One woman's expedition into a life of "consensual" slavery.

Greetings! My name is ally (I am known as ally{C} online) and I am the surrendered slave to my owner, Master Cavalier. I was asked to write an essay that had something to do with the realities of slavery. The following is a narrative of my journey into the joy and the (my) reality of consensual slavery.

I could bore you with my childhood and teenage years, pointing to the usual things that helped to lead me to where I am today, however, I believe most people have read so many similar adolescent tales that they would grow weary of reading so I will start near to the time that I came to the full realization of who I am.

It was in October of 1997 that I discovered I was pregnant with my second child and instead of the joyous elation I should have felt, my emotions were bittersweet. My husband had told me the night prior that he wanted to file for divorce. We spent the next few months trying to patch things up but to avoid a long, drawn out story, suffice it to say that by the time I was in my sixth month of pregnancy, we were still sleeping in separate rooms and it became obvious that my marriage was in dire straits and as usual, I internalized it all, blaming myself for its failure..

I had been floating around on the internet for a few years, playing a little D&D, attending online poetry workshops and the like. It was through my role-playing that something started to blossom. One of my characters became enslaved to a megalomaniac character. It was quite amusing at first, my character was transformed into a djinni (genie) and spent her time in service to this egotistical master. It was as if I felt one small thing fall in to place and it was almost audible as it clicked.

A slow fire began to burn like it had so many times before yet this time, for reasons still unknown to me, I heeded its call and went first to my husband. I wanted to save our marriage and I wanted to cease to be the one in control. I wanted him to step up to the plate and take control of things. To me, it felt as if we had spent our few years together with him being almost submissive in his passivity and myself having no choice but to be in charge of every little detail of our lives. From paying bills and financial responsibilities to household duties, it was all on my shoulders it seemed. I see now that I craved the release that submission could bring but I couldn't quite put a name to it, nor did I feel very sane in my desires.

At that time I don't believe my husband had little or any interest in saving our marriage or being in control. I tried to talk to him about things but to no avail, so, one night when I was feeling the end of that rope rather clearly, I fired up good ol' AOL and did a member search using words such as "submission, master, slave, sub" etc. I found hundreds, if not thousands of profiles that were little more than bait, looking for cyber sex and the like. The evening hours turned into the wee hours and when I had just about given up hope on the whole thing, I brought up the profile of a man that would soon not only change my entire life but save it as well.

The profile was humorously and intelligently worded and in my eyes, made the man who wrote it appear to be self assured and patient. He mentioned having knowledge of D/s related issues and to make matters better, he was currently online. With trembling hands and baited breath, I typed this message. "Please pardon the intrusion, but my compliments on your quote." I said this because I had found something in his quoted portion that made me chuckle. Surprisingly, I have since forgotten precisely what it was.

I received a reply almost instantly and so began my journey. We talked for about an hour and I asked many questions. "Why do some women feel the need to submit? Am I crazy to feel this way? Are there many women who want this? Have you met them? How do you control a woman?" and so on and so forth.

He had this way of talking to me, expressing himself in an articulate manner while remaining humorous and always keeping the upper hand in the discussion. He offered that I should first turn to the man I married and offer myself to him. He believed that if presented with a loving woman who was truly willing to surrender, my husband would surely see the light.

For the next few weeks, we spoke off and on about how things were going in my marriage and pregnancy as well. He exhibited genuine concern for my well being and we developed a rather different kind of friendship. One that I was not accustomed to as in the past, I always ran the show. It was refreshing and unsettling at the same time that this man could, in effect, change my behavior just by his very presence alone.

My son was born in the Spring of 1998 and it seemed that perhaps things would get better. I still spoke to the man online when I had the time, but I was so busy with the boys and life, that we were not able to talk every night. It was just a few days after my son was born that I discovered something my husband  had saved on our computer that assured me that it was over. Several months of sleeping in separate rooms and even his original request of a divorce hadn't made it all sink in but this -- this certainly did the trick. It wasn't long before he moved out and within months, divorce proceedings began.

