Horae Diurnae – The Training and Daily Life of a Modern Slave Girl

[Eulalia]

20. The Work Day

The slave girl, of course, listens in silence to Master's orders, memorizing them. However, Master may, and quite often does, consult His slave to hear her opinion on some matter; an intelligent slave is a valued possession. The Law allows for this but rules that the slave must give her view humbly and submissively.

This girl's daily routine is strenuous, needless to say, but not mere mindless drudgery nor continual sex work. It is a varied range of activity, some of it being the basic necessary tasks of any domestic slave – though even these must be performed with love and devotion, washing, dusting, polishing, treating everything of Master's possessions as sacred.

But Master recognizes what his slave does best and sets her tasks that use her particular strengths. In the kitchen, she prepares meals for Him and His Honoured Guests. In the garden, she cares both for the kitchen crops and His rare and valuable plants. In the study, serving as His secretary and personal assistant, she aids with his research and writings on the ways in which Papias's teachings concerning 'Christian Freedom and Service of the Lord' have been interpreted and put into practice, both in civilized societies and its corrupted and perverted forms. As well as being another form of service for this girl, it is an education for her, helping her to understand ever more deeply the moral basis of modern voluntary enslavement.

One teaching which Master especially upholds is that a Man should have nothing in His house that He does not know to be useful or believes to be beautiful – beginning of course with His slave girl!

Important among His possessions is His collection of rare and antique equipment for bondage and instruments of torture. These include the massive rack, wooden horse, torture chair, and whipping frame down in His dungeon. These have to be thoroughly cleaned, oiled, and polished before and after they've been used. That use is often (as His slave girl experiences their power and her helplessness as they work remorselessly to break her). Also available are cruel needles, little pincers, tiny darts, a whole set of shiny surgeon's tools for torturing a girl's most sensitive parts.

Apart from the equipment kept in the dungeon, much of His prized collection is arrayed around the house, some hanging on walls alongside paintings and prints of scenes of girl-hunts and captures, slave-sales, beautiful slave girls in their multitude of colours and complexions performing their duties with elegance and grace, and grim portrayals of punishment, torture, and cruel executions. Others are laid out on shelves, windowsills, and mantelpieces. It is this girl's task not only to dust and polish them, but to ensure they are placed with careful attention, to suit their location, balance one another, and benefit from the moving light through the great windows as the day passes. So a gleaming Pear of Anguish is set beside a small sculpture of a nude captive girl; a spiral of shiny steel chain lurks like a cobra below a painting of a sacrificial temple where the female victim is being prepared for her fate; dark iron branding irons and flesh-tearing hooks cast shadows on a pale wooden bench equipped with shackling rings ...

And, later in the day, this girl may be called upon to display her other talents, such as they are, singing and dancing, maybe for Master alone, maybe for Honoured Guests. And, naturally, she may at any time – but especially when Master has Guests – be required to serve in whatever sexual ways her superiors may command. Through the working day hours, the body and mind that Master has bought are used in many, varied ways, so the body remains fit, agile, and supple, the mind alert and focused on its duties.

 

[twonines]

20. The Work Day

The slave girl, of course, listens in silence to Master's orders, memorizing them. However, Master may, and quite often does, consult His slave to hear her opinion on some matter; an intelligent slave is a valued possession. The Law allows for this but rules that the slave must give her view humbly and submissively.

This girl's daily routine is strenuous, needless to say, but not mere mindless drudgery nor continual sex work. It is a varied range of activity, some of it being the basic necessary tasks of any domestic slave – though even these must be performed with love and devotion, washing, dusting, polishing, treating everything of Master's possessions as sacred.

But Master recognizes what his slave does best and sets her tasks that use her particular strengths. In the kitchen, she prepares meals for Him and His Honoured Guests. In the garden, she cares both for the kitchen crops and His rare and valuable plants. In the study, serving as His secretary and personal assistant, she aids with his research and writings on the ways in which Papias's teachings concerning 'Christian Freedom and Service of the Lord' have been interpreted and put into practice, both in civilized societies and its corrupted and perverted forms. As well as being another form of service for this girl, it is an education for her, helping her to understand ever more deeply the moral basis of modern voluntary enslavement.

One teaching which Master especially upholds is that a Man should have nothing in His house that He does not know to be useful or believes to be beautiful – beginning of course with His slave girl!

Important among His possessions is His collection of rare and antique equipment for bondage and instruments of torture. These include the massive rack, wooden horse, torture chair, and whipping frame down in His dungeon. These have to be thoroughly cleaned, oiled, and polished before and after they've been used. That use is often (as His slave girl experiences their power and her helplessness as they work remorselessly to break her). Also available are cruel needles, little pincers, tiny darts, a whole set of shiny surgeon's tools for torturing a girl's most sensitive parts.

Apart from the equipment kept in the dungeon, much of His prized collection is arrayed around the house, some hanging on walls alongside paintings and prints of scenes of girl-hunts and captures, slave-sales, beautiful slave girls in their multitude of colours and complexions performing their duties with elegance and grace, and grim portrayals of punishment, torture, and cruel executions. Others are laid out on shelves, windowsills, and mantelpieces. It is this girl's task not only to dust and polish them, but to ensure they are placed with careful attention, to suit their location, balance one another, and benefit from the moving light through the great windows as the day passes. So a gleaming Pear of Anguish is set beside a small sculpture of a nude captive girl; a spiral of shiny steel chain lurks like a cobra below a painting of a sacrificial temple where the female victim is being prepared for her fate; dark iron branding irons and flesh-tearing hooks cast shadows on a pale wooden bench equipped with shackling rings ...

