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The Most Beautiful Nightmare You'll Never Have…
Lifestyle Domme & Mistress

Training

slave-diaries

28 May 2015

Mistress

She calls it training.

In its accepted sense “training” should make people more capable, fitter, increase their strength or stamina, or make them better at a specific skill or calling.  In that respect maybe the word “training” is appropriate.  It is a calling to be a slave. Although we initially have free will and thereby consent to a state of slavery, it is very much part of us and something we cannot over-ride or ignore. We are what we are and our only real choice is to be fulfilled and give ourselves as slaves or permanently deny what we truly are. In that sense it is certainly a calling and the “training” certainly enhances my sense of slavery and as such makes me a better slave.

The fact it is a calling is specifically pertinent as a slave of this particular Mistress. There were numerous facets of her being that induced me to give myself to her. Her physical beauty is exceptional. She has inner strength and a naturally dominant  presence. She doesn’t need to scream and shout, she demands obedience in a far more subtle way and, as her slave, I willingly give it. I have grown to know her more since becoming her slave and everything about the Mistress, the woman and the human being enhances the admiration and esteem I feel towards her. I would have directed this acclaim and appreciation towards her had I not been her slave. I adore and respect her.

My Mistresses attitude towards male slaves is clearly defined. She enjoys owning slaves. It amuses her and the power and ability to control and manipulate arouses her as does the normal BDSM elements associated with Femdom. Her attitude towards slaves themselves however is clear. She doesn’t pretend to understand what drives us. She exploits our weakness and submission but, at the same time, despises us for it. By her definition we are not men. Our submission and weakness contradicts her definition of a man. So, the Mistress and woman to whom I have given myself, the woman I adore and respect, despises me for my weakness and does not regard me to be a man.

In normal circumstances, an individual would “walk away” from such a conflict of emotions. To be despised and belittled by someone you adore, hurts, and is extremely painful. These are not usual circumstances however. The very weakness that she despises me for, my submission, holds me there as her slave. I cannot walk away from the pain, I must suffer.

Despite this attitude towards me, as her slave, we still communicate in a very normal way. In much the same way as she doesn’t need to shout and scream commands, she doesn’t need to continually belittle me. Whether by text, email or verbally in her presence, I treat and communicate with her with the respect expected of a slave directed towards his Mistress. As is right and proper, she decides to what extent each individual communication with me fits the D/s, Mistress/slave dynamic. On rare occasions she will be the Mistress or bitch depending on her mood. It suits her, however, that for the vast majority of occasions she doesn’t have to bother communicate with me in any different way to anyone else. It’s easier and simpler for her that way.

However my Mistress and I interact or communicate, the fact that I am her slave, a submissive and thereby despised by her and not considered a man is always known to us both and always present. The pain and suffering generated by this dynamic is close to unbearable and when allowed, I do put it to one side. Sometimes she will ignite the pain with cutting remarks when it pleases her or suits her mood, generally however, it is the nightly training that nurtures and nourishes this hurtful truth.

During the 5 months that I have been owned by her and my cock has been caged, apart from the short hygiene and cleaning breaks, my nipples, which were previously numb and unresponsive, have become extremely sensitive. Unlike my cock, I have free access to my nipples, but she, and she alone, decrees when I may and should arouse them. For the dynamic to thrive and work I must be obedient and truthful. The intense desire to arouse my nipples often surfaces but denying myself that egress fulfils the slave within me and acknowledges the hold my Mistress retains over me.

It is a requirement of training that the nipples are aroused. This now accompanies the insertion of a butt plug in my anus. The latter accentuates my sense of property. She is effectively ensuring I am violated at her whim. The plug represents a man or another object which may penetrate the arse she owns at her decree.

Just a few tweaks of my nipples and my cock fills its small plastic prison. The sensation that has now become well known to me but nonetheless so powerful and unique stirs my genitals. The draft from the hole at the end of the device shoots cold air up my urethra, deep, deep inside me. It may only be cold air but it is as though my prostate is being stimulated and teased. Although it is the piquancy of my nipples that generates the sensations, it is the subsequent arousal of the genitals that induces the emotional and mental fallout.

My arousal is extremely rapid.  Within seconds my mind and body are hers. I worship and adore her and at the same time, instead of hiding from her hurtful attitude and prejudice towards me as a submissive and slave, I embrace it. I become fully aware that this is her world in which her views and mind set is all.  I am weak and pathetic. I should be despised and I am not a man. As the physical arousal overcomes me I am immersed in worship and adoration of her and my own derogation. The resultant suffering arouses me further and I am entrapped at her whim.

The cage ensures no release and I am ensnared and enticed into a spiral of intense torment, mental suffering and worship and deference to her.

When I have previously expressed pain following a particular insult, hurt or put down by her, she has often pointed out that I want it.  She is of course right. I am what I am and can pretend to be no other. I am submissive and a slave. I am weak and pathetic compared to a real man. I can’t change that. I cannot be what I am not. I can and would protect her physically should she ever be threatened. That, however, would never alter the fact that I am a submissive male and therefore her attitude towards me.

The training doesn’t help me accept any of this, it merely helps me come to terms with the inevitable emotional suffering and pain it spawns. This is so important and fits my Mistresses requirements precisely. My pain amuses and even arouses her. For me to accept matters would bring no pleasure. For me to continue suffering but to endure and “come to terms” with the pain is far more delectable for her.

The effects of a training session linger through most of the following day until that following night’s repeat. I sense that the nightly training will deepen and embed the feelings further as days pass.

I believe myself to be hers. However I am of the impression that I am not yet truly hers as she wants me to be. The training may, over time, achieve that. That is what she wants and despite the inevitable, unbearable, unyielding mental suffering I will endure, she knows it is also what I want.

slave penny                         

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