I had begun to spend more of my limited free time talking to my online tutor. I confided in him about everything and he was a calm and steady voice of reason when it seemed all reason had left my life. As the days passed, I began to realize that this man was more than a friend and that my feelings for him were not simply that of a run-of-the-mill companion but rather that it was at his feet that I burned to be. We began to talk on the phone, the internet quickly taking a back seat to a much better form of communication. We spoke every day, our conversations spanning all colors of the spectrum, from our thoughts on child rearing to politics, literature and love, religion and childhood and everything else that two people could possibly discuss and it wasn't long before I felt the word "Master" freely fall from my lips when addressing him. The weeks turned into months and by September of that year, I knew that he had irreversibly changed my life and that I could no longer turn back. I had gone back to what my nature wanted me to be and I was drowning in the joy of such a discovery.

I wrote him a letter one night, when I knew that I could no longer bear to be just a submissive woman who desired his ownership. I knew that I must beg him to take me as his own. The night that I wrote these words was one of the most emotional of my life. I remember the tears falling freely as each word was formed. I had so wanted to speak these words to him in person but I knew that it would be months before I would even have the chance so I wrote like I had never done before -- my nerves and my heart so raw and it just poured into each sentence. Here is that letter:

~*~*~*~*~

Master-

Before I begin this letter, I wish to try to convey something to you. It is not easy to put into words so please, bear with me.

I know that these words shall be read by you and not heard as I would wish it to be and as I would so desire to be kneeling before you when they fell from my lips but it is an impossibility, one that I pray shall someday be remedied so as you read this, I would ask that you place an image in your mind's eye, one of me, kneeling naked before you (as my soul is now kneeling, and my heart naked to you) and that you see me, my eyes gazing so intently into your own, and hear my voice as I speak to you.

There once was a place inside of me Master, it was so very empty, enclosed by walls of cold stone and it was hollow - a place of darkness but when one looked closely in the center of this place was a tiny seed longing to grow and break free of those boundaries in which it was kept imprisoned.

I knew of this small seed, and refused to let it blossom, fearing the thorns I knew it would bear, yet wishing so much to understand it's purpose.

The day came when I removed a single stone from one of those walls and came to you, seeking understanding, longing to know why it was there and when you spoke, the seed felt the glorious warmth of the sun shining for the first time and with each day, the stones came down one by one, and the light within intensified, urging the seed to spring forth from the darkness and grow, and so it did, slowly stretching toward the source of light and I looked upon it's beauty. I smiled until I noticed the first thorn and knew then that I was frightened of it, afraid of it's sting.

I told you of my fear, and I heard your voice smile at me as you began to explain the joy that could be found if my flesh tasted of the exquisite pain it could bring to me if delivered from your hand and it was that day that I first spoke your true name -- "Master"

I continued to watch in fascination as it's vines stretched, entwining within my heart, my spirit, but could not understand why it's bud would not bloom, for I knew that this fragile flower would far surpass any beauty I had known.

It was yesterday, as I lie in my bed, feeling our souls entwined across the cruel miles that separate our bodies yet knowing you were there with me, touching me so deeply inside that I was overcome with feeling I had never known. My cries so impassioned, as my hand, your hand, your body, your words brought me to a place I have never been. It was at that moment that the first tear fell from my eyes and I watched it as it dropped, spiraling down, and it was joined by another and yet another, until sweet rain poured into that place in me, showering the vines with it's love.

As I lay there, rain falling, I listened to your voice as you spoke to me, your words so gentle and as the last tear spilled forth down my cheek, I smiled as it splashed upon the unopened bud with such passion that it's green leaves parted and one by one each petal unfurled, revealing a flower of such exquisite beauty, it's blossom lightly dusted in the soft dew of my tears and realized at that moment that you, Master, are the sun and the rain. You are what nourishes my soul.

I have told you many times that I would give myself to you completely, without reservation, that I wished to be yours, longed to belong to you.

I sit here now, feeling that sweet rain once again touch my cheek and I ask you Master to please take this gift, this rose, it's crimson color as deep as my devotion, it's petals as soft and yielding as my body, it's thorns edged with passion, and its fragrance as sweet as my love for you.

