Confession By Silk

i met Her on gor.. and for many years i heeled behind Her. Always

learning always growing...not just as the broad shouldered boy atella.. but as the typist...The more She asked the deeper by submission grew and the more profound my Love became..

The life of the kajuris, the male slave, on gor is a hard one.. universal hated, strictly limited in scope and action.. but it did not matter to me.. i was Her's and wore with burring pride and overwhelming joy... Her collar..

There were always problems. .. Friends.. the most lofty of Ubra's and Ubra's.. to the lowest of kettle slaves.. could not understand why i obyed Her in all instances and with such devotion.

"your making it hard on yourself:.. they would refrain in endless choruses. .." life would be so much easier if you would just Do what X.. wants."...and those people, who Mistress had allowed me to be friends with outside of gor... one by one they dropped away..some chiding me for the path i followed.. till at last, my Messenger list was empty..and only She remainded...So in a way.. it was as full as i could wish it...

Life. role play.. was never easy. i think the hardest thing to do is to be a Free Woman on gor. Always being 2nd guessed, Their property never respected. The Analogy is, having a neighbor and The think to themselves that Your car could do with a new paint job in a different color.. or that they want to go shopping.. and then just taking it and driving to the store..having it redone.. and then not understanding why the free Woman would be upset.

In the end.. it came down to a choice for me. Perfect, complete and instance obedience.. or suffer the Wrath of the Thwarted.. in the end it was no choice as all.

The place was as meaninglessly as the time of day, for this story. It probably was not hard for those that wished me ill, to get me in trouble. an unannounced rule change.. a whisper dropped in an all too willing ear.. no.. not that i am being disrespectful.. .. unless the truth is disrectfull...it came one day, to the point where i thought that a Free Man was going to kill me and then toss a copper coin to my Mistress as compensation. i was

on Message taking to Her.. i knew that i was doomed.. so there was no reason to try and live.. but to die well.. to die for Her.

i begged.. i begged as i have never begged before.. except for Her

collar.. that SHE would be the One that killed me.. it i was no longer to be Her's.. then i wanted Her hand to the one.. the poem i had written, came to mind.

Mistress

i yearn

yearn for the embrace

Of your steel

It's sweetness

and tender mercy

Mistress

i yearn

For Your Touch

i bare my back

To You

For the Touch of the whip

Or the hand that holds the whip

It matters not which..

only

Let it be Your hand Mistress

Your hand Mistress

Your hand only

She did not ant to do it, saying that She thought i would hate Her for it. Looking back i am not certain that i should have asked so much from Her.

Looking back.. it was the best that i could do.

She told the Free man that SHE would take care of dealing with HER property.. She stood over me and drew the sharpened blade.

and when She had slain me.. and my numb lips, tried to form the words.. " I love You..".. when i was gone.. she wiped Her blade clean in my glossy black hair... turned and walked away with never a backward glance....

She was so Magnificent.. so proud and honorable... I loved Her so

much at that mommnet..yes.. it was "only" Role play.. but W/we are what we pretend to be