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<blockquote><br>
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<font
color="#F9F8E5"
size="4"><i>Master,<br>
Your girl went to bed last night with one thought in mind, a
prayer said silently to grant this one grace and quiet poise to
balance her wanton slavefire and passion, to know that she moves
and responds in manners that brings you pride, love, and
happiness in your possession. Looking back, as milestones in our
life often prompt us to do, this one considered the sweet irony
of our first encounters, and her own naivet� in regards to our
growth together for so long. It is our journey, our growth, our
life that has changed so much, starting off with no expectations,
and steadily growing to a point where the emotion binds this girl
to your will, your soul as no other ever has. This slave doesn't
even know all that she is capable of giving-- she has grown so
much throughout her enslavement. Looking back through her most
intimate moments recorded in the diary of a slave, she realises
that this is the journey of discovery what being a slave truly
means to her.</i></font>
<p><font
color="#F9F8E5"
size="4"><i><br>
<br>
</i></font></p>
<center><font
color="#F9F8E5"
size="4"><i><img
src="images/kaylee/boundbar.jpg"></i></font></center>
<font
color="#F9F8E5"
size="4"><i><br>
<br>
Dear diary,<br>
Tonight I uttered words that I once swore would never cross my
lips. I did not realise that I was saying it until I did and my
shock was evident. When the sweet burning inside me wrenched open
my pride, and I could no longer hold it in, I whispered "slave".
That's all. One sigh, one word which changed me so. Because he
stopped, and asked me if I knew what I said, and I could only
nod, tears swimming in tears of joy. I felt oddly peaceful, and
yet, my blood was rushing so loudly, I was sure he could hear it.
Why did I fear it so? What does it mean?</i></font>
<p><font
color="#F9F8E5"
size="4"><i><br>
Dear diary,<br>
I used to think that slaves had no opinions, no minds of their
own, no strength. A lot of the ones I talk to are looking for
someone to make their decisions for them. I've seen Masters get
called on their cell phone every hour, because the girls need
permission for even the little things, long distance. Maybe what
I've feeling isn't slavery. I'm feeling more free, not
restricted. My mind seems to work more, examine myself and his
views even more now. I want to be proactive and know him so well,
I obey instinctively, not because I have lists and lists of
rules. What happens if I get caught in a situation where the
rules don't apply, and I cannot think about what he'd want me to
do? I'd love to know what he expects or enjoys, and make my
decisions with that foremost in mind, or to be trained so well,
that words aren't necessary.</i></font></p>
<p><font
color="#F9F8E5"
size="4"><i><br>
Dear diary,<br>
A Master asked me today to describe why I felt I was a slave,
and I gave it much thought before sending him a letter. I wrote
him, "I am a slave, to deny myself the pleasure of surrender
would be the same as denying any other aspect of my nature. This
is not a role, or a mask I can don at will. It is a flame within
my slave heart that endures, be it engulfing me with desire or
burning steadily in tranquility. It is me.</i></font></p>
<p><font
color="#F9F8E5"
size="4"><i>So why do I feel this need to embrace this
lifestyle? Without my surrender, without the ebb and flow of
power exchange to tantalize me, without the undying ache to
remind me of my slave soul, without the growth and constant
redefining of my fears and personal limits, my life is not
complete, but merely a shell of my potential. Once having tasted
the completion, the serenity of true total surrender, how can I
seek anything less?</i></font></p>
<p><font
color="#F9F8E5"
size="4"><i>To be owned, to reveal my soul slowly, peeling back
layers until I am exposed to another, to intertwine so seamlessly
with another that I can no longer remember where I stop and he
starts, to be taken to the edge in trust and feel the adrenalin
course through me, to reach limits and heights I never thought
possible on my own, yet eagerly strive to reach for another's
pleasure... it is these aspects that I cannot live
without."</i></font></p>
<p><font
color="#F9F8E5"
size="4"><i>Why did I open up to a stranger, based on a few
short words with him? I'm not sure, but now I can't help but
wonder if being this open to a man is a risk. He affects me,
although I try not to let it catch me off guard. I'm stronger
than that.</i></font></p>
<p><font
color="#F9F8E5"
size="4"><i><br>
Diary,<br>
Sometimes I wonder if he knows what exactly is going on inside
my head? I watch other girls, so peaceful, so serene in their