Please, Master, take this rose and allow it to bask in the sunlight that shines so brightly from your heart and bathe it in the soft rain that only you can bring, as I now give myself to you if you would have me, for in my soul Master, I am yours.

~*~*~*~*~

It was torture, waiting for him to get home from work that night. I was afraid that he would find my words too much or too little or that perhaps he didn't want the responsibility of owning me. It wasn't until much later that night that we spoke and he told me that I was his, unconditionally and utterly his. I remember my words that night. I sobbed to him on the phone, huddled against the wall in my room, telling him that he could search the ends of the earth for eternity and that never would he be able to find anyone who would love him as I did. He simply said, "I know." It wasn't until months later that he told me that he loved me. I am grateful now, that I was so completely enslaved before I knew of such love.

It was around this time that he introduced me to Gor. I had seen the books before and observed some online role-play on aol but I had never really looked at it with much interest. I was utterly fascinated and he even sent me the first 5 or 6 books so that I could begin reading. I was consistently amazed at the beautiful service of the slavegirls online, and hungry for knowledge, I read as much as I could, venturing into a myriad of Gorean venues online to learn more, experience more, and further my education into both the fiction and the philosophy. There were a few channels on mIRC that I would frequent with him, spending time "together" in simulated taverns and such seemed to take the edge off of the desperation I felt being so far away from him. I learned all of the standards that a girl should know about online Gor and although I wasn't extremely fond of John Norman's writing style, I was deeply interested in what he had to say about men and women and I found comfort knowing that there were others who also felt the same connection to his work that I did at that time and although a few of my views have changed since then, I did and do enjoy much of the time spent there.

Master began to make plans for our life together, knowing that the 2000 miles between us was certainly not practical for what such a life would entail. It was so strange, I look back now and wonder at how I could love a man so deeply that I had never touched. How could I feel so much for someone who had never looked into my eyes. He decided to change all that and made plans to fly out to my state of residence and stay for a week. For the months prior to that visit, my feelings ranged from joy and excitement to the fear that he would not find "ally in the flesh" to be as pleasing as the long distance version.

My fears were all washed away when he stepped from the plane. When he looked down into my eyes and then took me into his arms, I whispered the strangest words... I said to him, "I am home, Master." I knew at that moment that home was with him, at his feet, in his arms, or wherever he desired me to be.

That night, I felt his collar around my neck for the first time. I remember kneeling before him, trying so hard to stop the tears and failing miserably. My entire body trembled with so many emotions. Fear and excitement are a heady mix when combined with love and desire. I will never forget the sound of the lock when it clicked shut. I remembered hearing it before, a fainter version nearly a year before in my own head when the pieces were falling in place. I could not believe that I was actually at his feet and that he found me worthy to become his slave. The next week fairly flew by, we spent every moment we could together. Whether it was taking the boys on outings to quiet moments alone, I had never known such happiness and had never felt so complete as I did when I was in his quietly commanding presence.

The months passed and we visited when we could. I began to tell my family about him, not going into detail about the more personal issues but rather about those things that I knew they would want to hear about. Master and I started making plans for my eventual move to Nevada and my ex-husband had no objections to me moving out of state with the boys, in fact, he showed little or no interest in the baby, seeing him maybe once a month if even that.

The days of summer seemed to move forth at such a slow pace, It was almost unbearable to wait. Finally, in early August of 1999, Master flew out to get me and I had the U-haul packed and ready to go. At about 4:30 am I said a tearful goodbye to my parents and family, never having lived further than 15 miles from my folks it was almost as scary as it was exciting. My oldest boy was to follow via airplane in a week and with the baby nestled between us in a newly purchased car seat (compliments of Master) we fired up the U-haul and began the three day trip to his home, the place where I now sit, typing this narrative.

For all of the months prior to this, I thought I knew what it was all about. I was sure that because I "felt" like his slave and because I had surrendered to him that it was all downhill from there. Surely it couldn't be so much different to be a slave in his presence 24/7 than it was on the phone and online and during our visits. Within a few weeks after my arrival, I realized how wrong that assumption really was.

