Steelriven
Posts: 300
Joined: 12/26/2005
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Ok, hehe under my name now... Sorry about that.
Not sure where to put this, however I'm sure it will find it's way to the right location. This is an attempt to show two different lifestyles, how they can be alike, and how the can differ from one another.
There is much more to this story, however I chose to post it like this to give more flow to the story. So, the reader can better identify with the main character.
When I post more, please keep reading. You'll be very surprized.
Tiny bumps appeared on my skin, a shiver ran up spine resting at the nape of my neck. My long brown hair spilled over my bare shoulders. I sat on my heels facing the full length oval mirror. Thighs spread apart, hands resting on my thighs palms held upwards. My chin held high, bright green eyes cast down at the floor. A familiar ache pulsated through the muscles in my lower back. I wore a flat expression of peace. My face clean of make up, and my body free of hair.
His hand on my shoulder firm, almost made me jump. It took no longer than seconds for my sexual thirst to drive forward causing sweat to form on my thighs. He bent down, and whispered in my ear. "Look at the mirror girl." I moved only my eyes and starred at my nude reflection.
What I saw was a girl of her mid twenties, thin but not malnourished. Short, but not tiny. Dark brown hair appearing as a contrast to milky white, ghostly skin. It ran straight down to small, perky breasts, hiding the round nipples. Skin marked free of tattoos, and blemishes, with the exception of a strip of freckles running across the narrow shoulders.
His voice was soft, and it shook me from my daze. "You are Kajira. You serve only me. You are mine, property to be used as I see fit. Do you understand me girl?" With out nodding, eyes locked on the mirror, I gave a flat "Yes, Master."
It was simple enough for me to say, I had said it so many times before. It was as simple as turning a door knob. This was my choice, what I wanted to be. And what I am. I am Kajira, and my pride is my Master’s. I shall preform every task put to me, obey with out hesitation. I am my Master’s property, I am his to command. It’s so very simple, this is what I choose, this is my life. I gave myself to him, heart, body, and mind.
Not many people understand the complexities of what I have given, and what I have received. Most every day people scoff at my choice, naming me as a victim. Seeing me as nothing more than an abuse case. It kills me inside that they can’t understand my decision. That this was my choice, and that I was forced into nothing. This is something locked deep with in me, that only my Master can free when he chooses. People must understand this is what I want, what I need. I am happy, I am proud, I have been set free in my eternal bonds.
His voice brought me back from my thoughts. "I want to hear you say it." I looked straight into the mirror never flinching, "I am Kajira, I live to please Master only." He smiled and kissed my cheek. "Good girl." His fingers ran down my shoulder, resting at my breast to gently cup it. "You are very beautiful. Look at me." I turned only my head, letting myself grin at his compliment.
He placed a soft kiss on my lips. "I love you, every part of you. You are only mine. What you give me no other woman could." I smiled, "Thank you Master."
His name is David, but that’s not important for the only name I call him is Master. And in public, I call him Sir. We met three years ago. I was at a bondage party with a friend. She’d wanted me to come because I’d never seen bondage in public. I was fairly new to what most call the "lifestyle."
I was shy then, and stood by my friend Lisa for the most part. She on the other hand was quiet eccentric. She introduced me to many people, David had been one of them. He had offered to preform my first whipping. I was hesitant of course, and awe struck that such a handsome man would want anything to do with me.
Blue eyes, I fell into them like a deep pool of water. His demeanor was intimidating, and yet he was so gentle. He lead me into the lifestyle a little at a time. He lifted me up, fed my confidence, and showed me who I really wanted to be.
There was a period of time, where he had been very strict. Punishing me for the slightest of things. His voice was often harsh, and every day he gave me a new set of rules. I was to obey these rules with out hesitation. I was given no solace if a mistake was made. He called this my "training." He showed me what he wanted, how he wanted things done. I was to adhere to this with the upmost care, and take pride in my accomplishments. For everything that I conquered, gave pride and joy to my Master.
It had been a year since my last training period, and now it was to begin again. I didn’t exactly hate training, however I disliked the way I felt. Always guessing myself if I have done something proper, guessing my confidence.
Little things that normally would make me laugh at the reality of the situation. He’d never leave me if I couldn’t fold a towel the right way he wanted it. If I couldn’t serve breakfast on my knees, with out spilling a drop of food. If the bed wasn’t made carefully and with no creases. I know this, but during these times of training I question every little thing.
During this time he offers me little reassurance, because he knows my trust in him must not fail. That I need to develop my own confidence, and be aware at all times of who I chose to be. This time the training would be different.
