Life as a Slave, a Downside - slave girl sara
I just wanted do a few lines for you all but in particular for you trainee subs and slaves, young men or young ladies I suppose, this message is mainly for you.
My life as a girl born into serving, as in the community in which like many other girls live, have been the happiest times ever for the most part with obviously the odd exception.
One such exception was this last few days and I have not been asked to write this but felt I had to, not even shown it Sir for checking or editing
A few days ago I met someone online, gender unimportant really but it was a European girl.
She had contacted Sir about some advice, he helped her and told her to contact me for a few other bits, girly stuff!
We hit it off, as friends pretty quick, she was just a few months older than me but she did not wish to be called Miss.
I suggested her using a BDSM contact site I use as a base to try and find the particular partner she was wanting.
To cut a long story short, she could not join from her country maybe, so as a surprise I created a profile for her.
I spelt her name wrong, never capitalised it, never changed her sex to a woman from man and worst of all I lost the password.
I finally found the password and discovered the site charges for changes to name, spelling and gender.
It was not a happy time; she was so cross.
Instead of making her happy she was so annoyed and sad.
That made me sad and upset too, a couple of emails backwards and forwards and the atmosphere between us worsened and looking back it was if I was not blaming myself, so it had to be her I was blaming.
Yesterday lunch time I asked Sir if I could visit his office after work, he told me five thirty.
We both knew I was going to be punished, him because I had asked to see him and me because I knew I was in the wrong and needed to pay for my actions.
I skipped lunch, and work and went and lay on my bed, I cried a bit and slept a bit and cried a bit more.
My phone bleeped at five o'clock so I showered and waited outside his office at five twenty five.
He came down the corridor, opened the door and let me in, pulled out his chair and I sat on his knee.
I had obviously confirmed to him I needed a hiding, being naked.
He just sat and listened as I told him everything in between tears and sobs.
He held me so tight and loving, my love, protection and security never felt stronger.
I finished my story and just sat a while embracing what I had before standing and spreading over Sirs knee.
I did not want or need a spanking at that time, I needed to be taught the consequence of my past actions.
I wanted every smack, whack and whoosh to make me suffer as I had made others suffer.