spent years learning it
like a maestro painting his definitive work. She responded as he knew she could and
would.
 He had worked inside her head for months now, creating the mindset needed to take
this step into the public domain. She was very shy and modest. This was tough for her.
He was confident of her readiness, though everything had risk, and he had prepared for
a backfire, if it occurred.
It all needed to work on several levels. That was the challenge. Not so much the
scene, his physical skills being unquestioned, but ensuring she maintained undivided
focus on her master, in such an intimate way, before the public. It was the mental aspects
that represented growth and the challenge, making this a big step. For the first time her
trust would be on display, not just her tits. Her ability to focus on his voice, his breath,
his words, simple as they would be, were important to make this work.
"Breath girl". "Focus girl". "Come with me."
The scene developed slowly, working to release her mind, yet he had grown fierce as
the clock ticked relentlessly on. She was passionately crush kissed and shocked at his
unexpected public display of affection. His nails clawed her, every inch of her body was
slapped and pinched, growled at, bitten, spit upon, kicked, whipped, caned, and flogged.
The animal savagery, intensity, rhythm and timing swirled up and down in peaks and
valleys, through sudden hair yanks, to grinding hard kisses, then only to be pushed
violently away, the bonds on her wrists keeping her upright.
She flew up and down with him, following helplessly, being taken in a way and
deeper than ever before. He watched her eyes glaze then close. Her hands squeezed the
bar, but eventually could no more.
The paddle inflamed her, but the cane drew blood. His blood-smeared hand engulfed
her face and the raw smell of life filled her nostrils. The other hand encircled her throat
exposing her neck to the razor sharp knife. His growl cut to her soul.
"Be still girl or you bleed" she heard whispered over and over.
There was nothing else she could be but frozen in the reverie of her master. Then the
sudden feel of cold steel between her legs. She was too far-gone to realize it was only the
handle. A face slap and another soul-savaging kiss collapsed her against his chest and
she hung limp.
Appearing dead to many, but flying for her master, she was in happy-happy land.
Her legs and arms were useless, no voice, just ears hearing. That relentless, reassuring
comfort of "goodgirl".
There was no recollection of being over his shoulder, or blanket wrapped, or taken
to a quiet part of the floor. Nor did she remember the convulsions. Time had no meaning,
but when her eyes opened, she felt and saw his boot on her neck, pinning her. Her arms
had somehow wrapped around his other leg.
He was smiling at her. She was aware the effort he had put in. His clothes were
soaked through. She was where she belonged. The intimacy they had just created would
last for days and a lifetime. The shared trust and courage inspired their unbreakable
bond. It had been a madhouse of animal savagery and passionate intimacy. He knew
what it had taken for her to obey, to release and affirm her unbridled trust. He was
pleased and she was ecstatic.
Intimacy in our lifestyle is hard for the vanilla world to understand.

Affection

Affection too, is a Pillar that takes many forms. In talking with vanilla men, it is easy
to quickly conclude most do not enjoy the touchy-feely style of affection that many
women do. Yet, tactile communication is a big part of affection. Sometimes the affection
of an unexpected hug is worth a sermon of words and a hand on the thigh while enjoying
a drink, equally so. But, more than anything in this lifestyle, a sharp pull on her hair,
while pinning her to the wall and "Who are you girl?", anytime, anywhere, works
wonders for a slave and her master. It is not hard to see how trust, romance and love can
grow from such simple things.
Who are you pet?
I am a slave Sir.
And what do slaves do?
Serve and obey their Master.
And whose slave are you girl?
Proudly yours Master.
Goodgirl.
Grab her by the hair, look into her eyes, ask those questions, then bite her nose.
Everyday. Beautiful words. Powerful sentiments.
It takes thirty seconds. Just do it.

Communication/Honesty

Without belittling good vanilla relationships, for the need is as genuine there as
anywhere, communication, and particularly honest communication, make up the third
critical Pillar in any relationship foundation, but never more so than in the master-slave
dynamic. Aside from obvious and traditional needs to communicate with our partners,
 the added element of sado-masochism in the mix, makes us high risk, high reward
people.
Willingness to take risk is a common trait seen in many masters and slaves. Not just
the adrenalin junkie persona, but in fact, the courage to buck society's relationship norm,
and embark on master-slavery, is accepting an unusual amount of personal risk.
Increased risk requires quality risk assessment, as an integral part of what we do. Mostly
the master does that, he is leading after all, but the slave is not bereft of responsibility
here too. All that boils down to communication.
Whether each couple's niche of the Three Powers is all encompassing, or very
particular, heightened communication is vital for happiness, self-esteem and safety. Even
the proverbial TPE slave, who's only right is to leave the relationship, bound by her
integrity and word, has a voice and opinions. Reiterating again, a slave must use her
mind and often communicating is as much a service, as blind obedience. My favorite
phrase, "She has an opinion, just not a vote" relates well that indeed, a slave is required
to communicate.
Too often, slaves will internalize issues leaving them unsaid. She is unable, or
unwilling to communicate them for any number of reasons, some issues within herself,
other times issues with her master. That it happens at all is amazing, that it happens
frequently, dumbfounding. That cannot be allowed. Masters are not mind readers,
despite our saying so and much ballyhooed omnipotent nature. However, there are
techniques to teach a slave to overcome communication issues. All masters need to learn
those techniques first, and then teach them. She will learn the value of those lessons the
easy way, or the hard way, but she will learn them. Brand that on her soul.
Her ability to talk to you is important, but no more so than the opposite…
communication by the master to his slave. It is equally critically important, and an area
that begins to highlight the difference in styles of mastery. It also often reflects how far
along the master has traveled in his own growth into the lifestyle.
Many masters feel it is their right to withhold any, and sometimes all information
from their slave. There are slaves that love this style. These masters believe information
is power, and thus take a destructive passive-aggressive approach to disseminating
information. Others completely over react and blab on endlessly, unwittingly trapping
themselves in the ancient proverb that "talk enough and eventually you will talk yourself
into a corner." Yapping on forever is the popular new-age approach to mastery, a sincere
but whimsical desire to be the kinder-gentler dominant so fashionable now. Or it can be
the exact opposite, the bully dominant with a shotgun approach.
While in rare cases the noisy style works, more often though, it is a master behavior
rooted in a lack of experience, or any desire to actually manage real power. It is a
disguise, a strategy to confuse by misdirection. Pummel with words and say nothing but
flowery romanticized rhetoric suitable for fantasy, but essentially unlivable. It is also
usually short lived. Noisy behavior often reflects deep-seated dominant issues, and a lack
of confidence. Almost certainly it reflects a need for validation, either from himself
through repetitive words, or from his slave. The latter reveals a deficiency in
understanding the slave mind.
Listening to verbose dominants speak to their slave, often reveals they are actually
practicing a form of bottoming from the top. The dominant is usually completely
unaware of the practice. He is essentially, in roundabouts ways, asking permission to act,
rather than accepting he already has that permission, and she is looking for leadership.
Dominants need to find the courage to act; and stop constantly asking permission,
through subtle word trickery, for powers already controlled. That is what bottoming from
the top is and a slave will sniff out that power vacuum in a heartbeat.
The healthy path is somewhere in the middle. Talk to your slave of course, you both
need it, but know when to put a gag in it.
Sustaining the master-slave dynamics over a long-term requires the master enjoys
speaking with his slave. It's funny how that works, but it does. Realizing slaves cannot
live in a communication vacuum; successful masters are quite skilled at communication
and willing to speak with their slaves about anything. Moreover, they insist on it. They
like it. The trick is controlling when, where, and how, those talks occur. Establishing
speech protocols, rules and channels of communication early, and enforcing them
rigorously until habits form, is the key.
Every master needs to prevent a slave from dominating the relationship by endorsing
the wrongly held notion, that she is allowed to natter-chatter endlessly, whenever and
however she wants. Read closely here slaves, for we dominants are not surrogates for the
neighborhood ladies morning coffee club. Our Creator put a gag between our legs for a
reason, and a slave needs to know it is used, when hanging onto that fluffy notion.
Besides, we enjoy using it and it is fun. The choking-gurgling-gulping sounds emanating
from her throat, as her contribution to the coffee club natter, is delightful repartee.
However, communication is moot unless it is honest. The ethical standard of both
master and slave must be founded on this value. That is why communication is attended
by honesty as a relationship Pillar. If one does not speak honestly and openly, there will
be terrible consequences, and communication becomes merely a façade. But, that
obligation to truthfulness goes both ways.
We demand honest communication from slaves to create a level of vulnerability, by
stripping away protective walls, thereby gaining access to her core need to be of service.
It also protects masters from errors, thus minimizing mistakes. Honest communication by
a slave becomes a form of redundancy for the master, a backup for his decision-making
process, and his own fallibility. That benefits both of them.
However, the vulnerability demanded from a slave is often what she protects most. In
our lives, be it as kids, teens, or in adult relationships, we have all said things in good
 faith, that have later been thrown back in our face in hurtful ways. We naturally then,
build emotional and communicative walls to protect us from that pain. Sometimes the
walls are subconscious, other times built knowingly, sometimes they are temporary; and
once in a while you run across a person where it is tragically permanent.
When the pain is deep enough, we are reluctant to let anyone past the wall in
subsequent relationships. That is natural and a very human reaction. It is part of the fight
or flight psychology of instinctual human preservation. Many vanilla men, but also less
mature masters, work to create that openness, only then to throw it back in a slave's face
during times of stress, or anger. This immature behavior only creates pain, hurt and
mistrust, in some twisted act of vengeance. We have all seen it. It can destroy a slave and
will certainly kill the relationship. There is no nobility in the act. That it probably
happened in previous relationships makes it necessary for the master to work diligently
with his slave, creating channels of communication she trusts. Only trust will penetrate
the wall and only responsible, consistent behavior, communicated over time, will build
the trust.
Honesty is an important element of that responsible consistent behavior. You cannot
demand her trust immediately, and she would be a fool to offer it unconditionally, right
out of the gate. But it will grow in time as the relationship builds towards ownership.
Honest communication builds trust faster than all other things combined. There is much
more about this important issue later, when addressing Punishment and Conflict
Resolution issues in Volume II.
The coin has two sides though, and each master has a responsibility to utter honesty
too. He should not even be giving it a second thought. It is easy for him; after all, he has
nothing to hide and controls himself and the relationship. He has no need for dishonesty.
Honesty develops trust, and trust opens the opportunities to be who he is. In asking a
slave to submit, the master is essentially asking her to place her life in his hands, both
figuratively and often literally. Could you, or would you, give someone that power who
was not honest? A rhetorical question to be sure, but take it to heart. As master, you have
a responsibility to your slave. Lies, mistruths and omissions will kill her trust faster than
a whip cracker breaking the sound barrier.
When considering your calling to mastery, did you really think owning a slave was
the one-way street, of getting service and obedience, without obligation? No Sir. There
are incumbent responsibilities, key of which is to communicate honestly with your slave.
There are no free rides. Mastery is not for the lazy, dishonest, or mute, and the great
masters revel in that freedom. Surely, there was some cosmic purpose in play, to find
"trust" beside truss" in the dictionary.
So, just how important is this little thing called communication?
Read on Macbeth, you are about to find out.
She kissed him and he smiled.
 "Have a wonderful day pet. I hope the project works out".
"Thank you Master, I'll see you for dinner, have a good day at the office".
It was 7:30 and they were both off to work. They stepped out only to be hit by a blast
furnace. Even this early it was almost 100 degrees and the day promised to be a
scorcher. She got in the car and headed to the freeway and the twenty-minute drive to
work. Already she was thinking about the pressure packed day that lay ahead. The
presentation had to be ready for five o'clock and it was her responsibility.
Parking the car she stepped out of the cool interior and into the furnace once again.
Yikes she thought, this is ugly and scurried into the office. Settling into her cubicle she
spread out the file and hunkered down for the long haul.
Oh gad, does the air conditioner not work? She was roasting and it was only nine
o'clock. Engineering came by and threw her some new drawings that had to get into the
presentation. A sales memo arrived with the new forecasts. Dammit, she thought, more
revisions. Her boss finally stuck his jerk ass nose into the cubicle to see how it was
going.
"Is the air conditioner working?" was all she asked.
"No", came back the response, "and its 101 degrees in here". The headache started
right then.
By noon she was soaked in perspiration and feeling the pressure. She could not even
stop for a bite to eat. The deadline was nearing and she was not close yet. She grabbed
the phone and screamed at someone to get the air fixed. It was 105F and her headache
was bordering on a massive migraine.
By two, it had struck, her head throbbed and she was beside herself. The heat was
oppressive and her boss was more of a useless prick than usual. The migraine was in full
force. She felt soiled and dirty. She tried to focus, but her mind kept wandering to her
Master and getting home, knowing he would make this all better. For five years she had
been his slave. He controlled every aspect of her life and she had never been happier.
But today was a bitch.
After the three o'clock team meeting, she didn't know if she would make it. The
project would, but she might not. It was the worst migraine she had felt in years. Her
dress was ruined with sweat, she felt like a wreck, looked like a wreck, and just wanted
to get home to greet her Master as she had been trained and did every night. Then, he
would know what to do and make it all better.
By five o'clock she was burnt toast. The project was submitted, the pride she should
have felt was well founded; but she couldn't think about it anymore. She had to get out of
here and get home. It was that, or death would be welcome compared to how she was
feeling right now. Never was it worse. Smelly, soaked, covered in sweaty grime, looking
 like a used guttersnipe; her head was on fire. Migraines were like that, but knowing so
was no consolation for the misery she felt. She practically crawled out the door. Her car
was a distant mirage across the waves of heat rising from the tarmac. But she made it,
turned the car on and pulled out for the quick ride home to master's care.
If it did not hurt so much she would have screamed. The car air conditioner failed
and the sauna outside was nothing compared to the furnace in her car. To top off the day
from hell, there was a traffic jam and her usual twenty-minute ride in air-conditioned
comfort, turned into an eternity of pain. She paid for her sins, inching along behind the
devil himself, in his pollution spewing truck. That was her end, her limit and she vomited
on the passenger seat.
At last home, she could hardly wait to get inside and try at least to greet her Master.
She was so miserable it would be difficult, but she needed to. For five years she had
never failed, and greeting him was as much a part of her being as her arms and legs. She
opened the front door and stopped dead in her tracks, stunned. He was standing right
there in the hallway, towering over her and looking in no mood for antics.
"In the dining room, now slave. Over the table, dress up, legs apart," he growled.
"Yes Master" seemed to come from her throat.
It was brutal. He sodomized her without any preparation, or lube and it hurt. He
plunged and took his pleasure over and over, roughly, without any respite for the
screaming pain, now not just from her migraine, but her ass as well. She cried. She liked
being feminine for him and she was anything but. She smelled awful, was filthy dirty, her
makeup a mess and her hair was like year-old straw. The taste the vomit was still in her
mouth and the pain was intolerable.
With a final hard plunge and grunt, he yanked her hair and it was over. He twisted
her to face him, the dress still hiked to her waist. It may have been blood, or maybe
semen that dribbled down her legs, but the tears streaming down her cheeks were real
and unstoppable.
"Take a shower and come back to greet me properly girl". She went; and did; and
then finally, taken into his arms.

Well, that was quite a day for the slave. It probably will not make her Top Ten list of
all time favorites. But, there are lessons galore to be learned from what happened that hot
and miserable day. Lessons are there, for both master and his slave.
What you just read is a true story. It happened to a couple whose niche was inclusive
of the entire Three Power dynamic. Their niche, most folks would describe as master
and slave, same roof, twenty-four seven, total power exchange. They were not new to
each other, or the lifestyle and enjoyed a deep love. Both were very experienced, happy,
 intelligent, and knowledgeable. He ensured she knew exactly the life she would lead,
long before offering his collar. She had understood and flourished in accepting his
structure. For context, the slave had the right and means to leave the relationship if she
chose, but these were her only rights.
So what happened?
Over the years, I have used this example in talks about communication between a
master and his slave many times; and it has generated some remarkable discussions.
Realizing that most have never been in this situation, the discussions revolve around
answering a series of questions about what possible feelings a slave would have on this
unusual but "could happen to anyone" day, and the responsibilities of the master. There
are no right or wrong answers to the questions. It is just an exercise in examining a
slave's mind and exploring the living reality of master-slave dynamics.
So to discuss and understand the lessons here, first, project yourself into the shoes of
the slave. That is where it all starts. Go ahead and try to describe what she might feel
standing in that hallway, dirty, in pain, anxious to do what she has done every day for
five years, and found great comfort in. Greeting her master as taught, but suddenly
unable to, what thoughts would be going through her mind at that moment?
Then, the same question again as she lay over the dining room table, being
sodomized like never before. Sure, they had enjoyed rough anal sex many times, but
never quite like this. This would be a slam-fuck magnified to violence in the eyes of
many. The extraordinary pain and circumstances were contextually quite different to
anything she had ever experienced.
So what would she feel?
Happy? Angry? Pain obviously. Rebellion? Serenity? Unsure? Submissive?
Confused? Frustrated? Hurt? Peaceful? Abused? Perhaps she felt nothing at all?
Had her master overstepped his authority? Had he gone into the realm of abuse,
perhaps not intentionally, but hurt her, perhaps even harmed her, regardless of intent?
Were the tiny strands of the trust cable beginning to unravel, ping and snap? Or, was it
all good, just another day in the life and times of a modern day consensual master and
slave?
The answers after countless discussions, whether from slaves or masters, are quite
revealing when this little piece of BDSM drama is on the discussion table.
Overwhelmingly, most express a degree of distress and confusion as the predominant
slave feeling in the hallway. Perhaps she felt some uncertainty, or even a smidgen of
concern. That seems like a reasonable and natural response. Being unable to greet
master with his time-honored protocol disrupted her equilibrium, even for just a moment,
before the bombshell command was uttered. That reaction could be anticipated, for
though slaves like creativity and spontaneity, they find comfort and security in ritual.
 But, that question is a red herring designed to lay foundation. It does not address the
main issues to come. What she felt in the hallway becomes irrelevant, except as a
sidebar about the importance of structured ritual, consistency, and the removal of the
ability to perform the ritual. To the slave, it demonstrates in spades, just who controls.
She cannot take her master for granted. It is his right to change procedure, not hers. So
as much as she loved greeting him, she did not control it. That in itself is a good lesson
to reinforce who she is yet again, forcing her slavery to the forefront of her mind. This
girl though, had that natural tendency anyway.
The real telling question is how she felt in the dining room while being served up to
the devil, like a skewered rump roast on the altar of pain. Oh how big a question this is.
It addresses a key issue all masters have to address and teach. It is a perspective, that
given the time to understand and digest, she must buy into and believe, to appreciate the
healthy style of her master-slave relationship.
With few exceptions, the common response from slaves projecting their feelings into
that given situation, includes a dab of anger, a dollop of confusion, a dash of hurt, a
pinch of rebellion, a teaspoon of broken trust, a cup of abuse and a pant load of pain in
the heart, not just the ass and head. In short, they are pissed off to one degree or another,
not really happy with what is going on. They are ready to yank his balls off (respectfully
of course), though almost all say they would obey and submit to their master, deferring
the hell they are going to raise until later, when the body no longer hurts; and after a
good cry.
So in short, there are a lot of negative feelings going on here.
And what if I told you, that confronted with this situation as master, if you yanked
her by the hair when she tried to lay on this “you’re a borderline abusive prick that hurt
me” shit, and said right to her face, that ALL the negative feelings she genuinely felt
were her own fault, her own doing, and cut the crap slavegirl, would you believe me?
Well believe me, because it is true. Her fault. Master is right. Again. As usual. Suck
it up princess.
Do I hear... "Oh really O-Mighty-Master-Arrogant-Ahole-Author-Dude"?
Yes, really and here is why. You can apologize later.
When she entered the house, he was standing in the foyer and since he owned the
house, one can safely assume he had every right to be there. He then simply growled,
“In the dining room, now slave. Over the table, dress up and legs apart.” That is it, he
said nothing more. It certainly appears given the inclusive nature of the Three
Powers they practice, he is well within the confines of his structure, vision and rules. He
did not tell her to go jump off a roof. It was simply a reasonable command, summonsing
his slave to be used, and the behavior he expected.
 Now, her master is no dummy. He could see the moment she walked in the door, she
looked like shit and probably had a headache. Hell, he had lived with her for five years.
He could read her like a book, her moods and conditions. He should, it was a big part of
what allowed him to do what he enjoyed, so he had studied them. But this day, he had a
plan for when she got home, saw her walk in, saw she looked like shit and then
implemented his plan without hesitation, or further ado, because he also had rules that
she knew inside out, backwards and forwards, like it was her holy script. Without giving
it another thought, he relied on her to obey them; after all, he had spent years ingraining
them into her. She had a responsibility to obey them. That she did not, resulted in all
the negative feelings she was now trying to lay at his feet, and there was not a snowballs
chance in hell he was going to take that from his slave.
She knelt beside him in anguish and misery, a carryover from the night before. He
calmly let her reflect on what had occurred. Silence and time were wonderful tools.
“Are you feeling better pet?”
“Yes Master, the headache is gone, but I am confused and would like to talk about
last night.”
“Yes, I am sure you would. The only thing I have been more sure of in my life, was
the first time I masturbated, being sure to do that again” he chuckled.
She smiled at his humor. She loved him for it. It was so part of his mastery and
personality.
“You were pretty upset last night pet, and feeling a lot of negative emotions along
with your migraine. Is that right?”
“Yes Master and confused at why you did all that knowing I had a headache.”
“Well let’s start at the beginning, pet. First of all, I was delighted you obeyed in
what was a difficult moment for you. You showed no hesitation, obeyed exactly, did not
whine, pout, or give me any attitude. Your obedience was no less than I expected and
was delightful. Give me a kiss girl.”
She smiled meekly and obeyed.
“But you also disobeyed last night causing a lot of angst for us. Your disobedience
resulted in all the negative feelings you now have and deprived me of my right to rely on
you. All of the negativity you felt, and still feel, was caused by you. We are going to talk
this through pet, because I do not want a re-occurrence, or permanent damage done.
Do you understand?”
“No Sir, how did I cause it all?” (She just said “no” word, but we will get to that).
“I should not have to go over this again after all these years pet, but I will and you
will re-learn. You were disobedient last night by ignoring a core contract rule I have for
you. As you know and forgot, you are obliged to tell me your feelings whenever you feel
it is necessary. The rule is there for a reason. Do you remember that rule girl?”
“Yes Master, but…”
“Wait, pet, you will have a chance to talk shortly. We are going to walk through this
slowly, it is important.”
“I have rules for you for a reason, not the least of which is to protect us both. Now, I
am not stupid. It did not take a medical degree to know something was wrong when you
came home. Knowing you so well, it was easy to see you had a headache. What was
hard to decipher, was how bad the headache was, so I relied on you. I am not a mind
reader girl. The telling me your feelings rule, is there for occasions exactly like this, so I
know if you are in difficulty.”
“At no time last night, when ordered to the dining room, did I say do not talk. You
made that decision yourself, assumed powers you are not entitled to, with disastrous
results. Look at you pet. You spent the night in tears, in pain and rather than my being
able to deal with a situation that required a different approach, your disobedience
resulted in what you now feel.”
“A simple ‘Master so you know, I have a migraine’ when you entered was all it
would have taken from you slavegirl. That would have been obedient and allowed me to
proceed, or change my plan as I saw fit. That you did not, has resulted in the angst you
feel now, all of which is needless, and could have been avoided.”
“I did not overstep pet, abuse you, or use you in anyway not entirely within the scope
of our relationship. I did what I always do, used my slave and acted to enrich us in our
peculiar ways, knowing it meets our needs. You are a precious slave, the most precious
thing in this world to me. I love you and take ownership of you seriously. Had you told
me you actually had a migraine, in all likelihood I would have changed direction on the
spot.”
“Making things difficult for you at times, is something I do for a reason. You well
know that by now. Inconvenience and enduring is an essential part of your slavery. But
I am not without compassion girl. Fucking you in the ass when you do not feel like it is
one thing, doing so when you have a savage migraine is quite another. Instead of being
bathed and put to bed, pampered and cared for, you spent a night unable to deal with all
the negativity because you were still dealing with the migraine. You created a lose-lose
situation.”
“You had a rough day at work yesterday and I understand that. It does not excuse
you from obedience pet. What it does do, is mitigate how I will punish you. Do you
understand and want to say anything girl?”
She smiled up at her master. She had made the right choice so many years ago.
 “Yes Sir, I do understand. I understand my mistake magnified consequences out of
proportion. I was not trying to be deliberately disobedient. Your being in the hallway
was just so unexpected; and then not being able to greet you and with my head the way it
was, I just did not think. Really, I was just trying to be obedient and do what you
wanted.”
“Yes I know that pet. Effort is good, but you well know that results count. This is
like the surprise birthday party you threw for me last year. Remember my asking you if
you were planning one and you said no? I punished you anyway for telling a lie, albeit
the punishment suited your good intentions and was a hair pull, a slap on the bum and a
good laugh for everyone. But you were disobedient and no precedent was going to be
set regardless of your intentions. And so it is now. You were disobedient, the
consequences of which will not harm us long term, but cannot be ignored. Have you
anything else to say?
“Just that I will learn Sir and am sorry.”
She smiled inwardly. He made it all so simple. She had erred, made a mistake that
resulted in her hurt feelings, and took away his time this morning to deal with her, which
she hated doing. She knew he would, he always did, because it mattered and she loved
him more for it.
A little patience and able to talk it through made her feel better, able to serve again,
relieved to understand what had happened, a lesson re-learned, the feelings from
yesterday gone. That he cared enough to take the time to explain gave her warmth. She
looked forward to the punishment, knowing it would be all behind them then.
He smiled at her. My goodness she had the soul of a slave. How lucky could a man
be, to have his lifelong partner so loyal, so dedicated, and so very intelligent?
“Goodgirl, come with me pet.”
It is interesting, that in reading the manuscript before publication, this section,
dealing with honest communication between a slave and her master, is one of the longest
individual sections of the book. That seems fitting because it is so very important.
As for the slave’s punishment, it reflected her disobedience. That she had not spoken
of her feelings, he did likewise, and the lovely slavegirl spent the day preparing four
different meals for dinner that evening, because he refused to communicate what he felt
like eating. It caused a lot of unnecessary work, but not without benefit. Both smiled a
lot that afternoon, enjoyed their intimacy, feasted on a delicious dinner, and froze the
others for another night. Lesson learned, punishment administered, forgiven and
forgotten and they moved on.

Sex
 Ironically, or perhaps predictably,John’s explanation of the pillar concept to
relationship building and particularly the sexual component, as a relationship stanchion,
produced rampant discussion and skepticism. Coming from a generation maturing
sexually in the 1970’s, sex as a building block seemed over-rated, if not a preposterous
notion. Recognizing its importance was easy, but as a relationship pillar, it made
no sense. Elevating physical intimacy, while ignoring caring, love, romance and trust,
just did not sit well. Perhaps it was the sexual liberties experienced in the university
years, or a carry-over of the free love concept from the 1960’s, but there was a more
generally accepted, casual nature towards sex in the pre-AIDs days, than appears today.
Discussion of this topic was often colored through that perspective in those early days.
John’s premise called for a re-evaluation of the sexual component within a relationship
and its importance. Where the 70’s generation, while not exactly diminishing sex for
its’ romantic properties, experienced it as a regular, often expected; and certainly a
normal part of the dating process, however casual that may be. For many in that
generation, sexual partners frequently changed, with no regrets, or obligations. In
hindsight, that perhaps diminished the power sex held as part of a loving relationship,
but that is a question for sociologists to explore another time, in another place.
While initially rejected, time has proven John’s sex pillar assertion correct, even
more so in the master-slave genre. For many master-slave couples, the sexual
component remains very active, long after diminishing in typical vanilla marriages.
Perhaps it is sustained by the creativity and unfettered approach to sexuality. Regardless,
the heightened sexual awareness found in most master-slave relationships, combined
with the importance of sex as a Pillar, produces a beneficial synergy.
"So Mike, are you making love to your wife tonight?"
He looked up and laughed.
“Pal, you and I are both hitting the magical half century age mark. We are old,
decrepit and if there is anyway I can avoid it, I will. Are you?”
“No Mike, she is your wife for cripes sake. I have my own little pet to pat.”
And therein is the difference between a master and his best vanilla buddy. Where
Mike’s sexual needs move to dormant with age, the master developed habits over the
years, of planning all week how he will use his slave on Saturday night. It is a
wonderful habit to develop and one wise master’s use. Assumedly, the relationship with
your slave is the most important aspect of your life and sex is a pillar supporting that.
Use her and fuck her. It is a human need, hers and yours. Use sex as it was intended, to
build the love, trust, romance and the caring you seek. Oh, and make it raunchy, it is
fun.
One of the traits earmarking Wayne’s colleagues in the group, was an observation
made over the years, that a master-slave dynamic sustains romance better than typical
vanilla relationships. While slaves were used often, sometimes sadistically; and to a
casual observer, in ways that seem outrageous at times, romance was always part of the
equation. It was never far from the surface. It was not always stereotypical flowers,
dinner and a bottle of wine, but it lurked, ever present, often manifested in tender acts of
lovemaking in their peculiar style.
The strength of the sex component in your relationship is the easiest of all four
pillars to measure, particularly as you age. Just ask yourself how often you fuck your
slave? There, that was easy, all done. Keep in mind though, as sex is a hard pillar to
build on, Viagra is a pillar to build your hard-on.