My suitcases sat on the floor next to the bed. Our eyes were still locked together. My lower lip started to tremble, tears ran down my cheeks. Questions, oh how I had so many questions. He was sending me away. Sending me away to another Master, another man. Why? Was I not what he wanted anymore? Did I do something horrible? What could this other Master teach me that he could not? Did he still love, and care for me?
His hand moved from my breast and suddenly he threw his arms around me and gave me a firm hug. "Trust in me darling. I’m going to give you what you really need." I opened my mouth to speak, but looked down and closed it. I must not question. To question him would be to question my trust in him. He knows me, and he knows what I am. Trust in him Kajira, he is your Master. It is simple as that.
I wore his collar when I boarded the plane. I wore his smell, the soft caresses, kisses, and strong hugs seemed endless during the car ride, and the wait for the plane. I had forgotten, not only was I losing him for a period of time, but he was losing me as well.
I sat quietly on the plane, trying to numb the cloud of questions twisting in my head. The same questions kept turning up over and over again. I tried to keep my mind off of them. Listening to the classical music blaring in my head phones. Drawing in a notebook Master had given me. It didn’t stop them.
When I arrived a black limo had been waiting for me, a man wearing a suit and a black hat held a sign that read, "Kajira 1024578." It was my registered slave number. I was shaking, as the man opened the door to the car. I closed my eyes, and gave a deep breath when I saw the backseat empty, meaning only to carry me.
The driver said nothing to me as we drove away. During the plane ride, and car ride I had bitten my nails down to almost nothing. I sat wringing my hands, sweat beaded my forehead although it was cool in the cab, and I was wearing a light sun dress.
Who was this new Master? What would he be like? Would he be cruel or kind? What would he teach me? What would he demand of me? How long would it be until I could see my old Master again? I was determined to please this new Master, to show him how well my old Master had taught me. To bring pride to my old Master.
I starred at the floor of the limo the entire time, we were in California now. The sun showed through the tinted windows and shadows danced on my knees. My hair hung in my face, but I didn’t bother to remove it.
We suddenly stopped, and I looked out the window. A set of giant metal gates stood in front of us. The limo driver pressed a button on a box concreted into the brick wall that held the gate. We moved forward, and I watched awestruck. Trees loomed over us forming a hallway, birds sang and flew in many numbers. It was all so breath taking, and beautiful.
The drive way was round, and made of tiny grey rocks. It lead up to a massive red bricked house. A set of stone stairs gave way to a large wood door. In it’s center sat triangles of tiny multi-colored glass. I suddenly breathed deeply, and hadn’t noticed I was holding my breath.
"Wow." I spoke with out meaning to. The limo driver smiled, and opened the side door. I slid out, and heard a soft crunching as my feet hit the ground. My eye brows furrowed. "Who is this guy?" I thought puzzled for a moment. My eyes ran over the stairs, I took a deep breath. "This is it. I must trust in my old Master, I must not fear. I am Kajira, and I will serve." I spoke to myself softly.
I walked with my head held up, hips swaying, hair pulled off my shoulders, and left to spill down my back. My arms placed at my side, I walked with confidence. I was slow, but not hesitant. I would show this new Master what I was worth, what I am. Giving pride, and joy to my old Master.
I reached the door, and knocked. I then laid down on the cold stone, arms outstretched, on my stomach. I was unsure if I needed to beg entrance, but It’s always to give a proper greeting rather than to pay for an improper one.
The door opened and I did not look up, it was unbecoming of a Kajira to look a Master in the eyes with out being told to. I heard a male voice, and felt a firm hand caressing my shoulder. I spoke softly, my voice betraying me. "This girl begs to enter Master’s domain." The voice was low toned, and gentle. "Good girl, stand, and you may enter."
I stood slowly, my mind not hesitant but my body overran my confidence and I shook. I saw his shoes, dark brown, and leather. He was wearing black, creased dress pants. His belt was thick, made of black leather. He wore a plain yellow polo shirt, his hands looked worn, but not from age, from years of hard work. He chest was pronounced and thick.
"Kajira you have my permission to look." His voice came again. I took my time, working my way up from his thick neck to his strong clean, shaved chin, his square face, brown eyes, and finally to his short black hair. He was handsome, but not as handsome as my old Master.
He moved aside to let me pass him. I entered the house, as he shut the door behind me.
We were in his study, I was given a plastic glass full of apple juice. I sipped it slowly, savoring the sweet taste. The house was massive, a collection of elegance. His study consisted of a wall of shelves lined with what must be thousands of leather bound books. A desk sat in the middle, made of oak rich in detailed carvings of intricate patterns. I wanted to run my hand across them, but I didn’t.
I was offered a seat in a large plush chair. He leaned against the desk, legs crossed, wrists clasped together, his face showed no sign of emotion.
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steelriven who's just a lil_twisted
-Don't asume, instead ask.
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(Story) The Opposite - 
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