And, later in the day, this girl may be called upon to display her other talents, such as they are, singing and dancing, maybe for Master alone, maybe for Honoured Guests. And, naturally, she may at any time – but especially when Master has Guests – be required to serve in whatever sexual ways her superiors may command. Through the working day hours, the body and mind that Master has bought are used in many, varied ways, so the body remains fit, agile, and supple, the mind alert and focused on its duties.

The Master is obviously a William Morris disciple, so presumably, all the implements and furniture are hand made in the finest Arts and Craft tradition!

 

[Loinclothslave]

Now @Eulalia is winning the “hottest post of the thread” category. Grimly beautiful, Eulalia, thank you, so many amazing elements, particularly the details of the torture devices in the dungeon and on display. Truly you put into words what the mind of this slave loves, who is deeply moved by such an intricate fantasy.

More than a bedroom kink, or an act.

 

[Cran]

And, later in the day, this girl may be called upon to display her other talents, such as they are, singing and dancing, maybe for Master alone, maybe for Honoured Guests. And, naturally, she may at any time – but especially when Master has Guests – be required to serve in whatever sexual ways her superiors may command. Through the working day hours, the body and mind that Master has bought are used in many, varied ways, so the body remains fit, agile, and supple, the mind alert and focused on its duties.

Would dramatic poetry reading be one of the ways that Jess can show off her talents? While her master makes sure that he can still admire the beuaty and value of one of his possesions.

 

[Fossy]

A slave girl clearly needs to be skilled in so many ways. What an excellent narrative!

One teaching which Master especially upholds is that a Man should have nothing in His house that He does not know to be useful or believes to be beautiful – beginning of course with His slave girl!

I find this a very pleasing doctrine to live by ...

Also available are cruel needles, little pincers, tiny darts, a whole set of shiny surgeon's tools for torturing a girl's most sensitive parts.

... and damn that is so very erotic!

Serving her Master's whims ...

 

[Kathy]

20. The Work Day

The slave girl, of course, listens in silence to Master's orders, memorizing them. However, Master may, and quite often does, consult His slave to hear her opinion on some matter; an intelligent slave is a valued possession. The Law allows for this but rules that the slave must give her view humbly and submissively.

This girl's daily routine is strenuous, needless to say, but not mere mindless drudgery nor continual sex work. It is a varied range of activity, some of it being the basic necessary tasks of any domestic slave – though even these must be performed with love and devotion, washing, dusting, polishing, treating everything of Master's possessions as sacred.

But Master recognizes what his slave does best and sets her tasks that use her particular strengths. In the kitchen, she prepares meals for Him and His Honoured Guests. In the garden, she cares both for the kitchen crops and His rare and valuable plants. In the study, serving as His secretary and personal assistant, she aids with his research and writings on the ways in which Papias's teachings concerning 'Christian Freedom and Service of the Lord' have been interpreted and put into practice, both in civilized societies and its corrupted and perverted forms. As well as being another form of service for this girl, it is an education for her, helping her to understand ever more deeply the moral basis of modern voluntary enslavement.

One teaching which Master especially upholds is that a Man should have nothing in His house that He does not know to be useful or believes to be beautiful – beginning of course with His slave girl!

Important among His possessions is His collection of rare and antique equipment for bondage and instruments of torture. These include the massive rack, wooden horse, torture chair, and whipping frame down in His dungeon. These have to be thoroughly cleaned, oiled, and polished before and after they've been used. That use is often (as His slave girl experiences their power and her helplessness as they work remorselessly to break her). Also available are cruel needles, little pincers, tiny darts, a whole set of shiny surgeon's tools for torturing a girl's most sensitive parts.

Apart from the equipment kept in the dungeon, much of His prized collection is arrayed around the house, some hanging on walls alongside paintings and prints of scenes of girl-hunts and captures, slave-sales, beautiful slave girls in their multitude of colours and complexions performing their duties with elegance and grace, and grim portrayals of punishment, torture, and cruel executions. Others are laid out on shelves, windowsills, and mantelpieces. It is this girl's task not only to dust and polish them, but to ensure they are placed with careful attention, to suit their location, balance one another, and benefit from the moving light through the great windows as the day passes. So a gleaming Pear of Anguish is set beside a small sculpture of a nude captive girl; a spiral of shiny steel chain lurks like a cobra below a painting of a sacrificial temple where the female victim is being prepared for her fate; dark iron branding irons and flesh-tearing hooks cast shadows on a pale wooden bench equipped with shackling rings ...

And, later in the day, this girl may be called upon to display her other talents, such as they are, singing and dancing, maybe for Master alone, maybe for Honoured Guests. And, naturally, she may at any time – but especially when Master has Guests – be required to serve in whatever sexual ways her superiors may command. Through the working day hours, the body and mind that Master has bought are used in many, varied ways, so the body remains fit, agile, and supple, the mind alert and focused on its duties.

Well written account of a slaves day

 

[Eulalia]

Sad news

Praefectus Praetorio communicated with both of us frequently, and told us a good deal about his 'real life' self. Becoming seriously concerned when he hadn't returned a couple of weeks after he'd said he'd be away from the Forums for a few days, Barb did some searching and found an obituary for a gentleman who died unexpectedly on 5th December, the day after we last heard from Pr Pr. Sadly, the information in that obituary was sufficient to leave us in no doubt whatever that it was our friend who has passed away.