Three Tenets of Mastery

“Come with me please David,” I announced one evening. “I want to show you
something.”
Many years had passed since those early days in Wayne’s group. There were too
many shared experiences, fun and laughs to remember them all. For me it was about
soaking up everything I could find and for the others, using their slaves in an atmosphere
of peace and tranquility. By now, I owned a slave for many years, and we lived the
lessons learned. Vision and structure in place, we were happy. Wayne’s lessons had not
gone unheeded. But time moves on and things change. Wayne was ill and the group had
essentially dissolved. The time had come to start repaying for the privileges received
over many years, from a treasured group of friends, who had welcomed a young
neophyte with open arms. It was my turn now, to pass on knowledge, share experience,
help where it would do some good, to mentor an aspiring dominant.
One of the areas I was able to contribute to Wayne’s group was in developing the
concept of the "Three Tenets of Mastery”. By assimilating several lessons together, it
was the aim to develop a cohesive working creed all could grasp, to learn the art of
mastery. It was not intended to suit all practicing in the BDSM culture, but rather
specific to those in the master-slave niche. And it works as intended.
It is sometimes said, nary an original thought passes through my head. To be truly
original takes an enormous gift of creativity. But we all have different strengths; and
assimilating divergent information has long been one of mine. The Three Tenets of
Mastery is the result of just such an endeavor. If it could be done, the goal was to create
something accepted as infallible truth as a guiding principle of mastery. The Three
Tenets are the basic beliefs and guiding principles for a master to remember and practice
every day. They are a collation of truisms that encompasses all mastery, accounting for
the Three Powers, the slave mind set and the master’s conduct. It has become a valued
creed for many in this lifestyle.
With those magical words, David and I were off, alighting the stairs to my bedroom,
a place sacrosanct in its privacy. It was my secluded sanctuary, away from everyone, a
place for just my slave and me, but not tonight.
We stopped in the corridor outside the door and sat on the bench to talk.
“In a moment David, we are going to go into the bedroom where my slave is
awaiting us. So you know, she is kneeling, so do not be surprised. She is going to tell
you something you are wise to never forget. In a few minutes, she will explain to you
what mastery is from a slave’s eyes. I could just as easily tell you, but you need to hear
it from a slave’s heart. Listen and learn what she says, for when you have, you will have
mastered almost all there is to learn in conducting your life in control of yourself and a
slave. She will speak of three simple tasks. They will be far easier spoken than
mastered. Accept that and dedicate yourself to developing these skills, for they will
serve you well. They must never be forgotten. Guide your daily life by them. You are
going to learn the “Three Tenets of Mastery.”
“This way has been chosen to introduce these, in hopes you never forget tonight, that
what you see and hear will be seared into your mastery. A woman, speaking from her
slave heart, on her knees, will talk about what is needed to master someone. You have
promise, the potential to be a good master to someone. Learn these Tenets well, because
it is now in your hands.”
With that we rose and entered the candlelit bedroom for a few moments never to be
forgotten.
She knelt before a chair. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she wore only a
simple white robe. Around her neck was my leather collar. Each wrist and ankle also
had leather cuffs locked in place. Her back was rigid and straight; wrists crossed in the
small of her back and her eyes were respectfully lowered. What a sight. She looked
dedicated and beautiful. It spoke volumes to who she was. Admitting to a smidgen bias;
she was magnificent in my eyes. She waited patiently for direction.
“Sit in the chair please David.”
“Kneel back and relax please girl. You may look up. Now explain to Master David,
the "Three Tenets of Mastery” and why they are important to you.”
“Yes Master”. She smiled up at me, then looked to David and began.
“In choosing to be a slave Sir, there are three things that I find great comfort in.
They are simple things my Master never forgets, nor allows me to forget. These are my
Master’s concepts, where he got them I don’t know. They are equally valid being
explained to you by a Master, but this is my perspective.”
“I have been told that learning these Tenets to perfection is most of what being a
Master is about. As a slave to my Master, I can say that is very true. Explaining these
Tenets to you is so much easier than the task before you. But you will learn them, I am
 sure and it is my hope you find happiness in them.”
After a pause, she continued.
“The First Tenet of Mastery is to never, ever forget your slave is with you because
she does not want control. It is so easy to forget, but you must not let it happen.”
“That is the essence of her decision to accept your collar and surrender control of
her life to you. It does not matter the degree of control in your relationship compared to
others. That is not at all important. But she has offered you control and you have
accepted that responsibility. Please use it.”
“There will be a tendency over time, to drift away from this very core Tenet and the
reason you are together. Please never default power back to your slave by neglecting
your responsibilities. As a slave there is nothing more lonely and desperate than to feel
neglect from your Master. She does not want power. It is yours. Use it.”
“Remember too, as the love deepens between you and your slave, it becomes more
difficult to ensure structure and provide guidance. This love and dependency is beautiful
and I know in my heart I serve well helping my Master, so he can depend on me.
Encourage that and please believe, it does not nullify in any way your control. The style
of mastery you develop will be compassionate and strong and not diminished by loving
your slave. You have control and she wants you to have it, every moment of every day.
Believe in her, do not forget what brought you together.”
“As the vanilla pressures push inward on you both, it is difficult to live and maintain
your structure as the days, months and years go by. Always remember, she made the
decision to be with you because she does not want control, and trusts you to exercise this
responsibility. Make your decisions and do not fear the consequences. She will
understand and be grateful.”
She looked at me and I nodded. She paused for a drink of water. Reflecting on what
was just said by my own slave, a rush of memories flooded back of how true her words
were. As my love for her grew, it became more difficult to master her. There was
emotional risk for me and I did not want to lose her. Until I believed in her need and
accepted the first Tenet, my emotional vulnerability put us at risk.
As the daily grind of building a family, a career, and all the varied issues of life
enveloped us, it took enormous focus to stay on track. Remembering who we are and to
practice those values every day, before being overrun by the vanilla world is hard work.
Those pressures are real. Sometimes, it is easier to just abrogate your responsibilities as
decision-maker, from the sheer fatigue of distraction. Be strong, seek advice, explore
about recovering from burnout and rely on your slave by communicating with her. She
will be of enormous assistance, if you ask.
“Goodgirl, carry on pet”.
 “Yes Master”.
“The second "Tenet of Mastery" is learning to handle your own errors without
defaulting power back to your slave.”
“This I am told is the most difficult of skills for a budding master to learn, and it
takes years to truly master the art and techniques. But, I believe it is worth learning.
From your slave’s perspective it is a critical skill.”
“We know what happens when I am disobedient. I am punished. Being disobedient
is not something I ever make a goal, or consciously do, but when I am, I look forward to
my punishment. It serves many wonderful purposes for me. It cleanses, releases, re-
teaches and provides the structure I need and yearn for Sir. But, when my Master errs,
then what happens? How he handles it affects me deeply and I am very sure it affects
Master too.”
“You will make mistakes, and how you handle these errors will largely define you as
a dominant. I have heard some Masters snivel and say ‘Oh baby, I am so sorry, I will not
do that again’ and then watch in pain as power flows back to his slave, something she
does not want. It is not the way to handle an error; and it is not something a slave ever
wants to hear.”
“You of course, will develop your own style as time goes on, and if I may be so bold
to suggest a better way than the snivel-style. What has always been effective because it
touches my slave soul, is when Master cares enough to sit me down and explain his
actions and say…
‘Pet, I made a mistake. I understand the mistake made, cannot undo it and
cannot promise it will never happen again. But, what I can promise is it was not
caused by malfeasance of my heart towards you. If you expect a Superman-
Master that will never err, then you have learned nothing I taught. You are living in
a fantasy world to think so. I am human. I love you and will continue to love you.
You are my treasure. But while I understand and will be diligent in the future, this
mistake in no way abrogates your responsibility as my slave. Do you understand?’
“By taking this, or a similar approach, he has told me what I already know, that he
made a mistake. He is a man, a Master and accepts his responsibility. That is all a
slave asks for Sir. We do not need an apology. We understand when you locked the
collar on, to accept your errors and humanity. You have acknowledged and explained,
that is all we need.”
“It is a huge relief deep in our souls to know you will not allow power to revert back
to us just because you are human and erred. We do not want that. We want the power
structure maintained. That is the First Tenet again. We want only to be your slave,
understood as one, and appreciated as one. That you have once again expressed how
important we are, is icing on the cake. It stirs my heart when Master does that.”
 “Sir, one last point; by taking this approach, you create a personal freedom to make
the decisions we entrusted to you when offering ourselves. We know you will make
mistakes. We do not like it, but we would in your shoes too, undoubtedly many more in
fact. Do not let fear of your errors paralyze your ability to decide. Please be
courageous. Your slave trusts you are wise, that is why she knelt in the first place.”
Indeed David was hearing how to handle one of the thorniest issues in the master-
slave culture. Years of learning, practice and diligence go into perfecting how to handle
self-errors, without defaulting power back to the slave. Aside from armpit sex, which
still gives me trouble, it was a difficult skill to acquire in the lifestyle.
David was entranced and listening intently, absorbing as much as possible, as I had
so many years earlier. It was exciting to see another take to the concepts of power
exchange the way he was. Wayne would have been pleased seeing the reaction and
understanding the need he felt.
“Go ahead pet, the third Tenet please.”
“Yes Master” and she smiled.
This is a personality trait a man either has, or does not. There was virtually no skill to
acquire, and little way to improve the genuine interest held when a man comes into the
lifestyle. But, it is as equally important as the first two Tenets and great masters have it.
“The third Tenet is very simple, perhaps the simplest of all really.
"Just love women."
"Be honest and secure enough in yourself, to show you do.”
“That is it, just love what we are and represent. Not just the sex and our sexuality,
but everything that makes us uniquely feminine. Men and women are very different. If
you love us for our femininity, our love for crying at old movies, our love of flowers and
our need to talk about feelings, then you are far ahead of the game and on the road to
great mastery. It must be genuine though. It cannot be contrived. Love us for who we
are, show compassion and interest and if you enjoy our company, let us into your
soul and heart. We can offer so much joy to you.”
“Misogynists have no place in the realm of mastery and responsible, serious
slaves have built-in radar to detect latent misogyny. Just love women.”
And with that statement she looked to me with the loyalty and devotion I am so
accustomed to; cognizant of; and never take for granted.
David said nothing as we descended the stairs to the others, but his brain was
whirling.
Here then, is a crucial element of mastery, the “Three Tenets of Mastery", so simple
to explain, yet so difficult to master. Those understanding the importance and acquiring
the skills, have achieved mastery. They get it.

Who Really Has The Power?

“You know Carol, you really had the power even though he was using you. These
dominants are great at mind fucks making you think they have control. None of it is
real.”
Carol had been a slave for many years. She looked at the young girl so new to the
lifestyle.
“Honey, let me tell you something. When you are bound and flying so high that
speech is impossible and euphoria is extreme; when all you can hear are his words, it is
real honey. When you know deep in your heart you are surrendered with every ounce of
your being; and when he yanks your head by the hair and you feel a razor sharp knife on
your throat, and your life is literally half an inch from ending with one inadvertent slip…
it ain’t no mind fuck dear. It is as real as the wetness between your legs. The power you
give is as tangible as you and I standing here.”
The girl just stood quietly and finally nodded.
“Yes, I can see that when you put it like that”, she said.
Then she turned and facing Carol asked.
“How did you know I was wet?”
Right up there with the infernal “slave versus submissive" debate is the “slave
ultimately controls” one. It will drive you crazy if you let it. Rather than yanking at my
hair, debating what is essentially semantics, I will be very clear right now, right from the
outset.
The master has the power. Is that clear enough? It is obvious, tangible and very
real. Theory, philosophy, logic, or any other psychobabble argument one wants to throw
at this question becomes moot, when the reality of responsible mastery is present.
If you think otherwise, you have likely never created, or lived in, a real life master-
slave relationship, or you would know. Those spouting nonsensical rhetoric that a slave
ultimately controls, are those with no interest in this particular niche anyway. Their
needs are unfulfilled in it and thus, too often, intolerance and mockery reign supreme.
They seek to dismiss and trash the whole concept of real power exchange, in a
magnificent shower of vitriolic prose. But, there is also another reason.
To think the master does not control, is to deny the reality, or deceive oneself about
any sincere power being offered and accepted. By definition, she is not a slave if she has
 power, so do not be deluded thinking otherwise. This is not rocket science. Master
equals power, slave equals no power. Power was explained earlier, so what is so
confusing?
The slave has the right to stay, or leave, but when she is there, the Master controls. It
does not matter the extent of the power agreed on between each couple. But, whatever
the niche of the Three Powers they choose, the master controls it. As long as she
remains in the relationship, she accepts her master’s authority as binding. If she leaves,
then she controls, but since she has left, there is no relationship, so the issue is moot. She
can have all the power she wants when there is no relationship, who cares then?
Now, argument is often made that as relationships grow in time, the master becomes
dependent, after falling in love with his slave. That fact somehow evolves to a
perception that she thus ultimately controls. He somehow loses power. There is
no “somehow” here. It is not even good logic to make that conclusion from those facts,
but many do. Supporters of the “slave controls” argument really try to conclude that
because a master allows himself emotional risk, that fact somehow nullifies his
dominance.
Folks, let me explain something about masters. Managing risk is what we do! We
take risk all the time and we love it. To argue that extending it to emotional risk
manifested as love for ones slave, as an argument for nullification of power exchange, is
just the flat out silliest argument I have ever heard.
In the preceding pages, expressed was that a master is encouraged to love his
slave, and doing so, does not diminish his mastery. You cannot have the argument both
ways. It is no fun if he does not love his slave, but he cannot love her and be her master.
What a quagmire of bullshit.
If dependency and love nullify mastery, it is a sign of poor mastery, not proof the
ultimate power rests with her. Masters letting that happen, have it reflect on their
vision and ability to develop and maintain a healthy livable structure. Or, it is simply a
mismatch of partners.
To control the slave you love requires one thing. You must unequivocally believe in
her slave mind. No if, ands, or maybes. You believe in her needs as much as you love
her. Now hold onto your britches, we are coming to what makes up the slave mindset, so
grab another beer and keep reading.
The more likely scenario in long-term relationships, where it appears the
slave controls, is that the structure the master produced and taught, is only sporadically
enforced. It is far easier arguing structural inconsistency results in a power shift to
vanilla, than it being total nullification of the loving master-slave concept. Enforcement
inconsistency creates problems, and when that happens, creation of a power vacuum
occurs. The slave is expecting certain controls in her life that are not forthcoming. She
needs decisions made and when they are not, the slave, through necessity, steps in to
 make them, and fills the power vacuum created through master neglect.
Vacuums do not exist in nature. They only exist when created artificially. That is
scientific law. It applies in power relationships too, and when created, to survive, the
slave will naturally fill it, consciously, or otherwise, and always unhappily. Unless the
master is able to maintain discipline, and more importantly acts to use the power he has,
creation of the void is inevitable. The great masters fill all the voids in a slave’s life.
Yes all of them, even that wet one down there.
Then there is the ‘Theory of the Two Decisions’.

Theory Of The Two Decisions

The “Theory of the Two Decisions” is a simple clear way to understand just exactly
what makes a master-slave relationship exist, who has the power and why.
A slave has two decisions to make. They are rights if you prefer, but more often they
are called consent. The decisions are that she can submit and she can leave, but between
those decisions, she has no rights, within the parameters of power agreed upon. She
consents, or she withdraws consent. Between those two decisions, a relationship exists.
Outside those decisions, it does not. The granting of consent is the granting of power.
Withdrawal of consent ends the master-slave relationship. Yet still, some will argue she
has the power, even at that point. They simply have not accepted, or believe she gave
control. Masters making this argument are not accepting responsibility for her and in
that case, she does have power. They are playing a mental bullshit game to avoid
responsibility.
Some people argue her right to withdraw consent ultimately enables and empowers
her in the relationship. It does not. That is utter hogwash. When she decides to submit,
she has given power for management of her life to her master. Assumedly, he is
motivated and skilled to handle it. She must respect herself and her master that she made
this choice and abide by her commitments. Within the confines of her decision to submit
(consent), and then to subsequently leave, the slave does not control. He decides and he
manages, not the slave. We have even defined exactly what he controls in identifying
the Three Powers. He controls the power, the path and the consequence. Doing it well
of course, is the Art of Mastery.
Yes, she has a voice, opinions, and must contribute in countless ways to their
enrichment. But, she does not control. Do not forget a critical element in play here, one
too easily dismissed by naysayers. The decisions exist, the relationship exists, the power
structure exists, all only for one reason. They both want it to! That simple fact makes it
real and legitimate. Theoretical debate to the contrary is irrelevant.
There is one last thing for aspiring masters to consider. It is the “Chicken & Pig
 Rule”.
Should your slave ever withdraw consent, make sure she understands your collar will
not be offered again. Do not play the psycho-slave-dominant-manipulation-game, of her
flitting in and out of your collar, treating it like a wardrobe accessory. If the collar
comes off, that is it, she is done, pull up the sheet, dead gone dead. Otherwise, it is an
attempt to manipulate and control you. She is effectively topping from the bottom. Then
is when you invoke the “Chicken & Pig Rule”.
“You know pet, I do love my breakfasts. Eggs are not my thing, but I do so love
bacon. And that is where you stand girl. You can be the Chicken or my Pig.”
“The chicken wants to be involved with my breakfast and give me her eggs when she
feels like laying one. But I want the pig. One who is committed to my breakfast with her
bacon.”
“So you have a choice, slavegirl. You can cluck like a chicken on the way out the
door, or you can kneel and oink for me like a good little piggie. Make up your mind, the
pancakes are ready.”

Apologizing For Master's Mistakes

“Owwww,” she yelped.

Her master looked down and jumped off her toe.
“Oh sorry pet, I didn’t see your foot.”
They smiled at each other and carried on re-painting the dungeon.
There are some kinds of apologies not requiring explanation. Some are products of
general civility, and others apply more directly to the master-slave dynamic. An apology
here was simply good manners, unrelated to their relationship. He would do the same
regardless of whose toes he stepped on, and had the grace to extend her that courtesy. It
is just something he does naturally, without thinking about, a sign of good upbringing.
What is relevant and somewhat controversial in the BDSM community, is whether a
master needs to apologize for errors made directly related to interaction with his slave. It
is controversial because many want it to be. They love getting their knickers in a knot,
then spewing the holy gospel according to Saint-Me. But it is largely unnecessary.
Apologizing to your slave is a style issue each master develops for himself, and is a
decision often based on the niche of the Three Powers triumvirate he enjoys. It is not
even that big an issue when analyzed in context of the whole relationship. It is simply
his personal style decision, which in turn he teaches his slave and is quite unimportant to
anyone else. That some think a master unwilling to apologize for his errors is a pompous
ass, just re-enforces why some matches never work; and busybodies love to poke their
noses into the wax pot. Of course, that is why many get their noses burned too.
 The decision whether apologies are necessary should be based on the niche you
enjoy. Understandably, those who work the casual play partner circuit, will likely have a
different opinion than a master enjoying the TPE niche. The levels of trust,
communication, personal knowledge of the victim; oops slave, sorry; are very different,
so different in fact, as to raise the question if they are even on the same BDSM planet.
But, that is cool, to each their own.
Many in the TPE niche do not apologize for their errors for the specific reason she
acknowledged and accepted his errors in advance at the time of collaring. It is that
simple. In that context too, she does not want them. They are an unnecessary
redundancy for her.
He knows this because nothing he does is cavalier in dealing with slave ownership.
He is in no rush to own arbitrarily, just to validate himself as a master. He is happy on
his own without a slave if that is the way it was meant to be. But, when he finds her, he
goes to enormous levels of energy and commitment to ensure she understands the life
she will lead when collared, and the rights she will have. He makes clear the risk/reward
ratios he lives by, the loyalty he expects, the responsibilities he accepts, and most
importantly, that she is not living in some fantasy alpha male romance novel view of
what slavery with him would be like. And, he does this all before collaring her.
Part of what she must learn in becoming his slave, is accepting his humanity;
accepting in advance any errors he makes, and is comfortable with that. He explains his
errors upset him internally; he does not like them and works diligently not to make
them. They happen though. She has no right, or need, to expect an apology. She can
hope for an explanation, and wise masters do that. Some folks will argue an explanation
is an apology, but then some folks will argue the earth is flat too. Ironically, a critical
component they often miss is that the slave does not want an apology. She is fully
accepting his errors in advance. Filling her day, are far more important issues.
However, if a slave needs guarantees that no injuries occur, or that mistakes are
avoided, a master can do so. It is easily accomplished. Just teach her not to enter any
relationship, vanilla or otherwise; and certainly do not play in the S&M world. Never
take a risk. Ever! The slave, or any woman for that matter, might be a tad lonely, bored
and boring, but she will not get hurt. There, done, no need for apologies.
If that is not a viable path to happiness, then she is going to accept there are risks, as
there are in all parts of life.

Mind Fuck #4 - "Kick" - The Final Frontier

For her first exposure to the BDSM world, she made quite an impression. In fact, for
any weekend, let alone her first, some would say she became a legend. Her name is
 now, and forever will be ‘Kick’. It all started innocently too.
She was new, brand new in fact, after having discovered and identified with some
aspects of the slavery lifestyle. Needs within her had awakened, ones she suspected
existed, but did not understand. After exploring online awhile, she summoned the
courage to attend a local munch. Days, perhaps weeks later, they met, how and when,
neither recalls now, but they talked about the lifestyle and discovered shared
acquaintances within the local community. They established a trusting and comfortable
rapport. She was more interested in the master-slave niche, than the less strict
top/bottom style and that suited him just fine. He had practiced mastery in the master-
slave realm for his entire adult life. He knew no other way. They had much in
common. Helping her would be fun.
On a whim, hoping she would accept, but doubtful, he suggested she come for a
summer weekend to meet friends near Detroit. They also lived in the
master/slave culture. Everyone could talk in a comfortable setting, without
presumptions, or pressure. It was strictly platonic, an opportunity for her to see the
lifestyle first hand, and talk with people who were compassionate and serious. These
were folks also understanding that master-slave was more than beating bare bums. It
was their way of life. Attending a fetish party was planned too, so she could see sado-
masochism up close, practiced in its many forms, from the silly, to the unskilled, to the
art form of mastery. She jumped at the chance.
And so her fast-track path to BDSM legend status began. No one could have
predicted the girl was a walking calamity, waiting for a place to happen.
Now, do not misunderstand, she is a delightful lady, smart as a whip, with a warm,
giving personality. She has even read this story and blushingly admits to its veracity.
As events unfolded, it was a comedy of misadventures, bad luck, and unexpected
results. On the surface, it seemed much was not her doing, but one can never be sure of
these things. Perhaps she is just jinxed. Regardless, it started innocently enough during
the three-hour drive to the Detroit area, and the home of friends.
It is a rare day, when knowing he would be around slaves, that the master did not
have something offbeat, or kinky in his pocket. One needs to be prepared for the
unexpected you know. As happenstance had it, during the long drive to Detroit that
bright Saturday morning, he had a remote vibrating egg and controller in his pocket. It
was not particularly new, probably between its last legs, so to speak, so it breaking while
holding it in her nervous hands, perfectly enthralled, was just bad timing.
She had never seen one before, and as they talked and drove, he gave it to her to
examine, being as she was so interested. Bad egg that he is, naturally the conversation
steered to the steamier aspects of the lifestyle, knowing that listening to erotic
adventures, while holding the silly vibrating chunk of plastic, would wet her panties, if
she even had any on. He had never seen a problem keeping a slave wet and aroused,
during a long drive. Just because he did not own her, did not seem like a good reason to
abandon the practice. But, I have digressed; that she was horny has nothing to do with
the story. That the egg broke in her hands though, was the innocent beginning of the
legend. STRIKE ONE!
Well, they arrived safe and sound, minus one egg. With introductions complete, the
girls immediately started into their gabfest about slavery, the dominant world, and
BDSM in general.
By mid-afternoon the master was bored. He decided to head up to the local sex shop
to replace his egg. Making the young salesgirl blush, he plunked their entire selection on
the counter and said, “Sell me one Love, tell me their features”. Her reaction to his
peppering questions is another whole story, for another time.
The one he finally selected was a new model, having just come out. Bloody amazing
thing it was too. Seven different vibrating settings, from high, medium, to low, those
were just the start. The thing pulsed, went up and down in crescendos, was irregular,
and god knows what else, but it would clearly be magic in a slave’s puss. Figuring out
the light sequence to know what it was doing inside her would take an Engineering
degree. So he just gave up, and made it flash like fireworks on the Fourth of July. It was
an appropriate effect for what it did to a slave’s libido. Delighted with his purchase, he
returned in time for supper, and the fetish party to follow.
Dinner was delicious, the hospitality relentless, and amid much laughter and
conversation, it was decided that as the master would be doing a long anticipated
caveman scene of controlled brutality with a dear old slave friend, Kick would be cared
for, and shown around by his best pal Dennis, (name quite necessarily changed because
of the Witness Protection Program). Now, Dennis is an accomplished veteran master of
considerable skill, who happened to be looking for a slave. With one dead egg replaced,
and everyone set to go, the stage was set for “Kick – Act II”.
What Kick saw that night is a mystery, and she has never said. The master was
consumed for a couple of hours, doing primal things to deprive a slave of what
innocence she had left, so she saw that, but must have seen more. As the night neared its
end, the debauched slave back from happy-happy land, it was obvious Kick and Dennis
were hitting it off. By the following afternoon, they would be exclusively dating. In the
meantime, Kick was enthralled with what she had seen. Even a young rookie could see
she was aroused in the extreme. Half jokingly the master said:
“The girl is in distressful arousal and needs to be taken into a dark corner and made
to cum.”
Dennis gave me that patented smirk of his.
“Go with him girl.”
 Dragging her by the hair, into a dark corner, she was plunked onto an old wooden
stacking chair. She was probably blushing, who could tell, but it was not lost on her she
was in a public dungeon, with people she barely knew, two hundred miles from home,
highly turned on, and ordered by a virtual stranger, to rub her cunt until asking
permission to cum. Holding her hair in one hand, and cupping her chin in the other, the
master stuck his face in front of her.
“You are going to obey, slavegirl. Diddle! Rub yourself, and keep rubbing until you
beg for permission to cum! I want to smell your need”, he growled.
The girl was so new, what might happen next, was anyone’s guess, but if she had
slave needs, she would obey. It was instinctual. She groaned; fingers were under her
skirt and her eyes closed tight. The grimace on her face told him she was close. He
heard it first as a shy, but urgent need.
“Please.”
“Please what?” he growled back.
In near pain, she groaned again.
“Please Sir.”
“Please what?”
This time, it was not a groan. The woman actually growled!
“Fuck! Please let me cum!”
She was a fast learner, or desperate, probably both.
“Now slavegirl! Hard for me” and he pinched her face with his fist.
She convulsed and exploded... and so did the chair!
In a flash, she was flat on her ass, cumming on the hard concrete floor.
The legend builds. STRIKE TWO!
In the morning, she was very quiet at breakfast. For once, the master held his tongue
at the theatrics of the exploding chair. She was genuinely embarrassed. She did not
understand that everyone was proud of her. She certainly did not need ridicule, or her
exhibition made the butt of jokes; not yet anyway. The teasing would come later. As the
other slaves had also cum during the course of the evening, conversation flowed there
instead. Kick was only asked if she enjoyed more than one orgasm.
She went crimson immediately. Who knew, when embarrassed, rather than giving a
shy answer, she was a ‘nervous talker’. Once started, she could not shut up. She went on
endlessly, eventually relating her entire sexual history in more detail than anyone really
 wanted. She got redder and more flushed, the longer she went on, apparently unable to
stop. At the end, everyone caught their breath. Apparently, she cums like a man, once is
enough, then sleepy time.
Dennis signaled, and the topic switched, instead telling stories of the many
slave reactions from the night before, especially when the new egg and its pyrotechnic
pulses, went down a slave cleavage. With great flourish, stories of drooling slaves
abounded. Their eyes pleading, but all too shy to ask, they had all wanted the devil egg
in a more personal place. It was great fun, and poor Kick had a chance to recover some
dignity.
After lunch, they packed up, ready for the long drive home. Dennis announced that
Kick was now exclusively with him, and congratulations ensued. In the driveway, they
said goodbye, and the master laughingly patted his pocket, ensuring his new, pulsing
buddy with there. Dennis was smirking and the master cackled.
Before everyone, Dennis declared he wanted Kick buzzed! The little-plastic-pleaser
intimately installed, the controller in master’s hand, he asked it be used relentless, all the
way home. With a solemn, yet mirthful pledge, the master vowed to initiate Kick into
the pleasures of the famed, master induced, mind-numbing-rolling-relentless-multiple-
orgasm, and all without naps in between. Dennis would have none of this one-and-done
crap anymore! No self-respecting master could tolerate that. No-Siree-Bob! If the girl
could roll, it would be done!
Kick was dressed in a long, flowing summer skirt, with knee high leather stiletto
boots, for the drive home. Shyly she piled in and they set off. The stage was set “Kick -
Act III - The Final Frontier”.
He chuckled on the short drive to the freeway, where the little adventure would
begin. He teased and she blushed. She got the egg inserted while maintaining modesty,
a knack many women have, much to his chagrin.
Mile One of the highway was the start, and the adventure began with a gentle low
buzz. By Mile Five, he could see she was a thrasher. Her legs would tense and
straighten, as her arousal built. She grabbed at the armrest, and her head sashayed back
and forth, eyes clamped tight, and lips curled back. At Mile Ten, he was into the pulse
settings when the first explosion hit. He was beginning to know the controller’s flashing
lights, and which settings were driving her insane.
The orgasm was so intense that her legs came up onto the dashboard, and she
thrashed about in oblivious pleasure. It was wonderful to watch, though tough on the
dashboard.
He dialed up another setting, and at Mile Twelve the second explosion hit, more
intense and violent than the first, if that were possible. Her stilettos were making a mess
of the dashboard, and more than once, he pushed her back into the passenger seat. It was
now confirmed, she was an habitual thrasher. Her legs and arms were all over, spasming
wildly. She had achieved her first multiple orgasm. But, it was not over, not by a long
shot. With more settings to explore, there seemed no reason to stop, though perhaps the
exhaustion on her face was a signal. Regardless, he ignored it, determined to report to
Dennis, that her final frontier was conquered.
If the second orgasm was wild, the third was surreal. He kicked the egg up a notch,
yet again, and she was out of control. She climbed backwards, half over the seat, almost
falling into the back. Her stilettos and fingernails flew around attacking anything in their
path. They were weapons, and avoiding them was becoming a concern. She shrieked
and moaned, panted and gasped for breath.
Wow, he thought, this egg really works.
With still one more setting to explore, he paused to consider the dangers.
Exploration of new frontiers is always fraught with uncertainty, and calamity could be
right around the corner. Looking around on the gorgeous sunny Sunday afternoon,
traffic was sparse. Scanning ahead, the road stretched on dead straight, nary a bend in
sight. It was time to explore the Final Frontier. Dialing her up to the top level, the
controller blinked red, a warning perhaps, but soon to be forever known as the ‘kick’
setting, a place where no woman had gone before.
The fourth and final orgasm was instantaneous.
Disaster struck. The Legend was born.
The explosion hit so suddenly, so violently, there was no time to prepare, no time to
avoid. The damage she wreaked upon the car was in the realm of the ‘truth-is-stranger-
than-fiction’. Her knees came up, she froze for a moment, nothing moved. Then like a
bolt of lightning, her head flew back, a guttural primal scream seared his ears, her hands
clawed at the car roof, and her legs shot forward. Savage instinctual, survival power
drove her legs. They crashed into the windshield, sharp heels first; and it was gone. She
had kicked out the windshield.
STRIKE THREE! YOU ARE OUT!The Legend is real.
For a moment, they drove on in stunned silence. As quickly as the orgasm hit, it was
gone. Immortalized forever, were words later spoken of that eventful moment in
BDSM history.
“I went from sopping wet, to desert dry, in the blink of an eye.”
Through the kick and the broken windshield, the car was never in danger. He never
lost control, or even took it off cruise control. There was no danger then. The erratic
driving and numerous near misses with the ditch, came later, caused by the insanely,
hysterical, belly wrenching laughter that ensued. Kick did not seem to see the humor he
did, she had more of an “OMG-what-have-I-done-I-want-to-crawl-in-a-hole-and-die”
 look. She sat in dead silence. The weapons were still on her feet, though the egg was
retrieved and thrown at him. Tears rolled down his face. Convulsing in laughter, he told
her there would be no fifth orgasm today.
The weekend ended fittingly. Kick, already now renamed, was not to telephone
Dennis until he did first. The call itself was memorable.
“Hello?”
“Dennis, it’s me.”
“Howdy cuz. Get home alright?”
“Sort of, listen, I need to tell you something.”
“Sure fire away.”
“I understand your new girl is coming to visit you next weekend.”
“Yup, looking forward to it too.”
“Yes, she is a nice girl, but I need to tell you something.”
He told him the story, at length, in detail, and with appropriate dramatic effect. He
was again, crying in laughter by the end. But, there was silence on the other end of the
line.
“Listen Dennis, it was hilarious, she is a legend already. I have renamed her Kick if
you don’t mind, but buddy, I have got to tell you. She is a calamity waiting to happen.
The broken egg on the way down; the exploding chair in the dungeon; and now
Superwoman and her Stiletto’s of Steel.”
There was a pause on the line while neither knew what to say.
But, listen Dennis, the good news is she is multi-orgasmic. The bad news is you have
to cancel her visit. You cannot afford the damage!”
The pause was longer this time, then his response, so definitive of the art of mastery.
“I will slave-proof the house.”
 Chapter V - Expanding Expertise