slavery, giving up everything so easily... and yet... I am
fighting this every inch. I am a strong slave, assertive in
nature and self confident in my worth. With every level I sink
lower into my surrender, I fight it internally, struggling to
maintain the last shreds of self control until at last I cannot
hold back any longer and let go completely. When not controlled,
I seize control. Is it me? Am I just too stubborn to give to that
depth that I crave? I told him, "I am strong, a Man must be
stronger..."</i></font></p>
<p><font
color="#F9F8E5"
size="4"><i>Each time I go deeper, give just a little bit more
than I dreamed I could. It terrifies me, losing that control I've
kept wrapped so tightly shrouding my soul. And I can't explain it
but I'm drawn to what I fear most, feeding off his fire --
feeling mine grow where only darkness existed before. I'm scared
of this ache I feel to be vulnerable. I'm terrified of being
weak. Can a strong woman give herself so utterly?<br>
</i></font></p>
<p><font
color="#F9F8E5"
size="4"><i>Diary,<br>
Last night I visited with Master, he required me to use third
person. I hated it. Its dehumanizing. I could not communicate, it
felt very stilted. I ended up correcting myself more than
actually speaking intelligently. It made me feel distant from
myself, as though I no longer existed. What happens if I lose
myself? I've been so worried about that lately, even more when I
realized it could actually occur.</i></font></p>
<p><font
color="#F9F8E5"
size="4"><i>Its strange, its like what I am talking about is
almost not happening to me. I become uncomfortably aware of how
many times I refer to myself. It made my cheeks burn, realizing
how self absorbed I was, and having to pause before speaking. I
started paying attention to how others spoke in the everyday
world.</i></font></p>
<p><font
color="#F9F8E5"
size="4"><i><br>
Dear Master,<br>
How do you know what exactly are my fears, Master? I am so
frightened of discovering my dark side. A dear Master once told
me that his slave and I were alike, except that she was immersed
in darkness and I was the light. (Although I never will agree
that his slave and I are remotely alike, I agree that even at the
deepest level that I have known it, my submission radiates energy
and a purity of light shining from within, never darkness). Yet
lately, just before I met you, I felt that energy change. I can
feel the darkness just beyond my reach, and that terrifies me to
know I am drawn inexplicably to its flame.</i></font></p>
<p><font
color="#F9F8E5"
size="4"><i>I want to trust you enough to peel back my
protective shell, my layers of doubt and fear, until I am
completely exposed to you. Master, my thoughts would become your
property, as well as my heart and spirit, until I can feel us
becoming entwined as one, where there is nothing surrounding me
but you. You call it your hunger, I call it your essence, but
either way, we feed off the other's spirit, making us both
stronger than we would be alone.</i></font></p>
<p><font
color="#F9F8E5"
size="4"><i>I look back on your card, and it sends chills deep
into my heart to know that you would guide me if I placed myself
in your hands, knowing what I need and what you hunger for and
that I could fulfill you, if only you would let me try my
hardest. I ache for you to mold me, guide me, shape me, and use
me. I can taste how badly I want that. And yet, the fear of
seeing your darkness and knowing I will be consumed by it,
wrapped so tightly in it that nothing else exists, I think of it
and sometimes cannot breathe.</i></font></p>
<p><font
color="#F9F8E5"
size="4"><i>I want to be worthy of you. I want to endure for
you. I want to know I exist for you. I want to be completely
owned by you.</i></font></p>
<p><font
color="#F9F8E5"
size="4"><i>Everything else is secondary.</i></font></p>
<p><font
color="#F9F8E5"
size="4"><i>I want to fight you, scream at you, feel you push me
harder than I ever knew, and strip away everything without mercy
until I am begging just to feel you surround me, giving
everything up to surrender to you. I want it rough, aggressive
and furious, and to be able to fight it with every ounce of
strength within me, until I finally feel the serenity come. And
then, once the walls have been torn down, to reveal to you what I
am, deep down inside in my core, and that I would not have the
courage to do otherwise, hiding behind my shield.</i></font></p>
<p><font
color="#F9F8E5"
size="4"><i>God, Master, how do I handle this?</i></font></p>
<p><font
color="#F9F8E5"
size="4"><i><br>
Diary,<br>
I'm depraved.... oh lord, help me... I did things that are
unspeakable, and found joy in my shame. He called me on things
I've never permitted myself even considered, never uttered aloud.