He was a good man, highly intelligent and widely read, sincere and quietly passionate in his beliefs and principles, a lively, witty contributor to the life of Crux Forums, and his superbly written stories will be a treasured memorial to him here.

Barb and Eul

Although I've contributed a little to this story, and was enjoying helping Pr Pr with my perspective on what's entailed in being a 'natural' slavegirl, it was very much his, and it's only right to close it now, as one more of the fine stories he's given us - for me, and I think for others here, a very special one.

 

[Loinclothslave]

I thought this was the most beautiful story of C/nc slavery ever written. Amazing insight into what makes those of us with perverted kinky slave-souls tick. A real triumph and I miss my friend deeply. More writing talent in his left pinky than I have at all. He helped me become better and mentored me from early in my time here. It will not be the same without him, but at least we have his beautiful detailed tomes!

Vale dearest friend

 

[Beate]

We have his written works and they will accompany us for years to come. So we also honour his memory and that is definitely worth it.
Take care, old master of the word, wherever you are now.

 

[Eulalia]

I admit it's taken a few days before I felt ready to look again at the PM in which Pr Pr and I were planning this story. In the days before he passed away, he had drafted the next chapter, in six sections. Reading them through, I'm confident that he was reasonably happy with them himself, he was only waiting for me to post the two that I did publish, 19 and 20 above, and to offer any suggestions. I've decided that I should share them in their 'final draft' form, just as he left them. So here is the first part:

Part IV – Terce (Third Hour; Mid-Morning or Day’s Start)
The time of day when the Holy Spirit descended on the disciples at Pentecost; a time of private prayer and learning.

Chapter Seven - The Novice
For the postulant Jessie, Terce is her period of intense study and training for admittance into slavery. The work will be ceaseless and the pressure intense. Mistakes shall be harshly corrected.

21. Home for a New Slave
The first twenty-four hours after her initiation was a frantic whirlwind for Jessie. Settling into her new life in the community center wasn't allowed to distract from the rigorous training schedule. This time's mental and physical pressure was intended to break any ties to her former, free life and immerse her in the structured routine of a slave.

After that first lunch, Sapphira had assigned the slave who had recited the Law, Ophelia, to show the new girl around the Center and explain the few simple aspects of her new living arrangement. Jessie immediately took to this slave. Ophelia was tall and thin with small breasts, a flat tummy, and long, sturdy legs. Her eyes grabbed your attention at once with a bottomless brown flash of light and lovely eyebrows. Complementing the open, friendly look of her eyes was her quiet and gentle disposition. When the Supervisor introduced them, she treated the new slave like a welcome new family member.

Ophelia led the way on a brief tour of the facility, explaining the function of each part. The building was rectangular and had an open-air court in the Center. One of the four sides included the Refectory (also called the Frater) or eating hall where they had eaten lunch, as well as the Kitchens, Buttery, and Larder.

The next side was closest to the main entrance and was called the Chapter Hall. Jessie gazed in awe at the large room that most resembled a ballroom set up for dance. The floor was all polished mahogany, and the walls were lined with mirrors which made the space seem almost infinite with the multiple reflections. Simple ebony columns supported the narrowed second level, painted a royal blue with gold fleurs de lis. It rose very high to a row of clerestory windows ringing the ceiling. The ceiling, covered with almost black plaster, was festooned with many spotlights directed to the floor. Ophelia explained that this was one of the two sacred parts of the Center, the place of practice, exercise, and performance of slave girl position and movement. Jessie felt as if it were a beautiful cathedral.

The two next came to the third wing, opposite the Refectory. This wing contained the Lavatorium or washing space and the Dorter, or dormitory where the slave cells were. In the Dorter, the hallway split into two parts, each lined with rows of cells. Ophelia counted down the numbers until 23. "This cell is for you while you are in training,"

Overcome with emotion at the sight of her new "home," Jessie stepped slowly into the sparsely furnished place with tears in her eyes. Six feet wide and seven feet deep, the cell was lined with whitewashed plastered walls and one tiny window, high on the far side, well beyond her height. On the floor, against that wall, lay a plain linen pallet, thinly stuffed with straw. Neatly folded on the "bed" was a large towel. Besides this, there was no furniture or clothing in the room. Set into a side wall, about two feet off the floor, was a small ledge. On this were a leather-bound book and a fat candle. Ophelia explained that this was "The Rule" and that Jessie should use every spare moment of her time studying and memorizing it.

At last, Ophelia guided Jessie to the fourth wing, which contained the Cellarium or store-room and the Misericord, or Punishment Room. Ophelia would not take Jessie in there. "It is the most sacred space in the Center. A slave may only enter there when brought by a Master or his Vicar. It is designed with thin walls and ventilation ducts that lead to the rest of the Center. That way, the screams of a slave there may be heard by all for instruction and enjoyment." Next to the Misericord, Ophelia pointed out the Calefactory. She explained that it was the only part of the Center, besides the kitchens, with heating and cooling so that Visiting Masters might relax comfortably there. There was a small section off from this space, the Infirmary, where a slave who was not well after correction could be placed for after-care and avoid common, after-correction, hypothermia.