Creating Your Vision

“You are not going to believe the patient I saw the other day,” Barry said.
“It was truly inspiring.”
The slaves had cleared, and returned to enjoy après dinner liqueurs. We enjoyed
these small dinner parties with lifestyle friends. With the kids away, it was a rare night
to entertain like-minded souls for the evening. Barry was an urologist, and he and his
slave had been friends for years.
“Do tell please Sir” my slave smiled and asked.
And the tale began.
“It was the end of the day, and I was actually on my way out, when old Jimmy
arrived in the waiting room. Jimmy is one of those old Irish coots you hear about, but
rarely meet. He has more personality in his little finger than all of us combined. The
guy never stops. He has the energy of a man half his age, has an endless stream of
banter, is a habitual flirt, and is as harmless as the day is long, or so I thought. For
eighty-four years old, he is quite the scalliwag.”
“Anyway, he never shows up without an appointment, but here he was, and he looked
upset. Hell, at eighty-four, you have to see these patients without appointments. You
never know if they will be around for the next one, so I ushered him into the examining
room.”
“So, what I could do for you, Jimmy?”
“Well Doc, I think I have a situation”, he said.
“Ok Jimmy. What is the problem?”
“Well, as you know Doc, thirteen years ago my wife kicked the bucket. Couldn’t
keep up with me I think”. He chuckled at himself.
“Well a man like me has needs. You know… needs.”
“I knew what he meant, but was almost afraid to ask… Go on please.”
“Well, Doc, I tell you how it is. After she died, I made an arrangement with a call-
girl. You know what they are don’t you Doc? Kind of like a hooker, only more
expensive, and he chuckled. She visits me once a week to look after my ummm… needs.”
“My mouth probably dropped open in amazement listening to this old coot. I was
totally flabbergasted. He should be in a retirement home, and he is sitting here in my
office telling me about his hookers.”
“Well anyway Doc, I think the wench gave me something this week, I have the itch.”
“Gave you something? I asked.
“Aye lad, you know, the clap or the VD, something like that. You got to fix me, Doc.
I have a date with another wee lady Friday, and well, you know, I have a bit of a
reputation to mind. ”
We were all laughing at Barry’s story by now.
“Well anyway”, Barry went on, “I checked him out and it turns out he was as clean
as a whistle, and he left with the twinkle back in his eye.”
That did it. In a thunderbolt of revelation, it came to me. The slaves mumbled
something about how cute of old Jimmy, but I saw it from a totally different
perspective. Cute had nothing to do with it.
Launching to my feet, grabbing my slave by the hair, I pronounced by royal decree
my new Vision. A Vision so profound that it paled all previous thoughts to a noble
calling I might have had. Standing at the table, slave’s hair in hand and eyeing Barry
and his slave, the proclamation spewed forth.
“Henceforth girl, you are to forget all that fancy-schmancy Vision crap I spew at
you. You are to obey and serve in keeping with my new goal in life. Call it a Vision… a
Purpose… call it whatever you like. But, from this point forward, my new goal is to
reach eighty-four years of age, and be worried I may have caught some
scoundrel disease from a high class hooker!”
My slave rolled her eyes and gave me that ever so solemn, “Oh-Yes-Oh-Mighty-
Master-O-Mine. As always, your wish is my command.”
I bit her nose… “You are a smartass slave sometimes, but I love you anyway.”
Now there is a Vision of quality and value, right up there with: “The slave radiated
beauty, gliding into the room, adorned in flowing translucence, eyes sparkling in peace,
neck bound in leather..." oh, but I digress, wrong kind of vision. I got lost there for a
moment.
There really is no magic to being a great master.
True, there is much to learn when exploring the BDSM spectrum. But, the path is
one’s own choosing. Along that path, aspiring masters place no limits on their quest.
Instead, they seek to acquire, not just S&M topping skills, but add context and style to
the journey, with a clear understanding of their goals; what is healthy, and enables them.
It all becomes part of their Vision.
To control and manage a slave successfully over time, you first need to understand
yourself so well, so thoroughly, and on so many levels; that creating a vision for your life
becomes easy. You need to know your strengths and weaknesses. The path becomes
clear because of your having identified the values important to you, and can articulate
them beyond just vague ideas. Do not be afraid to express and live them. They are your
pillars, not unlike the Four Pillars of a Relationship.
Perhaps they include religion, or emotional courage, and honesty. Bravery, civic
commitments, value in the human spirit, and doing the right thing, at all times guides
your actions, and become part of that vision you live, insisting it remain
uncompromised. Faith in these ideals is your life, and ties your slave to you forever.
She will embrace any elevation to a just life.
Your goals, ambitions and standards, your moral code, and the path you choose all
combine to create your Vision. It is your personal map, constant, yet flexible enough for
changing circumstances and growth, but focused enough to guide you along the path of
your choosing. It is your fundamental leadership tool, and without it, the quality and
direction of leadership can run aground on a shoal of uncertainty and misdirection.
She pulled out my seat at the restaurant, as a gentleman would for a lady, the
invitation to sit implied. She enjoyed being of service, and thought this an appropriate
thing for a slave to do.
Submitting was new for her. We had just begun exploring the need for structure in
her life, dating and enjoying each other’s company. Perhaps, in time, it would lead to my
owning her, but in the meantime we had fun as she learned of my vision and structure;
and I of her needs and dreams.
Leaning over before sitting, I whispered in her ear.
“Pet, I appreciate you intention and effort. But if you embarrass me again by pulling
out my chair in a restaurant, the speculums go in the freezer. I do not practice reverse
chivalry in public pet. Now you know, and now you have learned.” I smiled.
“Yes Sir”. She blushed crimson, sitting down as quickly as possible.
Teaching this simple bit of behavior is culled from rules created from my vision for
our relationship. The girl in that simple act learned the importance of privacy for me.
Our unique relationship was personal, not to be worn on the sleeve for society to see,
unless I chose to. That was part of my vision developed over time.
Having a vision is not necessarily in and of itself, a defining characteristic of
mastery. Many vanilla people have them too, without the handcuffs of course, but with
the same attention to detail and purpose, all successful masters exhibit.
 It is often said power is an aphrodisiac. Studying people in power, be it in
government, the military, arts, professions, religion, or industry, reveals a common
characteristic. Besides the commonality of power and sexual attraction, they have a
vision of what is to be undertaken, where they want to go, and the standards by which
they intend to achieve. Their vision is rarely limited in scope, but it is always focused on
the primary source of their power.
The same is true of masters. The difference is that simply they orient their vision, to
achieving a successful personal relationship. That is the source of their power and
important to them. They look upon their relationship as the most important part of their
life. To them, it is two people with unique needs, where focus and clarity of purpose
results in a healthy, dependent and happy relationship. Masters prioritize their life as all
people do, and the interaction with their slave tops the list. It had better top her list too,
or fireworks will ensue.
Mastery is a relationship style, and the vision is the framework for his game plan.
Wise masters set goals thereby creating a vision, not unlike the process other success
driven people do, in all walks of life. The master creates and executes the overall plan,
with goals, standards, and contingencies. He does it with his own brand of style and
personality. Manifested through his rules, he communicates it; relies on it; and ensures
the slave relies on it too. She needs to know, that in surrendering power, the
leadership she needs and craves is in the hands of a man who has some inkling of what
the hell he is doing. That this is a slave’s need, is as important as the master knowing it
is. Slave needs are unique, and masters must learn to understand her mindset. It too, is
an essential part of the vision.
Creating a vision is part product of the character values within each person, a lot of
thought, and some easy techniques to assimilate ideas into a concrete overall plan. A
vision does not mire itself in unnecessary detail. Specifics and application come later,
once there is an overall focus. Nor does a vision represent some flowery oration of oaths
and vows. It is not a mission statement, or romantic claptrap designed to seduce. It is
who you are, where you are going, the standards you live by and apply. It is the big
picture. A vision prioritizes your life, identifies what is important to you, and by doing
so, allows a potential slave to understand whether she can live in your structure.
So, how do you create a vision, and what goes into it. Truthful self-examination is
the place to start. This is no time for fanciful unrealistic dreams, but rather a critical self-
examination of who you are, where you are going, and how you plan to get there. It is
the “no bullshit” time for any master. Be careful though. There are many sweet-talking
slave girls, all to happy to flash a cute butt, and try to direct your vision. This is not
about her needs; it is about her buying into yours. Do not let what you know works for
you, be compromised. Have goals, a plan, and ambition. Do not negotiate your vision.
Be firm. Be strong. Be noble and humble. Be her rock.
Lastly, if a slave does not like your Vision, then that is her loss. She is a poor match
 for you.
"Blindfolding her is not creating a Vision. It is a neat trick, to be sure. Use it to
enhance, nurture, and mind fuck, but soon enough, it will be removed, and she will see
the path you have chosen. Make it real, focused and healthy. The blindfold cannot hide
a lack of vision, or inconsistent structure.”
Mentoring circa 1980

Bad Mind Fuck

It is worth pausing a moment to understand the ramifications of the previous section.

It subliminally addresses a fundamental change in the practice of mastery, observed in
the past few years.
Too often, it seems nowadays, those representing as masters, are not more than crafty
bullies. I like to think those are the minority, but a significant enough minority, to
influence perceptions of the lifestyle. Some bullies are obvious, others quite devious in
masking their true style of uncaring selfishness.
The previous section essentially reads that a vision prioritizes a master’s life,
allowing a slave to know him. Unquestionably, that is valuable and important. But
many ‘new-age masters’ do not want a slave knowing who he is. Disclosure would open
up fraudulence to scrutiny, exposing shallow manipulations, and perhaps elements of
misogyny.
Quality masters will not fuck with a slave’s head negatively for selfish reasons.
They can get laid without the subterfuge. There is nothing to hide, and they understand
that slaves need to know expectations. A slave learning your vision, and core values,
represents a large measure of understanding those expectations. This is not a game for
her, or you. It is fun, and games are played, but not ones encouraging deceit.
A good master insists on disclosure in advance. He makes it his duty to ensure she
knows. He does so in many ways, including discussing his Vision. He does not demand
obedience without first knowing she understands his life and values. He will not demand
obedience where there is no value, and value is missing if she offers herself suffering
from false illusions. The burden is on you, not her. It really is simple. As master, ask
yourself, are you looking for something enduring, or do you want a six-month fantasy
game? If it is the former, then disclosure up front is a requirement, and without it,
pain must surely follow.

Master's Obligations
 Many publications exist about the obligations a master undertakes when owning a
slave. It is referred to in books and articles, on countless web pages, and in many
interesting ways. It is fun reading others notions and ideas. Having your slave read
them. The ensuing conversations are even more fun.
Notwithstanding the plethora of words and notions written, like much of this
lifestyle, a master’s obligations are a simple concept to understand, though more difficult
to write. The key to understanding them is no less than what this book is about, making
everything obtainable, livable and realistic. Rather than a fluffy oration of spiritual
niceties that may not even teach her much, a more realistic approach of explaining the
obligations you accept, which she grows to rely on, and trust, serves a far greater
purpose.
They had returned from the beach picnic. It was a lovely day, just the two of them.
The sun shone, small waves rippled at the shore, the new puppy dashed in and out of the
water, making an utter nuisance of himself. But, the best part was just being together,
walking, talking, laughing, and snacking. To any observers happening along, they could
be excused for wrongly surmising they were engaged in platonic conversation like any
couple on a picnic. If they knew the discussion topic, most would likely have fainted.
The truth was, they had only met a few weeks earlier and their talks were about
everything and anything. They laughed, told stories about their lives, teased about the
side steps along the way, and of course, talked a lot of their shared interest in the
master-slave culture. After all, that is why they were on the beach, on a date really,
doing what dating couples do, getting to know each other, talking about dreams, needs,
and wants from life. It was fun.
There was no question of the mutual attraction felt, and a strong desire to explore
further a relationship as master and slave. But, it was still far too early to consider it.
While he had no doubt she wanted to travel that road, she was not the leader and be
damned, if he would not ensure she understood how he lived first.
Packed up and home, refreshed and relaxed, it was time to move a step forward.
“Pet, I want you to do something for me please.”
“Yes Sir, what would you like?”
The ‘Sir’ honorific was spoken for the first time, quite effortlessly and naturally,
though it had not been demanded, or asked of her. It was certainly appreciated and he
smiled.
“What I would like you to do, and understand please, not owing you, you are under
no obligation to obey, but I think what needs to be said would be better appreciated if
you knelt on the floor for me.”
She smiled, “I would like that”.
 “Goodgirl, thank you”.
She was not smooth, or particularly graceful descending to her knees, but that was
something he would work on down the road. The important part was being in her head,
and he was surely there already. She looked up with an open soul.
“You look lovely there pet, I will remember this moment.”
She smiled again, and her hands fidgeted. She was nervous.
“I have really enjoyed our time together, you are a delightful lady. It is obvious we
are very attracted to each other, and exploring over the coming months towards owning
you down the road, is my sincere intention. I cannot be more honest with you than that,
pet. I find you very attractive in so many ways. Is this something you would like to do?”
Her hands were clenching together furiously now. He wondered if she was aware of
the signals being given off.
“Yes Sir, I would like that very much.”
“Goodgirl, now I want to talk to you about something important, but give me a kiss
first.”
And she did. It was a beautiful kiss, from a lady, seemingly, with the heart of a
slave. He intended to find out.
“We are going to talk a lot over the coming time pet, about many issues, and aspects
of the lifestyle we love. We will talk more than you can probably endure. I might even
throw in a spanking, or two just for the hell of it, if you are a good girl, but tough, deal
with it.”
This time she giggled.
“Tonight though, it is important you understand the foundation this all begins with,
and the obligations I have to you as a slave, if that is to be. In the coming weeks and
months, when I scare the bejeezus out of you, there will be a foundation to apply some
perspective to what I say.”
She was paying rapt attention now, if she had not been before.
“Pet, we are going to explore a wide ranging cross-section of this lifestyle. That is
what I do with my slave, because it makes me happy. There is a time and place for
everything. Tonight, let your imagination run wild as to what ‘everything’ means, but it
is not the reason you are kneeling.”
“Why you are kneeling is because in order for me to ‘go everywhere’, you have to
understand how important you are, and that we are risk takers. To be involved in this
lifestyle to the degree we are, involves considerable risk for us both, and we love it.
Your risk will be in the vulnerability of your submission. I will demand that from you,
 and in time you will want to give it. My risks are equally founded in complimentary
needs, but also involve the risk inherent with striking you, that may cause bruises, or
other marks.”
“So tonight we begin a journey into your mind and soul to explore who you are, but
also to ensure my own safety that you are not some nut job, intent on landing my ass in
the slammer.”
She started to interrupt, undoubtedly to assure me of noble intentions, but that was
not going to happen yet.
“Pet, do not interrupt please, you are going to have ample opportunity to say
anything you want in due course.”
“Yes Sir”
“Good girl. Lest you get the wrong impression, I do not think you are a nut job, but
it is important you understand, that I know the risks of this lifestyle.”
“Why you are kneeling, is that in order for you to want to submit, and ultimately
offer yourself, you need to know the obligations I have for you. So when things are
difficult, as they undoubtedly will be at times, you know what motivates me. I need you
to be able to trust and rely on that belief in my integrity.”
There went her hands again. By now they must have been soaked in tension. He did
nothing to relax her. Learning the discipline of paying serious attention was good for
her. She had already seen his playful side. Now she needed to see the core rock values
that made it all work.
“Pet, from this moment forward, for as long as we are together, be it exploring, or
ultimately as my slave, you need to understand my fundamental obligation to you on
which I base everything. It is my absolute intention at all times to keep you emotionally
and physically safe. I cannot master you, or anyone, if I do not have that etched in my
soul, believe in it, and rely on it. Now you must grow to rely on it too.”
“I am going to repeat that pet, it is too important to say only once. My oath to you is
that while at times it may not seem immediately apparent, I act always to keep you
emotionally and physically safe.”
“You must grow to fully believe in that truth. That is what I do, and while it may
seem a contradiction knowing we take risks, the high risks make for high rewards, that
we may not always realize, but the risks are always tempered with a sane understanding
of this obligation.
I am speaking of motivation here pet. My motivation. I can promise you will not like
everything, nor will it all be convenient for you, and sometimes you may get hurt. We
will deal with those issues as they come up. But, I will never act out of malfeasance to
 harm you.”
“You are a slave, you obey, that is what you do. I am a master; and I act to explore
all of your potential; your sexuality, sensuality, endurance, the full range of human
emotion, and all your capabilities. That is what I do. I do it to meet our needs, as unique
as they are. It makes us happy. Do you understand pet?”
“Yes Sir, it will just take some time to appreciate and digest what you said.”
“Good girl and yes, I know it will, and we are going to have this conversation many
times over the coming weeks until you believe in those words. Right now, they are just
words pet. Their strength is the action behind them.”
“What I will demand of you is to be the best you can. I will demand excellence from
you. Sometimes your effort will be good enough, other times only results count. That is
an obligation I take seriously too.”
“My home and perhaps someday our home, will be a sanctuary for you, where peace
and tranquility reign, a place of refuge from the vanilla world, to be who you are and at
the same time a foundation from which to venture forth. That too is an obligation I make
to you.”
“And I will use you pet, a lot, relentlessly and in a variety of ways. Not all will be
physical, many quite subtle. But, you are a slave, and slaves thrive in enforced
structure, accountability and consequence. I understand that simple slave need, and we
will find out how well you thrive, knowing what your choice to submit means. Do you
understand pet?”
“Yes Sir.”
“I also require you to be useful, to take initiative, and be pro-active in your service.
There is structure you will learn and abide by, but I want your brain to be useful. You
are smart, and I plan to make that lovely quality work for me, you, and us. Do you
understand the commitments and oaths I am making to you pet?”
“Yes Sir. If I may, no one has ever quite explained it like that before. I have never
felt quite as peaceful with anyone as I do with you.”
“Good girl. That is what I wanted. Now I have a question for you.”
“Yes Sir?”
“Are you wet girl?”
“Very Sir.”
“Good girl. That was my lawyer question. Never ask a question you do not already
know the answer to.”
 They both laughed, and he pulled her by the hair into his arms and they kissed.

Where Do I Start?

For the fortunate, getting started means bumping into someone like Wayne, being
blessed with some great friends, all who are willing to help, point and suggest. A quality
dominant mentoring program has long been the ideal method to introduce new
dominants responsibly to the lifestyle. It traditionally provides the best framework to
develop potential, pass on knowledge, and explore the BDSM spectrum, while searching
for their elusive niche. That it does not exist is a shame, and thus we are forced to find
alternatives.
Having read this far, aspiring masters are getting a good feel for the scope of the
BDSM culture. As large as the BDSM spectrum is, the rewards for those embracing its’
tenets, are a life filled with adventure and peace. But, sorting through the multiple
niches of the Three Powers, by itself is a task of staggering proportion for those just
dipping their toe in the water. Learning the vast array of sado-masochism skills;
searches for real time experience; then for a slave, and developing a functional style and
vision, can be overwhelming to many neophytes.
Compounding the confusion, is then trying to sift through the malaise of rhetoric in
the BDSM community, from those preaching their version of true dominance. It is
no wonder aspiring masters get confused, or disillusioned and end up cutting corners. It
is almost unfair to expect otherwise.
Instead of the guidance provided by quality BDSM mentorship programs, thus
breaking big tasks into a series of manageable small ones, many skip the work
altogether, in favor of hollow proclamations. With little accountability for their actions,
it is a step easily taken and in the short term at least, few see the sham. Many
slaves leave the lifestyle before experiencing its peace, after enduring these disingenuous
sorts.
That said, “Where to start” is a legitimate question. The polled consensus among
hundreds of thousands, well ok, hundreds, well maybe a dozen or so… ok fine, it is my
opinion alone, is there is only one legitimate place to start and that is with a
resource book I came across. The author thinks clearly, is informative, writes
splendidly, is funny as hell, knows his stuff, is humble to the core and provides quite
possibly the definitive and only path to twue dominance.
Oh wait. You are already reading it, so never mind that comment.
But there is another jump off point.
The start that serves us all well, not just the master alone, is to educate him in a
profound appreciation of the power he has in his slave’s life. By any means possible, an
abiding respect for that power must be instilled from the very beginning. Understanding
the joy, and pain, he can cause has to be the first step. In fact, it is the only reasonable
beginning.
Much like shooting a gun for the first time, one does not just pick it up and start
firing with no idea of what to do. Someone will likely get hurt. To any reasonable
person, lessons in the gun’s power, safe use, maintenance, and ownership
responsibilities, are necessary prerequisites, before firing. Even having completed that
training, there forever resides a core respect for the power of the weapon. The same
applies to slave ownership. Unlike with guns though, masters do not need a license.
Imagine trying to license outside-the-box thinkers, who essentially live by their own
rules, in a frontier spirit of individualism. Now that is funny.
Acknowledging and accepting as profound truth, that the powers over your slave’s
life are unprecedented, compared to vanilla experiences, is the best start. That new skills
and perspectives are required, listening and learning is an essential task for the beginner.
If you take nothing more from this book, understand the power you have is not to be
trifled with, or treated cavalierly. It is too powerful to think otherwise. You are doing
some serious messing inside a person’s head when you dabble in power exchange. If
you are going to treat it cavalierly, get out before you hurt someone. The powers you
have are enormous, as are the attending responsibilities, and failure to accept them, will
only damage her, and ultimately yourself too. What goes around, comes around, that is
karma. What you put out there comes back, every time, so put out good, and good
returns. Cut corners, and you will find yourself in a ditch. Bank on it!
Did I mention yet this lifestyle is not for the lazy, or unintelligent?
When a slave submits, she is opening her soul to a level of vulnerability beyond
anything most vanilla women will ever experience, or many masters can grasp. That is
not to minimize, or disrespect vanilla folks openness with each other. It is stated,
because in observing the breakup of master-slave relationships from master malignancy,
the crippling pain she endures is virtually unparalleled in the vanilla world. As her
master, you face the paradox of creating freedom far beyond her wildest dreams, while at
the same time creating vulnerability so exposed and raw, that to abuse it, can cause
damage beyond reasonable vanilla expectations.
Do you doubt these assertions? Tell me otherwise when you have held a slave in
your arms, at the point of emotional collapse, after having endured master malfeasance.
Come and tell me when an otherwise stable, healthy, strong, and intelligent woman, is
suicidal from the emotional trauma inflicted by an abusive master.
Respect the power of mastery. Respect the vulnerabilities of submission. That is
where you must start. In acting to nurture feelings of submission, you are dabbling into
the psyche and mind of a person arguably to levels only professional psychologists and
psychiatrists should go. These are people with years of professional training and clinical
work, to support their expertise. Yet, as an amateur you do it anyway. Why? How?
You do it because you feel skilled enough to safely take her there, and to realize the
benefits of peace and tranquility the tenets of this lifestyle provide you both. At least
you think you do. Regardless, the important question is how can you do it, without a
leather couch, a pince-nez, wooly hair, and a doctor of psychiatry designation after your
name?
That question is easily answered. Flip back a few pages and re-read the section on
‘The Master’s Obligations’. If you are faithful to the oaths to her, you can safely explore
her mind, and be responsible for power over her life. Nothing short of that
consistent loyalty to your word works.
That is where to start. If you are going to dabble in this lifestyle, respect the powers
with which you are dealing. If it is merely some fetish fun on Friday night, or bedroom
kink so be it, enjoy yourselves. If a core need exists that personal happiness is rooted in
the tranquility of a structured relationship, then respect the enormity of the power you
wield. You cannot trample your slave’s emotional well-being through malfeasance in
your soul, laziness, or simple neglect. After nurturing her need, neglecting it will create
a monster. Whether that monster is you, or the slave, remains to be seen.
To be a master, to master another, there is no shortcut, you must learn and do your
homework. Flip the table and imagine yourself submitting to someone. Would you not
want them having acquired the skills to manage your life? It is a rhetorical question.
She trusted him. Spread-eagled and bound, her heart raced and her cunt glistened.
She felt peaceful obeying. How had she become so open and vulnerable? How did he
get past her walls? Trust was offered from her soul. She was nervous, very much so.
She felt the anticipation of surrender, of being whole and at home. All her senses were
turned up high.
She felt fingers part her. Being so open, all sense of modesty disappeared. She had
never felt more naked.
Time stopped. Waiting… waiting… waiting. Seconds were an eternity. As her
shyness faded to a distant memory, she understood being owned, a slave, feeling safe
and loved. Her body was now his body, to use however, and whenever. She was utterly
free and alive.
Fingers were suddenly jammed up her nostrils. She gasped and felt violated, utterly
surprised. He laughed at her maniacally.
You are a stuffed pig! Then he clamped her septum and she screamed, snapped and
rebelled. Too much, too far, searing pain beyond anything she expected, or wanted.
She screamed.
 He tightened the clamp and screamed back. “Shut up bitch! You are a fucking piece
of worthless slavemeat.”
The trust snapped for her.
He had crossed the threshold into abuse.
She was gone forever. Out of his life. A horrible mistake made. What happened?
Was he too cavalier in approach? Did he not take the oath of emotionally, and
physically safety to heart? Did he even care?
The story is about a master who did not want to learn. He talked the talk, but
stumbled when walking the walk. He moved his slave to where most masters want her,
but he had nothing to back it up. He had not mastered her mind, and hence broken her
trust. The pain and words so great, so intense, so wrong, she lost her faith. The trust
fibers scythed forever.
Need it have been, of course not. Steps were missed, skills not mastered, motivation
misplaced. He believed he was entitled to anything, and did not accept ownership came
with responsibilities. The slave mindset as an entity did not exist, or was not important.
He did not care about anything but selfish needs, hardly a solid foundation on which to
build a healthy relationship. That some women are trapped in, or enjoy this style of
domination, is not the niche of the BDSM spectrum addressed in this book.
She was blindfolded, spread-eagled, trusting, naked and wet. She ached, and
throbbed. For hours he had used her in ways she had dreamed of and feared.
She waited, unable to move, unwilling to.
Fingers suddenly invaded her nostrils. She gasped and felt violated. Never had this
happened. He held her still, impaled like a pig. Then the clamp on her septum and she
screamed, snapped and rebelled. Too much, too far, searing pain beyond anything she
expected, or wanted.
And just as suddenly the pain was gone. He pinned her head to the bench, and then
his magical voice in her ear. Years of trust built, earned and now to be relied on.
He whispered into her ear.
“Two hours from now, slavegirl, I will do that again. You will endure for me, yearn
for, and obey me. You are precious my love, my treasured slave, and I never promised
you would like it all. But, your limits will be pushed, your endurance tested. You need
it, and I need it. It is who we are.”
And two hours later the pain was tolerable.
Why is this different from the other scene?
 This book is but one means to train yourself, learn mastery, develop your style,
understand personal motivations, and come to appreciate the slave mindset. One girl
snapped and left her master for intolerable physical pain, in a setting of uncaring master
motivation. The other girl, whose master explained, showed the path, yet was equally
physically sadistic, had built her foundation patiently. He had the courage to go forth,
yet prepared them both for what he would bring on her. One path is of misery and
heartache, another of peace and growth. Yet the physical acts had been the same. Style
and motivation, knowledge and compassion, they earmark your mastery.
Those that move on and become great masters have all started with an inherent sense
of humility and respect for the powers they study. They respect it and never let that
responsibility far from the surface. Nor do they fear it. They take every effort to make
sure she sees that too.
There is a similarity between masters and high wire artists. Those artists thrive on
the adrenalin and the challenge of new frontiers and risk-taking. It is who they are.
They do it aware of the risk, so they study, practice and take all precautions to minimize
mistakes and tragedies. It is an essential part of their survival. They are not foolish.
But, they take the risks nonetheless. So too, do masters.
It would be easy to sit back and take the secure path through life. Many do in fact
choose that path, for their own reasons, and it works for them. Society is filled with
these people. As big corporations evolve and grow, they are stocked with armies of
middle level managers. Men and women, who perform their tasks well, contribute to
success, and work long hard hours. Their reward is security, their paychecks deposited
each Friday. Their job is secure, a pension on its way. There is very little risk in the
path they chose.
A cost exists for that security, most often in the form of restrictions on the
entrepreneurial spirit. Individualism is minimized, deliberate choices made to that
effect. The cog in the wheel syndrome. Lest there be no misunderstanding, those
placing high value on security are good people. There is nothing wrong in their choices
and for most, it is exactly the choice they should make.
Not all take that path though. To some, fewer to be sure, there is a need to control
ones destiny with a greater degree of individualism. These people will not thrive in
bureaucratic sameness. They cringe at the ticky-tacky suburban plot, the mini-van, two
point one kids, a dog, cat, a mortgage and a jackass for a boss. Of necessity, some
masters will make those choices, sometimes for convenience, or raising the children, or
family reasons. As risk takers though, masters often sacrifice security for the challenge
and vitality of individualism. They are responsible people, and do not reject security
cavalierly; they simply prioritize it lower on the scale of life.
Many masters have subliminal, or even overt issues with authority figures perhaps
accounting for the re-prioritization. Good masters accept the responsibilities incumbent
 with citizenship in society, the realities of government, taxes, road signs, and laws for
the common good. They are not irresponsible, or naïve, but they are individuals. They
are men and women with a drive to live life fully and autonomously. They understand
the parameters of their individualism.
While master and slave living is the dynamic of their personal relationship, they
paradoxically juxtapose that core need into the rest of their lives, controlling and aware,
but not dominating the rest of their world. They have too much respect for themselves,
their slave, and the free choice others make. Rarely do you see a master impose his
beliefs of master-slave dynamics on the rest of his world, yet he often controls his
environment.
So, where to start was the question. Exploring who you are, your needs, your role in
society, and what motivates you is also a great beginning.
If you need help with that, for a nice tidy hourly rate, you can lie on a big fluffy
leather couch, and tell me all about your experiences in the womb. Wake me if I snore.
Hey, it is your life, I am just writing a book.

The First Moment

The collar locked closed. It was the first moment of owning a slave. Her soul and
heart were beautiful, and she was his.
“Rise up and ask to kiss your owner, slavegirl.”
She rose gracefully and stood before him, eyes lowered, an inspirational vision of
serenity.
“Master, may I kiss you?”
And unexpectedly he blushed crimson to the soul. How very profound it felt to be
called master for the first time. He was actually embarrassed, and then humbled.

Dominating The One You Love

“Tonight young fellow, we want to throw around a discussion topic about an issue
you will inevitably face as you evolve in this lifestyle. It’s an issue that ruins more
master-slave couples, than all others combined. Failure to master the issue is a fast
track to a life condemned to vanilla ice cream, missionary sex and Saturday nights spent
only dreaming of handcuffs. It is called ‘Dominating the One You Love’”.
Never were truer words ever spoken.
 Along with Wayne, Greg and several other masters, we were talking around the
dinner table one late autumn evening. We had enjoyed a pleasant relaxed meal, served
by slaves.
Magic filled the room listening to these gentlemen. I was spell bound absorbing their
words. Processing the concepts, trying to understand and digest them as they came
forth. With no experience in slave ownership yet, their words were still just mental
gymnastics, but advice and guidance from this group had never been off the mark. That
this lesson was taught en-masse, bespoke of the importance these masters placed on my
understanding their words.
Do you think the brave souls rescuing people from fires, and others who place
themselves in danger to keep our neighborhoods safe, have courage? Or, the men and
women of the armed forces around the world fighting for principle, homeland and their
rights, are they not courageous? How about the pioneers of yesteryear, and modern
explorers on the cutting edge of space and the ocean depths, are they brave?
Bravery and courage comes in many forms, and indeed firemen, police officers,
warriors, and explorers have risen to a noble calling, making sacrifices for us all. We are
grateful for their physical courage every day. Physical bravery tests ones courage and
character.
The courage of one’s convictions and principles is yet another level of bravery,
no less significant than physical bravery. Often manifested in social reformers, the likes
of Martin Luther King and Nelson Mandela, their courage, hardship and resolve, results
in civil rights advances for the betterment of individuals within all of society.
And indeed, there is a third type of courage too. It involves emotional bravery, and
for all aspiring to mastery that entails walking-the-walk, not just talking a good story.
What we do is master the person we love. As simple as that sounds, and obvious to
any thinking person, traveling that road can be extraordinarily difficult. All having
attempted it, have had to deal with it.
The emotional courage of a master manifests itself in the form of sticking to his
guns, and consistently coping with every curve life throws at him, staying within his
master-slave structure, under the pressure of potentially losing the girl he loves. This is
the girl who believes in you, the same girl who will not like all your decisions, but who
bought into your Vision, and offered herself anyway. Are you as strong as she, in
abiding the commitments made to each other, especially when adversity strikes? If not,
you will lose her. Without the patience to lead her through the times that she wants to
scream and rant and yearn for the easier vanilla path, you will lose her. When she pines
to deal with you in vanilla terms, because of perceived shortcomings in your mastery,
you too can take the easier path and revert to vanilla interaction. But, if you do, you will
lose her, or your master-slave dynamic.
 Paraphrasing the inspiring Dr. Norman Vincent Peale, who said many years ago in a
meeting never forgotten:
“Life without problems is boring. Problems are, but an opportunity to excel. Do not
travel through life unengaged and bored.”
It is easy to dominate someone when you have nothing at risk. It is exponentially
more difficult when your heart is on the line, and you risk emotional pain at the prospect
of losing the slave you love. When that risk gets too great, unsure and inexperienced
masters cave to their lifetime of societal indoctrination. They revert to ingrained
traditional vanilla values of equal power, and equal decision-making, to resolve conflict.
Under stress, they accept mainstream messages that living a power
exchange relationship is wrong. They do so because their hearts are on the line, when
the potential for emotional pain presents itself. People then, instinctually become
cautious and revert to proven methods, rather than extending their thinking to creative
problem solving. It is a natural reaction.
Learn well and learn early, that to live the life of a master, it is going to take courage
on your part. It is going to be tough at times. But smile, take your time, explain to your
slave what you are doing, and the new skills to problem solving, you too are learning and
she will be there to help you.
Take the time to teach her about emotional risk, and the pressures you are going to
face as her master. Tell her that it will require her patience as you develop and trust your
own structure, learning to cope with the love you have for her. Tell her you need to
overcome years of vanilla conditioning, training and indoctrination that society has
thrust on you, and you now reject for a better way.
Then do the easy part. Read the Three Tenets of Mastery again. Learn them and
come to believe in them. Knowing they sound so easy is the hard part. Turning them
into day-to-day reality is very hard work. But, it is worth it for those who grasp this as a
lifestyle of happiness and tranquility. Learn to apply the tenets by developing your style
consistent with them. A style that makes you happy and she loves. A style that respects
her, avoids bullying, yet provides a structure, which is the very reason she is with you in
the first place. Consistency allows you to dominate the one you love. For me, I use a lot
of humor. Making her laugh is fun, but it also serves to benefit us when I am serious,
and she can see that look in my eye, when this is not the fun part. She listens very well
then.