Oh how easy it was to type my service and to speak of it on the telephone and even to live it at a 2000 mile distance but the reality was that it was something that I had to work at and work hard at, every moment of every day. There really was nothing that could have prepared me for the awakening. It wasn't a disappointment or a let-down, but rather just a shock to what I thought I knew. No matter how much control he had over me, it had always been at a distance or if in person, for a few short days at a time. Now, I was beneath his hand, quite literally, at nearly every moment.

I had so much to learn about how to please him in his home. There were also the intricacies of blending our families together. His youngest son still lived at home and was, at the time, 17 years old. My boys were 11 and 1 and I realized that the lifestyle was very real and not the fantasy that it had been for the prior year and a half. I had to learn to be a slave to him under the very curious eyes of our children. He had and still has no desire to flaunt the trappings and verbiage of our lifestyle in front of our children and I felt the same way. I had to learn all about subtlety and how to keep my station while in the role of mother, all the while learning all of his own quirks and ticks and most importantly, I had to get used to the fact that I really had no choices anymore. That the reality of my life was in service to him and to our children and that my own needs and desires would forever take a back seat to his own.

One of the most difficult things for me to overcome was the financial aspects of it all. Up until that very moment that I climbed into that U-haul, I had been the sole person who handled every financial detail in my adult life. Turning something of such profound importance over to another person, no matter how much they are trusted, is not a simple task. It took a great deal of time before I could get used to begging for things when I needed them or simply begging to be allowed to buy even the most personal items. The experience was humbling and liberating at the same time.

Another that caused me to stumble was that I could no longer simply react. I had to gauge my reactions with the utmost care and make sure that my behavior, no matter what triggered it, was pleasing in his eyes. I don't recall ever having a knock-down drag-out temper tantrum but I had my moments when I would let my mouth run away with me and a decidedly poor attitude emerged for the ride. I learned that it never becomes easy although it has become easier. I still must check my attitude and sometimes it is such a difficult task taking conscious effort every time. It is human nature to bite back and since becoming his slave, my teeth did not just disappear, nor is there the convenience of a muzzle to prevent me from the attack. It is my own self control and restraint and the desire to be found pleasing in his eyes, every time, that must prevail. I also had to learn to accept the consequences when such effort was a failure and to be grateful for them as well.

Each day was so different. Some days felt much like they would in a traditional marriage. With children and work and all of the mundane tasks of every day life, I had little time to worry about anything more than being a good slave and mother. Some aspects got easier -- the more I learned about his wants, needs, preferences, etc., I was able to function in a more fluid manner, making sure that his day ran as smoothly as possible.

I went to work for awhile out of necessity. Master had some goals he wanted to reach and I was just the tool he needed at the time to achieve them. I worked as an office manager for a third party billing company contracted by a local hospital. My time there served its purpose and it was well on the way to becoming a career. Master was pleased that I enjoyed my work and I was happy to be able to give him my paycheck every two weeks and to be able to contribute more financially to the household. Time went on and although I still greatly enjoyed the content of my work, Master began to see that my employer was taking advantage of my willingness to accommodate their every whim. I was being walked on left and right and I didn't have the clarity of mind that my owner did to see it. After a month of uncompensated overtime and a great deal of stress, Master phoned my office and told my boss that I would no longer be working there. He instructed that my things be boxed and ready and that my final paycheck be cut immediately as he would be by to pick them up.

I was absolutely shocked. I sat there in silence while a million things ran through my head and then I heard it again. That clicking noise within my own head that told me that all was well. Where just a few years ago, I would have been visibly enraged that someone would dare to quit my job for me, here I was in complete silence and acceptance of his decision. There was such comfort in knowing that my life is in the hands of one that I trusted so implicitly with all things. There was such a feeling of infinite liberation when I realized yet again, down in the deepest corners of both psyche and heart, that I surrendered my right to choose to a man who would never compromise his integrity or his fine principles to bring harm to me. It may seem to be something trivial to others, but to me it was a milestone in my service to him.

