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A Slave's Love Notes

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Praefectus Praetorio

R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
“Go Stand in the Corner”

Most every little girl and boy has experienced that command and punishment.

However, only a lucky few big girls have had the experience.
It has, of course, adult refinements.

First and most important, you must be naked or nearly naked in the corner. Punished, banished to the corner, you lose dignity and status. You are exposed to whatever additional punishment your Master decrees. He must be able to see your bare skin and vulnerable flesh to command the next phase properly. And you know there will be a painful next phase.

Second, you must be bound in the corner. From as simple as a wrist tie, to heavy chains or to an extensive webwork of rope, you must be bound to know you are at his mercy, and that soon, you will hurt. It is the vulnerability, not the restraint that matters.

Third, you must stand tight into the corner, your head lowered, your forehead to the wall. Your senses aroused and controlled. Your sight only on the unfocused closeness of the plaster. Your breath and smell closed in by the solid walls. But your hearing is acute. With reflection from the walls, you listen to everything carefully, intently. Do you wonder what your Master is doing? What equipment might he be assembling? When will he come for you? Your skin tingles with hypersensitivity, anticipating the pain to come.

Sweet Torture – Unreasoning Fear – Uncontrolled Arousal - Delightful Anticipation.
“Go Stand in the Corner” How much you love those words!

Good Night Sweet Lassie

[D} My favorite waiting.

Praefectus Praetorio

R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
No picture to start today. Use your imagination to see the scene

The Flight of the Whip
It has two parts. The whip has two ways to please both Master and Slavegirl.

The Anticipation of the whip
Not just a single pleasure, but a series of wonderfully increasing pleasures.
Retrieving the whip; uncoiling it; laying it out, long and snakelike; making it slither on the floor. All meant as prelude so that we can anticipate the pleasures ahead.
Drawing it back and forth, twirling it, swinging it in the air, then…snapping it! A sound loud enough and sudden enough to make both Master and Slavegirl flinch. The anticipation has by now excited both to a new level of heat.
Master draws back the whip in a long slow arc, it will race forward in a moment, but anticipation is still the pleasure. God! It is so close now!
Then the leather whips forward through the air, blindingly fast; still only anticipation. Slavegirl's body tenses, even more so her mind, imagining, dreading, loving, craving the blow. That fraction of a second may seem like an hour. The pleasure of the wait is close to orgasm!

Praefectus Praetorio

R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
Then the Second Part. Ahh. Sweet Anticipation!

The Kiss of the Whip

Here, so sweetly, the promise of the long anticipation is fulfilled. Here the contact is made. Here the hot lips of the whip kiss the delicate, hungry, trembling flesh.

The wise Master never reveals his aim. The slave must prepare, fear, and desire for the touch anywhere. When it occurs, the kiss will feel as if a surprise visit by a lover, catching her unawares, stirring delight at his appearance.

The first kiss of a session is the best, the most desirable, the hottest. The first shot of pain, racing through the nervous system, from the abused skin to deep in the brain in milliseconds – triggering pleasure center – felt milliseconds later in the loins. There will not, regrettably, be another in the session so singly stimulating.

Therefore the first should always be just the lips or the whip, just that short, thin leather at the end, impacting on a particularly soft and sensitive place. The breasts and nipples, or the belly near the navel, or the bottom of the asscheeks, or, deliciously the lips or slit of the pubes must be the target. When the slave feels this kiss, the pain inflicted then will set the tone for the whole session. It is the power of first impressions – and this is a special impression.

As with any good lover, after Master delivers the first kiss, he follows, building many kisses, increasing and decreasing his pace, varying how deeply his tongue thrusts into her soft, vulnerable nakedness.

Praefectus Praetorio

R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
From supple, warm leather
To Cold Hard Steel


The Attraction of Chains

What is it about chains? What makes them so erotic to us?
We should be attracted to soft, bare flesh. Yielding, flexible, responding to the touch.

Chains are just the opposite. Unyielding, inflexible, oblivious to our touch. Hard metal that will not give a millimeter. Unbreakable – unlike our very breakable skin.
You cannot reason with a chain. You cannot threaten it. Locked in a cage, alone for days, try as you might, you cannot bend it to your will. My love, you wear chains beautifully, like you were born to do it.

The craftsmanship evident in a quality chain makes it precious. Its strength makes it erotic. Its power to bend you to its will makes it exciting. You despair of escape; the chain will always win. These characteristics arouse our desires.

Wearing chains, you are the most desirable slave. When you are chained, my slave, you are mine. Your will, your obedience, your defiance, your entreaties – all mean nothing. You must obey the chain! I love it when you wear chains.
When you are chained, it is over, you have been conquered. You submit your lovely body to the chains. You hang your head as a lowly slave.

When I desire, I will raise your head to view your face. And demand a kiss.