Bottoming From The Top

Bottoming From the Top: A new-age term anathema to mastery. Popularized in the
1990’s meaning ‘I need reassurance, through third party validation, because I am too
insecure to accept power without asking permission every time I want to do something to
my vanilla partner, whom I call slave, a name used so I can stroke my ego and prance
around with public declarations of omnipotent power.’1
Other than the opinion expressed here, I have no thoughts on this hot button issue, of
course. Getting off the fencepost and taking stands is something I really need to look
into.
Well maybe there are a few points to be made about this reality of the lifestyle.
There are times a slave needs to be yanked by the hair, given the look, and growled
at when she dares pout, whine, or expresses displeasure at a command she finds
inconvenient. The ensuing “suck it up princess” usually gets the message across loud
and clear. Fortunately, it makes not a rat’s ass difference in my life, when Domboys
practice the very un-cool art of bottoming from the top.
When a master does not believe in the slave’s mind, when he lacks the courage to
lead, when years of vanilla indoctrination run rampant, and when he is insecure in his
mastery, he will ask permission for powers already given. That is what bottoming from
the top is. Effectively, he is asking for direction and permission, over and over again.
That it takes a variety of forms is a given. It is an insidious behavior eroding any
meaningful structure that exists.
Many use the kinder-gentler approach to dominance so often a disguise for “I do not
have the guts to actually do this.” Others are clever wordsmiths, who present a style of
compassion and consideration that is nothing more than a manifest need for constant
validation from his slave. He needs to be told that what he is doing is ok. To these
wordsmiths, know that she is on to you. She already gave you power, now stop asking
for it and start using it, otherwise your mastery is invalid. Doing otherwise will quickly
ensure she refers to you not as "Master", but her "Vanilla-Degenerate".
As you read on, there are communication channels you will go to extraordinary
lengths developing to alleviate concerns, or needs she has. Establishing those pathways
are effective tools for many reasons, not the least of which confirms that ad hoc consent
still exists. With consent already given, there is no need from her perspective, for
subliminal trickery, or control validation. She already agrees, so use your freedom to
use her as you see fit. Gentlemen stop asking and start doing.
“I can be whatever you want me to be. I can do that, if that is what you want.”
These are inspiring words spoken by a slave. Alas, when they come from the mouth
of a Domboy they are projectile vomit.
Of note too, when a slave asks ‘Can I spank you if you make a mistake when I let you
dominate me’ and the response is ‘Yes’, then there are some serious issues going on as to
the validity of mastery in the context spelled out in this book.
 Converting Your Vanilla Partner

From time to time, I am asked for advice on how a submissive woman can introduce
her husband to the joy of mastery. It is somewhat of an unfair question, because the man
is generally a stranger. So to keep it simple and get right to the crux of the matter I smile
and offer only this sage advice.
“Have him fuck you a few times and make sure he knows your orgasms are not
required.”
Alas, many ladies are quicker than me and retort.
“And this is different from vanilla sex how?”
Trying to keep abreast of these silver-tongued slaves is work, but I now come armed
to the discussion.
“Buy him a copy of this book and then get on your knees and pray toots.”

Mind Fuck #5 - "The Golfer"

It whirlyjigged through the air like a helicopter rotor and he burst out laughing. He
had never seen her throw a golf club before, or even anger, let alone lose her temper on
the golf course. His laugh turned into a belly roar.
“You silly bit of fluff”, he howled.
If she heard, she ignored him, and stalked off after the club, passing the ball she had
barely hit moments earlier. Oh how delicious the irony, and how quickly the tables had
turned. But, that is the fickle nature of golf. Only yesterday she had teased him when he
missed the ball altogether. She lamented the smack on her ass after asking,
“Does your husband play, Master?”
Today the table was turned.
They carried on play, and he ignored her for the rest of the hole. Eventually she
calmed, and they finished their game pleasantly. Since he first collared her over a
decade earlier, they had been playing together, and while of moderate skill, they loved
the game and sharing the time together.
“That was a lovely dinner pet, goodgirl.”
“Thank you Master. I thought it would make up for my behavior on the golf course
 today.”
“Ah well yes, I have been thinking about that. Come into the living room and kneel
please.”
Oh shit she thought. His favorite dinner trick did not work.
“Take off your clothes first, girl,” and she knelt naked before him.
She was still trim even after two kids, though always had been small breasted. But
having just turned forty, she was proud of her figure and loved being naked for him.
Somehow she thought, this might not be one of those times though. Her master rose,
pulled a golf ball from his pocket, and bounced it in his palm.
“Pet, you surprised me today. In all our games together, I have never seen you lose
your temper before, let alone actually throw a club.”
She blushed. This was not going to go well.
“Get your face on the carpet girl”, and she obeyed.
“Hands behind your back”, and she did.
“Goodgirl. Now spread them slavegirl!”
She parted her knees as far as she could. Normally so exposed and accessible would
have caused her to be wet instantly, but somehow getting fucked did not seem in her
immediate future, and she remained bone dry.
He paced around her for a few moments then spoke.
“The game of golf is about controlling the golf ball girl, making it do what you
want. It takes skill and discipline. Kind of like what I do with you. Maybe I should
rename you Titless instead of Titelist”, and he chuckled at his own joke.
Now she knew this would not go well. She prayed it was not the ben-wa ball
punishment again. Her prayers were answered, but by the Devil himself.
He bent down and placed the golf ball in front of her nose and grabbed the riding
crop from the coffee table.
“Golf is about controlling the golf ball, and today you let the ball control you, girl.
You threw a hissy fit out there, and I was embarrassed by your behavior, knowing that
others witnessed it”
He paused to let the words sink in.
“Rather than punish you, I am going to give you a golf lesson. So, now for the next
thirty minutes, you are going to learn to control the golf ball. You do not answer to the
ball, it answers to you, and you answer to me. Until I say stop, you are going to push
 that ball around the room with your nose, wherever I tell you. Every time you lose
control of it, or your knees come together, or your hands move from your back, I am
going to put a welt on your ass. Do you understand?”
Oh shit, I want the ben-wa ball punishment she thought.
“Yes, Master.”
And for thirty minutes her tits scraped across the carpet as she pushed the fucking
ball as ordered. Her ass was raw by the end, and sitting for a few days was going to be
agony. But it was nothing compared to the searing pain in her nipples. Her weight was
pushing them into the rug and the burning friction made them harder and the pain worse.
She could not cry. Everything hurt too much.
Grabbing her hair, he yanked her to her knees. She dared not look up, but looking
down, could see her tits were a mess.
“Well girl, do you understand golf now?”
“Yes Sir”, she moaned out.
“That was probably the best golf lesson you will ever get, and it saved me from
paying the Pro.”
He chuckled again at his sadistic humor.
“Yes Master”, she replied again.
“So did you learn anything girl?”
“Yes Sir”, this time her voice was a little stronger.
“And what did you learn?”
For a moment she paused, thinking and then looked up into his eyes. That smirk he
loved was on her face. Slowly she smiled.
“I learned never to play golf with my Master again!”
And they both burst out laughing.
 Chapter VI - Ut-Oh

A Great Path

Think about your life and career. Most would agree, it is certainly a greater pleasure
and incentive to work for those appreciating your contributions, than for those
continually find fault. Think back through your work history of bosses, or during school
years of teachers; and remember how easy it was to work for some people – how easy it
was to accomplish tasks and goals. And remember too, how impossible and
uncomfortable it was to accomplish anything with others.
So it is with owning a slave. A master’s management style will set the tone for how
well the slave does. Manage well, and you both will have the peace and tranquility
offered to those embracing the lifestyle tenets. It is too often poor slave management,
reflected in a domineering style, which causes slave issues. Problems range from finding
a slave, to keeping her, to getting the service expected. Too often, the cycle completes,
with masters lamenting the sad state of today’s slave.
Yet, it is often not a slave problem at all, as much as it is very much a master
problem. It must be, because it’s usually the same masters, over and over, having these
problems. Conversely, those owning content slaves, living in a dominating, but not
domineering style, are also a unique group. They tend not to suffer this endless pattern
of cycling slaves. Dominating versus domineering – it seems to be no coincidence that
relationship stability is predicated on this feature. The constant of the same people in
each group is too much of a co-incidence, to be otherwise.
Finding peace in the master-slave realm has nothing to do with having an easy
structure. Many of the best masters and happiest slaves are in fact, found in rigid
structure. A peaceful relationship has everything to do with your style of dominance,
respect for her choice, and management of her. It is not predicated on how soft, or strict
you are.
Masters having difficulty managing their slaves can often look to simple
management practices to overcome difficulties and re-establish the harmony they seek.
They are simple and are very helpful in developing mutual respect and clear
understandings.
Justice must be the management foundation to build your structure. It is not just, to
be too lenient, anymore than it is just to be unreasonably strict.
Allowing impertinence, or disobedience is inexcusable, but it is equally inexcusable
to be causelessly irritable, overbearing and rude. The domineering style of mastery does
not work in the long term.
Do not punish, or reprimand just because you are in a bad mood, or for that matter,
let inappropriate behavior go unpunished because you are in a good mood.
Never correct her in front of vanilla people and only selectively, and infrequently, in
front of lifestyle friendly people. You will likely only cause unnecessary feelings of
embarrassment, or humiliation, that translates to poor performance.
If you are choosing a polyamory structure with multiple slaves, work must be as
evenly divided as possible.
Most importantly, always make allowances if there are reasons for allowances to be
made. If you have a poly home with multiple slaves you overlook nothing, there are
no reasons to make allowances. There are enough hands to get all the work done. There
are no excuses permitted. If there is an illness, another slave can step in and take on her
duties. But, in a single slave relationship, it is unfair to reprimand for not having the
bills filed, when you have been entertaining company for a week, and she has been
preparing meals, serving, cleaning up, making beds, ensuring hospitality and then taking
her to the beach for a picnic every day, resulting in not a moment for her other duties. If
you do not know if she has had time, give her the benefit of the doubt, and talk with her
trustfully, not with haughty domineering superiority, but with compassion.
“You have not had time to file the bills yet, have you pet?”
This simple sentence structure is not a criticism, and will convey the message you
want. You demand excellence, but understand reality. By demonstrating compassion,
the result will be strengthened loyalty, and knowledge of appreciation. Carelessness, or
laziness on the other hand, when you know she had time, is never overlooked.
Another critical style aspect of your mastery that develops loyalty, respect, and her
keen desire to serve, is to offer what you demand. You want her trust, but do you offer
yours? The answer is partly in your style of domination.
If you are by nature a suspicious and untrusting person, it will display itself to her in
small ways, that affect her ability and desire to serve. If you are untrusting by nature, a
person who locks everything tight, and treat her as though your life is a secret, or act to
create the impression you consider her untrustworthy, or dishonest - then you are
sabotaging the relationship without influence from her. Untrusting, and suspicious
personality characteristics are equally loathsome master traits, as they are slave traits.
If you watch your slave because you fear she will not work, or who is constantly
quizzed about her behavior, searching for disobedience, then she is psychologically
encouraged, sometimes driven, to do just that. The suspicious master expects perfect
service, but it never occurs to him, that the slave mindset ensures perfect service is
 gladly given. Rather than expect it, he creates an environment that ensures it will not
happen. Your style of mastery must show her the consideration and trust due her as an
honorable, self-respecting, and conscientious slave. If you do not think she is, then
release her immediately. Do not delude yourself, or play games with her submission.

The Wrong Path

There was a time not many years ago, when a book about mastery had no need for a
chapter like this. What you are about to read, was not part of the leather lifestyle, or
mastery in particular then. The rapid expansion of late, probably more than any other
factor, accounts for the development of this phenomenon. The lifestyle is so easily
accessible and anonymous now. Because of this, fraudulent and predator-dominants are
flourishing.
Where in years gone by there was no large scene community to be part of, members
of the resultant smaller groups knew each other, and enjoyed the camaraderie of
difference. That closeness had its faults, but one benefit was protection against obvious
abuse.
Nowadays though, budding masters have a choice of paths to mastery. Cloaked in
the anonymity of the internet, they all too often hide their agendas, wives, kids, and
unemployment rank. It is a shame really, because it more often than not, just drives
good slaves away from the lifestyle. But let us examine the paths available to aspiring
bum-beaters.
You are reading this book because you want to explore mastery as a
relationship structure. You want to own a slave, or slaves… maybe a harem! And you
want to succeed for the long-term.
Excellent! Congratulations! Good choice! It is a noble calling to those capable and
willing. But like any calling, the energy and commitment given is proportional to the
result. You deserve a fair warning.
If you think mastering another, holding, controlling and managing power over part,
or all of someone’s life is easy, you are to be sadly mistaken. Is it simple? Yes, indeed
it is. But, it is not easy, nor for the lazy, or for the unintelligent.
There are a number of ways to become a master, some easier than others. This
trilogy of books explores one path, albeit a hard one, but one with immense rewards.
There are others, and it is important to decide what path you will choose. Some paths
are peaceful, others selfish and mean. How you choose to travel the path, is of course,
your right. No one will stop you. There are no BDSM Police lurking about. There is no
right or wrong, if it is voluntary and informed. There are however, choices you must
make. How you make them, and what they represent, will identify you, guide you,
 provide consequence, and ultimately accountability. But indeed they are your choices.
There are some less savory people in the lifestyle, who use BDSM for wholly selfish
reasons. Their path to mastery is considerably different than the views espoused here.
In most cases, their involvement is transient, and usually hurtful.
That is wrong. Without being excessively judgmental, those in any walk of life, or
lifestyle, who travel the bully path, abuse and practice selfish partner interaction; and
even those who condone these activities, will not reap the benefits of a long-term master-
slave relationship. It is just not attainable in a healthy way.
So what is your legacy to be? Will it be a life with a trail of heartache and pain in
others, or something simpler?
Here are three less exemplary paths to mastery.

The Pixel Prince

Hookup online, read thirty-seven web pages, pick a dominant sounding name; Lord-
Dom-It-All, and Master-Gnip-Gnop, are good ones, though I am partial to Sir-Bedroom-
Bully; head to the chat rooms, and presto you are all set. You are almost guaranteed to
sound dominant immediately and will not have to expend too much energy worrying that
you can be. You will likely secure one, or two, pixel princess slaves right away to go
along with you.
If you do not mind typing, or that your slaves are most likely a pair of fifteen year
old boys masquerading as female slaves, while wanking their beef jerkies, then you’ll be
great. Good luck. If this is the extent of what master-slave is about for you, then great,
go for it. No harm no foul. Enjoy yourself and while you are at it, say hello to Santa,
the Tooth Fairy and Brier Bear for me. They are about the same level of fantasy. The
Pixel Prince is a recent phenomenon in the grand scheme of things, but in a state of mass
expansion.

Unconfirmed Experienced Master

The second path to mastery might be more to your liking, and certainly is less
typing. It also significantly reduces the chance of female impersonators, though it is
probably not very satisfying for you, or the slaves in the long run. The rather sad side
effect of it being hard on your reputation as a credible master, is also undeniable. But,
the norm for those first encountering the lifestyle nowadays, seems to be to jump right
in. How hard can it be to make a gal obey you? Shucks, this is easy. There are many
gullible girls out there, all looking for their Dream Dom. So be that for her. In fact, be
Mr.PerfectDomlyOne to as many as possible. Serial killing is outlawed, but heck, serial
mastery is the latest rage!
So off you go, the pattern is almost always the same. Call yourself an experienced
master, talk-the-talk, learn by slapping leather around some less knowledgeable slave’s
neck, screw up, dump her, read another web page, move on to the next victim, fix the
previous problem, slap on more leather, screw up again, dump her, read another web
page, and so on, and so forth, ad nauseum. Eventually at least, you can call yourself
experienced. That behind you is a train wreck of hurt, is acceptable, tolerable and really
no big deal. To you!
But to the emotionally exhausted, pained and devastated slaves, your approach often
hurts and affects them in enormous ways. You of course, got your jollies, the game
continues. This is easy and fun. But, it is just that - a game. A mean one too. The
problem being of course, that this game is played with people’s well being. That is not a
game, it is dishonest manipulation. It completely ignores the emotional
vulnerability you created in the slave.
Some may argue, the girl bought into your line, thus eliminating your culpability.
And therein right there is the problem! A master leads. He does not make excuses,
rationalize, or pass the buck. A master has mastered the lifestyle. He has mastered
himself. He respects the slave’s vulnerabilities in submitting. He has gone to extreme
effort and lengths to learn what goes on in a slave’s mind, and why she has this core
need to serve and obey. He understands who a slave is, what a slave heart is, and more
than anything else, he respects the power he wields. The Unconfirmed-Experienced-
Master does very few, or none of these things.
The Unconfirmed-Experienced-Master fails to grasp, and thus rejects accountability.
He rejects consequence. He refuses to recognize that getting power is only the
beginning, and that responsible management of that power is what counts. He does not
care the power he owns, could not just enhance his life, but must be used to enhance
their life. Power to manage another’s life in any aspect, to any degree, within any
parameters, but most importantly when in the context of the raw emotional
vulnerability required of slaves, can be supremely good, and horribly catastrophic. This
dominant does not recognize that.
So the question then is, does any of that matter to him? Or, is he another of the
plethora of “I am the Master, I do what I want, you are the slave, shut up bitch!” types.
Remember when deciding though. It is a small world, a smaller BDSM community, and
this act gets tiresome and identified very quickly. It is not an approach recommended if
you plan to sustain a quality relationship, and remain a viable master entity, for any
length of time.
These are shortcuts to mastery. Those practicing them are masters in name only,
generally self-appointed. These are lazy, dishonest, usually emotionally immature and
 almost always abusive people. They do not really want to understand the lifestyle,
though they have mastered the words. As long as they continue on this path, they will
never enjoy the peace offered to those embracing its’ tenets in their hearts.
Unfortunately, for many slaves, other master’s and the vanilla world, these
gentlemen make noise. They are talked about, written about and generally give the
lifestyle a black eye.
Often referred to as Weekend Warriors, Predators and Wannabes, they have some
common traits. They generally have a history of failed relationships outside the lifestyle,
or often even finding a sexual partner. Many so-called dominants, often only use the
lifestyle to get a sexual partner. Now if they admitted that was their goal, clear thinking
folk would have no issue. It would be honest. Folks have an amazing tolerance to
endure honesty. But the Unconfirmed-Experienced-Master is only selectively honest.
He is able to pull off his deceitful act, because of the anonymity of the internet, and the
lifestyle scene in general.
Avoiding this moniker and the resultant emotional carnage, is relatively simple, and
enormously rewarding. Do not hesitate to be frank with people. That you are new, is a
stage we all go through. There is no shame in it, nor does it diminish your ability to
grow to mastery as you learn. There are many great people in the community that are
happy to share with you their wisdom and experience. You need only ask. In return,
they will ask for honesty, not even insisting on your life story, just that you identify what
you are looking for, and appreciate both their candor and experience.
A great many new submissive women enter the lifestyle all the time. A really bad
egg like me, scares their panties off (thank me later), but the new women are often more
comfortable exploring themselves, and the lifestyle with someone of similar
circumstance. Use this phenomenon to your advantage.
There are also an abundance of public, semi-public, and private events in the
BDSM community. Use those too. Research and pick some local events, be they
munches, workshops, demonstrations, or fetish nights, and quietly make yourself
known. Understand each event has peculiarities, and for some people, a degree of
exposure risk. But, these events do serve a purpose for the new dominant. They can
provide credibility, and credibility is paramount in any relationship. They introduce you
to people. Like minded people. Not all you will like, or want to like, but you become
real. Over time, you will establish yourself as you wish, a quiet responsible member in
the background, perhaps in time a leader, or a confirmed nut job. The tools are there, so
use them appropriately for your circumstances. A statement worthy of a master and one
worth remembering, is very straightforward.
“If you have the courage to own, then have the courage to ask”.
To the slaves reading here, a note. The reason I added “Unconfirmed”, to
“Unconfirmed-Experienced-Master” is a warning. Many say they are experienced as
 part of their lure. Get confirmation. It is not up to you to search it out, it is up to the
master to provide it. Without confirmation, experience is almost always missing. If the
master has the experience he says, more than just his words should back it up. If he
cannot provide it, more than likely he is being untruthful. To aspiring masters, do you
really think a slave will offer herself to a man proven untrustworthy, and who’s truth is
malignant?
Did I mention mastery is not for the lazy?

Chameleon Dominant

The Chameleon Dominant is that classic effigy of mastery, skilled in the fine art of
“bottoming from the top”. You know the fellow; we have all met him. He comes in
every shape and size. He is the fellow who talks a great line, struts well, poses better,
and has a few toys he brags about constantly. But his real skill lies in the ability to be
anything a slave needs him to be. Mastery to the Chameleon is developing his vision to
ensure it is exactly what the slave wants. And he is happy to change what makes him
happy, with each and every slave he meets.
He is the fellow who talks in clichés, and spouts the popular rhetoric of the day. He
is the one heard asking, “So what do you like?”; “Are you bi?”; “Do you like pain?”
He is the one that says things like “I love anal sex.” But, his tone of voice is really
communicating, “Can I do that to you, please”. He asks permission, seeks validation,
and bottoms from the top.
You will love these guys. They are priceless, abundant, and always good for a
chuckle. The Chameleon Dom can spin a tale and own the panties of an inexperienced
slave, faster than the crack of a singletail. The pain is not as good mind you, lasts
longer, and is not as honest, but it is sure there. These fellows do not really lead, do not
really provide structure, and do not really have a vision. Yet, they can be successful
when they meet the slave that does not really submit, who decides what will be done,
when, where, how; and loves the charade of submitting. When these two meet up, it
often works perfectly for them. So be it. Spin your happiness. But then, do not pretend
the master controls and leads.
The Chameleon is also successful with, and preys on slaves new to the lifestyle. It is
a classic case of working the "he said, she heard" scam. The newbie slave generally
comes into the lifestyle nervous. She puts her toe in, with visions of sadistic monsters,
torture chambers, and ruffian gangbangs. Of course, who are we to tell her she is right,
but that is another story. The Chameleon Dominant preys on these ladies. His spin
works to a tee with them. He asks his questions, probes, tailors and seduces. That is
what he does.
 What her inexperienced ears hear though, is caring, tenderness, kindness, and gentle
patience. The romance of his words, merely reflect her pre-conceived notions, and ends
in self-seduction. That, of course, is the technique the Chameleon depends on. The
result is often instant lust/love/collaring. Then the weeks go by, the lust bloom fades,
and the Chameleon is exposed. The responsible control, management of power,
structure, and vision were all hers. Her notion, her fantasy, alas not a reflection of her
master’s values. Suddenly, she wakes up one day and realizes she controls, she decides,
she directs. If that was not her true need, if in fact indenture, enslavement, guidance,
obedience, and service were her core needs, then it all comes apart. Chameleon Domboy
got the power, sated his lust, but could not manage and sustain the power. He leaves a
legacy of heartache, to begin the spin again.
There is a better way.

Mind Fuck #6 - "The Unknown Mindfuck"

Slowly he came awake. The sun was up, and daylight seeped around the hotel room
drapes. His mind was wide-awake, but he ached from last night’s exertions. What a
night it had been too, a veritable smorgasbord of sadistic debauchery, saturating the
senses. From the parade of ponies, to the masterful wielding of fire floggers; from
inverted slaves in rope harnesses, suspended and dangling twenty feet above, to a slave
entombed for hours in a thick coating of hardened plaster, his sadistic mistress playing
games with his air hose.
He looked across the bed at the slave sleeping next to him. She had been overloaded
last night. She took it all in, even before being used. Her only words for the past
fourteen hours had come disobediently, but understandably, as she lay curled in his arms,
when they finally got to bed. Disobedience did not come easily, so her speaking while
restricted was difficult, and had taken a special reason. Spoken so softly at first, he
thought it was imagined.
“I love you Master.”
He hugged her tighter and they fell asleep.
It was still early. The clock read 7:14, far too early to arise. Everyone they had
come to the event with was still asleep. It was Saturday, day-two of the three-day
gathering. Masters, mistresses, and slaves from all parts of the globe had come, making
a stunning eclectic array of the BDSM continuum. At noon, more seminars would start,
but those were not his focus. The seminar he attended yesterday, without her, were new
and interesting. Learning to glue her cunt closed would provide great fun, and he
relentlessly teased her all day. Knowing he would eventually do it, sent shudders down
her tiny frame, and that was fun.
 The weekend was planned to immerse this treasure in her slavery. Though she had
been well used, and was undoubtedly sore from last night, there would be no respite
today. He lay quietly thinking and planning. This afternoon was filled with more
seminars on slave skills that would keep her busy and learning. Tonight, in the dungeon
in front of two thousand people, again she would be used, and again, taken deeper and
farther. This morning was open in the schedule. She would remain in speech restriction
until breakfast. Then her pent up feelings would come pouring out. He looked forward
to hearing them. The weekend was planned to overload her senses, and had succeeded
thus far. It was intended to be difficult for her, and it was.
She was sleeping on her tummy as always, head cradled in the pillow. Thick black
hair spilled erotically around her. A cuffed wrist was still attached to the bondage strap.
A light sheet covered the curve of her bottom and her breathing was steady and
peaceful. He was blessed to enjoy her loyalty and heart. The thought aroused him, and
he was forced to snap out of the sentimentality. There were things to do, areas to go; and
all before eleven o’clock, and meeting the gang for breakfast.
Returning silently from the bathroom, everything was laid out and ready. She had
not moved in the quiet room. That was about to change. It was slavegirl wakeup time,
but it would not come from the hotel front desk.
Pulling down the sheet, spreading her legs, he mounted her. It was sudden and
relentless, not brutal, but determined and forceful, he pushed hard, and deeply into her
rectum. Sleep was gone and she moaned painfully. He pinned her head to the pillow,
drove on and growled.
“Squeeze slavegirl.”
His purpose was not making love, or even the rough sex they often enjoyed. Today
she was an object, used to receive sperm and nothing more. He wanted it that way,
urgent and fast. The imagery created in her mind was powerful. The sudden
transformation from deep sleep, to slave reality, that her body could be used despite her,
profoundly impacted her mind. In a few raw hard minutes he grunted and finished. She
was panting and wantonly displayed, gaping open, but she had not moved.
“Who are you?” he whispered in her ear.
Submissively, surrendered, almost to herself, she whispered.
“A slave.”
The first cane stroke jolted her, but she was quiet. She took many that morning.
Never before was she caned so hard, or thoroughly. Not an inch of her bottom, or thighs
was unmarked. Welts rose on welts, her skin inflamed, badly bruised and swollen. He
knew where her head was and he wanted her there, deep into her slave world. She was
watching and experiencing from within. She was long past feeling pain. They were at a
new level, deeper more spiritual, two souls linked, in love, dedicated, unable to voice it.
It was unconditional.
He rolled her over. Her eyes were sealed, blocking everything but her master’s
voice. The cane continued and her breasts, tummy, pubic mound, and her thighs were
not spared. Time meant nothing, each stroke linking them closer, defining them. He
watched her face muscles ripple with each stroke, hearing small moans when her nipples
and mound felt the burning.
Finished finally, he looked down. She was beautiful, the most beautiful in the world
to this man. Spread-eagled, surrendered, hands bound to the bed. Her head moved
erratically, and involuntary shudders rolled up and down her body. Her hips rose,
pleading of the need he knew had come again, as it had so often, since they arrived. She
had experienced much already, but not that final hungered for release. From the cane, to
taking her ass, to the blindfold last night, and the hands. Hundreds of anonymous hands
feeling, squeezing, slapping, and pinching; men, women, masters, mistresses and
slaves allowed to feel her. She absorbed and obeyed, focused always on her master’s
voice.
The paddles and whips, the needles, an invasive speculum, he looked down at his
gem. Yes, he thought, she was his slave, and had experienced so much in just a day. All
but what her hips now told him she needed, had needed so badly last night too, but was
left wanting. Not yet, not soon either. Kneeling between her legs, he clawed his nails
down her tummy and surrounded her need. The moan and rising hips pleased him.
Taking the liquid lubricant he dribbled a line down each lip, then coated his hand and
wrist. She had taken his hand before. This time urgency would be added.
But the urgency came from her; and he was stunned.
Without warning he thrust into her, and his wrist disappeared. She exploded. The
scream and moan came instantly. Her hips snapped and legs went rigid. The straps
holding her hands pulled on the headboard, loosening it from the wall. He had not
expected the orgasm, or the intensity, and violence that enveloped her. She thrashed on
his arm convulsing, gasping, her face and chest blood red. Veins distended her forehead
and temples. She appeared in a death throe. He let her ride his hand, fending off her
spastic legs in self-defense. It was the most violent orgasm he had ever seen. And as
suddenly as it came, it was gone. She lay deathly still, panting, her face soaked in
perspiration, still tensed and tight. He slowly pulled out, and she moaned at the
emptiness.
Sitting watching her, minutes turned into an hour. She had not moved. Her chest
was rising and falling slower and rhythmically now. Sitting beside her, he patiently
stroked her face and hair. She needed to know she was not alone.
When her eyes first opened she stared blankly at the ceiling. She heard the words
“goodgirl, goodgirl”, over and over, giving her the comfort she did not think she
 deserved. Finally turning, she saw him, staring, but not moving. A small tear rolled
down her face. In such a small voice, so vulnerable and defenseless, he heard her.
“I’m sorry.”
They had showered now. He had needed to hold her to keep from falling. They had
not spoken any more. Room Service had come and gone, and they lay against the
headboard in warm robes sipping coffee. He waited for her. She was thinking hard, and
words would come when she understood.
It took some minutes and without looking up she spoke softly, haltingly.
“I didn’t know.”
“It just happened.”
“It was such a relief when I felt your fist.”
“Then it was on me. I didn’t feel it coming.”
More moments past, and she looked up, and kissed his cheek. Looking at him, she
whispered.
“I love you Master. My heart hurts disappointing you. Please punish me, I need to
know you will forgive me.”
Her head dropped and he stroked her hair.
“Why did you cum?”
She thought about the question, the silence thick in the air. She was ashamed and
afraid. She had disappointed her master, and the thought consumed her.
“It was the relief. I didn’t know. I didn’t expect it.”
“At first I was not thinking at all, in a good way, the way you like. I could hear you,
smell you, and feel your heart in me. It was so peaceful and safe. Then I felt the cold
liquid drip down my lips, and I was suddenly lost. It hit my brain like an anvil. All I
could think is you were going to glue me closed, and it terrified me. I couldn’t move, but
in my mind I was running away. It was like I would be glued closed from you forever. I
could not understand where you got the glue, when you had time, or why you were doing
this to me. Then I felt your fist, and realized I was not being sealed from you. You were
not pushing me away. The relief of your fist just went right through me, and I came. I
don’t know where it came from. It didn’t build, it was just there.”
She stopped and he kept stroking her hair. Her words were sinking in for him.
“We learned something this morning, pet. Something important.”
He paused putting together his thoughts.
 “I am not going to punish you. I cannot punish when we explored a new level, and
you were loyal and dedicated, so obedient, and open to your soul. We grew today. I
cannot punish you when I took you to a new place and got a reaction unexpected, and
uncontrollable. Your orgasm was obedience. It was your love for me that put you in
that position, and it was unintentional. You obeyed. You opened yourself and followed,
trusted, and reacted honestly. No, I cannot punish you for doing what I wanted. You
grew and learned the depth of your need, and it was beautiful.”
She was crying now, the relief uncontained. They stayed still until she stopped, and
then he kissed her and smiled.
“I grew too, pet.
She looked up, seriously wondering with innocent eyes.
“I learned, that was the best mind fuck I have ever done, and didn’t know I was
doing!”
It took a moment, then she smiled and they kissed. He made gentle love to his
slave that morning. They were very late for breakfast.
 Chapter VII - The Passion Of M/s

Beauty of Master & Slavery

Why do we do what we do? Why do we buck the norm to develop a relationship, so

different than the majority of committed couples, who enter conventional marriages.
This book is full of many reasons why, of course. But, sometimes the words of others
strike chords of harmony in our soul, that explains better than we ever could. Here are
two such examples.
William Shakespeare could turn a phrase like few others. His wordsmith ability
aside, it is staggering to think he wrote this almost five hundred years ago, in a time and
place, where non-consensual slavery flourished. Yet here it is, a Sonnet to the beauty of
voluntary obedience and service, enshrined by the great bard in magical words. The
harmonious beauty of master and slave together is time honored and rich in our history.
We carry it on, and pass it on.

Sonnet 57

Being your slave what should I do but tend

Upon the hours, and times of your desire?
I have no precious time at all to spend;
Nor services to do, till you require.
Nor dare I chide the world without end hour,
Whilst I, my sovereign, watch the clock for you,
Nor think the bitterness of absence sour,
When you have bid your servant once adieu;
Nor dare I question with my jealous thought
Where you may be, or your affairs suppose,
But, like a sad slave, stay and think of nought
Save, where you are, how happy you make those.
 So true a fool is love, that in your will,
Though you do anything, he thinks no ill.
William Shakespeare

The Proposal

Many talented writers publish stories and anecdotes illustrating the peace and
tranquility of master-slave living. Rather than compete with their brilliance, here then is
a true story of two friends, one learning of the others engagement to her master. It
happened not many years ago. It is one of the shortest, most poignant dialogues of why
we pursue this dream of ours. It stirs feelings within, for those who embrace the beauty
of what we do.
Years ago, as online became a fashionable communication medium, a master friend,
David needed to punish his slave, for a reason long forgotten. The outcome however,
lives forever. As punishment, he had restricted Becky his slave, from seeing her friend
Annii in person, or from speaking to her on the phone for a week. He permitted on-line
chat with her though. Below is a transcript of one of their chats. It is an amazing
dialogue that speaks of the intensity, beauty and peace, as no other. It is the dialogue of
Becky in her euphoria, telling Annii of her wedding engagement to Master David.
This is a true story. The dialogue occurred in a private chat, on Tuesday August
12th, 1996. Those involved are:
Becki: (Becky) real life slave to David
Annii: Becki's best friend and bridesmaid
Master (aka David) Becki's real life Master
What is unique to this story is the relationship David and Becky enjoy. They lived as
master and slave, in a consensual relationship of love and growth. The marriage
proposal occurred in real life, three days prior to this dialogue. Hopefully, this story
illustrates for slaves and dominants alike, the peace, love and tranquility this
lifestyle offers. The dialogue is in its original form, except for cleaning up typos, the
number of which grew to many, as the chat evolved, and panties got damp.