 

[Fossy]

I admit it's taken a few days before I felt ready to look again at the PM in which Pr Pr and I were planning this story. In the days before he passed away, he had drafted the next chapter, in six sections. Reading them through, I'm confident that he was reasonably happy with them himself, he was only waiting for me to post the two that I did publish, 19 and 20 above, and to offer any suggestions. I've decided that I should share them in their 'final draft' form, just as he left them. So here is the first part:

Part IV – Terce (Third Hour; Mid-Morning or Day’s Start)
The time of day when the Holy Spirit descended on the disciples at Pentecost; a time of private prayer and learning.

Chapter Seven - The Novice
For the postulant Jessie, Terce is her period of intense study and training for admittance into slavery. The work will be ceaseless and the pressure intense. Mistakes shall be harshly corrected.

21. Home for a New Slave
The first twenty-four hours after her initiation was a frantic whirlwind for Jessie. Settling into her new life in the community center wasn't allowed to distract from the rigorous training schedule. This time's mental and physical pressure was intended to break any ties to her former, free life and immerse her in the structured routine of a slave.

After that first lunch, Sapphira had assigned the slave who had recited the Law, Ophelia, to show the new girl around the Center and explain the few simple aspects of her new living arrangement. Jessie immediately took to this slave. Ophelia was tall and thin with small breasts, a flat tummy, and long, sturdy legs. Her eyes grabbed your attention at once with a bottomless brown flash of light and lovely eyebrows. Complementing the open, friendly look of her eyes was her quiet and gentle disposition. When the Supervisor introduced them, she treated the new slave like a welcome new family member.

Ophelia led the way on a brief tour of the facility, explaining the function of each part. The building was rectangular and had an open-air court in the Center. One of the four sides included the Refectory (also called the Frater) or eating hall where they had eaten lunch, as well as the Kitchens, Buttery, and Larder.

The next side was closest to the main entrance and was called the Chapter Hall. Jessie gazed in awe at the large room that most resembled a ballroom set up for dance. The floor was all polished mahogany, and the walls were lined with mirrors which made the space seem almost infinite with the multiple reflections. Simple ebony columns supported the narrowed second level, painted a royal blue with gold fleurs de lis. It rose very high to a row of clerestory windows ringing the ceiling. The ceiling, covered with almost black plaster, was festooned with many spotlights directed to the floor. Ophelia explained that this was one of the two sacred parts of the Center, the place of practice, exercise, and performance of slave girl position and movement. Jessie felt as if it were a beautiful cathedral.

The two next came to the third wing, opposite the Refectory. This wing contained the Lavatorium or washing space and the Dorter, or dormitory where the slave cells were. In the Dorter, the hallway split into two parts, each lined with rows of cells. Ophelia counted down the numbers until 23. "This cell is for you while you are in training,"

Overcome with emotion at the sight of her new "home," Jessie stepped slowly into the sparsely furnished place with tears in her eyes. Six feet wide and seven feet deep, the cell was lined with whitewashed plastered walls and one tiny window, high on the far side, well beyond her height. On the floor, against that wall, lay a plain linen pallet, thinly stuffed with straw. Neatly folded on the "bed" was a large towel. Besides this, there was no furniture or clothing in the room. Set into a side wall, about two feet off the floor, was a small ledge. On this were a leather-bound book and a fat candle. Ophelia explained that this was "The Rule" and that Jessie should use every spare moment of her time studying and memorizing it.

At last, Ophelia guided Jessie to the fourth wing, which contained the Cellarium or store-room and the Misericord, or Punishment Room. Ophelia would not take Jessie in there. "It is the most sacred space in the Center. A slave may only enter there when brought by a Master or his Vicar. It is designed with thin walls and ventilation ducts that lead to the rest of the Center. That way, the screams of a slave there may be heard by all for instruction and enjoyment." Next to the Misericord, Ophelia pointed out the Calefactory. She explained that it was the only part of the Center, besides the kitchens, with heating and cooling so that Visiting Masters might relax comfortably there. There was a small section off from this space, the Infirmary, where a slave who was not well after correction could be placed for after-care and avoid common, after-correction, hypothermia.

Thank you for sharing Eul. Very poignant ...

 

[Eulalia]

22. Study

Ophelia led Jessie out into the central courtyard, surrounded by a colonnaded cloister. In the open space were neatly laid out vegetable gardens. About a half-dozen naked slave girls were hard at work tending the plantings. Their toned bodies glistened with sweat from the demanding job in the mid-day sun. Not one looked up for a moment at the pair walking by but kept their attention firmly on their work.

They went back into the Dorter and to the cell assigned to Jessie. "I am instructed to leave you here and to tell you to begin your study of the Rule. Later, you will be called when another training is required."

“How long have you been in training?” asked Jessie. She wanted a moment more with the one person she knew slightly in this place.

"I completed my training about a year ago, and my Master generously took me into his house – Master be Praised for his kindness! I am here for a week of refresher training and correction."

“Thank you, Ophelia,” said Jessie, taking the other’s hand. Ophelia gave the new girl a warm hug and said, “I am only obeying my orders. May you find the deep joy that I have in this place and with your Master.”

Jessie looked around her cell again. Its very simplicity and Spartan emptiness gave her a feeling of security and contentment. When you have no possessions, you have no fear of losing them. She also thought that was good because her cell, like all the others, had no door. A slave had neither possessions to steal nor privacy to invade.

