i don't know if this is the right place to put this,
or even if i should be the one to start this thread
some may find it offenisve.. but i am not a man
born of gor.. and this is how i feel and what i am
but i have not been happy with the slave that
i have been of late.. partly this is due to the fact
that i think slavery is an on going process.. one
of contunied learning and growth..the other is
i dunno.. guess the desire to be better.. as i grow
i find things that i never knew i had within me..
and work to intergrate them..
so here i am..making a thread for slaves to share
their thoughts of what their collars and what slavery
means to them.. striving to re look at it myself
and to learn from others
'It is hard to talk with you about these things,' she said.
Book 13, Explorers of Gor, page 352
"The love of a slave girl is the deepest and most profound love that any woman can give a man. Love makes a woman a man's slave, and the wholeness of that love requires that she be, in truth, his slave."
Book 25, Magicians of Gor, page 31
This is not easy for me to give a shape to the vastness of the feelings that fill and consume me..ones that shape and define me...so here is the depths of my feelings and the profound truth there of.
What does my slavery mean to me..All !!..Everthing !!....i chose the collar i begged for the collar...it is not so much that i want the collar but rather that i need the collar..need it as much as the air, to breathe..need it with a fierce and pure passion.
When i write this i weep and i rage..wheeping for the joy that my collar,... that being owned
by my Mistress brings, me every heartbeat of every moment of every day..without a collar i would feel naked and abondoned..if i had no collar i think that i would have to tie a rope around my neck just to get thru the day
i rage because i do not have the ability to tell A/any what it means to me..i search and search
but have only stupid words..spilling forth from me..clumsy and dull as bricks.
~
Within me dwells the summation of all that i have ever been ,,many voices clamoring to be heard..crowding at my throat..desperate to speak....Their spirts move powerfuly within me
singer..poet..fool...they are the path that has lead me here ..their time has come and gone and i banish them one and all ...
Then i start to strip off the layers of masks..layers that we all wear, the forms and
positions that we take to show who and what we are ..the rules of greeting and protocal
that we use..the thin and outward manifestations of what we ........i..... feel inside..one by one,
onion skins like ,i peel them away to reveal a new layer under the skin...
..and i can not give a name to this except it is a mask..one i wear to protect myself from
myself..some things are not meant to be known are for ones much wiser and gifted with
better words than i to tell You the story...
There are layer after layer of masks..and the names and purposes of them have no
meaning no revelance...i strip thsese useless, fear driven masks away untill at last
i come to what lies beneath..
.... the one night..i knew.....what i wanted..knew Whos' collar i wanted to bear.
i knew that rainy night..when You put Your feet under me to warm them.and then
had me "table" to use as your footstool..i was bound to be Yours..
Because i have nothning i can give you nothing and i so WANT to give You something
..everything ! ....so keenly ache with that desire...the only thing that i can give You is what is in my
heart and soul..because You own them utterly..
but still i do not have the words...just the thoughts and actions.
My thoughts lurch back and forth like a drunkard trying to stay on the path.
i have said this before and i say it again....dakota is no more that a glove upon
Your hand...it is You that fills me ..gives me volitation and meaning,..i exist only
for You and for Your pleasure and amusment..at Your direction.
i ramble....if i ever thought to have a wish....and it is so foolish for slaves
to wish..so greedy..my wish would be for You to kill me..putting Your sharpen
steel above the steel that graces my neck..cutting my throat..because i am
happier now than i have ever been........
That sweet steel which tenderly embraces and hold me..is a mercy that You
let me have...wearing Your collar i have meaning and worth and i touch it
all the time...feeling the words cut into my beloved collar...wondering
how i came to be so honored..so lucky..
rambling i can not tell You how i feel only move blindly forward in a
fevered dream of feelings..i love my slavery..wanting nothing more than to
be ever at your feet in submission...not even that..it makes me so happy to
just kneel where You have been or to wait outside Your wagon..kneeling
there..Your slave..and nothing more than that..Your slave..but Oh! how
great a thing that is to me..!
Sometimes i want to belly on the ground and kiss Your footprints as
they are tracked in the soft dust ..i don't love my slavery..love is
too pale a word to say what i feel...i howl inside with my need to be
a slave... and to say what it means to me
This is the best i can do to write what my slavery means to me.. all
of this joy this glory that burns white hot in me.
and these stupid, futile words..are no more than a single grain of sand
on a lone beach, of all the beachs, in all the worlds. when compared
to what i feel about being a slave.
No one will ever take Your collar from me..the only way it will be taken
is when they chop my cold dead hands off it.
dakota{Property of Tira}
