The Making of a Slave-Some Thoughts
Below are a few thoughts on what makes a slave. It is really an attempt to understand myself and Madame Catarina’s ownership of me. Basically I guess I’m asking why do some of us crave ownership and domination? Are we born that way or are we made?
I remember as a young child reading a TV Comic 21 Star Trek story…This is the 1960s in the UK…in it, members of the crew where subject to some sort brainwashing ray …this idea really excited me. I’m not quite sure why and this was way before puberty. I had the same sort of thrill when reading about the White Witch in Narnia or the Snow Queen.
A Roman Catholic upbringing must have had an effect…possibly developing the natural inclination for adoration, veneration and a need to worship….I’m not sure. I think the idea of being unworthy played its part…just generally unworthy…and the nuns nurtured a respect and obedience for women….So I guess I was always inclined this way….a strange fascination with mind control, a need to venerate and worship, feelings of inferiority and a learnt respect and obedience for women…sometimes reinforced through corporal punishment.
It is probably a nonsense to cherry pick influences like this…although it is easy to see how the ritualistic aspects, the zeal for thought control, the engendering of unworthiness and the importance of veneration of Catholicism could be influential…maybe I have a lot to thank the Roman Catholic church for? They may have well unwittingly helped form the basis of my slave soul!
Adolescence was for me (Just like it is for everyone)…a confused time. The awakening of sexual desire was always inextricably linked with feelings of unworthiness and feelings that sexual thoughts where unclean. I’m not sure when but stockings, heels, leather and boots took an early hold of my adolescent imagination…these transformed the women who wore them into beautiful goddesses I could worship from afar…I desperately wanted these goddesses to control me and my dreams were full of Amazonian types enslaving me as whips and chains came to have as much a significance as the leather, stockings and heels. As a 13 year old my ideal woman was Catwoman. As played my Julie Newmar in the 1960’s Batman series…she had a very strange effect upon me. Once again it all centred around serving a beautiful woman…and not a woman who would be grateful…a woman who would use and discard me…and she carried a whip. It seems pretty obvious how this fuelled my teenage imagination!
There was a lot of (on reflection) BDSM imagery about in TV programmes suitable for children!
Around this time I began to develop strange rituals in which I pledged my allegiance to these faraway goddesses, I remember a Poster of Olivia Newton John wearing tight black leather trousers and high heels…I would ritualistically kneel before the poster and kiss her heels and bum before ejaculating into a jar….I made up prayer like chants offering myself to these deities and pleading with them to make me theirs…Most of my fantasies at this time involved being enslaved to a beautiful girl or woman.
Also at this time I was developing crushes on girls at my school- inevitably the girls who wore high heels and all the time I never felt confident enough to approach them. I would dream of my being naked whilst they remained fully clothed ordering me to do things, these dreams usually ended with my kneeling before them.
As I grew out of adolescence and toward adulthood my fantasies remained but were somewhat subsumed by vanilla life, a need for social acceptance and my first proper girlfriend, the under confidence continued and I had grave doubts to whether my longing for domination was ‘normal’ or acceptable. I tried to gently steer sex in this direction with my girlfriend but this was met with bewilderment and a tinge of disgust (it was only cunnilingus). There were several other relationships which followed a similar pattern and my fantasies remained just that…fantasies. By my late teens and early twenties my fantasies were pretty much well developed. I was transfixed by high heels, stockings and suspenders, basques, whips, collars and leads and of course thigh boots and leather. My mind became magpie like catching snippets from everywhere and incorporating them into my fantasies.
I continued my vanilla life, repressing these fantasies for a long time, playing out roles in my head, desperately trying to gauge how a partner felt about S&M, always subtly trying to steer our sex this way in the hope she would discover a deep seated love of domination. A fruitless task and I became increasingly fascinated with images of female domination and purchased a handful of magazines. As is the way with such things, the magazine opened my eyes to a whole new world of fetish. I began to dream of bondage, pain, slave milking and water sports…this was a world I desperately wanted to enter…but did not. By this time I had commitments.
Like many others the advent of the internet flamed my desire still further… it was great to see so many images and stories but even more importantly it was finding out that I was not the only person to have these feelings and that there was a whole community of largely sane and well-adjusted members of society who shared this passion. Any investigation of the scene needn’t involve seedy backstreet dives, PO Box numbers or nasty surprises…it was now relatively easy to contact a mistress.
My first forays into the scene were pretty pathetic…a few e-mail enquiries, a couple of phone calls…revealing that this was all actually real…there was a mistress in Manchester who would do this, another in London who had this equipment and another elsewhere who specialised in this or that fetish. Sorry to those mistresses I contacted in those early days…it may be of consolation to them to know that those early e-mails and phone calls fuelled an already overheated desire. I knew that at some point I would have to take the plunge so I began to consult web forums and made a systematic sweep of UK mistresses’ websites…having fantasized for so many years about the scene I wanted to make sure my first experience was the best it could be.
In a way I wanted my experience to be pretty negative or neutral. I could then give up on these fantasies and be content with my vanilla life. I was afraid on several levels…obviously there was fear for my personal safety, meeting a stranger, being restrained…what could go wrong! There was also a more substantial and it became apparent more well-founded fear: I was scared the experience would live up to my expectations, that somehow the mistress would unlock something within me that could not be put back in the box…and this is exactly what happened…
My first session exceeded my expectations….I had spoken to the mistress at length on the phone and via e-mail and she was incredibly understanding and put me at my ease. When I first laid eyes upon her there was no doubt in my mind that I had made the right decision…Those feelings I felt my first time in the presence of a professional dominatrix in full fetish dress will stay with me forever…that sense of nervous vulnerability and fear mixed with sexual arousal with an unremitting desire to be utterly controlled and dominated. I remember kneeling naked waiting for her return gazing at all the S&M paraphernalia not knowing what half of it was for…but wanting find out!…Everything was new to me in that session and only on occasion did I fully envelope myself in the experience- having said that there were moments of bliss and inklings of understanding-I had my first tastes of the power of a mistress and being the helpless slave-and I knew I wanted more…it was like a spiritual awakening- something that had long been a part of me had been unleashed and there was a whole world of experience to discover and try this was only the beginning of the journey .I had taken my first steps and had no idea where they would lead but I knew I had to enter deeper into this new world and deeper into my own soul to find whatever it was I truly sought.