Praefectus Praetorio

R.I.P. Brother of the Quill

Waiting is a necessary behavior for the slavegirl to learn completely.

Waiting is denying your will and accepting the timetable of your Master.

No rushing to the front bay window to look for Master approaching (you know what I mean, don’t you?)

No fidgeting and hinting of a need for discipline. A Slave must never rush her Master.

Although the rules requiring patience on the part of the slave originated with Masters, they should provide the slavegirl with great satisfaction. Resisting your urges, controlling your desires, submitting to your Master, and his timetable – these things let you know you have become a slave, an obedient and valued slave, not just a polite, agreeable lover.

Even when you receive punishment, slavegirl, you must wait patiently. Never say “faster” or “harder” unless Master has directed you to say so. You must wait, passively, meekly, patiently for each and every kiss of the whip, smack of the paddle or slap of the hand.

You must wait like a slave at an auction. Wait for your Master to pick you out. To chose YOU!

Waiting at Auction.jpg
Then you know how truly valued you are!

Good Night Good Slave

[D] Good night, good Master. I will wait for you!

Praefectus Praetorio

R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
The new Slavegirl

Part I

You have been chosen. So much you know from your collar and chain and your nakedness.
You have yearned for this for so long. Since before you’d understood the term.
- Slavegirl.

Owned. Bound. Helpless. Trained. Corrected. Punished.
Now you wait. Now you wonder. Now you tremble.
What will it be like? Not like the fantasy romances, of course.
Not like your dreams from childhood. You are old enough to know dreams never come true.
Now you are a slavegirl, that is truth. You wait on your Master, that is truth.
Your Master. The words fly through your mind. The thought mesmerizes. A new truth.
Master. Slave. Words so fraught with meaning and emotion, promise and threat!

You are the new Slavegirl.

[D] That brings back when I first became your slave! :icon12:
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Praefectus Praetorio

R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
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Part II
Your new Master has chosen you.
What is he like? Why has he chosen you? What does he have in mind for you?
Would you be loved and cherished and protected as a prized possession?
Would you be abused and beaten and broken in mind and spirit?
Would you grow closer to Master in his giving and your receiving of pain?
Would you be forever separated from your Master by his guilt and your resentment?
Only your Master can properly answer these questions.
You are the new Slavegirl
You belong to Master, mind, and body.
You are the new Slavegirl.

Praefectus Praetorio

R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
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Part III
Are you waiting jealously, new Slavegirl?
Do you think Master is taking too much time letting his other slaves serve him before you?
Do you want – do you long for – do you desire his attention?

Soon Master will come for you, new Slavegirl!
Does that thought arouse you? Does it excite you?
Do you feel moisture between your thighs when you think of Master punishing you?
Does your skin tingle at the thought of Master’s whip slicing into your softness?
Do you hold your breath, thinking of your screams of agony?
Can you distinguish your desire to serve from your desire to suffer?

Do you want Master
- To respect your submission?
- To want you?
- To lust after you?
Do you hope he will take you after he has used the whip?
After the pain, will he take you hard?
Can you serve only his needs, his desires, even as your pain burns, and your lust rises?

Are you aroused, new Slavegirl?

Perhaps you are ready.

Here Master comes!

Praefectus Praetorio

R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
Irons for the Slavegirl

Part I
Does a Slavegirl need irons?
Not really. Not most of the time.
She will not run away. Serving her Master is too central to her soul.
She need not be dragged somewhere. She will hasten to respond to her Master’s call
She does not need a reminder in her servitude. It has been written on her heart.
She need not be reminded that she is a slave. She has known it since her earliest memories.

Iron wrist or ankle or neckbands are useful to quickly restrain a slavegirl. A reminder to her that, however, well she performs her service, however, devoted a slavegirl she is, there's always that possibility just click or two away! To allow quick and even unexpected punishment. Useful, but not needed.

When does she need irons? When her punishment is beyond human endurance. When, despite the deepest and most robust sense of loyalty and obedience, the body will not tolerate the pain. Then place her in irons – heavy irons. Thus, may she luxuriate in her agony!

to be continued

Praefectus Praetorio

R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
Part II

Does a Slavegirl want irons?

Most definitely

First and foremost, she loves the feel of iron.
The hardness, the coldness, the inflexibility.
Iron feels like slavery, like helplessness, like pain is soon to come.

Second, the rigid bondage of irons, says she is owned and controlled.
She has no choice left; she has lost her will, her independence, her doubts.
For there is no longer room for self-doubt, the iron screams, you are owned.

Third, no matter what she does, no matter how hard she tries, she cannot control her fate,
At any moment, the irons can be bound, connected, cuffed, to stretch and expose her body for punishment.
When the Slavegirl wears irons, her Master may subject her to pain in an instant, regardless of her behavior.