I've found out just how low I would go to please him, and felt
him stripping my pride away. I can't even admit what I did, and
yet, I'm drenched while I'm trying not to think about it. My
body's primal response through my tearful protests... god, how I
hated him for doing this. I denied it vehemently until my body
betrayed me and I could no longer hold it inside me. I felt every
inhibition screaming as I cast them aside, acted as a beast would
out of sheer lust and desire to obey. I've never felt so out of
control, so absolutely slave to another's whim. And yet, he
treats me the same, accepts me for reacting the way I did. How
can he accept me when I won't even admit what's inside me? And
yet, I wept as I thanked him for tearing down my pride. I thanked
him for reminding me that I will do absolutely anything for him.
What have I become?<br>
</i></font></p>
<p><font
color="#F9F8E5"
size="4"><i>Diary,<br>
I'm beginning to love. I know he will never fall in love with
me, and it doesn't matter. All I want is to just be allowed to
love him. How can I not? How can a girl be devoted to such depth,
how can she worship without love? Please God, I don't want to
love. I don't want to be vulnerable... please spare this last
fortress of my soul. Let me find a way to worship, to give myself
so completely, but spare my heart.</i></font></p>
<p><font
color="#F9F8E5"
size="4"><i><br>
Master,<br>
How did you bring me to the place you always knew I was going to
be? I didn't want to be here! I never wanted to give this much.
I'm losing the idea of "me" as an individual. It's terrifying,
all my life, I've been taught to look out for myself first. To
protect myself, and to be strong, to know what is best for me.
And now, I'm having a hard time feeling separate from you. I'm an
extension of you. Still my core, but your essence inside.
Sometimes the words coming out of my mouth are those that you
first told me, so long ago. Philosophies I argued with you for
hours, and swore you were dead wrong. And I find it occurs
usually when someone says challenges those beliefs, that I
realize I have grown to accept them as truth.</i></font></p>
<p><font
color="#F9F8E5"
size="4"><i>I'm getting to a point of acceptance, of growth. I
feel you standing on the other side, watching me intently. When I
step forward, it will be because I simply cannot stay still, and
devotedly trusting you with no coercion except my sheer need to
be part of you. I keep lifting my foot, and pausing, putting it
down tentatively... aching to make that step. It's so close - I
feel you inside me.<br>
</i></font></p>
<p><font
color="#F9F8E5"
size="4"><i>Diary,<br>
I am feeling the growing pains between Master and I. Trying to
determine what I need vs what I want, what he wants and needs,
trying to obey, and be the kind of slave he wants. At times, its
so hard, but I succeed and god, my heart soars, and at times, it
seems as though I could not possibly be the one he will
ultimately own. This knowledge has broken my heart. And still, I
try harder than ever. Why don't I just walk away?</i></font></p>
<p><font
color="#F9F8E5"
size="4"><i>My biggest fears: When I beg for his collar, he will
reject me. When I surrender everything, he will leave. I am not
the kind of slave he can own. I cannot please him due to my own
fears.</i></font></p>
<p><font
color="#F9F8E5"
size="4"><i>But to obey and understand why and then do something
that is not for myself, but for him -- not because he tells me
to, but because I wish to please him and understand that while I
obey-- that is where my understanding of my slavery comes from. I
can rejoice in what I give. The best example I can think of is
when I bellied for him out of love. I hate to belly. I loathe the
position and its symbolism to me. But when I did that, it was a
conscious decision to do it for him... not because he said belly
for me, slave, but because I loved him so much and ached to
please him, there was no other choice. And then, god... I felt my
slavery.<br>
</i></font></p>
<p><font
color="#F9F8E5"
size="4"><i>Diary,<br>
They tell me there's a choice I make. A choice to give myself to
another. But I'm finding that I'm fighting this so hard, and
still unable to stop it. There is no choice... he's taking my
soul, he's slowly wrenching my heart open, I am so under that I
can't stop what's happening. And its so natural, so blissful, so
peaceful when I do give... why am I fighting it? Its like someone
is holding my head underwater, and I am powerless, thrashing
around wildly. My heart and soul burning, and suddenly, I give
in. Stop trying to control it at my own pace and letting go, and
breathing in the sweetness of the air when he lifts me back above
the surface. Each delicious inhalation of breath, suddenly more
grateful than the last, filling me with serenity.</i></font></p>
<p><font
color="#F9F8E5"
size="4"><i>I cannot control this. I cannot control him. I
cannot control my need. There is no choice.</i></font></p>
<p><font
color="#F9F8E5"
size="4"><i><br>
Master,<br>
This slave is finding a softness on the inside, something she
never knew she had. All her strength is not needed to protect
her. She's finding her vulnerability exist. And from deep
within... an inner strength, a quiet confidence, serenity, a
security in who she is and her self worth. The fight in her still
arises, but mostly when she goes deeper, and the fear kicks in.