Following her instruction from Ophelia, the girl turned to the book on the ledge. It was clear that the intended way to read and to study was on your knees. Jessie felt the cold stone floor meet her with a painful hardness as she sank gently to her knees. Trying (only partially successfully) to ignore the discomfort, Jessie ran her fingers over the embossed leather of the cover. She again felt that sensual tingling in the tips of her fingers, moving quickly into her body. Was it the actual texture of the hide, or was it love and respect for what was inside? Assuming the latter, Jessie opened the book with the greatest of reverence and care. Past the Title page was an extensive Table of Contents, listing all the multiple aspects of a slave’s life and where to find the rules for each. Remembering Master Thomas’s quotation of Chapter 8, Section 2, Jessie turned to that page in the Chapter, “Sexual Service of your Master and his Guests,” and the section, “Proactive offering of Sexual Services.” There she read, “Not only must a slave be always available for the sexual desires of her Master and his Guests, but she must attempt to anticipate their needs and desire to the extent possible. Therefore, when confronted with the sexual weapon of the Master, the slave will always hasten to ask permission to serve his pleasure.”

As Jessie read those words, she felt a definite dampening of her girly parts. How she yearned for the time when she would see her Master’s cock for the first time and beg to service it!

 

[Loinclothslave]

What a beautiful gift @Praefectus Praetorio has left us! I miss him terribly, yet to see these drafts is to hear him speak once more. Thank you so much for sharing these, @Eulalia , they are a treasure.

And the depth of feeling Jessie has for her enslavement touched me so much. The strict structure and simplicity of a life in servitude is conveyed wonderfully as is the convincing way Jessie is attracted to it.

 

[Eulalia]

23. The Law and the Rule

A couple of hours later, Jessie's eyes were watering, and her vision was blurring from the unrelenting concentration on the book of the Rule. It was not from compulsion or fear that she had read and studied so diligently. It was a fascination with the world that this book opened up to her. The opening section had enthralled her, and she couldn't stop reading. The statement and explanation of the Law touched something deep in her being:

"This slave shall Fear, Love, and Trust her Master above all others."

"What does this mean?"

“This means that the slave fears her Master and His displeasure. She does so due to the pain that He can inflict. But also so that she must focus her mind on Him and His desires. Pleasing Him must be her strongest desire.

In turn, the slave 'loves' her Master without limit. She accepts that she has nothing and is nothing; she only has food and shelter to survive by His kindness and care.

Finally, the slave trusts her Master in all things. She has confidence that He shall make the right decisions for her and do what is suitable for her. This trust should be a source of infinite comfort for the slave.”

Jessie closed her eyes and thought of those words. She was sure that she had never heard a greater truth in her whole life.

Just as the light was fading from the tiny window and Jessie thought of lighting her candle to continue reading, she heard a high-pitched chime ring twelve times. Then there was movement at the doorway. Turning, she saw Ophelia. Her face brightened to see a friend.
“Postulant, that is the chime for supper. Please come at once."

On the way to the Refectory, Ophelia explained the procedure.
"The Rule requires a prompt response to the chimes. The slaves assemble, and if one is late, all suffer. We line up for the meal in order of our time as a slave. You, as a postulant, will be at the very end. Follow the lead of the others, and you will do fine."

"Thank you for your help," said Jessie, feeling genuine gratitude and affection for this girl.

"I am just doing my Master's will," the other replied, but with a slight smile of appreciation.

"A slave should never speak on her own unless necessary for her assigned task. Always regard another slave as superior to you. Small talk is never allowed unless explicitly ordered by a Master."

Jessie nodded and felt corrected. There was so much Rule to learn.

"You are not a slave yet and therefore are only partially under the Rule. You may ask questions, sparingly, to learn. And we may talk, again sparingly, to further your education and acceptance. However, slaves are forbidden to be friends." Ophelia said the last looking into the postulant's eyes. Jessie thought she saw a touch of regret on the other girl's face.
Soon they were outside the Refectory where all the resident slaves were gathering. Jessie wordlessly took her place at the back of the line and followed the others inside for the meal.

After supper, when the Supervisor dismissed the other slaves, she told Jessie to remain. She asked the postulant about what Ophelia had shown and told her. Jessie tried to answer completely yet concisely. She was glad when Sapphira seemed pleased with her answers.

 

[Loinclothslave]

Fear, Love, and Trust

Such a great slave catechism. When I told him how much it moved me, PrPr mentioned it was straight from a Calvinist prayer - obviously substituted Master for Lord God,..

He wove a deep and well thought out tapestry. I’m so glad I thanked him.

This chapter is superb in it’s ordinariness. Just a first day of learning and respect for protocol. A slave’s life can be one of joyous simplicity- part of it’s attraction.

 

[Eulalia]

24. Practice and Discipline

“We shall work on your positions more. You have only made the most clumsy start so far,” said the Supervisor. We shall go to the Chapter Hall. It is there that the sacred position ritual is best taught and performed.”

Jessie, with head bowed, followed Sapphira to the Chapter Hall. Once there, the Supervisor put her through the first five positions, carefully aligning her body and limbs to the exact form. Jessie's long experience in dance training (one of her first opportunities in life to submit to a real discipline – she had loved the rigor) put her in good stead to learn body position control. Again, the Supervisor seemed pleased. However, even with a willing student, the going was slow as the instructor insisted that each position be assumed precisely to the model. Every error was swiftly punished. After several hours of this, Jessie’s body sported several bruises, and her muscles and joints ached, and her skin gleamed with sweat. Then, three long, low chimes sounded.