For various practical reasons I never re-visited that first mistress…in a way it is a pity but it also kept those first experiences unsullied as it were by any subsequent disappointments. Instead there were a series of disappointing sessions. Sessions in which I failed to connect with the mistress for various reasons; sometimes it just didn’t happen, on other occasions the mistress was really only into dressing up, shouting and taking the money. I was learning that leather and whips do not a mistress make. I quickly learnt that much of what I was experiencing was mostly window dressing with no real substance. Also, I had experienced something special and magical, something that I wished to recapture and develop further.
Now fuelled with a self-knowledge previously lacking and hosts of new and exciting ideas gleaned from the internet I was eager to develop my slave self. I wanted to experience more and more. I now dreamt of CBT, nipple torture, trampling, breath play, strap on, mummification, water sports, spitting, etc…..
I also had several really good experiences in which I made a connection with the mistress and caught glimpses of what I had always sought. These were always with mistresses with whom I had got on well with on a personal level on the phone, via e-mail or in pre session chats.
There was one Mistress in particular with whom I made a powerful connection. She was a mistress whom I had seen in my magazines many years before and who had fuelled my fantasies. I really felt that I had found my mistress and our sessions were very intense and I could sense my mistress enjoying herself. I was introduced to the joys of water sports, body worship and eating my cum from her boots.
The sessions were marvellous and she used me and enjoyed using me. However, whilst the sessions were great as soon as I walked out of her chambers things returned to normal…I felt no different. Well that is a lie…I felt elated from just experiencing such wonderful session but there was no residue of her control accompanying me into my vanilla life. I realised I wanted more, that I had always wanted more …I wanted to become a slave on a deeper level.
For quite a while it had been dawning on me that what I really craved was not the boots, the stockings, the whips or the leather. It was not becoming a human toilet, the nipple clamps, the CBT or even the bondage. It was being dominated and controlled and the desire to please my mistress that excited me. Obviously I enjoyed all the trappings but at the core was this desperate desire to give myself utterly and completely to my mistress, to exist only for her and to willingly undergo pain and humiliation for her amusement. What I really wanted was to renounce freewill and become the property of a mistress who would truly own me…I would become her property, an object for her to use however and whenever she pleased.
Feeling this way I knew that I was not really free to give any mistress my complete and full devotion as there was another mistress who haunted my dreams and fantasies and had done since 2003.
By 2003 I was no longer a novice as I was already visiting mistresses in the UK. I had accepted my slave self as an essential part of who I am and indulged this part of me periodically when chance would allow and when the fantasies became all consuming. I had to go to Berlin on business and although unlikely that I would have any spare time I thought I would just take a quick look to see which mistresses were operating in Berlin…This was a decision that has changed my life completely.
Firstly, you cannot have a quick look at mistresses in Berlin….however, I came across a website for Studio Tartarus and on this website was a mistress called Madame Catarina. I bookmarked the page and downloaded all the images of Madame Catarina I could). I searched the net and found another Madame Catarina website and repeated the exercise. I tried desperately to become a member of Studio Tartus but to no avail .I was in UK so couldn’t provide acceptable ID.
From that moment on Madame Catarina was in my heart and soul. I do not know why she had such an impact on me but it was if she reached out to me through her photos and touched my slave heart and made it hers. From that moment on I belonged to her…even though I didn’t know it. Very quickly she took the lead role in all my fantasies and without her knowledge became my teacher. As Madame Catarina left Studio Tartus and developed her own website I became an avid fan. When she started to make movies I purchased every one and with each new movie my fascination grew. Madame Catarina introduced me to many fetishes and practices I had never considered before or had recoiled from. Again and again I marvelled at the power she had over her slaves and longed to experience such domination and control. In my slave self, Madame Catarina found a receptive audience for her movies. The movies informed my fantasies but also my sessions with other mistresses as my list of interests grew as I tried to recapture what Madame Catarina had with her slaves with various mistresses.
I began to write to Madame Catarina to thank her for her inspiration and to send her gifts as a token of my thanks. My devotion to all things Madame Catarina doubled when she began to use these items in her movies, a book here, a pair of boots there, a whole outfit….Having worshipped Madame Catarina from afar for several years and having been in occasional e-mail contact for a few more I finally plucked up the courage to organise a session.
Never one to rush into things the ten year delay was a bit excessive even for me. The reason for the delay are legion…life circumstances, played a large part but also fear. I was afraid on three counts: Firstly, a constant fear on meeting a new mistress that she would really hurt me…as a real life sadist I was genuinely scared what she might do to me. Secondly, I was afraid that the session would be a disappointment, that we would not click for some reason….maybe my expectations were unrealistic…and thirdly, that she would be all I imagined, that she would reach into my slave soul and make me hers…that all my dreams would come true and my life would change forever.
Within seconds of entering Madame Catarina’s chambers my life had changed forever. My earliest stirrings of excitement with the snow queen and others, my adolescent fantasies of serving a beautiful woman through to my adult development as a slave all came to fruition in this moment.
Within seconds I was crawling on all fours kissing and licking her heels and that is roughly where this blog and my new life as the property of Madame Catarina begins.