But for the most part, its simply blissful acceptance. Can this
be what she was trying so hard to hide behind the wall of a
strong woman?<br>
</i></font></p>
<p><font
color="#F9F8E5"
size="4"><i>Master,<br>
Your girl had a conversation with another girl about happiness.
In the context of a Master striving to make his slave happy, she
said, " I also think my happiness is important... I have a strong
desire to serve my master in everything he wants. I do everything
my master says to do and that in turn brings me
rewards."</i></font></p>
<p><font
color="#F9F8E5"
size="4"><i>Thinking about this at length, this slave is happy,
extremely so. She just gets her happiness from being a good slave
to you, and making you happy above all else. Definitely not by
insisting a Master struggle to please her. Slavery is a bliss
that you just can't find anywhere else. In slavery, you lose the
"what's in it for 'me' if I do this" and the "well, am 'I' happy"
because for this slave, she is not as concerned with herself as
she is with us together as a unit. This slave's finally put
losing herself into words which make sense: "I lost the ME, and
became part of WE".</i></font></p>
<p><font
color="#F9F8E5"
size="4"><i>This slave has a need to please you, Master. It's
way beyond the desire. Is that what makes slaves different? Need
versus desire? Not only does she obey what you tells her to do,
she thinks of millions of little ways to enrich your life, to let
him know how grateful she is to serve you. She takes initiative,
in knowing your preferences and pleasures, and goes above and
beyond obeying to truly satisfy you.<br>
</i></font></p>
<p><font
color="#F9F8E5"
size="4"><i>Diary,<br>
Someone asked this slave "would you feel less owned if your
Master decided not to use you for his sexual pleasure? Would you
still be his slave? would you still be his property? Would you
continue to serve to the best of your ability?"</i></font></p>
<p><font
color="#F9F8E5"
size="4"><i>It hit this slave close to home, because she has
been feeling so different from everyone. She's finding that her
sexuality heightens in service, any kind of service, but it is
not the sole basis of her slavery. That she is aroused in the
mundane things, the things that are so absent in sexuality, more
of an awareness of her femininity. It accentuates her slavery,
but is one of many components. It made her question slave nature
compared to slut nature, and where does the idea of selfless
service fit into the mix. For this one, she's finding she
responds to what the man wants, be it quiet service that is not
intrusive, discussion, or sheer slut. She feeds off him, and
reacts to his actions. Is being a pleasure slave only
sexual?</i></font></p>
<p><font
color="#F9F8E5"
size="4"><i>She did find that something occurred -- she would be
so incredibly aroused, and struggle so much to please him,
fighting back orgasms as she focused on him... and more and more
often... when he was pleased, or smiled, her soul would suddenly
relax into a peace that was better than any orgasm, and the need
to physically release melted. In fact, one time, he permitted her
to orgasm after he was pleased with something, and she blushed
and said, "this slave doesn't think she can." Her mind/emotions
exploded already, just from hearing him say "good
girl".</i></font></p>
<p><font
color="#F9F8E5"
size="4"><i>Another reminder of the joys of slavery...<br>
</i></font></p>
<p><font
color="#F9F8E5"
size="4"><i>Diary,<br>
This slave used to think she craved such strictness. All the
rules would show he cared, to feel her slavery in every aspect of
her life. To test the boundaries to make sure they are
there.</i></font></p>
<p><font
color="#F9F8E5"
size="4"><i>As we've grown, this slave's noticed that she