“Those are the chimes for bedtime, postulant,” said Sapphira, “you have ten minutes to be in your bed. Go first to the cell given you, grab your towel and hurry to the Lavatorium. Run under the showers – you will want to, they are very cold – dry with your towel and return to your bed. There will be one low chime to mark the end of our day. If you are not in your bed by the sound of the chime, you must go to the end of the hall and report your failure to the slave watcher there. Do you understand?"

“Yes, Supervisor. May I go now?”

Sapphira paused a moment and then said, “Yes.” The girl took off at a trot.
Despite her best efforts, Jessie got slightly lost and then fumbled, picking up her towel. When she went through the shower, the ice-cold water on her warm, sweaty skin was like an electric shock. Jes was only to the door of her cell when the last chime sounded. Disappointed at failing so soon in her efforts, she trudged down the hall where an older slave was sitting on a chair with a writing pad.

“Postulant Jessie was late to her bed,” she said, head bowed. She remembered Ophelia’s instruction that every slave should feel inferior to every other.

“Recorded,” replied the other. “You shall be informed of your punishment.”

Jessie hurried back to her cell and bed. She drew the damp towel over her for some slight warmth in the cold space. Despite the hardship and pain of the day and cold shivers shaking her body, the girl dozed off smiling. She had entered her new life.

Less than an hour later, Jessie woke from a deep sleep as a hand shook her shoulder. Looking up, she saw the slave watcher in the dimness.

“Hurry, get up! "Master Thomas has sent me. He awaits you at the Misericord. Come immediately, or we both will be punished!” she turned and hurried from the cell, expecting Jessie to follow.

Shaking the cobwebs from her mind, the girl did so, rushing to catch up. She felt shivers throughout her body. There was excitement at meeting Master Thomas. Also, there was fear as she would experience the punishment room for the first time.

When they met Thomas at the door to Misericord, the slave watcher gave the Master a deep bow and backed away. The Master opened the door and waved Jessie in.

The well-lit space beyond the door was a long hall running parallel to the outer hall. Wall sconces brightly lit the space, but the surfaces were all dark gray. Five entries were set in the far wall with strange symbols over them. Master Thomas walked down to the right, expecting the postulant to follow. He opened the last door and entered. Once Jessie was inside, he shut the door, which closed and latched with a deep thud. Before the girl could examine the new surroundings, the Master ordered, "Display Position."

Jessie spread her legs, thrust her chest forward, and placed her hands behind her lowered head.

“Well done for your first day. I can tell Sapphira has been working you well," he said, glancing at the multiple bruises on her body. “For the moment, I wish to see your understanding of what I say. So, maintain that position, but raise your eyes to look at me.”
As she obeyed, Jessie had her first chance to examine Master Thomas's face up close. She was surprised at how young he looked, less than her age. Though he wore a serious expression, there was a kindly look in his eyes. He was not at all how she had envisioned Masters to be.

 

[Fossy]

24. Practice and Discipline

“We shall work on your positions more. You have only made the most clumsy start so far,” said the Supervisor. We shall go to the Chapter Hall. It is there that the sacred position ritual is best taught and performed.”

Jessie, with head bowed, followed Sapphira to the Chapter Hall. Once there, the Supervisor put her through the first five positions, carefully aligning her body and limbs to the exact form. Jessie's long experience in dance training (one of her first opportunities in life to submit to a real discipline – she had loved the rigor) put her in good stead to learn body position control. Again, the Supervisor seemed pleased. However, even with a willing student, the going was slow as the instructor insisted that each position be assumed precisely to the model. Every error was swiftly punished. After several hours of this, Jessie’s body sported several bruises, and her muscles and joints ached, and her skin gleamed with sweat. Then, three long, low chimes sounded.

“Those are the chimes for bedtime, postulant,” said Sapphira, “you have ten minutes to be in your bed. Go first to the cell given you, grab your towel and hurry to the Lavatorium. Run under the showers – you will want to, they are very cold – dry with your towel and return to your bed. There will be one low chime to mark the end of our day. If you are not in your bed by the sound of the chime, you must go to the end of the hall and report your failure to the slave watcher there. Do you understand?"

“Yes, Supervisor. May I go now?”

Sapphira paused a moment and then said, “Yes.” The girl took off at a trot.
Despite her best efforts, Jessie got slightly lost and then fumbled, picking up her towel. When she went through the shower, the ice-cold water on her warm, sweaty skin was like an electric shock. Jes was only to the door of her cell when the last chime sounded. Disappointed at failing so soon in her efforts, she trudged down the hall where an older slave was sitting on a chair with a writing pad.

“Postulant Jessie was late to her bed,” she said, head bowed. She remembered Ophelia’s instruction that every slave should feel inferior to every other.

“Recorded,” replied the other. “You shall be informed of your punishment.”

Jessie hurried back to her cell and bed. She drew the damp towel over her for some slight warmth in the cold space. Despite the hardship and pain of the day and cold shivers shaking her body, the girl dozed off smiling. She had entered her new life.

Less than an hour later, Jessie woke from a deep sleep as a hand shook her shoulder. Looking up, she saw the slave watcher in the dimness.