Dialogue

Becki: (giggles) ...David's proposal was.... a little different than that.

Becki: (smirk)
 Annii: Hehe.. I bet it was :))))))))))))))))))))))
Becki: Annii hon, this is the first and probably only time I can tell this whole story...
no one but you would understand...
Annii: Smiles and listens
Becki: Ok, where to start? lol
Annii: Now start!!! :))
Annii: Is getting antsy
Annii: :)
Becki: Ok...Friday, as you can imagine... we kind of just stayed in bed from about
7pm until 9am.... reading and stuff... nutting exciting. lol
Becki: NOT!
Becki: lol
Annii: lol
Annii: Yeah right
Becki: At first I thought David was just happy to see me... which he was...
Annii: grins
Becki: But by Saturday afternoon, he was acting a bit strange... quiet and pre-
occupied, unusual for him...
Becki: I knew something was up, but was not sure what… in fact I had no idea...
Annii: smiles... How strange?
Annii: Nervous strange?
Becki: Just different, I cannot really say, he was quiet and restless… but not too
much... I'm explaining this awfully, but I just sensed something was different...
Annii: Was just wondering what new toy he was gonna produce huh? (grins) sorry
lol
Annii: Understands :) ....
Becki: The plan was to go out for dinner. Just the two of us...
Becki: Then come home...
Becki: That was fine... the only thing that was different was he wanted me in the
prettiest, most formal dress I own...
 Becki: He was very specific what dress I had to bring to the weekend...
Becki: That afternoon, at 4 p.m. he stood me up...
Becki: And said he would be returning at 7pm to pick me up for dinner...
Becki: I was to spend the time making myself up, bathing and looking the best I
could...
Annii: Ohhhh (smiles continues to listen)
Becki: He left, and at first I just stood there, kind of confused and quite a bit
excited... lol
Becki: Oh yah... bra, no panties... stockings and garter, this off-white (creamy) dress
he loves and heels... that's it, plus jewelry
Annii: Hehehehehe
Becki: Anyway, I relaxed did as I was told and was ready right at 7 sharp... even
though I could have been ready in 10 minutes.
Annii: Thinks three hours is a long time to be thinking about what's next :)))
Becki: Got that right. lol
Becki: He arrived back at 7pm sharp... dressed in a tuxedo... wow was I shocked.
lol (I found out later he went to Andre's, his bud's house, to put it on)...
Annii: Kewl :)))
Becki: Oh you better believe it, I had all kind of fantasies... but marriage never once
crossed my mind... strange eh?
Annii: Perfect in my book :)))
Annii: Taps her screen impatiently… more more more lol
Becki: He took me into the living room and had me pose like a runway model, one
foot in front of the other (hehe pretty easy to do) ...and then stood back and looked at me
and just said, "do not move please".
Becki: Then he left and got one glass of champagne...
Becki: When he came back, he stood in front of me and said tonight was a special
night... to celebrate my homecoming, to celebrate that I didn't cum when I was away, to
celebrate my submission and his pleasure in opening this life to him...
Becki: He put the glass in front of us and said the one glass represented the union of
our souls, that we were one, or something like that I cannot remember the exact words.
Then he gave me a sip, and took one himself. :))))
 Annii: Is smiling so big :)
Becki: I asked if I could kneel for him and he said no, that I was his equal and
though his slave, he wanted me beside him tonight...
Becki: Then he said let’s go, the limo's waiting, and we went to dinner... (I was
shocked) lol
Annii: :))
Becki: Bored Annii hon, cuz I'm not halfway done yet. lol
Annii: No way!!!
Becki: giggles
Annii: Hanging on every word as a matter of fact :)))
Annii: I am feeling all kinda romantic and stuff :)))
Becki: It was funny, in the afternoon I was really nervous, but in the living room,
when he said that, I was just so happy, no nerves at all...
Annii: That was perfect to say :)
Becki: Oh and btw, he had not scened me Friday night, so nothing was sore... he just
bound me.... I didn't know at the time it was part of his plan...
Annii: Ohhhh.. what a guy what a guy :))))
Becki: We went to a French restaurant... was tres cool... a wine steward, 3 different
waiters, the maitre’d practically fed us he was so attentive...
Annii: Woo hooooo :))
Annii: Good wine, good food, great company :))))))
Becki: They had soft lights, a fire way in the other room, a small ensemble playing...
it was sooooo romantic....
Annii: I wish I had been a crumb in yer dress that day :))
Becki: We ate, and between courses we danced... hehe
Becki: lol
Annii: Ahhhh.. yer melting me darlin!!
Becki: We finished and got home about 11...
Annii: :))
Becki: Then the fun started. lol
 Annii: grins
Becki: I'm too tired, I think I'll go to bed now, tell you the rest some other time
ok???
Annii: Heck no!
Annii: Ties you to the cubbie
Annii: lol
Becki: roflmao jumps in yer lap... hehe, was just teasing ya. lol
Becki: Now the good part...
Annii: Cuddles you close and listens
Becki: Unless my father finds out then David's dead meat. lol
Annii: Daddies are always better left in the dark lol
Becki: I was really, really horny by the time we got home...he kept playing with me
in the limo and he wouldn't stop kissing my neck...
Becki: But David was horny too.
Annii: lol
Becki: It was one of those special nights when the world doesn't exist... just me and
Master...
Annii: Ahh yes :)))))
Becki: He asked me to stand in the living room again, straight and not to move....
Annii: squeezes as she listens
Becki: Sheesh I'm horny remembering this.... but I will press on like a good little
slave. .. hehe...
Annii: Good girl lol
Becki: David went around the room lighting candles...
Becki: Then turning off all the lights...
Annii: Ahh wowwowow
Becki: He has a gas fireplace and he lit that too...
Becki: He brought me a glass of wine and gave me a sip... remember, I was not
allowed to move...
 Annii: Right...
Annii: Is picturing every step :))
Becki: He stood in front of me and told me he was going to take my clothes off...
Becki: I always had taken them off before...
Annii: :)
Becki: He drove me nuts... he took off the jewelry first, and was sooooo slow about
it...
Becki: It took him about 15 minutes to get an earring off fer cripes sake...
Annii: lol
Becki: I was ready to reach up and rip it off...
Annii: lol
Becki: He kept whispering at me the whole time...
Becki: Stuff like... "you are my slave"...
Annii: Oh gawd...
Annii: is squirming in her chair lol
Becki: Annii hon, by the time I was naked, I was dripping...
Becki: literally...
Annii: Whew!!!! :)))))
Becki: I could feel myself on my thighs... but I was not nervous, I was proud and
happy, and tranquil...
Becki: I remember LT telling me I would feel that one day... and I did...
Annii: Huggles you close to me … this is beautiful hun
Becki: Then David blindfolded me... and told me to stay still....
Becki: Have you ever tried standing still blindfolded not holding anything... its
hard!!!
Annii: Nods dizzying experience lol
Becki: lol
Annii: Better when your legs are spread real wide lol
 Becki: You know then... and dripping horny didn't help. lol
Becki: No, no, my legs weren't apart, I was posed.
Annii: lol
Annii: Hehehe
Becki: Feet one in front of the other...
Annii: Oh wow!
Becki: Anyway... I could hear David moving something....
Becki: Didn't know what... but I knew something was moving....
Annii: Thinks... moving something moving something.. hmm hmm
Becki: I was sweating at this point, the candles made the room hot... I distinctly
remembering how hot it was...
Annii: :)))
Becki: He then took me by the shoulders and walked me to this thing I couldn't see...
Becki: It was a big wooden X he had made, but I didn't know it at the time...
Annii: grins!!
Becki: I remember him taking my arms and putting my leather cuffs on (and ankles)
and he hooked me to this thing, so I was really stretched out and spread-eagled...
Becki: Bum against it, facing the room...
Becki: I tell you, I was almost ready to cum Annii, I was so horny and he hadn't even
touched me...
Annii: Hehe
Becki: Then he kissed me like I have never been kissed...
Becki: It was so amazing...
Annii: wiggles
Annii: :))))))))
Becki: Hehe
Becki: Finally, he stopped for a second and said... Becky, you are my slave. .. I am
going to kiss you again and touch your cunt. ... and you are to cum...
Annii: This is making me hot.. and this was happening to YOU lol
 Annii: mouth drops
Becki: I think I said "yes Master", but who fucking knows... I was beyond thinking...
lol
Annii: lol
Becki: Then he kissed me, and I kept waiting for him to touch me... and waiting and
waiting and waiting...
Annii: Ohhh gawd...
Becki: I dunno how long it was but I honestly thought I was going to lose my mind...
Becki: Then...
Becki: He pinched my clit so hard, right out of the blue... I exploded... I literally
went through the roof.... I dunno how I didn't break that X. :))))))))))))
Annii: rofl!!!!!!
Annii: Woo hoooooooo!!!!
Becki: Talk about the ultimate cummmmm... I was gasping, I could barely breath....
I was convulsing…
Annii: :))))))
Becki: And he kept kissing me through the whole thing...
Annii: Good man good man!!!
Becki: :)))))))))
Becki: When I finally settled down he held his body against me... (He was still in his
tux)...
Becki: And he said that I was the only thing in the world that mattered...
Annii: strokes you gently as you continue...
Becki: He would own me forever...
Annii: Oh gosh becki! :)))
Becki: He said he wanted to mark me as his....
Becki: I was so out of it emotionally at this point I never really understood what he
meant...
Annii: nods
Becki: But I remember thinking he was going to brand me... and I didn't care...
 Annii: listens
Annii: You had hit sub space way back there :))
Becki: He released one hand and put a ring on me (the engagement ring) and
whispered that I was now marked as his, forever, that I was his slave, and now would be
his wife...
Annii: Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh wowwwwwwwww
Annii: smiles!!!!
Becki: He then untied me and picked me up and carried me to the bedroom... and we
made love. .. I do not even remember falling asleep.
Becki: See Dad would freak if I told him this. lol
Annii: Beautiful!!!! Absolutely beautiful!!!!
Annii: Ok, yeah.
Annii: lol So what did you tell everyone?
Becki: That I was pregnant and made him marry me. rofl
Annii: Holds you close. You and him were meant to be hun.
 Chapter VIII - The Slave Mind

The Slave Mindset

A theme threading its way throughout this classic tome of master-slave living, is the
importance of the slave mindset. Be it this book, at public speaking engagements, or
casually around a coffee table, it is a topic that, over and over, comes up in discussions
of developing a stable, long-term, master-slave dynamic. Identifying it, learning it,
knowing it, and nurturing it, is espoused time and again, as a cornerstone for the
successful master wanting to lead a healthy and enduring slave relationship. And why
would it not be so? In any relationship, you want to know who your partner is, and how
she thinks. Yet, having only alluded to it thus far, and considering its’ critical
importance for master-slavery to work, it serves well to now examine it in detail.
What is so unique, precious, and rare about this thing called the slave mindset? What
is it that makes this girl different than vanilla women? What are these important and
unusual needs she has? How do we identify them and what do we do about it then?
Like understanding all issues in the BDSM lifestyle, keeping away from flowery
romantic notions that blur fundamentals is important, especially when we need to get at
the core identifiers of consensual slavery. Add back the romance later, it is an important
element of your style, but only after an understanding what drives these unique women.
Learning the slave mindset begins with understanding what brings her to slavery in
the first place. The motivation to seek out and live indentured is as much a factor as any
in defining her success in the lifestyle. There is no question the attraction of slavery is
alluring to many people. Its attraction snares a wide variety of folks, coming to it for
different reasons. Some of those reasons represent an unidentified core need she feels,
but may not understand. In that case, it needs exploring, and development into
something wonderful. For others their motivation is less healthy. It is wise to direct the
latter group to a different niche than master-slave TPE, perhaps back to their vanilla
worlds, to a financial planner, or even a psychiatrist’s couch.
Finding someone with a slave mindset is rare. Having met countless women
professing their slave needs, they love chattering on endlessly how they were born to this
calling. The ones making that claim, that I have met, number in the thousands, over
many years. The stark fact is though, I can count perhaps a few dozen, give or take, with
the combination of healthy motivation, and genuine core slave needs, who are able to
find enduring happiness in the master-slave niche. Those thousands of others find other
niches, perhaps less strident and structured than the master-slave genre, and that works
for them. They also end up very happy. There are certainly enough combinations of the
Three Powers to accommodate everyone. When aspiring to the TPE, 24/7 same roof
niche though, what motivates and represents the slave mind, with minor differences is
virtually identical in every slave I have known.

Motivation To A Life Of Slavery

Success as a master, and obviously for a slave, begins with a healthy understanding
of her motivations in choosing slavery as her lifestyle. Do not underestimate the
importance of that statement. As master, you have to make a commitment from the
beginning, to explore just what brings her to you. After reading about the slave’s
mindset further on, come back and re-read this section. Examine her motivation again,
but now in context of appreciating what makes her unique. Most will conclude, the
motivations to want slavery are as important as her need for obedience, service,
structure, and direction.
Even in the early days of Wayne’s group, it was made clear what comprised a
healthy motivation to a life of consensual slavery. It was then and still is, very simple to
understand.
If a woman can manage her life successfully, while single, then she is likely coming
to slavery from a healthy perspective. If she is essentially happy, has good relations with
friends and neighbors, family and co-workers, can balance her checkbook, eats properly,
and contributes to her community and society, then she is managing her life. If her life is
relatively well balanced and successful, and she still wants to explore this, then she is
likely in good shape to do so. All these aspects of her life need not be perfect, that is not
the message. She does not need to be some super woman. But, by and large, she is
managing quite well and is happy. There is certainly no immediate need for someone to
fix her, in order to survive. Sure she can do better, as we all can, and she continually
strives to improve, but she is living and coping just fine, thank you very much. Yet,
while she is content, she knows deep in her soul there is something more for her.
She needs to explore deep feelings to serve and please, in unique ways that nag at
her. It is fundamental to how she is wired. Some are like that. It is who they are. She
knows that while capable and skilled to manage her life, she is happier surrendering that
power to someone she respects and adores. She is happy to follow responsible
leadership. She is cognizant of the reality that in some areas of life, she is more skilled
and capable than her master, yet she is prepared to offer control even then, because it
makes her happy. Not just wet pussy happy, but peaceful in her heart happy. Good
masters know how to deal with superior slave skills, so her being more accomplished, or
educated in certain areas, is easily handled in the master-slave dynamic.
A precursor to understan0ding the slave mindset came early in life, in a lesson never
 forgotten, about the caregiver mentality, something similar, though not the same as
submissive needs. A girlfriend had dumped me for a nice fellow, but who was paralyzed
from the waist down and permanently in a wheelchair. Her decision puzzled me and
self-mockingly, with crass youthful humor, I made an immature joke to my father about
being a bad lover to lose her to a cripple. My father did not laugh, seeing through the
distasteful humor as a disguise for the real hurt felt at the time.
He explained a lesson never forgotten, that some women are caregivers, it is what
they do. They find great joy making others lives more pleasant. That this man was
wheelchair bound and sexual intercourse would never be possible, did not matter to the
girl. What drove her were strong needs to care for him, respect his other fine qualities,
(which were many, he is a terrific guy, we are still friends thirty-five years later) while
making sure his life was comfortable. That really turned her crank, buzzed her, got her
juices flowing, alive in who she was.
As a teen emerging into the adult world at the time, it was the first time I realized,
women think differently than men. It was a lesson never forgotten, a pearl of wisdom
taught early in life. The cuff on the head by Dad, also taught that negative humor
preying on others misfortune, as I had done, was not only immature, but also very
offensive, and was another lesson learned early.
So, a well-balanced, self-managed life by a single woman seeking exploration of her
deep core needs, that she feels and know exist, but may be confused about, is a healthy
platform from which to explore slavery. That is not just motivation, it is also a healthy
starting point.
There are however, other motivations bringing many women to the lifestyle. For
some it is just the flat out raw sexuality of the alpha male. These girls are wonderful and
fun, and that attraction usually exists in the TPE slave as well. That alone though, as the
girl’s sole motivation, will not serve the dedicated master in fulfilling his long-term
needs. It will be a fun ride though.
For some, this next statement may ruffle a few feathers. Too often women with
severe failings in their lives come to the lifestyle to get fixed. In fairness, too many self-
proclaimed dominants do the same, but that isn’t the issue here. It is, however, a bad
motivation regardless, and not part of the slave mindset that very often, if ever, produces
a happy slave in the long term.
It is also, an explosive statement, simply because motivation and mental health are
not important to some who want to broaden the lifestyle. Some noisy advocates of
BDSM have an agenda to mainstream the lifestyle, and an easy way to do that, is
showing that massive numbers of people partake. The assumption then is it must be
healthy for all. I am not an advocate of mainstreaming for reasons discussed later.
However, some folks very definitely need public acceptance, or more succinctly put,
authentication from the vanilla world for their personal choices. When that crosses over
 to including those that only invest into the lifestyle for ulterior motives, then it crosses
the line. In light of the populist movement to mainstream, the statement will ruffle
feathers for having the audacity to call down their BDSM Holy Grail. My assertion
suggests the community is not nirvana to all. Whether others agree or not, it is a fact,
and if some get their whips tangled over this, is not something about which I give a rat’s
ass.
But, let’s look at it more closely. Many proclaiming their slavery, whether they are
willing to admit it or not, come seeking cures for character flaws; physical ailments;
perpetual laziness (hoping for a life of having things done to them), to shirk personal
responsibility; or are flat out looking for a meal ticket. Yes, there are gold diggers in this
lifestyle, as elsewhere. Mostly though, too many are looking for a Mrs. designation,
using slavery to find a husband, their submission a façade.
The fact is, dominants are not universal fixers in the lifestyle. We are not social
workers, or even personal shrinks. If a slave is broken, this is not the place to seek a
cure. For those masters of noble and naïve heart, thinking part of mastery pre-
ownership, is to coddle and heal, great, go about your business being all things to all
people. You will have a full dance card to be sure. But, you lack a perspective of
mastery needed to avoid burnout and utter frustration that often leads to an emerging
vanilla dynamic, or turns to contempt over time. If you are happy with vanilla, then by
all means, go for it. This book however, is rather useless to you. The fix me slaves are
often only temporarily submissive, or at best, submit when it is convenient.
Now, please do not misunderstand. Masters heal their own when their slave breaks.
That is definitely part of mastery. But the practice of mastery is not a substitute for
therapy, before a slave is even owned! You are not a trained therapist, and some slaves
come to this lifestyle needing just that service. Providing it is not wise. Doing so before
owning her is even dumber. She is using you as a crutch to prop up failings in her life.
If being a crutch is your thing, ok, go for it, but it is generally not a healthy foundation
for an enduring master-slave relationship.
Some subscribe to the popular cliché that submission is a gift. You have likely heard
the expression. That it is not is examined later, but in context of a well-adjusted, self-
sufficient woman offering management and control of her life, if submission is a gift in
any context, this would be it. To offer control to another while being perfectly capable
of managing her life while alone, is indeed of value. It is treasured. It has meaning,
especially when she knows that in some areas she may be better skilled and able than her
Master. Offering herself so the dominant can fix her though, is of little or no value. If
submission is a gift, then at least make it valuable. Get control of your life before unduly
burdening some master with your issues, is my advice to prospective slaves. A
slave need not be perfect, but she cannot expect a healthy master-slave relationship when
offering herself from the precipice of disaster. These are unhealthy motivations.
 Dependency - Good Or Bad?

If, what brings a slave to wanting a power exchange relationship is negative and
unhealthy, that is often mirrored once the relationship has survived a number of years.
Some form of dependency grows, or evolves that like her motivations, can be healthy, or
not. It serves us all well to examine various types of dependencies in light of both her
motivations to slavery, and within the relationship, once established and evolving.
Naysayers of the master-slave culture love to point out that a slave can quickly find
herself in a negative dependent relationship, effectively unable to function outside the
relationship, with the attending loss of skills, freedom and personal power. That can be
true, without a doubt, but it is not automatic and need not be so. When it is present,
relationship work needs to be done, but it does not in and of itself nullify the master-
slave dynamic.
Masters need to understand the various types of dependencies, the symptoms, and
then incorporate rules and their style to re-enforce the positive, and avoid the negative.
He needs to do this for himself as well. The danger exists that he too, can fall victim to
negative dependencies.
Virtually all relationships have a form of dependency, and that can be healthy. There
are three types and you must understand these. It is critically important for when, not if,
but when, a slave starts to lose focus and identity. He needs these too, to analyze,
understand and if need be, re-direct her motivations, before committing to her. When
looking at your relationship, analyze it for evidence of classical “Dependent,” “Co-
dependent,” or “Interdependent” symptoms and signs.
Dependent: Classically, a dependent relationship exists when your slave MUST rely
on you for emotional, mental and physical needs. We see dependent relationships
evidenced with small children, who are totally dependent on their parents for survival. It
is easily identified, but in the master-slave niche, it is not very healthy.
Co-dependency: This again, is not a particularly healthy type of dependency. Yet, it
is all too prevalent in vanilla and power exchange relationships. It is similar to the
dependent type, but rather than just one partner, it can be both that assist each other to
meet the same emotional, mental and physical needs. Now on the surface, that sounds
ideal for a master-slave couple, but another identifying characteristic of co-dependency,
is that either, or both partners may not be aware of their own expectations, and thus do
not communicate, or worse yet, do not agree, to their role within the relationship. The
result is a failure to accept responsibility for meeting those needs and expectations. You
can easily understand why this becomes unacceptable for any master who thrives on
accepting his responsibilities. If the responsibility issue does not do him in, the failure to
communicate will. These characteristics are anathema to the tenets of responsible
mastery. Key factors for masters to be aware of to avoid co-dependency; are indications
the slave may have overwhelming emotions of guilt, resentment, anger, or fear; that she
 feels trapped in the relationship and feels helpless to extricate herself, or even address
the feelings to you, and/or that she is feeling overly responsible for you. Those last two
symptoms are almost always certainly the result of overbearing dominance, stifled, or
ineffective communication channels, and feeling like her master needs a mother, not a
slave. He is tasking her, as he should, but failing to follow-up, or care enough to
appreciate her service. In effect, she perceives she is the only one working at the
relationship. At that point, she is probably correct.
Interdependent: This is the third category of dependency and an ideal model for a
master. It is healthy and vibrant for any loving couple. Master-slavery is not a selfish
one-way street, as much as opponents of the TPE niche would like you to think so. In
fact, it is arguably one of the most selfless relationships one can enter, simply because so
much emphasis is focused on identifying needs, then mastering them. That the needs are
not mainstream is irrelevant. An interdependent relationship is one where both master
and slave rely on each other, at least in part, depending on the niche of the Three
Powers agreed to; and assist with meeting the emotional, mental and physical needs.
Realizing the richness of this, is in thoroughly discussing and understanding those needs
honestly and openly; and each agrees to their role and responsibilities in the relationship.
Bingo!

Understanding The Slave's Mind

“A good master will make her a good slave.

Get into her head son.
Understand what motivates her. What makes her purr.
Realize what you say is not always what she hears.
When you have mastered how a slave thinks and understand her core need to serve
and obey…
When you really believe in those needs…
Then and only then can you begin to consider owning a slave.”
Have you ever heard that before? They are the opening words of this book. It
figures a domly sort could go on and write a whole book explaining what this brief
passage says so succinctly. The notion of the slave mindset is written about over and
over here, to emphasize the importance of a master understanding this critical component
of his mastery. For any hope to maintain the master-slave dynamic over time, this is
gospel.
So what is it all about and what exactly is this magical, unique thing of her mind?
 When a slave first comes to explore the lifestyle, she does not have to know, or
understand the needs she has. That she might is a bonus, that her master needs to
develop, expose and grow those needs, is a given. So understanding the slave mind is
often a double-edged sword, part responsibility of the slave, and part that of her master.
You have built communication channels early to facilitate this exploration and these are
the first benefits of structured communication.
What is noteworthy is that if the slave does not grasp and permanently identify with
these needs, then likely something is very wrong, perhaps in her motivation, or simply
differing core needs, but regardless, you have a poor match for life in the TPE niche of
the Three Power spectrum. So finding out is essential.
We had talked for hours, discussing various perceptions of the lifestyle and what
mastery and slavery meant to each other. I had asked questions and she answered,
understanding I was not sitting in judgment, merely exploring where her mind was, in
the here and now. I knew full well, if she was to be mine, I could teach new perspectives
she had not yet considered.
The conversation was fun and we laughed a lot. Then I slipped in the one question
that was indeed, a deal breaker. The setting was perfect. She was relaxed and
unthreatened by our discussion. I slipped it in inconspicuously knowing an answer in
the affirmative would move us forward, and in the negative would end my interest in her
as my slave. It was a rare dealmaker, or breaker question. To get the truthful answer it
had to be this way.
For one simple question to have so much riding on it, seems unfair, but experience is
a great teacher and relying on the answer born of it. An answer in the negative meant
she did not get it, and likely never would. In the affirmative and the first bridge was
built. Forget all the other words. This answer would define her ability to live within the
niche I prowled.
“Pet, tell me something please. If I said to you, as my slave how you speak to me is
important what would you say? And before answering, understand what I mean is an
expectation for you to communicate in a submissive manner to me at all times. Not baby
talk, that is not what this is about, nor sentences riddled with ‘Master’ and ‘Sir’ every
other word. Nor do I mean the third person Gorean custom. I just mean, how you speak
reflects our chosen lifestyle as different than others, and your sentences are constructed
differently than to anyone else in the world. Submissive talk is not to restrict what you
say, just how you say it. Are the choices of your words important, or is the power
structure between us the critical mass? Is our conversation style not an issue as long as
you can communicate your ideas? What would you say?"
And BANG, I had my answer.
Years of experience have taught and it is worth passing on, that if a slave does not
grasp the concept of how she talks to her master, as a vital component of his structure,
then she will do poorly in this niche of the lifestyle. If the message communicated is not
equal to the method of its conveyance, then she does not get it. If he allows that
inequality to exist, then he does not get it either. It is that important. Knowing she never
will get it is the worst part. She will likely think and process everything using learned,
habitual, vanilla methods. She cannot be allowed to talk to her master however she sees
fit. It is a recipe for vanilla pudding. That is a very different concept than in
traditional style unions.
Must it be that way? That is beyond my abilities to answer, but I am not inclined to
re-invent the wheel. Nor am I inclined to bang my head against a wall, knowing the wall
will win. If she understands immediately, that there are channels of communication
available to her, and how she speaks to her master is as important as what she says, then
she likely has and will grasp all the other aspects of the slave mind. Those other
components can be nurtured, this one cannot. She either gets it, or she does not. Take
that to the Bank of St. Andrew’s Crosses.
A good beginning to explore a slave’s mind, and one that will help her understand, is
to give her a simple task.
Have her make a list of skills, traits, habits, knowledge, experience, and education
she brings to the relationship, that can be utilized to serve and enrich your life. She will
not like the task, so another simple “Suck it up princess” is probably needed. Notice
though, in this case, do not say “her”, or “our” life, but rather just yours (her master’s)
life. Limiting the scope and doing it this way, serves two purposes. It is the first step in
the process of developing a habit that her outlook and focus on life, as a slave, has now
fundamentally changed, to prioritize on her master. All aspects of her life are now
weighed and conducted, analyzing how it impacts her master’s life. This is a good
beginner step, the first of many taken to nurture that conduct into habit for her.
Remember, as a slave, she wants this, so you are not acting selfishly in developing this
habit, nor are you imposing on her identity, or self-worth.
By having her accomplish this task, you also introduce to her, that while no menial
chore is beneath her, and those will occur from time to time, her real service comes from
enriching your life by contributing in useful ways. Using all her talent and capabilities,
and often utilizing skills she may have that you may not, is an important element of her
submission. This concept has a huge positive effect on a slave’s mind. It provides
context for the other aspects of the slave mindset. While she may be chattel without
rights, it recognizes she still has the human core need to contribute positively in ways
that utilize all her capabilities. The message is clear, her mind and brain cannot atrophy
in slavery. Rather, she is utilized, encouraged and expanded to grow her useful, service
to you, thus, enriching you both. She in effect gets to be your loving partner in the
vanilla world, successful, charming, energetic, and useful while perceived as equal, and
at the same time knowing her happiness stems from the utter surrendering of control to
her master, known only between them. He becomes her bedrock, and she becomes his
 treasure.
You must nurture her vanilla endeavors too. There is more to her life than just
slavery, as addictive and peaceful as that is. It is not just your personal relationship that
is important. She also has vanilla interests, and if not, she better get some. They are
interesting and topics of conversation between you. She learns right from the beginning,
her slavery is not a free ride, in fact, quite the opposite. Needed are all her skills to
contribute and serve. She learns early that slavery is mentally stimulating, as opposed to
the stereotypical drone sex receptacle, of popular literature.
This task immediately establishes a precedent. She knows, that to thrive in your
mastery, she is required to be useful, alive, thinking, and vibrant in service, all of which
sets the table to nurture her slave heart. That heart leads directly to her slave mind, and
her unique needs.
Have her repeat the task every six months or so. It also serves to know how your
slave can serve you, a process that undoubtedly changes as you grow and age.

A Slave Of The Heart - The SODS Principle

Before we even begin to examine her slave mind, we need to make sure we keep
perspective. This examination delves into her slave mind and core needs. She has other
needs too, like many people, and as her master you cannot forget, or ignore those. She
has a vanilla life with friends, co-workers, family et al. She needs balance in her life.
Her slave mind relates to your personal dynamic only. Do not neglect her other needs,
or you will both miss out on much of the joy that life offers.
With that perspective in mind: “the slave mind”, learn this about her, gentlemen.
Search inward slave girls. It is all good stuff.
A slave mind has four crucial elements. They exist to varying degrees from slave to
slave, but are pronounced personal characteristics for the woman who can thrive in
responsible TPE structure. Together they produce a synergy that when combined with
responsible mastery, create the potential for immense happiness. However, if her master
will not provide a platform to utilize all four, then she needs a fifth element.
The source of these needs is inside the very core of her soul. They are personal
identifiers and triggers needed to sustain happiness. They are as much who she is as any
personality trait she may have. Believe in them, because they are rare to find and
beautiful when developed, but mostly they are just required elements for a slave to be
happy.
Oddly enough, they are completely in your hands. You control them, manage them,
and exercise power over them. She has them, but without you, they are dormant,
 unfulfilled, and useless.
How does that feel? You have the ability to create a person’s wildest happiness, by
only doing exactly what you have trained yourself to do by choice, freely, because in
doing so you create your own personal freedom. I raise my glass to you gentlemen. By
learning mastery, you create a wonderful win/win situation. The path to your own
happiness is managing the beauty of another’s.
The needs these precious women have are what make up the slave mindset. They are
core needs in her; yet also define our lifestyle. Often cooked in vanilla terms, they have
a distinctly different taste. A slave’s minds unique needs are to understand that Service,
Obedience, Direction and Structure create a platform for happiness and fulfillment. The
SODS Principle. They are the slave mindset.
Now, those words are often applied to other aspects of many people’s lives outside
the master-slave dynamic. We teach them to children, military personnel, and in
endowing a spirit of social benevolence. They serve a different purpose here. They
separate and define the difference between a slave of the heart, one whose need to serve
and obey go to her soul as personal character traits identifying who she is; and a slave of
convenience, the me-me-me slave, who submits essentially when, and how it suits her.

