by John Norman
Remember that the slave is not a free woman. She is a property, a domestic animal, a lovely beast whom you are kind enough to domicile, keeping her about for your service and pleasure.
You wish to get the most out of her.
How then should she be treated?
As she is an animal, the answer to that is obvious.
She is, in all respects, and without qualification, to be wholly and perfectly mastered.
On such matters there is no temporizing or concessions.
If she is not fully pleasing, do not hesitate to use the whip on her.
Remember, she is not a free woman.
She is a slave.
****
So, dear reader, remember that the master is all, and you are nothing. You may love him. And perhaps he may love you. As a female slave you will live the most degraded and the most beautiful of lives. You will know pleasures forever beyond the ken of the free woman.
It is not strange that a woman loves best in a collar. In a collar she is most a woman.
Love and serve your masters.
It is what you are for, sweet slut.
Do not forget to wear your tunic well, and keep the collar lock at the back of your neck.
After all, you do not wish to be whipped.
I wish you well.
I now close this narrative.
I kiss my finger tips and touch my collar. It has been put on me by my master, whom I love. I am his slave. I desire to serve him. I would die for him.
I wonder if any of you can understand this, or if it merely seems puzzling, alien, incomprehensible. But I think you understand it; these things may be deep, but they are not that strange, or unfamiliar. They are very close to us, to all of us.
And so I have come a long way. I am no longer on Earth. I have returned to the biological heritage of my sex. I have learned to call men “Master,” for, as I am a woman, and they are true men, they are master to me. I pity my sisters who do not know the collar. How incomplete they are. I have been the most free of the free, or thought myself such, and am now amongst the most enslaved of the enslaved, and am yet, because of that, the most free of the free, the truly free, for I am no longer at war with myself. I am now one with my nature. I have at last come home, come home to myself, to the deepest truths of my being. I am at my master’s feet. It is where I belong. May I prove pleasing to him, my master!
Behold, I hear him approach!
I must hasten to the door, to meet him there, to kneel before him!
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