understands more his philosophies, and how he expects this slave
to behave. She is starting to know him well enough to read him
without words, and please him without a direct command. Working
seamlessly, in sync, evident to others as well as ourselves, it's
incredible how it feels.</i></font></p>
<p><font
color="#F9F8E5"
size="4"><i>three rules:</i></font></p>
<p><font
color="#F9F8E5"
size="4"><i>1. Protect Master's property<br>
2. To obey above all else.<br>
3. He comes first above all else.<br>
<br>
<br>
Everything else is a derivative of these rules.</i></font></p>
<p><font
color="#F9F8E5"
size="4"><i><br>
Diary,<br>
A kajira asked this slave if she felt that being enslaved
involved sacrifice, and if so how. This slave replied:<br>
<br>
I sacrifice my freedom. I sacrifice my own desires, which I
never stopped having but I willingly swallow those up in order to
make his life happy the way he wants it. Doesn't mean I can't
voice them, it does mean I sacrifice the right to have
expectations of having them fulfilled. Being slave doesn't mean I
stopped being human and having desires. It just means that he
comes first in all things. That involves some sacrifice to me. I
sacrifice my sense of self identity, in order to be part of
something bigger. I sacrifice my protective walls and privacy, in
order to be completely accessible to him. I surrender this all
for the sake of his ownership.</i></font></p>
<p><font
color="#F9F8E5"
size="4"><i>I suffer for him, I sacrifice for him. I struggle to
learn patience and grace in accepting my mistakes. I am learning
to lose the selfishness that I was taught "to look out for myself
first". And in exchange, I am given the joys of his ownership,
the incredible feeling of all that I give being worthwhile. I
give when it isn't easy for me to give, and he constantly
challenges me on that. I consider it "growing
pains".</i></font></p>
<p><font
color="#F9F8E5"
size="4"><i>Maybe I'm not a natural slave. But I think if it
were easy, everyone would do it. And I think selfless slaves are
rare. I'm not one myself, but slowly learning and hopefully one
day I will be. Perhaps to my Master, it would not be as
meaningful if what I gave was easy to do without a second
thought.</i></font></p>
<p><font
color="#F9F8E5"
size="4"><i><br>
Master,<br><A NAME="snippet">
This slave has started to settle into the idea of it being "our
life" and by that, she means what you call "your life" and that
is such an enormous step for her. Where have I gone? It makes
this slave ache to scream to everyone that she is reaching a
depth that she never dreamed of being possible for her. That you
opened her up to realizing what she am capable of giving to
someone. And yet, at the same time-- this slave's so scared--
your life is so blissful in its simplicity. One goal: making you
happy. One focus: You. She aches to take care of you, care for
your home with quiet pride and tender attention to detail.
Master, this slave doesn't know how to be quietly serene and
content! But it's so close under the surface, blending with her
passion and fire and leaving this one unsure of what to
do.</i></font></p>
<p><font
color="#F9F8E5"
size="4"><i><br>
Diary,<br>
When this slave first met Master, he once mentioned he would
brand a girl he had owned for a significant amount of time. It
was enough to make her seriously consider not pursuing things
with him. She is the kind of girl they have to strap down just to
give blood, not known for withstanding pain. Yet, she realized
this week, she would beg to be marked in any way he would
consider, only to be worthy of bearing his mark in whatever form
it was. That she would no longer be able to say no, and would in
fact, beg for something which she cannot even imagine enduring.