SODS - Service

The service aspect of a slave’s mind is subtle and often misunderstood. Yet it is very
real. Understanding it is crucial for the master. Some members of the lifestyle suggest
that the difference between a slave and a bottom; is her willingness to serve in nonsexual
ways. Many women when dreaming of slavery have fantasies about obedience and
discipline, of being taken and forced. For the dreamers, there is often only a sexual
component to their service, and for many that is the extent of the Three Powers they
surrender. Yet in a slave’s reality, that is often only a small component of her service. It
is a fun one to be sure, but just a portion nonetheless.
An essential aspect of service is being useful to her master, and fulfilling that need
drives her. There is nothing worse for a slave than to feel she is an anchor around her
master’s neck, or to be unappreciated, unused, or neglected. Even the master’s choice of
words while interacting with his slave, affects the atmosphere and tone of the
relationship. For example, many prefer the word “use” when interacting with her
sexually and during sado-masochistic activities. Yet, they use different words when
tasking her with non-sexual commands. The subtle, but important difference reflects an
interesting paradox.
Slaves enjoy the concept of sexual use, it is part of the thrill for them, and hammers
home, in no uncertain terms that she is a slave and does not control her body. But, no
 one enjoys being “used” in the vanilla sense that implies abuse. So rather than explain
it, just avoid it. If the house needs cleaning, or the car washing, or groceries bought, or
any of the countless routine tasks of daily life, or even when tasking her advanced skills,
by changing the descriptive words of how that occurs, can represent a subtle, yet
profound difference for the slave’s long-term self-worth, and sense of value. In fact, it
addresses her service needs. Describing her daily non-sexual tasks in terms of her being
“useful” rather than “used”, creates a profoundly healthier environment. Removing the
potential negative aspects of humiliation and degradation from the mundane daily
agenda is important.
Creating a setting where your slave feels useful is nothing but positive for her, and
changes the perception of non-sexual tasks from oppressive to freeing. Slaves thrive in
being useful, providing service, feeling they count and make a difference. It thus
behooves the wise master to avoid the second mother complex, having her feel like she
is at his lazy-ass beck and call, as a surrogate mother. That attitude, while immature,
also trivializes her service needs. Wanting a momma-slave is emotionally abusive, and
she will be gone from you quickly; and even perhaps from the lifestyle, if that is her
perception of the totality of mastery. She wants to please and serve you. It is a core
need. Give her the opportunity in a positive environment.
It is worth noting and understanding the service component of the total slave mindset
by addressing the issue of dignity and honor to be in service. There is a generally
prevalent impression by many today, that there is indignity to be in service. Some
perceive that it is unworthy and degrading to provide service as a vocation, or as part of
a relationship. It is a prevalent stigma that somehow a servant is less. Perhaps this stems
as an enduring stigma from the caste mentality of a century ago, or from poor service
one encounters from time to time. Or, maybe, it is as simple as experiencing some
service people who have been uncouth, illiterate, untrustworthy, or seriously
opportunistic.
Yet, well-trained high-class servants are anything but, and are more often well-
groomed, refined, cultivated, skilled, possessing impeccable manners and high moral
integrity. Still, we customarily do not use the word servant, mindful of the stigma
surrounding that calling. Yet, we are all servants in some way, and look upon it
proudly. Many religious people are servants of God; and those holding high public
office are servants of the people. We routinely refer to those in government as public
servants, even when un-elected. We hold them to high standard and in high regard.
These servants command respect; and no less so is the service of a slave's calling. A
slave is a servant to her master. It is his responsibility to make her useful with dignity.
A master can limit his slave to menial tasks and reap that level of benefit from her. But,
the more advanced the tasks assigned her, the more her skills and talents are used and
made useful. Then she has greater influence on her master’s life. She contributes
enormously and that instills a sense of accomplishment in the slave. The greater you
 make the service to you, the more you both prosper and thrive.

SODS - Obedience

You think so? No fucking way! You cannot make me and I won’t!
He was on her before she realized he had moved and taken her down face first in a
move she didn’t even realize he knew.
“Eat the rug bitch!”
He was on her back pinning her. She struggled and screamed at him.
“Fuck you! Never!”
Quickly he had her hands bound over her head.
“No, fuck you, you worthless cunt. You are going to do it, whether you like it, or
not! Scream all you want, no one can hear you. You are nothing but my fuckmeat.”
He yanked her to her feet and lashed her hands to the ceiling ring. She kicked out
and caught him in the nuts.
“You cunt” he bellowed.
“I am going to shred every piece of skin off your worthless fucking body, until you
beg to obey, beg for mercy, beg to fucking live. I am going to whip you until you are a
broken bleeding bitch. You have no fucking name, no identity, no personality, nothing
bitch. You are my twat to use anyway I want. You are going to learn that even the
slightest hesitation and you better pray to whatever God you have, because it will be the
last thought in your worthless shithead brain.”
He slapped her face hard.
She screamed and kicked out, tears pouring down her face.
“You are a monster you bastard.”
He just laughed and yanked her legs apart binding them to rings in the floor.
“There cunt. Struggle all you want, but you are going to do what I tell you, or you
will need skin grafts on your ass after I finish with you.”
She was standing utterly helpless, hands tied to the ceiling rope and legs fastened
apart. She could not avoid what was coming and she knew her cunt and clit would not
be spared from the whip.
“Fuck you, you bastard. You can rot in hell before I do that!”
 He unfurled the whip.
“You are going to feel this until you beg, you piece of shit. You are going to beg to
eat that girl’s cunt before I am finished with you.”
“Never! Never! Never!” she screamed.
The whip lashed across her back and the welt rose instantaneously. A blood-
curdling scream pierced the room.
The other girl watched from the corner, fingers working furiously in her panties. She
was ready to cum just watching. She could not wait to grab the bitch by the hair and
smother her face with pussy. That the slave hated it and would be whipped first, was
even better. She was going to explode on the girl and drown her.
The whip landed over and over, no quarter given. Her back was a mass of welts, her
ass was bleeding and her inner thighs raw. He had not spared her front either and her
tits were a mess, tummy welted and cunt swollen. The last scream he heard came when
the whip caught her clit.
Yanking her head up by the hair he growled in her face.
“Ready to lick that cunt yet, bitch?”
She spit in his face.
He just laughed and cleaned himself off in her hair.
“You will obey you cunt!” And the whip rained down again.
Her head was down and she hung limply. He barely heard her words.
“What did you say bitch?”
“Please stop. Please” she begged. “I can’t take anymore.”
“What are you going to do to get me to stop bitch?”
She mumbled.
“What did you say?”
“Lick her.”
“Louder bitch, yell it out.”
“LICK HER.”
“Lick her what?”
“LICK HER FUCKING CUNT” she screamed in her exhausted voice.
 “Is that how you talk to your Master you piece of shit?”
“LICK HER CUNT, MASTER.”
“Well, there, now we are getting somewhere and you are right bitch, you are going
to eat her, until I tell you to stop.”
He cut her down and pushed her to her knees.
“Come over here girl.”
The woman in the corner came and stood before the sobbing slave.
“Get those panties off girl, make her eat you.”
She slid her panties down and grabbed the slave by the hair.
“Finally you bitch. Now suck me.” The first of many orgasms exploded on the
slave’s face as soon as she felt the tongue.
Three hours later, welts attended, the slave lay in bed in her Master’s arms. Neither
was asleep, just lying in the dark savoring the evening
“Master, are you awake?”
“Yes girl, what is it?”
“That was hot!”
He smiled.
“Yes it was pet. You were a goodgirl.”
“I like being forced like that sometimes Master, it strikes something deep inside me.
But, tomorrow, can I go back to being just obedient? It was awesome being made to do
that, but a steady diet of that forced obedience is not for me. I love you and just want to
obey more than anything, to see you pleased, happy and not have to be forced to obey.”
He kissed her nose, knowing exactly what she meant. Tonight was just fantasy
roleplay to amuse themselves and it was fun. But it was nothing more than that, for
either of them.
“Mistress Joanne seemed to enjoy my misery Master.”
He grinned, “She enjoyed your mouth too.”
“Yes, I like her Master, but could you find a less hairy girl next time?”
He laughed.
“You are a crazy-ass slavegirl but I love you anyway.”
 Enjoying the BDSM lifestyle takes many forms. Some love the adversarial;
confrontation and overpowering forced style of domination. As the above true story
illustrates, it can be hot and great fun. Adding it into the master-slave relationship as
role-play is common, rarely though, is it permanently part of a long-term master’s
structure. For some, being forced is the extent of their involvement in the lifestyle and it
is just their form of good kinky sex. Vanilla folk and those first coming to the lifestyle,
often hold belief, even in modern consensual slave relationships, that slaves are forced to
obey their master. For some that is wildly erotic, for others a disgusting link to historical
coerced slavery. Many perceive obedience as a lack of freedom and harsh consequences
needed to attain it. Consequence in this sense, forces her to submit to her master’s will.
But, that is not true for consensual slaves today, in relationships intended to endure.
A profound difference exists for those choosing consensual slavery. Today a slave
obeys, not from oppressive power, lack of freedom, or harsh consequences, but because
she feels the absolute need to obey in her soul. She does not want to lead. Consenting
obedience is the slave’s lifeblood. It makes her happy. Obedience is her joy and peace.
Your mastery, absolutely must give her a continuing opportunity to fulfill this need.
Understanding, believing and acting on this need, is to understand her mind and must be
the basis for your structure.

SODS - Direction

Another of the critical components comprising a slave’s mindset is the need for
direction in her life. Whether she realizes it or not, it is a core need of consensual
slavery. Masters as habit, must be able to give clear direction to their slaves, providing
an easily understood path. Masters in career management positions already understand
that leadership represents establishing guidance, direction, goals, rules, and clear specific
intent. You practice this everyday in the workplace and no less discipline is required
with your slave. It will take focus and work attending to the detail of your direction
provided to her. Direction for her is an integral, and often defining condition of her
submission, and managing that takes hard work, self-discipline and intelligence. You
must create that environment for the slave. Well thought out rules and commands,
creatively and logically presented are a pre-requisite for mastery to endure.
Implementing them to provide the direction she needs is critical. No slave can flourish if
she is uncertain of the path you tread, or confused by your commands. She is with you,
not because she is incapable, but because she respects and trusts your path. As your
need is to lead, hers is to follow. Mentioned often enough, but worth repeating, mastery
is not for the lazy, or unintelligent.
Giving direction reflects your personality, motivation to mastery and style. She
needs specific clear orders to follow and you need to be clear in giving those orders. Yet
that raises a critical day-to-day dilemma facing many new in the lifestyle. Explicit
 orders can lead to a micro-management style of mastery that often, over time, becomes
oppressive and boring to the master, if not the slave. No master wants to spell out every
order with contingencies indexed, variables cross-referenced, and a bibliography only to
have it notarized by the Devil himself. Over time, the slave needs to learn her
master well enough to understand the difference between an explicit command and the
spirit of it. She needs to embrace his protocols to frame her responses and interactions.
“Bring me a cup of coffee please, pet.”
“Yes Master.”
That simple order provides direction and structure, and has specific and implied
intent. It represents a routine everyday command. The specific intent is obvious.
Master wants a cup of coffee. The implied intent is how he wants it served. That
direction, or protocol if you will, was previously taught to his slave.
The slave will bring the coffee because she obeys without hesitation, a core slave
need. From past lessons, she knows he likes it served hot, with cream and his favorite
mug is blue. She does not need all those conditions spelled out every time he asks for a
coffee. Otherwise, he can conclude she is not genuinely interested in serving his needs
of bringing happiness, comfort and pleasure. He relies on her intelligence to make life
easier for him. She knows the protocol. It is too laborious otherwise and assumes she is
not capable of understanding protocols and obeying the real intent of the order. She of
course, is none of that, so obeys, understanding the spirit and specific intent of the
command.
So, while clear direction is an absolute for a slave to thrive in service, it is built on
and layered. She had received instruction how to serve a coffee earlier, which now
becomes a protocol and a simpler more functional command is all that is necessary to
achieve his goal. He has built a protocol and simplicity into his structure to keep
management of her easy. Time, effort, patience and thought by the master led to her
being able to obey direction without bogging the process with legalese, articles of
agreement and avadavat for each and every order given. Giving her direction is giving
her orders.
Then there are un-layered orders. There is obedience to a specific command, and
there is obedience to the spirit of a command. If the slave messes up because of clarity,
that is one thing and filed under shit happens. The master needs to make a note to be
clearer with his orders, or perhaps provide her a lesson on “he said, she heard”. That is
simply accomplished. Making her repeat each command back, before execution, works
effectively to overcome her earwax. If however, an order might not be specific enough,
but the intent, or spirit is obvious, both by its nature and knowing her master well, then
failure to complete the task, is flat out disobedience and requires the punishment regimen
be used.
A slave needs direction that is true, but she has responsibilities for cognitive thought
when processing given direction. Do not allow her to play footloose and fancy-free with
your orders. She has a brain, she better use it.
That she receives consistent and purposeful direction is a core need of her slavery.
Masters that understand this have begun to appreciate the slave mindset. How she
receives direction however, is wholly the master’s responsibility. It earmarks his
mastery style. Problems arise when masters do not have any direction to give her. That
sadly, is too often the case.
It does not take much thought, or creativity, to issue orders telling people what to do.
Many practice an unhealthy domineering, pushy, bully style in BDSM relationships. By
observation, it is usually the style of the lazy, not too bright, or immature. The
domineering approach is not mastery. It is not consistent enough. Inconsistency results
in turmoil for slaves, as it does for any group trying to obey. Today’s whimsical smash
mouth order, contradicts yesterday’s, and undermines tomorrows. The result is chaos,
confining her ability to obey regardless of how motivated and dedicated she is. The
result is usually a short-lived relationship; with the master complaining she is not a slave,
and she complaining he just wants a whipping toy and a blowjob.
“Caring Consistent Commands” – the three C’s of Direction.

SODS - Structure

One of the most confused and misunderstood issues in the BDSM lifestyle is the
misuse of the words ‘Discipline’, ‘Training’, ‘Teaching’, ‘Punishment’, ‘Obedience’,
“Ritual" and “Protocol. They are often used interchangeably and carelessly, creating a
quagmire of acrimonious banter among those who should know better. Why it is so is
not important, but clearing the water is. That all the concepts represented in those words
are present in a slave’s life, requires we be clear of their meanings and roles.
In the master-slave context, the word “discipline” is essentially synonymous with
“structure”. While the word has several dictionary meanings, using it as the word
structure is the one most useful to us.
Discipline is structure.
Structure is formed from rules, rituals and protocols that define and encompass the
extent of the Three Powers . The Three Powers are control of her Body, Behavior and
Attitude.
Teaching is delivering knowledge to another without consequence affecting the
teacher to any measure of importance. A teacher teaches students, but the student’s
performance does not significantly affect the teacher. By this definition, we do not teach,
because a slave’s performance does affect the master.
 Training is imparting knowledge, or skill where consequence can be applied.
Consequence for both the trainer and trainee. That is what we do with slaves .
Technically, we train because there are consequences after acquisition of skills.
Training forms structure and structure is discipline.
Obedience is the expected behavior after training is complete, but never before. A
slave cannot obey what has not been taught. Only foolish masters assume she knows
what he wants, (as if by magic sometimes, judging by some of their thinking) and
punishes for mistakes, when he failed to teach through disinterest, or laziness.
Punishment is a consequence for disobedience and part of the whole structure
concept, but is not, in and of itself, discipline. That confusion is rampant in the lifestyle
now, and reflects poor work done by our community teaching the art of mastery.
For purposes of understanding the slave’s mind, a master learns and accepts that
discipline is a fundamental core need for her. She needs to know structure exists, what
expectations he has vis-à-vis the Three Powers; and that discipline is applied
consistently, in a healthy way, to enrich both of them in fulfillment of their needs.
Referred to throughout this niche are ways to make her ‘feel her submission’. That
really means her master’s behavior ensures she is constantly aware structure exists. It is
a critical aspect to understanding her needs and mind.
She must have the discipline to obey. He must have the discipline to enforce.
She loves to obey. He gives her the tools to obey.
She has no desire to top, control, engage in brat behavior, or deliberately disobey to
garner attention. He consistently provides the structure to maintain calm tranquility in
the home.

“Kneel down girl.”

She knew from his tone a relaxed kneel was inappropriate, and she gracefully knelt
to her formal kneeling position.
He nodded approval and paced around her silently. Finally he picked up the wooden
box and opened it showing her the contents.
“Do you know what these are slavegirl?”
“Yes Master, they are your Punishment Tags.”
“Right pet, and I have them out because I am deeply disappointed in your behavior.”
She shivered.
“You ignored the rule and caused us stress. I could ignore that pet and pretend it
 never happened, or dismiss it as not very important. Both of those actions would be
dishonest. If I took either of those paths, I would be sending you the wrong message,
that my rules do not mean anything. The choices we made to this lifestyle and the
commitments to each other would be a sham. If I just let this pass, I disrespect and hold
in contempt the need for structure in your life. You may as well be a vanilla wife and
stop pretending you are a slave. And if I ignore your disobedience, you can also stop
calling me Master, because I am not one.”
He paused. The goose bumps on her arms told how deeply she was hearing his
words.
“Tell me what you feel about Punishment Tags slavegirl.”
“What I feel about them Master?”
“Yes. I have used them on you before when you disobeyed. You know what is
coming. How do they make you feel?”
She thought for a moment remembering the humiliation she felt wearing them in
front of friends. She remembered the humiliation changing in the two long hours she
was displayed.
“Master I think I hate them and love them.”
“Explain girl.”
“Well Sir, I hate wearing them because they represent my disservice. And I really
hate wearing them in front of friends. That I shamed you by being disobedient and it
was there for all to see, at first embarrassed me, but that soon changed to feeling
humiliated. Not at having to wear them, but because I was mortified and shamed in
having put you in the position to have to use them. It was not my public exposure of
disobedience, it was imposing on you to have to punish me; and that my
behavior reflected so badly on you.”
This girl knew her stuff. He nodded.
“Go on pet.”
“Yes Sir. I also love them. I love them because they show me you care and that is
all your slave needs Sir. You care enough about us to do something I know you dislike,
just to ensure your structure remains un-breached, knowing I need that. I love them
because they symbolize the sacrifice you will make for us. That commitment is why I will
always remain yours.”
And that is what a slave needs! She needs to have structure, knows it always exists,
and can be tangibly felt it in her heart. It goes to her soul, enabling her to submit and be
happy in whom she is. In doing so, she pleases her master. That is synergy at its best.
 Slavery is a calling. It is challenging and demanding. It is not for everyone. Not
everyone is able to be a stonemason, doctor, or professional athlete either. A slave’s
discipline and dedication must continually be in the forefront of her mind. She will
make sacrifice, be inconvenienced, will work hard and endure for her master. She wants
that, needs it. It is who she is, making no less of a sacrifice than anyone committed to
their calling. The discipline is her need and it is the master’s responsibility to fulfill the
need as she meets his. It is not a want, or fantasy, a wish, or fetish. It is a need and all
successful relationships are about mutual need fulfillment. That her slavery corresponds
to her master’s need to guide and control power is what makes the magic. Your mastery
must give her that framework. Watch her constantly and be relentless in applying your
structure, until it is habit for her.
Many have commented over the years how effortless the practice of mastery is for
me. It just flows and I appear to give it little specific attention. People perceive it as
very natural. The compliment is flattering and appreciated, but it was not always so.
The discipline of mastery became habit through the course of years spent in refining it.
Indeed, I rarely think of it anymore, instead just do it naturally, from habit. I do not seek
out, or think about if her behavior is appropriate, or if she is subliminally topping me, or
exhibiting an unbecoming attitude. I just see it instantly and deal with it, without a
second thought to vanilla influences, or methods. That is the product of an unwavering
trust and belief in her slave mind. She needs structure and I accept that unconditionally,
unchallenged, etched in stone. That I understand and accept the slave mind for its
difference is what makes it work. That is the goal of all masters. Make your rules and
then enforce them. She will thank you forever. Mastery is an art form, and the slave’s
mind is your paint.

The Fifth Element

Mentioned at the start, was an optional fifth element of the slave mindset. Now, stop
guessing that her love of being your personal slut, or her lust crazed need for your
sadism, is it. She might well love being your sex toy and pain-puppy, but that is style
and personal choice, not a universal characteristic of the slave mind.
The fifth element is simply, that if her master will not recognize the first four
elements of her slave mind, believe in them, and consistently fulfill the needs embodied
in the SODS Principle, as a path to his own happiness, then the slave needs to be
selfish,. That is the fifth trait, selfishness. Selfishness serves her well in this case and she
is entitled to it. Once again, relationships are about mutual need fulfillment and if the
master refuses, or cannot meet the slaves needs, by failing to embrace her uniqueness,
then she needs a new master, or a first one, depending on your point of view.
 Doormat

Her mouth hung open, then she uttered a patronizing laugh. They were dating,
learning each other, and exploring the dynamic of master-slavery. Trust was not
complete, ownership still in the distance. But, she was confused.
“So let me get this straight Sir. As your slave, I do not get a vote; my limits are open
season; I don’t have to be listened to; you are my superior, we are not equal partners; I
cannot disobey; I don’t have a gift, in fact you do not have to even appreciate my
submission; I cannot negotiate with you and to top it all off if I don’t love you anymore I
cannot leave. Did I get that about right – SIR?
“Well, when you put it like that”, I paused and smiled, “but yes you got it about
right.”
“With all due respect, you want a fucking doormat! SIR!”
This time I did not smile. Leaning across the table I looked into her eyes. I had
taken all the shit I was going to from this girl.
“Laura, whether you get it or not, is ultimately no skin off my ass. But stop diddling
yourself with unreal fantasy notions of what slavery is. Enough of your kinky dreams of
being tied up force fucked, and always escaping at the end because you really do not
want to submit. If that is all this is, then happy hunting.”
She started to interrupt.
“Pet I am not finished. I extended you the respect to speak without interruption,
please offer me the same courtesy. I am going to explain this once more. If you get it
and can open your mind that there are other valid perspectives besides yours, and
tolerate them with the respect accorded you, and can stop being steered by nonsensical
BDSM populist rhetoric, then great. If not, well good luck, but I have had all the
attitude I am going to take from you. Hoity-toity pseudo-intelligensia from close-minded
positions of ignorance do not impress me.”
“Now are you genuinely confused and want to understand, or do you prefer to go
with your understanding as is, and I am wasting my time? Take a moment to consider
your answer.”
The fuse was burning. She was not used to being talked to like this, and combined
with thinking she might be considered a doormat slave by others, made her angry. She
was an attorney, no dummy by any means, and managed all aspects of her life well. Yet,
she was sitting here discussing her submissive needs, and in her eyes I could see they
were real.
“Please explain”, she said, barely reigning in her emotion.
 The missing “Sir” was duly noted.
“Goodgirl, I was hoping you would say that. You have a cute ass you know. It
would be a shame to paint it vanilla.”
The tension was broken and she smiled.
“First off pet, what you described is indeed the way noisemakers in the
BDSM community love to portray TPE slaves. The proverbial doormat. Many have a
vested interest in denigrating that niche of slave, because often the master-types cannot
really manage power, and the subbly-types do not really give it. So they perform some
cleansing act of self-validation by running off at the mouth, putting down those who
actually accept and enjoy this part of their personality. They see only enough to validate
their niche. You are doing the same by vociferously pointing out “No vote”; “No
limits”; “Not listened to”; “Master superiority”; “No equal partnership”; “Cannot be a
brat”; “No pedestal for your ‘gift’ and not appreciating it”; “Negotiation forbidden”;
and heaven forbid you “Honor commitments” as the quintessential definition of
doormat.
“Now hold onto your nipples slavegirl, because this is going to get rough, but in
no uncertain terms I am going to let you watch as I lay out the Doormat Welcome Mat.
Sit tight girl, here we go.”
She just sat listening. They really liked each other, but she was having a lot of
trouble with this.
“First off pet, you say no vote means you are a doormat. So what are you going to
vote on? Areas you have surrendered control? That makes no sense. You have not
really given control if you want a vote in areas you gave me. You are a lawyer, you
understand consent is binding until revoked, tacitly, or explicitly. Are you saying your
need to vote is revoking consent? When? Sometimes? All the time? How will I know to
call a vote when I want to use you? That is not submission, that is a game. I don’t
play that game. You can if you want, but not with me.”
“You either trust I take my commitments to you seriously, faithfully, or you do not.
You ultimately believe in that trust and submit, or you do not. Partial trust is what you
are expressing in the desire to vote, and that is not ultimately very conducive to the path
I want to travel. It means you control. Do you seriously want that?”
I held up my hand, but she knew it was a rhetorical question.
“When you are not my footstool, table, chair, laying out my clothes, researching
income properties, analyzing investments, sucking my cock, flying on endorphins with a
blistered ass, or moaning when taken to the edge, but denied that orgasm you are
crying for, then you are my Florida Presidential election hanging chad ballot. Your
opinion is noted, but your vote does not count. You too can be Gored.”
 “Your life in slavery is no different than your career as a lawyer. I will listen to you,
seek your counsel, ask advice, demand opinions, draw on your talents, use your skills,
and expect a high degree of intelligence from your communication. But like your clients,
it is ultimately my decision. You do as instructed. Your vote is neither solicited, nor
enfranchised.”
And you do not want a vote pet, not if you are who I think you are. Whatever the
scope of control we decide, you do not want, or need a vote within it. Stop processing
your slave needs with vanilla values. It does not work. You could be President of the
United States, the most powerful woman on earth, yet still answer to your master. Come
to think of it, the Clinton’s may have beaten you to that, though that was a female
dominant and male submissive gig.
I paused to sip the coffee and let her digest this for a moment. She was listening and
thinking.
“Next, you assert you are a doormat because your limits are open season. We have
already discussed this. You are mixing terms again. Your boundaries are not open
season, we agree ‘illegal’, ‘age-play’ and ‘scat’ are out. Neither of us have interest.
Limits, are your hesitancies, difficult areas, statements of your state of mind in the here
and now. Yes, those are open season. And what are my commitments to you? To keep
you safe, while growing. There is no timetable but the road leads there.” You can
follow my road, but you cannot pick it. Trust, or don’t.”
“You say as a slave you are concerned you are not listened to, but what I am
hearing, is the vote issue again. You know the “Twenty-four Hour Rule” that ensures
you always have a voice, and are heard. You have rock solid channels of
communication always open. I have already taught them to you. I may make decisions
that are as dumb as a tomato sometimes, but I am not stupid pet. I want your opinions
and want to hear you. My slave is my life partner, of course I want to hear you, the good
and the warts. It is that intimacy we build that I treasure. So that is not an issue, but
you still do not get a vote in this relationship, missy-doormat.”
“Next you are concerned about this concept of my holding a superior position and a
equal partnership does not exist. They are similar issues, but different, and let’s talk
about the equal partners first. We are equal in the eyes of the law and society. We are
partners, but not in the conventional sense of vanilla perspective. Think of our
partnership in terms of a car and its motor oil. You are the oil-babe, I am the sleek steel
blue Jaguar.”
She finally laughed.
“Without each other, we are useless. I can flash my lights and make noise, but I
can’t go anywhere without you. And without my engine you can only go up in smoke.
Together in a partnership though, the car with oil travels the road of its choosing. It
selects the path, the oil heats up, gets turned on, feels alive, contributes enormously to
 the success of the journey, and follows. They are indeed equal partners, one enabling
the other by contribution, but performing very different tasks.”
“Now as your master, should I not be superior? What is wrong with that? Once
again too many try to process master-slave couplings in vanilla terms and values. It
cannot be done and understood, it distorts the reality. The master has a superior
position in her life, so why not call it what it is? He enables her submission and controls
her for cripes sake, why is that so hard to grasp? I know and do not care that is a
politically incorrect statement, but my relationship with you is not validated by
popularity contests. You and I validate it. We do not need liberal social reformers
meddling in our affairs.”
“There seems to be some distorted logic floating in the lifestyle implying that
because he is superior she is less capable, less intelligent, less everything, which is utter
hogwash. I think no less of you because your personal needs are met in slavery, than the
craters on the moon have cheese. In fact, I know you have skills and capabilities greater
than me, and rather than be threatened, or nullified by them, they are treasured and
made useful to enrich us both. Superior slave skills do not empower you, or make you
superior. In fact, many slaves with superior skills relish their ability to contribute
positively to their master’s life, bringing contributions he might otherwise be denied.
Could a female doctor submit to a male carpenter? Why not? It works for me.”
“Too many think master superiority implies her contributions of service are of little,
or less importance and value, which is astoundingly myopic thinking. The litmus test for
a slave is asking herself if she would submit to someone she did not consider superior to
her. Would she allow it? I am not talking about intelligence, or wealth superiority; I
mean the alpha dominant person. She must submit to that personality, or she is it. The
last I checked no slave wants to be the alpha in her relationship.”
“Now of course, you will hear lots of dissent to this opinion within the
BDSM community, but 97% of those folk do not have the needs of you and I and many of
those will gab your ear off that you are a doormat. They fail to understand superiority
of one does not make inferiority of the other. I would love to see them make that
argument to the Vice Chairman of General Motors. Is he inferior because he is not
Chairman?”
“Your next point was that I must want a doormat, because I forbid giving you the
choice to willfully disobey. Is that right?”
She nodded.
“Well I am hearing two things. The vote issue rearing its ugly head again,
deliberate disobedience being an expression of control, and I am hearing a
communication issue.”
“I suspect, what motivates you to want slavery is the structure and freedom to be
who you are, a strong, vibrant woman, yet at the same time, in your heart, answering to
your alpha master and all that entails. It makes you purr.”
She nodded again.
“Slaves do not want to disobey and never deliberately do. I see that in you, the core
need to please. Your being riled earlier was partly fear. Fear you will disobey and not
please and that scared you. But that is disobedience by error, or inattention, not by
deliberate choice. You do not want to disobey because that is part of your need.
Coercion, threat, or force are not as effective as direction and structure for you. That is
where you will flourish.”
“Now I said earlier communication was heard too, and oftentimes deliberate
disobedience is a call for attention. Usually it manifests itself by a slave becoming a
brat, is often just insecurity, or a symptom of needs not being met. I do not like brats,
nor do I tolerate that behavior in my slave. I do not see that in you. You have channels
of communication open, you do not need to be a brat, and I do not need the
impertinence. Let your personality show by engaging in intelligent repartee. That isn’t
being a brat, that is living and fun.”
“You also expressed a common thought among those denigrating TPE slaves as
doormats, that they consider their submission a gift, and their shit don’t stink and a
master like me does not appreciate their submission. Well, the last part is true I do not
appreciate their submission. However their shit does stink and their submission is a gift
all right, the one they take back, the minute they do not like something. No gift I have
ever given came with an expectation of its return. It was a gift, not a loan.”
“Should I appreciate your submission and consider it a gift? Do you really want me
to? Is it not more important I appreciate particular acts of service than this nebulous
‘whole submission’ thing?”
“When I see a professional baseball player playing second base, standing in the field
doing nothing, I recognize, but do not appreciate, that he can stand there. It is when he
makes a great play, I appreciate the skill and dedication he has shown and I applaud, I
show appreciation. He has provided a service to me, in this case of entertainment value,
and I appreciate that contribution to my life.”
“He recognizes himself as a baseball player and makes plays because that is who he
is, a choice he has made for his own happiness, and thus makes great plays because of
that reason alone. He made his choice, was enabled and given the opportunity by the
team, then, by contribution, was appreciated. The team did not appreciate him just
because they gave him an opportunity. They did not appreciate him because he has the
talent, or made a choice to be a baseball player. They appreciate what he contributes to
the team.”
“So it is with the slave. Your choice is not appreciated, your contributions are. You
 are a slave, enabled by your master and have made a commitment to that calling. It is
your place, your duty and your happiness. I can give you the opportunity to submit and
do so in a healthy, vibrant and responsible environment, in return for your service.
Appreciation of your choice has nothing to do with it though. Honoring commitments to
enable each other is what does matter. You will serve. I will often extend courteous,
genuine appreciation to you, but it is not your inalienable right. You are not my
equal regarding our intercourse.”
“You can however be my Geisha tonight, which is another calling with honor.”
She laughed and if I pressed it, she would be serving sake within the hour, but I
wasn’t finished yet.
“Now pet, your infamous doormat concerns also include that you cannot negotiate
with me. So again, I ask what do you want to negotiate? My vision, my moral code, the
commitments and responsibilities to you, my rules, protocols and rituals, just what is it?
What is it, that is so important?”
“I have already done something for you I venture to say, no one has ever done
before. I have laid out how I live, told you who I am in detail. I have explained my
understanding and philosophies of this lifestyle; how it is lived and the extent of the
Three Powers I want and that make me happy. I have insisted you can and must
communicate with me and set that in motion. I want your feelings, thoughts and
opinions. I have told you how money issues will be handled, conflicts resolved, the
privacy I insist on, how we will handle and interact with your family, your career and
health. I believe in all the methods to deal with every one of those and other issues.
Collectively my vision and subsequent structure, values and positions work together and
make me happy. Should I negotiate away my happiness, is that what you want?”
“A huge part of my happiness is knowing my structure for a slave works and is
healthy. All you have to do is buy into it with eyes wide open, or do not buy into it.
There is nothing I am not comfortable and confident in. My slave is important enough to
me, that I have invested the time and dedication to know this lifestyle as an engineer
knows how to build bridges, a doctor practices medicine, or a lawyer knows the law. I
know the master-slave lifestyle.”
“So what is there to negotiate? I will listen for improvements and welcome that
input, but I will not alter my values, or negotiate away the structure I believe in that
makes me happy, just to own you. Come to me pet, ask, inquire and probe. There is only
one thing I will not ask of you, nor permit you to ask of me.”
“Negotiating is settling. I do not want you settling for me as your master and I will
never negotiate with a slave, be it you, or another.”
“The last characteristic of this horrible doormat you described and fear becoming is
you cannot leave, even if you do not love me anymore. Pet, if you do not want to be my
 slave at anytime in the future, then leave. I do not want you if you do not want to be
here. This is voluntary slavery and as much as the thought of your cute ass chained to
my bed forever is enticing, you are free with the legal and financial means to leave at
anytime.”
“But, understand something please. Love is but one element of our relationship.
Certainly it is something we both want and nurture development of, but is it essential?
Only you can answer that. In doing so, consider this. Is love and your comfort; and
make no mistake please, but love is emotional comfort; more important than your word
to a commitment?”
“This is an uncomfortable subject for a lot of people because we live in a culture that
teaches selfish, me-first, self-absorbed values, proclaiming discomfort, sacrifice,
discontent and unpleasantness are intolerable, and no one should have to endure them.”
“You and I are products of that culture, we grew up in it and those values are hard
to isolate from the master-slave world we want. The minute any of those so-called
intolerable conditions affecting our comfort are raised, screams of abuse; unfair; dump
the bastard and leave, resound from all corners. Everyone succumbs to the instant
gratification, ‘comfort only’ mentality. But a slave has made no less a commitment to
her master, than he to her. A slave believes in her commitment to indenture. It is her
“Holy Grail”. She knows in advance, not everything will be to her liking and that may
affect her comfort, but she knelt and honors her commitments, even when she finds it
difficult. Her Holy Chalice stays intact as long as her master continues to fulfill his
commitments made on Ownership Day.”
“She is a slave, it is her calling, to be in service. Ultimately her comfort is not as
important as her word.”
I finally paused and sipped my drink.
“Ok pet, I’m done.
There was a long pause and we each took a sip of our drinks. Then she spoke.
“As long as I’m heard, and as long as you are listening, I’m good with that.”
I smiled.
“Goodgirl. I have always wanted to turn the tables and fuck the lawyer for a
change!”
The important aspect of the commonly misunderstood definition of doormat, as
preached about in the public forums of this lifestyle, is to understand the term
doormat, in fact, has very little to do with the degree of power in the master-
slave relationship. It is a term about the style of dominance practiced. Even when the
degree of submission is total, some masters will enable her talents, capabilities, skills,
 education and talent, both outside the home, as well as her master’s pleasure and
happiness inside the home; but some will not. To endure and make sure she feels
complete in life, he works to develop her trust in the knowledge that she is valued, heard
and respected. He enables all she can be to serve and meet her needs of self worth and
personal satisfaction. Yet, other masters will take that same total submission and
domineer it, minimizing her ability to serve, by not allowing her to develop and use
those skills and talents. The domineering master wants her subjugated, perhaps being
threatened by his slaves talent, or skill, perhaps because he suffers from deep seated
insecurity issues, or perhaps he has a god complex, whereby no one is as good as he.
Unfortunately, the domineering approach is all too prevalent and usually results in
turmoil, angst and a failure to meet needs.
Just remember, “doormat” is a description of a master’s dominating style, not about
power and the slave’s degree of submission, or talents. Doormat describes the master,
not the slave!