Master continued to work a swing shift in the casino so when he returned from work, I would be the only one awake. Often I would be waiting for him at the door, kneeling in the entryway as I knew it pleased him for me to do. Other times I would run out the door, barely giving him time to get out of the car before I would beg for kisses. There were other days when Master would allow me to sleep before he arrived home and I would feel him crawl into his bed after a long night of work and take his pleasure from me in whatever manner that he chose, from the obvious to simply holding me close. I still believe that I am a fortunate girl to be permitted to share his bed. The times that I have spent on the cold, hard floor beside his bed always served to remind me of how grateful I truly was.

Through the years that I have remained in his steel, we have continued to socialize online and offline with like minded people. For the first year that I lived with him, we spent many nights at his friend's, Master N's with his two slaves (I will call them slave b and slave j). There are no words to describe how utterly marvelous those times were. The three of us girls would spent the evenings in service while our owners sat and talked together, sometimes allowing us into the conversations. We laughed a lot and learned a lot together. There were many hard lessons learned throughout the times we spent together. I learned that it was not only my Master that I had to defer and be pleasing to but that I had to serve, in any manner my owner wished, any person he chose and that I had to do so without question and without fail. Some nights there would be many people there and it almost seemed like that online paga tavern of long ago. Slaves going to and fro in service and free persons sitting on the couches and chairs talking with slaves at their feet. The joy in the reality of such a night far outweighed any that I had experienced online. To see slave b and slave j serve with such exquisite beauty and grace was something to behold and I learned so much from them, watching and listening, discussing and serving beside them.

The relationship that I had with Master N's two girls is still as strong as it was back then, if not even stronger. They have since left Master N's collar and he has moved on in his life also, but they will always be as close in my heart as my own blood sisters.

Yet another obstacle was to come, something that I had never anticipated and it seemed for a brief moment in time, that I would never succeed in climbing it. When Master and I began our relationship, Master had no desire to own another slave. He had told me that one was enough for him and that he really didn't, at that time, believe that his feelings on that matter would change. One of life's lessons is that people do change and nobody is exactly the same from one moment to the next.

Master began talking to me about his desire to own a second slave. My first thought was that I had to tell him no. That he just couldn't need another girl. I wanted to beg and find out what I was doing wrong that he would want someone else. I wanted to cry and ask him what had made him change his mind. I felt like I could not bear that I was simply not enough and somehow, my own insecurities had made me believe that I was not pleasing enough and that he needed someone else to make up for it.

Again, my owner proved to me that begging his collar was the wisest and best thing I could have ever hoped to do. With seemingly infinite patience and compassion, he asked me how I felt about his choice. Not just once but often we talked about it, openly and candidly. He demanded that I hold nothing back and I didn't. I did manage, however, maintain the behavior that goes along with my chosen station and with an ever open channel of communication, I realized first and foremost that his choosing a second slave wasn't about me. It wasn't to replace me or to make up for my shortcomings. It was about his needs and desires and also about complimenting each of us. I realized how utterly selfish I had been in my previous thoughts. He wasn't interested in replacing me but rather in adding to the beauty we already shared. I learned that I don't have to be jealous or envious or frightened but that my trust in him is indeed absolute. I came to a realization, some would call it an epiphany of sorts. No matter how much I had thought I trusted him in the past, that I had been put to the ultimate test and that it wasn't I who had passed but him. He was the reason that I could accept such a decision. It was his wisdom and integrity, his principles, his honesty and most of all, his love that led me to such profound and utter trust.

We are still thinking of another slave, a chain sister for me and another source of pleasure for him. We have found throughout this search how truly fortunate we were to have found each other. With the exception of a few owned girls and others who are in situations that will not allow them to live locally, we have found very few women who even come close to meeting the criteria that Master has set forth. So many women who want to play at slavery but who don't want to live it. So many women who claim to be one thing and yet are something else entirely and so many drama queens that it boggles the mind. Master is a patient man and I believe that even though it may be quite some time before we find a girl that is worthy of wearing the steel of such a fine master, it will be well worth it when we do and I hope beyond hope, that she pleases him.

I do not suppose there are enough words in the English language or in any language for that matter that could adequately describe the amazing qualities of the man who owns me and I do not believe that you could find, in any lexicon, words to describe what my service to him means to me.

I will quote what I said in a post I made not too long ago as I believe it comes about as close as I can to summing it up...