This knowledge brings a girl peace. When she thinks she can give
no more, she sinks down to find a different way to let go. Her
life is his. He can do anything he wants to her.</i></font></p>
<p><font
color="#F9F8E5"
size="4"><i><br>
Master,<br>
Time spent reflecting on our journey, illuminates the changes in
thoughts. Your philosophies, once so different from her own, are
now ones that she holds as truth. How she came to that
understanding, she is not sure. She is finding that her needs
tend to change as she grows, as do yours, and she is coming to
terms with the knowledge that yours come first above all else,
and she will serve just as happily regardless. Also understanding
that she is obligated, and bound by her slavery to you, to make
you aware of her needs, desires, thoughts and questions, without
expectation of reaction, until you see fit to command silence
from her.</i></font></p>
<p><font
color="#F9F8E5"
size="4"><i>Something this slave has been aware of since she
gave herself with you, she handed you the one thing she cherished
most: her escape route. She admitted that she needs you, and
accepted the vulnerability that she exposes to you-- reveling in
the knowledge that she does absolutely trust you to do what is
best, and that she relinquishes all rights save one. You have
probed forgotten alcoves of her psyche, carefully working through
them (with incredible patience) to banish her own insecurities
and fears. For this, this slave cannot thank you enough, Master,
for in doing so you have helped her heal old wounds, and have
gained a deeper level of trust and security in knowing you know
what is best, even when she herself does not.</i></font></p>
<p><font
color="#F9F8E5"
size="4"><i>There is something so powerful in your strength of
spirit, so much incredible respect for the man you are, the honor
you live by, the care you show for others in your life. The
knowledge that you have chosen to let this slave into your life
on whatever level leaves her heart overwhelmed with emotion. For
not only does she live to please you, you have showed her that
she truly is capable of surrendering to be the kind of slave you
need. With your guidance, instruction, command, and strength
behind her, she has accomplished things she was not able to on
her own. There is no fear, no fight. She knows she will grow as
you wish, and finds solace in her absolute trust.</i></font></p>
<p><font
color="#F9F8E5"
size="4"><i>During the times she needed pushing, you chose to
observe without comment, ensuring she felt your presence and will
as she struggled to obey against her own wishes. During the times
she should find her own path, you forced her to stand alone, and
take tentative steps forward, naturally progressing to areas she
did not know existed before then. You watched over her, and took
care of your property, even when it was not what she directly
wanted, or felt she needed. As a result, she is deeper, more
aware and comfortable in her slavery, determined without coercion
but through careful growth. You are inside her always, your
voice, guiding her to learn to manage herself, and yet somehow,
growing more and more important in her life. You pull this slave
back from running pellmell forward into her slavery, instead,
slowly lingering along our journey as if it were a moonlit path,
pausing to inhale the sultry breezes and admire the blooms bathed
in the lights of stars. Each time this slave tries to peek at the
path ahead of us, it turns, so that she is best kept heeling at
your side with the squeeze of your hand, blindly trusting you to
guide her along to your realm. And every so often, she whispers,
"Show this one more."</i></font></p>
<p><font
color="#F9F8E5"
size="4"><i>There is a deeper sense of spirituality that has
grown, the awareness of devoting her life in service to another.
This slave has found its not about her any more, that she is part
of something bigger... she is part of you, Master. This feeling
is everpresent in her mind and soul. Others made their slavery
look so effortless. But for this slave, each step forward is
worth much when she struggled and grew as a
result.</i></font></p>
<p><font
color="#F9F8E5"
size="4"><i>This slave's life is yours.</i></font></p>
<p><font
color="#F9F8E5"
size="4"><i>The words that this slave could not express the day
you took her as your property: To you, this slave promises, her
goal in life is to make yours better for having her in it. She
will obey. She will reflect well on you as your possession. She
will continually strive to ensure your happiness. There is
nothing you could not ask of this slave. She will learn humility,
and peaceful grace at your feet. She is grateful to be allowed to
kneel at the feet of men, and for the guidance she has received.
She is yours, because she cannot imagine not being
yours.</i></font></p>
<p><font
color="#F9F8E5"
size="4"><i>She already was.</i></font></p>
<p><font
color="#F9F8E5"
size="4"><br>
<br>
<br>
<i><b>La Kajira!</b></i></font></p>
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size="4"><br>
<font
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color="#F9F8E5"><i>All rights reserved.<br>
� Copyright 1999-2001 kaylee</i></font></font></p>
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