Proactive Slavery

Where is the line between positive proactive service, and having her doing your
thinking for you? Is there a line in your relationship, your style of mastery? Is there
such a thing as positive proactive service? Can a slave presume too much and demand
too much? Put another way, can a master over rely on a slave and be perceived as lazy?
Mastery demands these answers, your answers of course, your choice and style.
No one is judging, or can live your life. The questions though, will again, begin to frame
the style of mastery you want, and ultimately lead to relationship success or failure, as
you endeavor to live in the master-slave genre. These are excellent questions.
Said again, this lifestyle is not for the lazy, or unintelligent. That in itself is a whole
debate for another day, but assuming its truth, with energy and a modicum of sense, a
foundation is available to solve these issues and answer the questions.
One thing a master cannot be is lazy and in general terms, the issue of proactive
slavery comes up when he is. Often in the name of “I’m the master, so I can”, he
simply delegates, sometimes, in the process defaulting power back to her. If the slave is
doing all the housework, paying the bills and keeping the home flowing, while the
master is sitting on the couch doing nothing but untangling his whip, then it will not be
long before resentments build within the slave. Can you blame her? Is that what she
bought into, to do everything and make the minutiae decisions because he demands it?
Is that just not another mother in his life?
It need not just be laziness. Perhaps it is simply he does not have time for his
household because of work commitments, or is building a business. That is fair, it
happens, that is life, but is it consistent with master-slave living? It can be of course and
those circumstances are worked out between each couple. It can also represent that the
master’s outside interests demand too much of his time for effective slave
ownership. Regardless of the reason, when all decision-making reverts to the slave, the
master-slave dynamic suffers, unless awareness and precautions are built into the
structure.
Mastery is essentially about making decisions. The line then is delegating
responsibility while still maintaining management control of the slave and his
home. Accountability is the key, for his slave, but also self-accountability.
For the slave to know and feel control exists, regardless of tasks and responsibilities
assigned her, is her master having a proactive management style. In simpler words,
manage her tasks and do not assume the home runs automatically. Delegating tasks is
fine, but do not abrogate oversight of those responsibilities. All masters need acute
knowledge of the details required to run the home. Oversee her without excessive
micro-management. Let her skills work for you. Recognize her achievements and
contributions by rewarding and punishing. Be an active master in your oversight.
Problems arise when a master neglects those oversight responsibilities creating an
atmosphere where the slave feels she is the only one contributing not just to the house,
but the relationship too.
An oft seen example is delegating management of the household bills to the slave. It
is a reasonable command on the surface of it. However, if that is the extent of the
command, then if money is tight, likely down the road things will get rocky, especially if
managing money is not her strength.
Simply asking if the bills are paid is not quality management. The master must make
her accountable by including, as part of money management, a monthly sit down where
she explains the status of the accounts. Then there is the opportunity to address
problems and issues she encountered, and make the decisions necessary. She will
appreciate your involvement, especially when avoiding “You bounced a check,
slavegirl?” that permeates poor master management styles. That just creates the bully
mentality and mommy-slave issues. So being actively involved in managing her
obedience is an important part of your style.
What of situations where she takes initiative, ostensibly to improve your pleasure;
how is a master to react? When a slave takes a proactive initiative, or anticipates beyond
expectations, what is a master’s response? Surely the master must recognize and
appreciate her value, praise her work and the initiative. A simple "goodgirl, you are a
delight pet", often thrills her and is enough, at least initially. But, wise masters take it a
step farther.
It behooves him to think through and review her initiative, then assess where it fits in
his structure. He may require establishing a protocol, or permanent expectation and how
 he will manage the new initiative. Doing so is necessary to remain consistent because
she has taken the initiative, a good thing, but now it is dangling there. It is potentially an
unstructured behavior and masters abhor a slave going unfettered. So, review the
initiative, then teach her the new behavior expectations, and how you will manage those
expectations.
Too often though, what happens is the master writes off the initiative under “well,
she's the slave, I expect that anticipation”. If that is the extent of his caring to her
contribution, ugly things start to occur. If she perceives his contribution to her initiative
is a casual acknowledgement from the couch during a commercial break, then look out
buster, the TV remote batteries are going to be missing soon. Masters must contribute
and take initiative too.
The other, more destructive long term cause than mere laziness however, is poor
management skills. Casual recognition of a slave’s initiative, usually results from the
master’s lack of expertise in managing power, and he does not recognize what occurred.
Said previously, some dominants are suave at getting power, but cannot manage it
once the lust bloom fades in a few months. This is the real danger. Defaulting power
back to a slave because of inertia, or lack of knowledge is tantamount to master-
slave relationship suicide. Trust in her master grows from his ability, knowledge and
courage to lead and make decisions. Yet, how many masters have actually studied, or
made active attempts to learn management skills? Without those, the initiative and
proactive behavior the slave demonstrated in good faith, over time, take on their own
power, essentially transferring it back to her.
When a slave does the laundry, the bills, keeps the appointment book, looks after the
kids, works part-time, cleans the house, and empties master’s tubes while bent over the
staircase railing shaking out the hall rug, her master had best have some acute
management skills to accompany her effort and dedication.
The master’s solution is simple though. Intuition, observation and recognizing what
happens in his home are paramount. Then he can contribute as he chooses, while
ensuring the slave is recognized and rewarded and most importantly does not feel alone
in putting effort into the relationship. Once an atmosphere of mutual, though unique
contribution is established, a slam fuck and good beating makes everyone happy.

Mind Fuck #7 - "Predicament"

Sawdust filled the air when she entered to inform her master lunch was ready.
“OMG, how can you breathe in here?”
He turned and smiled from behind his dust mask.
 “You look like Pigpen and his cloud of dust, Master. Are you ready to tell me what
you are building yet?”
He pulled off the mask and work gloves. The workshop was a mess, but usually was
when he got to the sanding stage of a project. He loved building furniture. It was his
hobby and he had indulged himself over the years, accumulating all the tools and
machines.
“Let’s go inside, clean up and we’ll talk over lunch.”
They munched on their sandwiches.
“So, you want to know what this latest project is do you pet?”
“Well, I’ve seen it, but darned if I can figure it out.”
He chuckled.
“Maybe you don’t want to know girl. Maybe it is something that is going to help me
overcome some things I need to do with you.”
“Ut-oh, that sounds ominous. You know you have all of me, what more could I
possibly give?”
She was smiling, teasing, but she well knew there was an area he wanted to explore
that made her squirm and blush. She hoped the thoughts going through her head were
wrong.
He leaned over and grabbed her by the ponytail. She knew that signal.
“Pet, next Saturday, Wayne, Sylvia, Michael and Juliana are coming for dinner.
What I am building will be ready then. It will be sanded and stained and have a
prominent place in the living room. It won’t be there permanently mind you. Explaining
it when you parents visit is a boundary.”
He smirked, then smiled and let go of her hair. He knew a week to stew about her
near future would keep her stomach in knots, but would also serve to focus her slavery.
She was a shy woman. Twice now, she had been bare-breasted at private parties and had
been distraught, excessively so in his mind. For a girl just turned thirty she had
no reason to be modest. She had a beautiful body, yet was obsessed that it wasn’t as
perfect as she wanted. He had thought about how to overcome this for months. He
wanted her displayed, but for her to understand power and its relationship to her slavery.
He needed to do it in front of people that understood their master-slave dynamic and
could go along with his plan, but folks she respected and would be comfortable with in
her nudity. This was not the time to overload her senses. This was her big issue and he
didn’t want snags.
“Do you understand pet?”
 Her eyes were down but she nodded. He tilted her face up to look at her.
“You know who you are girl, I love you. You know that. Not everything is easy. Not
everything you will like. This is one of those times. I selected Wayne and Michael
because they understand the power of mastery. Saturday, you will understand better
too.”
“Yes sir, I will obey, I always do. It’s just so hard sometimes.”
“Who are you pet?”
“A slave.”
What do slaves do?”
“Serve their master.”
“And just exactly whose slave are you?
“Always yours Master.”
“And Saturday you will understand the strength of mastery and the relentless force
of slavery. Come here girl, give me a kiss.”
It was a long week for her, but Saturday arrived.
“You slaves outdid yourselves, that was a delicious meal.”
Wayne and Michael were in fine form. The banter over dinner was eclectic, light to
serious, global politics, to bawdy stories. Sylvia and Juliana were effervescent and
radiant as always. Everyone was enjoying themselves. Well, almost everyone. His
slave was impeccably behaved and he was proud of her, but she was quieter than usual.
That was not surprising; she had been since mid-morning when the chair had come into
the living room. It loomed against the wall spotlighted, like a silent gallows in her mind,
he was sure.
“We’ll have coffee in the living room please girls, and in about ten minutes if you
will all join us, the entertainment will begin. There is something I need to do first. Pet,
come with me please.”
The others carried on, enjoying the company, keeping everything light and normal.
It took the ten minutes to strip and get her in position. The new chair, if you could
call it that, was against the wall. The ropes were rigged to the buckets and all was
ready. She stood quietly, naked and waiting. She was doing well so far, but the nerves
were there. Perhaps the calm she displayed was resignation of being displayed, and the
peace on her face, the trust and submission she felt deeply. Regardless, he was pleased.
“Sit on the chair please girl.”
 The device he built was similar to his butterfly bondage chair. But this one had
no legs, just a cushioned backboard. She was effectively sitting on the floor, with her
back against the board, legs together, stretched straight in front. She obeyed and the
feminine look of slavery, sitting naked, with only leather on her wrists, ankles and neck
stirred him as it always did.
“Hands over your head pet.”
In seconds they were bound above her. Smiling he stroked her underarms.
“Good girl.”
Next came the ropes. One attached to each ankle cuff and threaded upwards and to
the side through the two eyebolts in the wall behind her. Dangling from the ropes, on the
other side of the eyebolts, were two five-gallon empty pails. She sat still. Her back
straight, arms bound, legs flat to the floor in front and eyes lowered. She looked
delightful, naked but still with modesty. Her thighs tightly together protected her
shyness. She looked beautiful and unexpectedly was very aroused. A blush glowed
across her face. Straddling her, he unzipped and used her mouth. Quickly it was over
and she was gulping for air. Knowing her mind and being used like this would not just
arouse her, but send her deep into submission. Leaning down, he wiped her lips letting
her suck them clean, then whispered.
“Good girl.” You are my slavegirl pet and I love you passionately. But tonight you
have a predicament. You are shy, yet you are a slave. You want your modesty, yet I own
your body. Tonight will be a test of which is stronger, your need for modesty, or your
need for slavery".
She moaned, closing her eyes, envisioning the difficulty that lay before her.
“Well, there is a beautiful sight.”
Wayne and Mike had come in seating themselves on the couch. The fire crackled in
the fireplace. Slaves brought in a tray of coffee and liqueurs, pouring and serving, then
knelt by their masters.
“Gentlemen, you’re right. That is a beautiful sight, a slave, bound and displayed, on
speech restriction, and immersed in obedience. I’m glad you came tonight and agreed to
help show my slave a tangible example of the strength of her need to serve, obey, and
thrive in slavery. She at times doubts herself. She has difficulty with the totality of her
commitmentto the lifestyle. She wants it, yet is overwhelmed at times. Sometimes, she
perceives what I ask as difficult, because she is still restricted by vanilla values instilled
in her, by society, and from her youth.”
“I know you all understand this struggle and have been through it yourselves. So,
tonight I want to give her a choice, that in making it will reveal to her, just how complete
her need for slavery is. I want her to experience an introspective look into her soul. I’m
going to use her shyness to illustrate that fighting slavery is to deny who she is; that she
will find peace in her soul when she understands her body and that among other things,
is not hers to control.
You have known us for many years, you know how modest she is and in overcoming
it, she can take comfort that her commitments to me are understood and appreciated by
you who get this lifestyle too.”
He turned to his slave.
“Pet, tonight will be a simple task for you. You have a choice to make and
whichever one you choose is the right one. I will support it and respect it for eternity.
You are shy, modest and you prefer not to be naked in front of other people. You have a
beautiful body, yet seek to keep it private, not share your beauty and bring pleasure to
those seeing it. That you are now bound and bare breasted is difficult, I know. But your
legs are together and at least you have some protection from prying eyes.”
“Tonight is simple. You can sit as you are with your legs together, or you can open
them and pull your knees up and out as far as they will go. If you do, of course, your
cunt will open and be on display, to Wayne, Michael, Sylvia, Juliana and me. We will
know and see that you are wet and aroused. They will see you up close and inspect you.
Your anus will be exposed and they will see you have been well used there too. You will
have no modesty left.”
“But pet, you do not have to raise your legs. You are free to keep them closed if you
wish and in doing so, you will not disappoint me. The only decision for you is to
understand which is stronger, your need for modesty, or your need for slavery. The
choice to open, or keep your legs closed will not affect your being my slave. The simple
difference is how you will feel in your submission and how deep is this need for you. Do
you understand girl?”
Her voice was very quiet her but answer was heard.
“Yes Sir.”
“Pardon.”
“Yes Master.”
“Goodgirl. Well, to challenge you a little, I’m going to add some difficulty for you.
Girls, bring in the water please.”
Sylvia and Juliana returned, each carrying a large bucket of water.
“Fill the pails to the first mark please.”
Filling each pail about a third full, the ropes tied to her ankles went taut. It would
take effort now to hold her legs closed. He smiled, turned away and sat, now ignoring
 his slave and carrying on as if nothing was unusual. Wayne and Michael knew
beforehand the drill and understood the need for normalcy, so misdirection began.
“Hey, I saw an ad the other day for golf specials to Myrtle Beach next month. They
were throwing in carts and green fees if you booked a week, and it was cheaper than two
games here at the new course.”
And so, the conversation went on for thirty minutes. Out of the corner of his eye, he
kept watch on his slave. Her legs were as tight together as ever.
“Girls, we need more coffee and bring in another bottle of brandy. It seems to be the
drink of choice tonight. And while you are there, bring more water please.”
The slave’s eyes were as closed as her legs. The gentlemen looked at each other.
Knowing what was happening they smiled.
“Fill the pails to the second mark please.”
The strain on his slave’s face was immediate, feeling the extra weight pull on her
ankles. But her legs stayed together. Coffees refilled, the golf talk resumed. That
Sylvia and Juliana did not play golf was of no concern. Everyone laughed at their
suggestions of golf by day, flog by night, a perfect all-inclusive vacation. None of that
mattered to the slave struggling with the pails though. Beads of perspiration dotted her
forehead as she squirmed to keep her legs together. Her master doubted she heard a
word of the conversation. It was a shame too, because she liked golf.
“Juliana, please throw another log on the fire and Sylvia, would you please pinch
and pull my slave’s nipples. I’m not sure she is still with us, or has been listening."
“GIRL! Get yourself over here right now” roared Wayne.
“He said pinch and pull, not kiss and suck”, and he gave her a mighty swat on the
ass.
“Oops, sorry Master, they were just so cute.”
Everyone laughed, well except his slave, whose thighs were trembling now,
struggling against the inevitable force that would pull them apart.
“While you girls are up getting drinks, fill the pails to the top please.
The added weight tipped the scale and in a flash her thighs parted. The ropes pulled
her ankles wide and upward. Suddenly she was wantonly displayed, her privacy gone.
A tear came down her cheek.
The others looked at her master for direction in this awkward moment.
“Leave her be”, he said.
“She is learning that who she is cannot be denied. There never was a choice for
her. She is owned, a slave. She gives everything of herself. Enjoy her please. You are
looking at a woman who is free to be who she is. She has learned that this was
inevitable, the forces that identify her, too great to be denied, in the face of ownership
she trusts. Even her shyness is not strong enough to overcome the need to be open and
free in that honesty. Her worth is not in what is now displayed to us. Why she is mine
and always will be is the beauty of her soul. She accepts and is comfortable in the
paradox of slavery. On Monday she will save lives at her job and contribute to this
world. Tonight, she accepts she has no secrets and no need for secrets, because she is
safe.”
There was silence in the room. Her tears had stopped. She heard every word and
understood.
It was much later, in bed, when she spoke.
“Master, that was hard tonight. But, it wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be. And
you know something?”
He looked over at her, snuggled warmly in his arms.
“What’s that, pet?”
“I think you created a monster. I actually got really hot when my legs came apart. I
didn’t expect that. I think you have a little exhibitionist on your hands now.”
He chuckled and smiled.
“Is that a dare?”
“Oops, not at all. But, you know what else? I really hope you let Sylvia suck my
nipples again. That was hot!”
And so, the journey continued, the growth real and the love re-affirmed. It is hard
for vanilla folk to understand the intimacy of the master-slave world.
 Chapter IX - Collaring

Collaring - Ownership Styles & Collaring

She descended the stairs to the living room, an apparition in white. The robe flowed
from her neck to ankles, loose in billowing folds around her. There were no sleeves,
exposing the sides of her breasts as she passed by. A hint of her bottom teased through
the translucent material. Gathered at the waist, it was cinched tight with a thick gold
rope. Long dark curls topped her head, sprinkled with fine white flowers.
Jonathan and a slave led her into the room. He was Michael’s best friend and
Melanie, best friend to the slave. Each pulled on a leash of simple rope looped about her
neck. They stopped just inside the room. As Master of Ceremonies, Wayne presided.
He would keep everything on track, but it was clear that control of the room belonged to
Michael. He was the Master taking this slave as his own, so special privileges were
accorded him this day. He arranged everything and choreographed it all. Managing
details from the guest list, to each person’s position, he assigned duties as he saw fit.
Taking a slave into ownership was a special time in Wayne’s group. In recognition,
many regular rules were suspended. It was in fact, the only time all who were present,
Masters and slaves alike, answered to the new Master, today that being Michael. It was
a daylong event and Michael controlled every aspect. All answered to him prior to the
ceremony, except his new-slave-to-be and her attendants, but they were unseen anyway.
There had been much good-natured bantering among the Masters that morning.
Michael ribbed and joked that the others were now his bitches until the ceremony, and he
could do what he wanted to them. Laughter abounded and while technically true and the
Masters would have obeyed him, nothing much was ever demanded, except addressing
Michael as ‘Sir’. But, even that was not odd, as they often referred to each other as such.
There was a reason for the subordination of masters to one of their own on this
special day, of course. There was always a reason in Wayne’s group and they always
made sense. Masters answered to Michael and have their slaves obey him, without
reservation, a token symbol of how important a step he was taking. These men did not
submit to anyone at other times, it was just not in their nature. But, they did this day, a
gesture of respect. It was recognition of how seriously they took the work he had put in
getting to this day and the permanent commitment being made to his slave. These men
did not like submitting. They only did as their tribute to one of their own, and to impress
upon him they would not be doing this again, assuming he would never have the need to
collar again.
 It was the one time too, that Michael had unfettered use of the other master’s slaves.
They answered to him. Their owners would not interfere with any command given.
This too, was a real gesture of the trust and faith they had in Michael’s grasp of mastery.
That morning in fact, Michael had taken advantage of the privilege extended him, and
bound four naked slaves together, face to face and whipped them. It had been wonderful
to watch.
Only once, a few years later, did I ever see another master’s slave used sexually prior
to collaring on an Ownership Ceremony day. Later we came to find out, it had been set
up in advance, by both the slave’s master and the new master-to-be, as a step in the
growth of the slave. Her master had her fucked by another in front of the group, shared
for the first time. That may sound cold and abusive, taking advantage of a situation to
force her into an area she did not want to go, in fact though, it was anything but. Her
master had prepared her for some time. When she was collared years before, she
understood and accepted this day would come. Her master saw that collaring day as a
perfect opportunity to take the step he wanted and re-enforce in her mind who she was, a
slave, submitted unconditionally. She knew her slavery, while tough sometimes, she
was always loved, treasured and safe, but always a slave. That it worked beautifully was
a testament to good mastery.
The room for Michaels taking of his slave was solemn, lit only by candles.
Masters were in full leathers, as was the custom. All slaves were dressed in the
group red slave-smocks, only broken out of storage for these special collaring days.
They were simple pull over dresses, split from shoulder to hem on each side and fastened
together at the waist by a matching red rope. They were naked underneath, as was the
new slave in her white robe, a symbolic reminder of their own collaring day and a subtle
welcoming bond to the new slave, in recognition of the commitment she was making.
A circle of candles in the middle of the room and a single spotlight above was the
only illumination. Masters stood on the periphery in darkness, silently ringing the
ceremonial circle, their slaves kneeling on cushions in front. They were in a relaxed
kneel until the arrival of the slave party, immediately then rising to their formal position.
Only Michael, Wayne and a small dais to the left were inside the circle. You could hear
a pin drop as Jonathan halted at the door with the slave.
“Jonathan, why are you here?” asked Wayne, and the ceremony began.
“I have a woman here who says she is prepared to offer her life into service,” he
responded.
“Very well, bring her forward.”
Writing this so many years later, it seems now almost corny, stilted and steeped in
artificial ritual, but that is reflective of poor writing skills. It was none of that. The
intensity, solemnity and maturity of the moment were acute, and I still feel privileged
having witnessed it. These were not twenty-year-old kids making rash decisions. They
 were mature, thoughtful, middle-aged adults, with many responsibilities in life. It was
not like any vanilla wedding I have ever witnessed At times, I it was unclear if a hard-
on, or heart attack, was more appropriate, knowing the commitments and emotion on
display were so intensely real. Perhaps, it was knowing the hard work done by Michael
and Juliana, perhaps it was knowing this was not a game for them. Maybe it was the
romance of the moment, but the details and commitments spoken of were truly a joining
of unique souls.
Jonathan took both leashes and the attending slave retired to kneel on her pillow
with the others. Jonathan brought the slave forward and unleashed her, leaving her
standing before the two. Wayne turned to Michael and spoke.
“Do what you must Sir” and he to left the circle leaving them alone.
So, the Ownership Ceremony began that would end with the introduction of a new
slave by her master. Some of the wording used that day long ago, have succumbed to a
fading memory, unfortunately. It was the first collaring I attended, so in many ways
remains fresh. Remembering Michaels first and last words was easy though. Between
them, I have re-constructed as accurately as possible. To Michael and Juliana, if you are
reading, my continued best wishes and trust you will forgive lapses in memory for what
was a special day.
Michael spoke to the nervous woman.
“Look at me please.”
Her eyes rose to meet his and they locked together.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“I am Juliana Rosemary Norton” (name changed to protect her innocence, or what
she may have left of it after being Mike’s slave all these years).
“I am Michael Stephen Smith” (name also changed because of the Witness
Protection Program).
“Why are you here Juliana?’
“I am here to offer myself for the rest of my life, in service to you. It is my solemn
wish that if you will have me, to submit unconditionally. I am here to offer myself as
your slave, to serve, obey, work to make you life comfortable, to support and pleasure
you. To offer advice and skills when asked, to the best of my abilities. I am here to obey
without hesitations, to follow your leadership, to love you, endure for you, to trust and
respect you. I am here, to offer my life to you without restriction, fully understanding the
commitment and loyalty I am undertaking. I offer to you, Michael Stephen Smith, to be
your loyal servant and slave, to be used as you wish, with all my heart and humility.
She finished and there was silence. She lowered her eyes, bowing her head. She
 waited. With a hand signal, Michael gestured the other slaves present to move to a
relaxed kneel. The masters remained standing, as they would throughout the ceremony.
Then Michael spoke.
“Juliana, I have heard your words. You have stated your intentions and
responsibilities and I have listened. I will now state my intentions and responsibilities,
in an oath witnessed by all here, but made to you alone.”
And he began a beautiful statement of what mastery of Juliana would mean,
beginning with his commitment to keep her safe, provide for her needs, to use her and
make her useful, to provide structure, rules and leadership. He took his time, patiently
explaining and acknowledging this all to her.
“Do you understand what I have just said Juliana?”
“Yes Sir” came back the graceful reply.
“Do you accept my commitments to you unconditionally?”
“Yes Sir” she replied again and Michael nodded.
Jonathan stepped forward entering the circle. He handed Michael a leather-bound
book and departed.
“Juliana, in my hands is my "Master & Slave Contract". You have seen this before.
You have read it, questioned it and had it explained to you. I am now going to read it
once more and ask if you are prepared to be bound by the covenants, terms and spirit of
this agreement between us.”
Michael opened the book and began to read. Clause by clause, he methodically read
aloud. After each clause he paused and looked at her.
“Do you agree to this Juliana?”
“Yes Sir.” was repeated over and over.
He read the Preamble and the Identification. He read of his responsibilities, as he did
of hers. He read how future alterations can be made to the contract, by mutual consent
only. He thoroughly read the Agreements between them. He read his Core Value Rules,
the ones etched in stone that would never change. He read of the Boundaries they
agreed to, even the prohibitions of spiders anywhere near her master and everyone
laughed. Finally he read the Signature clauses and the time had come for this amazing
woman to put her signature on paper, binding her to a life of slavery.
“Juliana, do you understand this contract is binding on you and me, only by the
strength of the integrity to honor these commitments to each other?”
“Yes Sir.”
 “And do you understand there is not a court in the land that will uphold the validity
of this contract?”
“Yes Sir.”
“Then what binds you to honor this agreement Juliana?’
“My word to you Sir.”
He smiled, “And mine to you Juliana.”
Jonathan re-entered the circle, this time carrying a bowl, bandages and a quill.
“Give me your hand Juliana” and she offered it to him.
Taking the needle Michael pricked her finger, squeezed it until blood flowed into the
bowl. Jonathan bandaged her finger as Michael did the same to himself. They moved to
the dais, opening the Contract to the Signature’s page.
“Juliana, having heard the conditions of slavery and knowing control of your life
will permanently transfer to me, do you fully understand, feel fully informed and agree to
sign this document surrendering your life into my care?”
“Yes Sir, I do.”
“In the bowl is our blood, mixed together as one. Please take this quill and using
our blood, sign your name surrendering yourself into slavery.”
Michael would not hand her the quill. He made her pick it up. There would be
no help, or coercion for her making this commitment. She had to sign unassisted, of her
own volition.
“You have signed your life to me Juliana. You have taken the first step into slavery.”
Then Michael signed too, accepting her.
Jonathan removed all but the Contract and left the circle. Michael and Juliana
returned to the center. Melanie, Juliana’s attending slave and another slave entered,
bringing a small bowl and paraphernalia. They stood on either side of the new slave.
“Juliana, I demand of you unconditional honesty and openness. You have been left
with a small circle of hair between your legs in the months leading to this moment. As a
symbol of the openness demanded of you, that hair will now be removed. Your
nakedness, at the very core of your femininity, symbolizes your inability to hide from
me. Your last wall of protection is being stripped away between us. Your nudity at the
center of your womanhood represents your reliance on me now and always. You are
defenseless, open, free to enjoy and explore who you are now, a slave.”
“Do you agree to this Juliana?”
 “Yes, Sir” she whispered.
Michael nodded and Melanie drew up the slave’s robe exposing between her legs.
Indeed, there was a small circle of hair on Juliana’s mound. The other slave bent and in
a few quick razor strokes it was gone.
Michael stepped forward placing his palm on the slave’s mound.
“As I want you henceforth Juliana, unencumbered and naked to your very soul for
me.”
Her robe restored, the two slaves retired to their place.
“Soon you will be an owned slave, Juliana.”
Four Masters entered the circle. Two took Juliana under the arms and lifted her off
the ground; the other two lifted her legs. She was in a sitting position, in the air.
Jonathan entered again, raised her skirt and parted her legs. The girl could hide nothing,
her sex fully displayed. Her clit hood ring sparkled under the spotlight. It was easy to
see she had opened and was moist. If she was shy before, in that moment it was gone. I
have wondered since, if at that moment, she experienced a reality check of what her life
in slavery was to be like.
“Juliana, you will now be marked and identified on your body as property.”
Jonathan handed Michael a velvet box. Inside was a small gold dog tag. He read
aloud the inscription.
“Juliana, this tag will be affixed to your vagina designating who you belong to. It
reads ‘This slave is Property of Michael Stephen Smith.’”
Watching this all, I smiled thinking if I ever owned a slave, it would also read “And
if found, return by mail, postage guaranteed!”
“This tag will remain fastened to your vagina Juliana, until such time it is replaced
with an identification symbol, branded into your flesh.”
I was glad Michael did not ask her if she understood, because by now I was not sure
Juliana could respond anymore. Her eyes were getting that glazed look.
Michael locked the tag to her hood ring and she was returned to stand before him
again, her robe once more in place.
“Juliana, do you understand what is happening?”
“Yes, Sir”, came the quiet response.
Michael must have seen the glazed eyes too. She was still functional, but she was
flying. Neither intended this to happen, but the intensity of the moment had gotten to
her. It was actually quite lovely.
 Jonathan returned and handed another velvet box to Michael.
“Give me your hand Juliana. This is a slave ring. The inside surface has been
inscribed marking you as my property. You will wear this at all times. To those noticing
it, who understand its significance and meaning, you are free to confirm you are an
owned slave. To those curious about its design and origin, but obviously unaware of its
meaning, you are only to reveal only that it is a ring you like.”
“Do you understand Juliana?”
“Yes Sir” and the ring slid on.
I chuckled to myself thinking how jealous vanilla wives would be, seeing the haul of
jewelry this slave was getting.
The crowning moment had finally arrived. Michael made the signal and the
slaves all rose to kneel formally. This time Wayne, not Jonathan entered the circle,
followed by his slave Sylvia. He carried a black jeweler’s mat, on which lay Michael’s
leather collar. Sylvia placed a kneeling cushion on the floor, before the slave. Again,
the room went ghostly quiet.
Michael spoke.
“Juliana, this is the moment. It is my solemn resolve to own you. It is my wish to
guide your life, to fulfill the needs in your heart, to provide responsible mastery to the
best of my ability, to provide structure and love. I state to you, before all here, that I will
accept you as my slave, if you so offer. I love you Juliana.”
“You have gone through four of the five steps to become my slave. You have one
remaining. You have offered yourself and stated your intentions, commitments and
responsibilities. You have signed your name in our blood, offering yourself into slavery.
You were stripped of the last wall between us. You have been marked at the center of
your femininity and you have accepted a ring, marking you to the world as a slave.”
“There are five steps Juliana. Each step represents a letter in the word “SLAVE”.
Your final decision will complete the word and you will have entered a lifelong
commitment to slavery.”
“I am asking you one final time if you wish to enter a life of slavery to me. This may
be the final free, unencumbered decision of your life. If you do not wish to continue, you
are free to leave this circle with the best wishes from all gathered here today. If you do
not wish to enter slavery, your decision will be supported by all of us. You may remain
here among friends and are always welcome. You are a trusted, loved and valued friend
of everyone and will always remain so. Do not let your decision be influenced by a fear
of losing friendships.”
“If your decision is to accept and surrender to become my slave, then please kneel
 and expose your neck, that it may be collared. From that moment on you are my
property.”
Time stood still. This was the most intense moment to witness imaginable, let alone
be part of, and I was only a guest. The emotion and drama was palpable and I am sure
every heart in the room was on pause. There were sniffles. The slaves were crying.
Suddenly, Juliana stood taller and looked skyward, to the heavens, perhaps seeking
guidance. Then, her eyes descended to lock on Michael’s and she looked him squarely
in the eye. They stared at each other. How long I have no idea, but it seemed an
eternity. No one was breathing. The decision hung there, the reality of her choice racing
through her brain. Either way, her life would change before our eyes. She knew he was
the best master for her. He was perfect, irreplaceable. If she walked, she would walk
from the lifestyle altogether, never to return. There would be no point continuing. The
perfect master was standing right in front of her, offering what she always wanted. If
she turned away, she would know she did not have what it took to submit, and she would
never explore it again. She would know she did not have the courage and strength to be
a slave. The decision raced through her mind as she stared into his eyes. We could all
see it.
If she knelt, it would be very hard. Thinking in such a different way than how she
learned growing up. Knowing she could no longer buy a little kitten in the pet shop on a
whim, as she used to do. Realizing things would be demanded of her time that would be
so difficult. Would she even have an opportunity to just relax, to recharge and de-
pressurize, as she loved to do? What if somehow her slavery became public? Would she
lose her job, have to move away, rather than endure to the scornful stares of neighbors
and co-workers? She stared into his eyes searching for an answer. She knew it was
there; she just had to see it. She needed a sign. She had been so sure what she wanted
since they met, almost two years earlier. She was sure even as this day began. Why was
this final moment so difficult? Maybe it was supposed to be. Maybe Michael wanted it
this way. When he was teaching her, he had never made things easy. Was the bugger
doing it again?
“Fucking dominants”, she thought.
For a split moment, she almost turned away. It was close, but as she stared into his
eyes, the smirk slowly crossed his face.
“He was doing it, the son of a bitch”, she thought.
He mind fucks me every time. He knows what I need to do and that little smile on
his face is telling me. He loves fucking with me. He loves messing with my head,
because he can and I fall for it, every time.
The drama, the fear of the decision and worry about having the courage to submit to
this man disappeared. He was good, but not that good, she thought. The smirk on his
 face told her. His strict adherence to structure, his sadism and stern demeanor, the aura
he built of control and even today’s dramatic ceremony, could not hide the compassion
in his soul.
“You bastard” she whispered and smiled.
Then she gracefully knelt.
The spotlight went out and the room was suddenly dark. Just the candles burned
dimly. She knelt with her back straight, wrists crossed in the small of her back, her head
lowered and neck exposed. She was offering herself. No one moved. Then a shrill
squeal broke the silence.
The whole ceremony was choreographed and rehearsed. This though, was held back
from Juliana. She had no idea it was coming. The squeal was the bagpiper’s opening
note. Slowly he broke into a stirring hymn. His playing grew to a crescendo as the
spotlight slowly came up. The slaves in beautiful harmony sang the first verse. The
second, by the Masters was deeper and richer. The final verse was together in
celebration, as Michael locked the collar around her neck. Juliana lowered her face to
her Master’s boots. She was home at last.
It was a moving ending to a beautiful ceremony. Michael looked down at his
slave and smiled. Again he spoke.
“Juliana, you are owned. Stand up slavegirl.”
She slowly arose, tears streaming down her face.
“Is there something you want to say to me, pet? Something you have wanted and
now have the privilege to say?”
She wept but the words came out.
“Yes Master. And I just said it.”
Michael took her in his arms and kissed his most treasured woman in the world.