Knowing that she is helpless, owned, with no will of her own, no self-doubt, exposed to immediate punishment – this fulfills her deepest wishes, arouses powerful passions, and satisfies her most profound desires.

Yes, A Slavegirl wants irons!

Praefectus Praetorio

R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
Before The Fire

The Slavegirl’s thoughts

On your knees, arms chained and raised, before the fire.
Your body stripped naked, your head submissively down, before the fire.
You Master has placed you, he did not explain, he bound you, before the fire.
The room is cold, yet your body pours sweat, before the fire.
The flagstones are cold and hard, hard on your knees, before the fire.
You feel the heat, the strong radiant heat, before the fire.
Your nipples protrude, your nipples harden with desire and fear, before the fire.
Your hair falls down, your hair covers your eyes, from the fire.
Your mind will not rest. Your senses are racing, toward the fire.
Try as you will to do other, try as your must to think other, you think of the fire and –

why did Master, before he sat down, place that iron poker in the fire?

to continue

Praefectus Praetorio

R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
The Master’s Thoughts

You are so beautiful, my Slavegirl, on your knees, before the fire.
Your skin, naked, gleaming with sweat, almost glowing before the fire.
Your back, ready for the whip, curved, the muscles highlighted before the fire.
Your sweet breasts, so soft and fair, and vulnerable before the fire.
I see my whip curling around your back, drawing your pain before the fire.
The whip snaking around your sides, reaching under to kiss your breasts near the fire.
I will make you squeal with pain and with pleasure before the fire
Slash after slash tearing your buttocks, driving you closer to the fire
I resist, I doubt, I desire, I think that is is the irresistible call of the fire –

The iron is heating well, soon I may use the fire to brand you forever mine!

Praefectus Praetorio

R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
A more light-hearted post
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The Slavegirl’s Butt

Something of shame (it’s fat, isn’t it?)
Something of embarrassment (it’s too flat, isn’t it?)
Something to hide (I love these loose slacks)
Something to flaunt (Do these look too tight?)

Everything belongs to Your Master
All your Master’s possessions have great value
You should be proud of being your Master’s property
You should know that your Master treasures all about you.

The exquisite roundness, the curves and planes, the dimples and creases
The soft bounce, the smooth skin, the full, meaty flesh that craves punishment.
The acts of love and pain possible, even demanded for that beautiful rear.
A hand, a paddle, a belt, a whip. Your butt captivates my imagination, dear Slavegirl

I must look at it! Kiss it! Pinch it! Bite it! Smack It! And yes, OWN it!

Praefectus Praetorio

R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
My Morning Brew

I admit it.
I’m addicted to my morning brew.
Hot and Steaming
Smooth and Rich
Awakening my Senses!
Touching my Desires!

I admit it
I’m addicted to my slave in the morning
On her knees, Doe-eyed, Legs wide-spread, Hot and steaming with desire
Looking up as required with Obedience and Expectation
Her submission awakens my Senses!
Her soft slave eyes kindle my warmest Desires!

Good Morning Dearest Slave

Praefectus Praetorio

R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
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The Place of the Slave

The slave must kneel before her Master.
The slave shall prostrate herself before her Master
The slave always places herself below her Master.
This position remands them both of the exchange of power that has occurred.
The slave has willingly surrendered the power over herself.
The slave has given to her Master the power over her mind and body,
The slave has freely, and without payment in return, given it away.
The slave no longer has the power and nor the need to protect it.
She is free of the burdens and concerns of power.
She kneels before her Master.

Good Night My dear friend

Praefectus Praetorio

R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
Swirls on the Wall

“On your knees, slavegirl!” Master ordered, “kneel on this.”
He placed a cafeteria tray on the hard slate floor near the wall. It was filled with sand-colored gravel.
I kneel obediently. The sharp stones prick the stretched skin on my knees and shins.
“Hands behind your head, elbows back, straight up,” Master orders. I obey at once.
“Study the swirls in the plaster. Let your mind be lost in their pattern.”
I focus on the wall while my knees are screaming in pain. I will myself to focus.
“The swirls have no beginning or end. They dance perpetually before you, going from nowhere to nowhere.”
I focus. Even as the pain builds in my knees, my mind moves more to the wall.
“A good slave is like the swirls. She has no beginning and has no ending. She comes from nowhere and goes to nowhere.”
I focus on the wall. I tell myself I have no beginning and no end. I am from nowhere and going nowhere. This seems to calm my mind.
“The Slavegirl lives in the moment her Master has created. A moment of pain or a moment of pleasure or even both.”
I struggle to be like the swirls. My mind is clearing, the pain in my knees is still there, increasing with time, but receding into the background. The wall is drawing me in.
“You are a good slave. You have surrendered your mind to me. I shall make you whole.”
“Thank you, Master!”
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