“Hurry, get up! "Master Thomas has sent me. He awaits you at the Misericord. Come immediately, or we both will be punished!” she turned and hurried from the cell, expecting Jessie to follow.

Shaking the cobwebs from her mind, the girl did so, rushing to catch up. She felt shivers throughout her body. There was excitement at meeting Master Thomas. Also, there was fear as she would experience the punishment room for the first time.

When they met Thomas at the door to Misericord, the slave watcher gave the Master a deep bow and backed away. The Master opened the door and waved Jessie in.

The well-lit space beyond the door was a long hall running parallel to the outer hall. Wall sconces brightly lit the space, but the surfaces were all dark gray. Five entries were set in the far wall with strange symbols over them. Master Thomas walked down to the right, expecting the postulant to follow. He opened the last door and entered. Once Jessie was inside, he shut the door, which closed and latched with a deep thud. Before the girl could examine the new surroundings, the Master ordered, "Display Position."

Jessie spread her legs, thrust her chest forward, and placed her hands behind her lowered head.

“Well done for your first day. I can tell Sapphira has been working you well," he said, glancing at the multiple bruises on her body. “For the moment, I wish to see your understanding of what I say. So, maintain that position, but raise your eyes to look at me.”
As she obeyed, Jessie had her first chance to examine Master Thomas's face up close. She was surprised at how young he looked, less than her age. Though he wore a serious expression, there was a kindly look in his eyes. He was not at all how she had envisioned Masters to be.

Thank you for continuing Eul, great stuff - and I have to say that 'Slave Watcher' is a job to be coveted for sure!

 

[Eulalia]

25. First Slave Discipline

"Jessie, you know that your Master has named me as one of your Guides through your training. As such, I am his Vicar and entitled to punish you as I see fit. Do you understand?"

“Yes, Master,” the girl replied with a slight tremble.

"You shall receive punishment in this space during your training. Some will be as corrections for errors. In those cases, we shall clearly explain your error so that you may learn. In other cases, it shall just be punishment for the sake of your pain. Now, I am going to punish you for your lateness to bed. However, I shall make it harsher than that infraction warrants. What is the first phrase of the Law?"

“This slave shall Fear her Master above all others.”

“Precisely. That is the purpose of punishment as you shall receive today. It will concentrate your thought on fear of the displeasure of your Master. That even a minor infraction may bring incredibly harsh punishment. You cannot rely on your concept of justice. It is only your Master's justice that matters. Come here.”

Thomas walked over to a sawhorse at the side of the room, Jessie following behind. The girl sneaked glances around the room. The walls appeared to be rough-cut, dark stone, and there was various equipment, most of which was unknown to her. Multiple torches mounted on the walls provided an ominous, flickering, orange light.

"Straddle the horse from this end," Thomas indicated the top bar, one inch thick and four inches deep. The rear two legs spread about three feet on the floor. This would place her weight on a very small area. Jessie mounted the horse. Even on tiptoe, her pudendum pressed hard against the wood top.

Once Jessie was in position, Thomas bent down and fastened her ankles in leather straps. Despite his gentle demeanor, he tightened the straps painfully, causing Jessie to gasp.

“No sounds yet, postulant. Never let out an expression of discomfort before the actual punishment begins. Bend forward and place your wrists by the front straps.”

The Master repeated the binding, and Jessie was stretched out, her whole weight resting on the narrow board. The position raised her ass slightly and spread her cheeks and legs enough to provide an open view of the cuntlips and asshole. The inexperienced girl blushed somewhat at the obscene display she made.

Thomas went to a cabinet and returned, holding a paddle. He held it before her eyes so she could closely examine the instrument of her torment. With a carved handle, a polished walnut rectangle, four inches by eight, the opposite end was capped by dull metal. Thomas explained that this was lead giving the weapon more heft. About a dozen one-inch diameter holes were drilled through the surface.

"Since you are new, you will receive only twenty strokes. Do you accept this punishment from your Master?"

“Yes, Sir,” replied Jessie with a clear break in her voice. She had practiced some self-punishment over the years. But this sounded far more severe.

“It is common practice that the punished one will count each stroke after delivered and then ask for more. Please use the phrase, ‘Thank you, Sir. May this slave please have another?’ Understand?”

“Yes, Master.”

Thomas gave her a sweet, approving smile and walked back to her rear. The girl waited with both fear and desire for her first punishment. Despite her tight bonds, Jessie still managed to squirm slightly on the sawhorse, grinding her pussylips against the hard, though smooth wood. She felt moisture again coating her inner lips and all her skin becoming exquisitely sensitive.

 

[Eulalia]

26. Pain and Self After Care

“Ask for the first,” she heard from the unseen Master.

“Please, Master, may this slave receive her first stroke?"

With no further warning or sound, the young man smashed the cruel paddle into the round and elevated left buttcheek with a loud smack that resounded in the hard-walled room. The powerful stroke sent a blinding pain into the soft flesh and up her nerves to the young girl's brain. Jessie sucked in a sudden gasp of air before letting out a muffled whimper.

Although Jessie had often dreamed of punishment, she had never experienced such a painful blow before, with the possible exception of some from the Supervisor earlier today. She trembled at the pain. But there was something other than pain. She felt an added warmth in her crotch and a quickening of her heart. The hurt was horrible, but she also wanted more.

"One, thank you, Sir. May this slave please have another?"