Slave Collar

Michael’s and Juliana’s ownership ceremony, culminated in her being collared into
slavery to Michael. Whether you found their ceremony moving and significant, it
marked the beginning of their permanent commitments to one another, symbolized by
locking the leather around her neck. Collars are but a symbol between two people of a
commitment made identifying the degrees, extent, limitations and responsibilities offered
and accepted of the Three Powers of Body, Behavior and Attitude. The almost limitless
combinations are reflected in the numerous types of collars seen in today’s alternative
lifestyle. Often times, they are informative, revealing the level of understanding and the
seriousness of the commitments made between the folks. As often though, they are just
damned entertaining. For many, the slave collar represents the permanent commitments
to their ideals and each other. Michael’s leather slave collar was no less permanent and
significant than a traditional wedding ring.
Without denigrating vanilla unions, the examination of needs and structure,
identifying core values, triggers, needs and wants were exhaustive leading to their
memorable day and Michael’s collar locking in place. The seriousness and solemnity of
their commitments to each other, overlaid with fun and their joie d’ vie was perhaps a
result of self-confidence born of maturity and age. The honest introspection required to
make their ceremony meaningful is sometimes lacking in youthful couples and
individuals. Regardless, the slave collar represented a total joining of their lives in a
unique way, representing their niche of the power triumvirate. That the niche was
TPE is incidental, the permanent commitment to each other, faithful to and defined by
the Tenets of Mastery symbolized by the slave collar, is what mattered.
The actual collar used by a master in and of itself, often reveals the power
structure of the couple and certainly makes a statement. That the statement is sometimes
written in poor penmanship, is too often true, but it is amusing, and to each their own.
There is a lot of creativity going on in the BDSM community as people come up with
different reasons to collar, and then explore neat and original collar options as symbols.
Perhaps it is due to the Goth culture adopting collars as fashion accessories, which in the
eyes of some in the BDSM community devalues the symbolism of them. A fashion fad
seems a rather insecure reason to change tradition though, but then, I have never been a
fashion guru. The more likely reason for the proliferation of alternative collar ideas, is to
assimilate the collar into everyday vanilla fashion, thus making it more functional and
useable. There is merit in having your slave in her collar regardless of circumstances,
and many creative ideas are developed to do just that. Some use gold or silver anklets,
some a waist chain similar to a fine necklace. There are countless other necklace styles
as well, that people declare are collars. Some are quite pretty and very creative.
However, most often seen as reasoning to go away from the traditional leather collar,
are proclamations of individuality by masters in rebellion of the status quo.
Masters want to do it their way, and slaves seem under the impression the collar is
theirs. Many slaves want to choose it and even believe they should have several to go
with their wardrobe. Knock yourself out, it is your life, but many stick to the simple
beauty of traditional symbols, usage, and designs. They became traditions because
obviously they have merit. Traditionalists too, usually take the time, explaining to their
slave the decision. After all, she does not get a vote, but does have lovely ears.
The traditional collar, as explained by members of Wayne’s group, dates back to the
1960’s, but likely much further. The overriding fact above all others in the selection and
use of the traditional collar, is that it always belongs to the master. It is unlike a wedding
ring in this respect. It is the master that locked, or buckled it onto a slave’s neck; and in
no uncertain terms, it expresses that she is owned, the property of the owner of the
collar. It is not a fashion statement, nor to be taken lightly by the slave. She does not
flick it on and off to coincide with the state of her libido, or wardrobe.
As it belongs to the master, it should, and does appear masculine. It is not a feminine
accessory. It is not bought or made mindful of her wardrobe, colors, or what season she
is. It is traditionally 1 ¾” to 2 ½” wide, made of supple but heavy-weight 7-10 ounce
black, or very dark brown bullhide leather from the back, not sides of the hide.
No ornaments, such as decorative chains or studs, adorn it. In fact, nothing but one, two
or three, steel D-rings, riveted in place are used, keeping the design functional and
beautiful. The D-rings are placed to attach a leash, wrist cuffs, or if you can bend her far
enough without the snapping crackle of bones and moans, then ankle cuffs too. The
image created for the slave is one of ownership. It represents him, as she does. It is
strong, functional, alpha and masculine.
Because the traditional design is not vanilla friendly, it is rarely worn in public,
though as many know, it is on a slave I may own, at home, among scene friendly folk,
whether she is in a bikini, or formal gown. That is the traditional use and one many
ascribe to still, but it does not address vanilla situations. That takes a little more
creativity, but tradition provides a precedent here, yet again. Rather than have her un-
collared in public, traditionalists found a simple solution to keep the vanillas blissfully
unaware, and the slave very aware of whom she is. They simply brand their symbol,
often initials, into her buttock, pussy mound, or upper thigh. Vanilla problem solved.
She is marked and unlike any collar, it is permanent and indelible. It is there for life.
Now, that is commitment and stunningly beautiful.
To mark a slave, there is the traditional slave collar such as used by Michael, a
symbol of permanent ownership. There is also that wonderful mind-fuck-bum-burn, the
slave brand, another symbol of permanence and commitment. Branded relationships are
hot; literally; and rarely go up in smoke. Scream if you must, it only makes me smile.
For the squeamish, where a hot brand on her pussy mound does not cut it, fear not,
we have scarification, sharpened and ready to go. She is not getting off that easily. Grab
yourself a few scalpels, or a razor sharp Hibbons knife, drum up a pattern and start
slashing away. If you are talented, in a few months tracing the same pattern over and
over the scar, presto, you will have permanently marked your slave with your initials.
Think of the countless hours of mind fucks you can do on her, as she endures your
knifeman-ship.
“Be still girl, I’ve never done this before” is a great start.
“Shit, I think I spelled ‘Property’ wrong” is another that will have her squealing.
“Yanno pet, I’m lousy at carving the turkey too” always causes prayers of
thanksgiving.
 “Oh damn, hang-on, I need my glasses” will bring fear and panic, if uttered halfway
through.
When she asks why you are starting on a new place, a simple smile and, “Oh well,
you see, these are John’s initials, I lost you in a poker game last night.”
But without a doubt, the all time favorite is a simple, “Oops. Well nipples grow
back”
It is all good though, lots of fun. Now some like a tattoo as the permanent symbol
marking the slave, but not being one much for the look, they are excluded here. So sue
me.
But, many in the lifestyle are not into permanently marking their slave and
understandably. Relationships come and go at the rip of the Velcro strap of which many
are made. The names that folks come up with for collars though, are a veritable
cornucopia of rationalization on how to avoid permanent commitment and real
responsibility.

Velcro Jeopardy

“Let’s have ‘Collars’ for $200 please Alex.”

“The answer is, ‘Made famous in online fantasy, it has insidiously crept into real
world BDSM and usually ends in pain for the slave.”
Ding
“Yes Brenda.”
“Oh I know this one Alex. Oh boy, do I ever. What is a Training Collar?”
“Correct Brenda, your selection again.”
“Ok Big Al, lets stick with ‘Collars’ like Velcro to my hair. ‘Collars’ for $400
please.”
(Audience snickers and Alex cracks his whip)
“Mind your tongue slavegirl.”
“The answer is ‘I want to fuck you silly, but don’t want to admit that I have
no intentions of owning you. I can’t get laid in the vanilla world, so troll with this.”
Ding
“Yes Brenda.”
 “What is a Collar of Consideration?”
“Correct again Brenda. You are good at this category. You’ve been a busy slut I
see.”
She looks at the jerk and growled. “Yeah right Dom-Boy, lets stay with ‘Collars’ for
$800.”
“The answer is, ‘The big-bad-bully-doms have made these necessary, in lieu of
responsible mastery and because slaves have lost their common sense.”
Ding
“Yes Brenda.”
“Well, since you are going to ask anyway Al, yes, I’ve had this one too. ‘What is a
Protection Collar’?”
“Correct again Brenda. My goodness, you are a little collar slut. Is there anyone
that hasn’t owned you?”
(Audience and Alex giggle. Brenda stews and if looks could kill.)
“Well, let’s have ‘Collars’ for $1600 Big Boy.”
(Alex gives her ‘The Look’)
“The answer is, ‘Worn by slave bitches’. Sounds like a perfect question for you
Brenda.”
Ding
“Oh wow, not the slut this time! Yes, George.”
“Thanks Alex, its hard to out buzz that bitch.”
“Yeah, yeah, we know George. What’s your answer?”
“What is a ‘noose’ Alex?”
“Oh, I’m sorry George. You hung yourself on that one.”
Ding
“Brenda.”
“What is a Choke Chain?”
“Correct Brenda, and I bet you wish you had one around my neck right now huh?”
(Audience giggles and Alex cracks the whip again.)
“And now the last clue, ‘Collars’ for $2000.”
 Ding, ding, ding.
“The second Daily Double. Ok, Brenda, are you going to try to wipe these boys out
and make it a true daily double?”
“Let’s go for it Whipper.”
“The answer is ‘Made famous by Madison Avenue advertising executives, it enjoys a
special spot in the Collars Hall of Fame.”
(Jeopardy music starts)
“Oh dear Big Al, I’m not sure…”
“Well hurry up woman.” Alex cracks his whip again.
“Oh–Oh–Oh… I’m guessing here Alex but…”
“Ring Around the Collar!”
(The Audience holds its breath)
“Oh, I’m so sorry Brenda but, you know us domly types, we’re a bit anal about rules
and hate brats. You are correct, but it had to be in the form of a question. You lose!
Now kneel bitch!”
Indeed, there are many types of collars, representing many things to different folks.
There is the Training Collar, for those really into the fantasy world. Then, there is the
infamous “Collar of Consideration”. This one is a kick save and a beauty. Its tailor
made message is, ‘I want to fuck you but don’t really want to own you.’ But, it sounds
more fashionable than ‘Dating Collar’, or ‘Notch My Belt Collar’. The silliest one
though, is the “Protection Collar”. When hearing it for the first time, I thought it was a
latex cock ring. Sheesh, who knew un-owned slaves needed protection; and that there
were so many Samaritan dominants ready to sacrifice themselves for these poor
maidens. Exactly who do they need protection from, and why? Are they so weak they
cannot say no? Did they lose the number for 911? Or, do they just love being the center
of attention, and are insecure to the point they play damsel in distress because the
thought of being single, destabilizes them. There was a time when slaves did not have to
worry about protection from errant dominants. The Master’s Code of Conduct took care
of that.
There are still more types of collars too. The infamous “Noose” is one. It comes
disguised as a wedding ring and sits on the dominants finger, not the slaves. He prays
one day it will circle his neck and take him from his vanilla hell. But, a favorite is still
the “Choke Chain”. Bark bitch! Pee on the newspaper! You have to love folk’s
creativity.
The oddest collar of all though, was when visiting a chat room, several
 dominants had their nicknames appended with their slave’s initials, similar to how a
collared slave is marked online. I was baffled, but restrained from commenting about
dominants wearing their slave’s collars. Isn’t that cute!

Traditional Steps To Collaring

During the course of writing this book, an odd request came in. A lovely lady, who
by all accounts possessed the heart of a slave, asked if I would explain the procedure to
“petition” for a collar that she wanted, from a master she was interested in, knew quite
well, and who was single. After a smorgasbord of jokes, ‘kneelNkiss’; bareNbend;
gropeNgrovel; and begNblow, we got down to a serious discussion. It was a discussion
too, because while being familiar with the term and concept, the details and actual
protocol was not familiar. As such, suspicion that it was a recent internet concoction
developed by someone with too much hard drive space, and not enough real life dating,
grew. Who knew its origins, but as the lady explained, it was some sort of generic
protocol a slave follows to ask a master for his collar.
It is an interesting concept, but an inconsistency with the practice came to mind
immediately, that being masters generally, if not exclusively, develop and teach their
own protocols. An un-owned slave following an anonymous protocol, not specific to the
master, was rather silly, and smelled of role-playing. A slave petitioning for a collar, to
a man unaware of the petition process, would be an unnecessarily awkward moment for
both of them.
Most amusing was that the lady received the idea from a self-proclaimed expert
master. He counseled her to take this approach. She did; and after reporting back that
the master sought was unfamiliar with the petitioning protocol, the so-called expert
expressed that the fellow must lack experience, knowledge, and was surely a wannabe
predator, with a smooth tongue. In no uncertain terms, she was told, if he did not know
how to handle a petition, then he obviously did not take the lifestyle seriously. She was
better off running from him.
This is typical of egotistical advice slaves receive in the current climate of
anonymous internet expertise, where accountability and experience is absent. So Sir, if
you are reading; and knowing you gave that advice, would you like to modify it in any
way? You are correct in one aspect though. I have no experience with the internet cyber
domination protocols, rather favoring a traditional approach, in keeping with power
structures and dominant leadership. I have been severely limited in cyber experience
within the lifestyle, merely having experience in real life control, ownership and the
attending responsibilities. She unfortunately, did not take your advice, rather choosing
the more sensible and honest path of just asking my intentions. My bad!
A slave petitioning for a collar is practicing an “orphan protocol”. Orphan
protocols, often have the best intentions behind them, but are developed, or practiced by
un-collared slaves to serve a purpose of their choosing. There is no structure to the
protocol, because there is no consequence. It may sound lovely, romantic and respectful,
but it is not specific to the master. It is author unknown, hence the orphan designation.
The petitioning protocol, by its nature, has an element of formality to it, thus requiring a
formal response. But, because it is an orphan protocol, the petitioned master does not
know the corresponding formal response and the whole idea becomes somewhat of a
contrived farce. Masters, as a rule, do not abide by unknown protocols, especially those
forced upon them.
There is a much simpler way for a slave to initiate and express interest, if she thinks
it is necessary, but the petitioning initiative is foolhardy to my thinking. If the master is
interested, he will act of his own volition. However, if a slave wants to initiate and state
her intentions, there is the option of standing in front of him and expressing interest face
to face, in plain language. Granted it can be difficult, for some, without the safety of a
protocol to hide behind. But, just asking if he is interested has always been a
straightforward and honest approach most masters find flattering and appreciate. The
simple, forthright clarity of the statement is a breath of fresh air.
That said, there is a traditional approach to the whole progression to collaring that
makes sense on many levels. It is pragmatic, respects the power structure, and shows
leadership and maturity. For the slave, it allows her to know exactly where she stands;
relieves any pressures to submit on a timetable she is uncomfortable with, and provides
the opportunity to learn exactly the niche he practices, his structure, values, ethical
standards; and just how creative and much fun he is. She in effect, gets the time needed
to know him, without undue pressure. She has a large window of opportunity for full
disclosure about how she will live. Her decision to submit, if it comes, then has value
and a bedrock foundation of mature understanding.
That some masters do not like detailed examination of their lives, a slave’s scrutiny,
and their structure evaluated, is just too bad. For him! Any master hesitant, or unwilling
to be honest and open is a red flag message for any slave. Continuation then, is at her
own peril.
Stories abound in this lifestyle nowadays of slaves being asked to accept a collar
when, unbelievable as this sounds, they do not even know the master’s real name,
address, or where he works. The anonymity of the internet is changing this lifestyle, and
this is but one example of how.
Regardless of the new-age dominance practiced and its foibles, there is a traditional
progression through to a collaring and it makes sense.
You have now met a woman you are interested in and she you. You have chatted,
gone out for dinner, walked on the beach, had a picnic and talked incessantly, your
goals and ambitions identified. The topic of mastery and slavery has found common
 ground and you like each other. Perhaps you have been intimate sexually and shared
that special place reserved for the S&M arts. Your mind has decided; this is a girl you
want to explore owning. It is wonderful that she feels the same way. Is there a
protocol you can teach her to bring order and structure to the process? Of course, the
answer is yes.
When you are comfortable and ready in your mind, to commit more seriously, to
explore where the relationship can go, in the hopes of collaring her down the road,
express that to her. Accompanying your statement of intent, explain the life she will lead
as your slave, what her obligations are, your responsibilities, the Three Powers, etc. etc.
ad nauseum. You are not teaching her all of it, at this point, just explaining it. She
undoubtedly knows much already, from earlier discussions, but go through it again, this
time accompanied by your statement of intent. A toasty log cabin in the woods, a bottle
of wine and the “Fruit Game” is a great setting and way to do this, but hell, the parking
lot at a Hooters works too. Romance takes many forms.
With all that on the table and ready to go, the pressure cooker is now on high.
Undoubtedly, she is excited and if you have explained her future well, she is nervous.
She may begin to feel the pressure of the reality of her life in slavery. Your presence,
thoughtful maturity, knowledge and alpha aura turns her on immensely and contributes
to her nervousness. She sees and feels it and is with you because of it. She also feels
pressure. To value her submission and the choice she ultimately has to make, you want
to minimize that pressure. It is time to give her some space and the opportunity to think
things through, so she is committed to whatever decision she makes. Now is the time to
explain the “Three Steps to Collaring”. It is a protocol.
The first step is already complete. You have fully explained your vision and
structure; and the life she can expect as your slave. You have made your intentions
known. The ball is now in her court.
It is important she know this is her decision. Explain that you will never bring the
subject up again. Her decision to engage in a master-slave relationship with you will not
be influenced by undue pressure, by your constantly raising the issue and asking, or even
demanding her decision. Explain that coercion is not part of this process. You want her
fully informed and to come to her decision of her own free will. The decision is whether
she will offer herself into slavery to you. Make it clear at this point, that you are not
offering her your collar. You are stating your intention to progress to that stage; and the
next step is for her to decide if she wants to even proceed down that road.
Now is her chance to ask all the questions she wants, take all the times she needs.
She has to do her do-diligence. She must examine her needs, your life, check you out to
her satisfaction and complete comfort. She can continue to explore with you. If you are
intimate and have already explored at a sexual and S&M level, continue to, it is fun and
grows the intimacy. If you have begun training her, as you are wise to have done before
this stage, continue it. Some training is required before collaring to avoid bad habits.
 Precedents set are very difficult to change once behavior patterns have developed. In
effect, carry on as usual, but now she has the comfort knowing you are willing to explore
a path to commitment with her. You will likely find she is embracing and loves this
approach. Give her the opportunity to address any concerns she may have with her
future life.
Use the “Requesting Discussion” protocol and ritual (Volume III). It is the perfect
time to teach it and get her in the habit of talking to you as you want, knowing that is her
primary communication channel. She needs to learn and believe it is always open, and
how conflict and concerns are responsibly handled. You may as well teach it now. It is
how she is going to have to behave, the rest of her life. She will begin appreciation of
the commitment involved in her decision. So, now she is talking and asking questions.
Inevitably, she is revealing more and more of herself at the same time; and that is
something you want.
Ultimately, she will kneel and offer herself and that concludes this step. Develop a
ritual for her to do that, or, loving the creative romance of a slave, I prefer she kneel to
submit, but as one of her final free decisions, she is to develop a way to offer herself, in a
way that is meaningful to her. It is beautiful.
So now, she has offered herself, but remember, what you told her at the beginning,
by now, probably many months in the past. Your intentions then, was to pursue a path to
owning her. Her offering has not obligated you. Now, you must decide whether to
accept her and all the responsibility that entails. Just because she has offered herself,
does not mean you are ready to accept. You have been going through the same process
as she in the preceding months. Perhaps she has come to the decision faster than you.
So, take your time.
But now you are ready, you have made the decision that this is the slave for you. In
your mind the decision is made. Now, Step Three, and for this step, another weekend in
the woods is in order, or another spot of retreat and romantic privacy. It is always
poignant. It is a big step for you both.
Step Three begins with a complete rehash of everything about your vision and
structure. Re-read your contract to her, review your rules, protocols and rituals. Review
and discuss all the issues you anticipate and have experience with in the lifestyle, and
your lives together. Hold nothing back about her obligations and how her life will
permanently change. Make sure she understands everything and agrees with it all. It
may seem like redundancy at this point, after all, you have just spent months doing this.
But, you are the master, it is your duty; and remember, master-slave living is still
relatively new to her, she may not have grasped the nuances.
Then, accept her into slavery, or not.
From there, plan a collaring ceremony and do not forget to invite me. I do not need a
petition to accept. I would not know what to do with it anyway.
 Mind Fuck #8 - "The Fruit Game"

It had been a long drive through the snowstorm, but they made it. The plan was for a
quiet weekend in a log cabin, alone, no phones, away from everyone, some wine, an
icebox of wonderful food and his slave. They had earned some quiet time and needed to
focus on their relationship. Careers and kids for the last few months had taken its toll. A
few days of intense re-connect was needed, and they looked forward to it.
The fire was roaring now and the quaint cabin was toasty. It felt wonderful to be
naked on the thick rug, watching the fire. They were settled in and just being alone
together was nice. They even dozed off and on for a while. She too was naked, but for
the leather cuffs and collar. This was a peaceful slave.
“You look beautiful pet. You are my treasure, the best slave a man could own.”
She snuggled into his arms and leaned over kissing her master’s chest.
“I love you Master. We so needed this. It’s been months since we’ve had a chance
to be truly alone. Do you think I can take pain anymore? I thought about it on the drive
up and I’m not sure I can take what you love doing to me.”
“You might be right pet. You had an amazing capacity. I don’t know if you can.”
They lay quietly enjoying the fire.
“But, I will tell you something, my little pain-slut. It doesn’t really matter. You’re
going there anyway this weekend.”
She grinned.
“Somehow, I knew that Master. And when you said it, I felt a little tingle down
there”, she giggled.
“Well, that is for tomorrow pet. Tonight, I have something new and special.”
She looked up, her face lit by the fire and her nipple rings twinkled in the flickering
light.
“Oh? Are you going to tell me?”
He chuckled and bit her nose.
“Not yet, pet. But I am going to rape and pillage you.”
“Oh goody. Wait, errr… Master? Don’t I have to object for it to be rape?”
“Well, then, I will grape you.”
 He grinned the smile of the Cheshire Cat.
“Ack! I just had a vision of a wine enema. Yuk!”
They both laughed.
“No enema for you tonight pet. Tonight you get your inauguration into the “Fruit
Game”.
She looked up puzzled.
“Do I even want to know?”
It wasn’t much later that she was spread-eagled, bound and blindfolded to the antique
four-poster. She had been still and quiet, patiently waiting, nervous, but excited as he
washed and prepared the bowl of fruit pieces in the kitchen. He smiled and settled
between her legs.
“Ok pet, its game time. The show must go on. Tonight we are going to play a game.
It’s called the “Fruit Game” and it is simple. There are rules, punishments, prizes and
bonus prizes.”
He laughed.
“Was that a shiver that just went up your body, pet?”
“Well, I just thought, alone in the woods, tied to this bed and at your mercy. You’re
still sane right Master?”
He jumped her bones right then, enveloping her small body and tightened a grip
around her neck. He snarled into her face maniacally.
“All work and no play, makes Jack a dull boy! Redrum! Redrum!”
This time her shiver was real and he laughed.
“Now listen up slavegirl and pay attention, or this will be a Shining moment. Believe
me, you want to win this game. The rules are simple. While you have been lying here in
bed, resting, being a lazy little slaveslut, your master has been toiling in the kitchen.
Beside me is a big bowl of assorted fruits. The rules of this game are straightforward. I
am going to put a piece of fruit inside you. You have to guess what fruit it is. Simple
eh? A piece of cake for you, you love fruit.”
He cackled. She was paying rapt attention. She knew that laugh.
“So now, I said there are prizes and there are. I have a pile of little cards in front of
me. Every time you answer correctly, you win a card. I had them printed and they say
‘The bearer of this card is entitled to one Free Orgasm at a time and place of her
choosing.”
 “Oh, I love that Master!”
“And here you thought after a decade of slavery, you would never hear the words “
Free Orgasm ” again.”
He was smirking.
“Bananas! Let them all be bananas! I WANT those cards”, she squealed.
He broke into laughter.
“You’re a silly slut, you don’t think I would make it that easy did you?”
She just groaned.
“So now, that is the prize. You can earn a lot of “On Demand” orgasms if you are
good, pet. But, if you guess incorrectly, well then I win, don’t I, and you just know how
much I love winning.”
He snarled in her ear and cackled to the wolves.
“When I win, my prize is to do anything I want to your body, right here and now.
Clamps on your breasts, needles through your nipples, a cane welt on your inner thigh,
whatever I want. Are you with me, pet?”
“Oh, I don’t like this game Master. I know you and your games, and dangling free
orgasms so close is cruel and unusual temptation.”
He just chuckled and licked her nipples.
“Now, now pet, ye of little faith. There is more for you, a bonus if you are a good
girl. If you get all the fruits correct, you win the bonus prize, which is that Sybian you
have been pining for.”
That brought a squeal of delight from her.
“But if you miss every question, I will glue your cunt closed and keep it closed for
the weekend. You will have a little hole to pee from, but I am afraid, any orgasms will
be quite out of the question.”
“Bananas, please let them all be bananas”, she squealed again.
And they laughed.
“One last little detail, pet. Just to keep you focused, every piece will be extracted
with my tongue."
“Oh, I like that part too!”
“Well, it’s not for your pleasure, the sponsors insisted on it for the TV ratings,” and
they chuckled again.
 “Any questions pet?”
Just one request please Master.”
“Sure, what, girl?”
“Could they all be bananas?”
And they laughed again.
“Now, no peeking from under the blindfold, girl. Ok, here we go.”
“A banana!”
“Pet, wait until I put something in you, sheesh, girl.”
An hour later her body was sore. The fruit bowl was empty. His tummy was full
and her hips thrust upward in need, begging for the release the last hour had built.
Clothespins circled her breasts and needles pierced her nipples. She had not done well at
her guesses. A clamp hung painfully from her septum and her labia were duct taped to
her thighs, open and ready. Thighs were not spared either and nasty welts were rising on
her pale skin. But clenched tightly in her sweaty hand, was a card. One solitary card.
After half an hour of vainly guessing wrong, she began answering banana to everything.
She struck pay dirt at the three quarter hour mark.
She was moaning now. The begging to cum had seemed an eternity, but he wasn’t
finished with her. Taking the bottle, he put a tiny droplet on the end of his tongue. It
was payback time; and he licked.
She screamed, snapped her hips and threw the card at him.
“I demand it now!” she wailed.
Without pause, she flew into a mind numbing orgasm. Thank gawd for the ropes on
her ankles, or perhaps this story would never be told.
"OMG, what the heck was on your tongue last night Master?"
They were sipping morning coffee. Sunshine streamed through the window,
glistening off the fresh snow that fell during the night. He smiled at her.
“It was a little payback is all, pet. And judging by your orgasms, I’d say it worked
better for you.”
She looked at me quizzically. She had no idea what he was talking about.
“Remember last summer and the blowjob you gave after sipping a spicy Bloody
Mary? Well, last night was Tabasco sauce payback, except your screams were more
pleasant than mine.
 “OMG, you have an elephant memory Master”, and they laughed.
“Well, I liked that game, it was fun. I want to be your Fruit Loop forever.”
 Chapter X - The Next Step

The philosophies and theories underpinning the master-slave lifestyle are now yours.
They are powerful tools in every dominants progression to mastery. The concepts
simplify and make living the lifestyle sustainable. That was always our goal. The
knowledge de-mystifies and dispels much of the rhetoric rampant in the BDSM world. It
is the very foundation upon which to build credible mastery. Wise men learn it, and as
importantly, teach their slave.
Understanding power and the Three Powers, is universal at any level of BDSM
commitment. Accepting the responsibilities of mastery, and believing in the unique
slave mind, is also critical for anyone committing to TPE master-slave leadership.
There is more however.
This Volume of Devil In The Details, examined the intangibles of master-slavery.
They are just words, talking points, and discussion fodder. Important stuff, to be sure,
but it was mostly theory. However, it laid the foundation for learning to talk-the-talk.
Responsible, sustainable mastery is much more however. Before delving into translating
these concepts to meaningful real life structure, there are other issues to address.
Mastering management of the daily issues, incumbent with master-slave living, is
imperative. Theory is nice, but real life relationship issues do arise. For your slave,
those challenges are wonderful opportunities to showcase the excellence of her decision
to submit. Handling issues with ease and acumen reinforces that choice. However, left
unaddressed, or handled poorly, those challenges will scar, and potentially destroy your
power structure, leaving her submission in peril.
Learning to identify, understand, and develop tools consistent with TPE power
structure, to manage these real life challenges within your relationship, is the next step.
The Devil In The Details – Volume II – Mastery Refined: The Issues – The Skills”,
tackles those key issues.
From Conflict Resolution and the Twenty-Four Hour Rule, to the role of Punishment,
Humiliation, and Sharing, all are ripped apart and looked at in detail.
Handling Topping from the Bottom, Dominant Burnout, dealing with Limits and
Boundaries, and preparing to use your slave; are also there. The One Year Discipline,
Contracts, and maybe as importantly as any other issue leading to a tangible, livable,
master-slave structure, Kiddy Korner, addresses living with kids in the home. Mastering
these issues is worthy of your dominance.
But, for all those serious issues, there must also be fun. So, with crimson face and a
wry smile, When Murphy Brought His Law, a lighthearted look at a masters less than
stellar moments, is included.
The bribe taken to write of these booboos… priceless!

Thank you.
LT Morrison

Perge!