Almost before the words were out of her mouth, Thomas laid another, equally hard blow on her other cheek. Stars flashed in her vision, and her buttcheeks seemed to come alive with pain. She gritted her teeth for a few seconds and then said, in a strong voice, "Two, thank you, Sir. May this slave please have another?"

Master Thomas smiled with satisfaction. Jessie's butt was already bright pink, and a dozen faint blood blisters were beginning to form where the holes had caused the blood to pool from the impact of the wood. Those two strokes were two of the strongest he could give and must have caused immense pain. Yet, she had the courage to almost immediately beg for more. This girl did have grit, as he'd predicted. Master Benns was much older and more experienced, but Thomas had the superior judgment here.

He wound up and delivered this third stroke, not quite so devastating as the first two. He did not, after all, intend to damage the girl seriously. He only wanted to test her endurance. If the truth was told, he rather liked this spunky little thing.

"Owwaa." a small cry came from Jessie as the need to react to the pain was now impossible to resist. However, as soon as she drew in her next breath, she said:

"Three, thank you, Sir. May this slave please have another?"

By the time Thomas delivered ten strokes, Jessie was screaming with each blow at the top of her lungs. Thomas watched approvingly as he also saw her pussy rubbing nonstop against the hard top bar. Jessie was unaware of this spontaneous action as the delicious sexual feelings produced were overwhelmed by her rear's horrible pain.

When the last stroke was laid on, her screams had weakened, but the relentless pumping of her hips in pain and arousal was going on undiminished.

The Master allowed the slave five minutes to rest. He then checked her heart rate and was satisfied that it had recovered sufficiently. He untied her from the horse and helped her stand on unsteady legs.

“Can you make it back to your cell, or should I call another to help you?” asked Thomas in a soft and gentle voice.

Jessie took a deep breath and answered. "No, thank you, Sir. This girl will get there on her own."

"Good for you, postulant." He helped her to the door and out into the main hall. He watched her limp away with her ass all black and blue. Yes, he thought. She has grit.

When Jessie returned to her cell, she lay face down on her thin mat and tried to ride the continuing waves of pain from her rear. After a minute, as if of its own accord, her hand slipped down under her body to her crotch. The fingers sought about and began teasing her hot and erect clitoris. The postulant continued to apply her own after-care.

End of Chapter 7

 

[Barbaria1]

26. Pain and Self After Care

“Ask for the first,” she heard from the unseen Master.

“Please, Master, may this slave receive her first stroke?"

With no further warning or sound, the young man smashed the cruel paddle into the round and elevated left buttcheek with a loud smack that resounded in the hard-walled room. The powerful stroke sent a blinding pain into the soft flesh and up her nerves to the young girl's brain. Jessie sucked in a sudden gasp of air before letting out a muffled whimper.

Although Jessie had often dreamed of punishment, she had never experienced such a painful blow before, with the possible exception of some from the Supervisor earlier today. She trembled at the pain. But there was something other than pain. She felt an added warmth in her crotch and a quickening of her heart. The hurt was horrible, but she also wanted more.

"One, thank you, Sir. May this slave please have another?"

Almost before the words were out of her mouth, Thomas laid another, equally hard blow on her other cheek. Stars flashed in her vision, and her buttcheeks seemed to come alive with pain. She gritted her teeth for a few seconds and then said, in a strong voice, "Two, thank you, Sir. May this slave please have another?"

Master Thomas smiled with satisfaction. Jessie's butt was already bright pink, and a dozen faint blood blisters were beginning to form where the holes had caused the blood to pool from the impact of the wood. Those two strokes were two of the strongest he could give and must have caused immense pain. Yet, she had the courage to almost immediately beg for more. This girl did have grit, as he'd predicted. Master Benns was much older and more experienced, but Thomas had the superior judgment here.

He wound up and delivered this third stroke, not quite so devastating as the first two. He did not, after all, intend to damage the girl seriously. He only wanted to test her endurance. If the truth was told, he rather liked this spunky little thing.

"Owwaa." a small cry came from Jessie as the need to react to the pain was now impossible to resist. However, as soon as she drew in her next breath, she said:

"Three, thank you, Sir. May this slave please have another?"

By the time Thomas delivered ten strokes, Jessie was screaming with each blow at the top of her lungs. Thomas watched approvingly as he also saw her pussy rubbing nonstop against the hard top bar. Jessie was unaware of this spontaneous action as the delicious sexual feelings produced were overwhelmed by her rear's horrible pain.

When the last stroke was laid on, her screams had weakened, but the relentless pumping of her hips in pain and arousal was going on undiminished.

The Master allowed the slave five minutes to rest. He then checked her heart rate and was satisfied that it had recovered sufficiently. He untied her from the horse and helped her stand on unsteady legs.

“Can you make it back to your cell, or should I call another to help you?” asked Thomas in a soft and gentle voice.

Jessie took a deep breath and answered. "No, thank you, Sir. This girl will get there on her own."

"Good for you, postulant." He helped her to the door and out into the main hall. He watched her limp away with her ass all black and blue. Yes, he thought. She has grit.

When Jessie returned to her cell, she lay face down on her thin mat and tried to ride the continuing waves of pain from her rear. After a minute, as if of its own accord, her hand slipped down under her body to her crotch. The fingers sought about and began teasing her hot and erect clitoris. The postulant continued to apply her own after-care.

End of Chapter 7

Breathtaking prose! I could almost feel it.