Mummy

 

Mummy dear Mummy what did I do that so disappointed you

What did you see as I looked up to you

Did you see the look of love a little smile within

How did you miss the things that this would bring

 

What did you see as you looked down on me

I was so small as I crawled on the floor

The look that implored the look that you abhorred

As i tried once again to get you to see me

 

What did you feel as you looked down on me

How could I make you love me

Your look so distasteful your tone full of scorn

I curled in a ball a little one so rejected

 

What happened when I felt your touch was something

I often consider

My soul within was shattered and worn my world so forlorn

How did this happen no one can tell for now you are in Heaven away from it all

Mummy dear Mummy what did I do

that so disappointed you

Dedication

 

For Master

The keeper of my dreams

The Man so good

He fills each moment

The Man so good

He has withheld no amount for caring tones

The Master of my heart its true until the end of time

Your slave loves You

Preface:

 

My beautiful Master oh how I love that sound, He who allows me to call him this even when I have pissed him off, this wonderful man this slave's owner, the man who has done something, which no other has ever even tried to do. Now on the death of my Mother, I am plagued by memories of my childhood, the torments and loneliness, of being the unwanted child: unwanted because she told me I am unlovable.

 

I write about the memories of living the life of the Spawn of the devil, the unloved and indeed unlovable child Mother unwillingly adopted. I was their last chance, that they had wanted a boy but had been told; it was to be me, or nothing! Mother always let me know this was my fault that I ruined her life by being born that even my birth mother had seen how evil I am and thrown me away.

 

I like my sister was adopted at six weeks old she being nearly five years older, we are closer now in our adult life, and I found that she never knew that Mother had told me lies. Mother always told me that my adopted sister did not want me and that she hated me for not being the brother she had asked for. Therefore, from earliest memories I tried to keep out of the way, to be invisible staying in the shadows and to hide at the back of my shelf behind the cobwebs.

 

I sit looking out of the window the social worker telling me the details of Mother's ignominious demise, I now had to accept there was no way I could make her love me; I have lost her. I was able to ask the right questions and write the answers down as my Master has taught me. 'Oh Master I need you, I need to tell you, and for you to tell me what to do, Master help me please'!'

 

It was as though he had heard my pain, my Master called. Whilst I continued to talk with the social worker Master called me on his mobile His private line. On hearing my beloved Master's voice tears well up and I cannot breath, the social worker continues to talk as does Master, neither aware of the other; me aware of both, and in the same instant neither.

 

Suddenly I was unable to cope. I knew I must take these details so I asked Master, to call me back or let me return his call, not something which His slave is allowed to do, I heard the anger in His voice and I understood why, I try to let him know, but could not say the words. "Master you will understand, but please I cannot tell you now, I am on the phone, please I have to call you back." Master must have known, was it something in my tone, he was demanding something, what?

 

The social worker was talking, what was it they were saying? I quickly told Master I was talking to a social worker about my Mother and he hung up, 'am I in trouble now'! The conversation continued and the memories started charging out from behind that bolted door, behind which I had hidden them; where they would not bite me and make me bleed, the pain she always made me feel. I listened to the social worker telling me what needed to be done, and all I could think was Mother was gone.

 

I was numb, and shaking the tears would not come, they burned behind my eyes like acid. After I hung up on the social worker, the rush of pain was tremendous, this slave sat shaking and all she could think of was her beautiful Master! How much my Master has given me in the short time we have had together, would he drop me now because I am truly needy.

 

In my thoughts, I spoke to Him, my way of coping to shut out the world, to climb into my place on that shelf and hide behind those cobwebs as I learned to do from earliest memory. 'Master, since meeting you, my beautiful Master, you have become the brush that has swept away those cobwebs and shown me to the world in the daylight as your slave, and not just told me, "you can be mine, but nobody will ever know." As was said to me in childhood by friends, who would have been embarrassed, for their real friends to know I tagged along with them, permitted as a charity!'

 

The slave still gazes blindly out of the window, and silently talks to the man she loves, her Master. 'In my middle years, I have found a way, finally a release from the torments of my childhood. The hidden bruises, the unseen wound, the burn mark from your paddle, your belt, and your cane, the even the tears brimming behind my eyes no longer bring fear as they did in my childhood.

 

Now Master, they mean that you care enough to deal harshly with me, but never to banish me back to my place on that shelf. I have given myself to you Master, and I begged you to take control of the whirlpool that was my life; I was the turd swirling in the bowl as life flushed the toilet, indeed that was where my life was when I started the New Year.

 

I had come to an epoch in my existence, yes Master that was what it was I was not living I existed. I needed something, or someone to scoop me out and place me on firm ground. Master, last year I placed that advertisement begging you to find me, to take me and to mould me into a real person, that through your patience and training I am becoming.

 

I was fed up with being nobody, the invisible thing that Mother had cast from infancy, Master you see, Mother called me, Spawn of the devil, an evil thing without worth. Therefore, how could anyone like me, when even Mother could not?'

 

The slave sits and remembers still shocked and scared, and continues to tell her Master that which he does not know. 'Therefore, it was a fearful being, the invisible turd, which made that call Master, your first command to me, to call you on your mobile and ask, "Master is it convenient to speak?" I read this letter ten times before getting up the courage to obey, although I did not know it, it was the first of many such calls to this wonderful man, to you my beautiful Master.'

 

'I sat in my office at the computer desk,' where i now sit in pain, 'wondering is this man my Master as I listened to the ring tone. Then when I had spoken to you and been commanded to call you the day after your return from holiday, I hung up I felt lost, lonely, and abandoned he does want me to call again! Why would he, he is just letting me down lightly.

 

However, I stored your phone number Master, with the feeling I was losing someone of utmost importance, and not understanding why I was devastated. Master, I continued to get replies to the advertisement and indeed met three lovely men, each one made me feel special, and introduced me to something I have always wanted to experience but never, until then had the courage to do anything about.

 

These men made me feel good to be me, they administered discipline and I thought control, I enjoyed it. Master they told me I was good to be with, that they enjoyed being with me!'

 

I did not for one minute believe them, I thought how could this be I am worthless. However, I did enjoy it; I suppose it was vanity to be told finally that I was good at something!

 

I was able to take the punishment they administered, they all told me they were harsh, and were astounded by my ability to take silently, no matter what was administered. In truth, I felt the strokes but they did not hurt, the administrations were my payment for their company. Master I was empowered through these actions; I started to feel my life might just be worth continuing.'

 

The phone rang and interrupted this runaway train, it is by instinct that I answered and not conscious thought, it was my beautiful Master. He was demanding an explanation thinking I was just playing a trick to tease him, as sometimes I do! At the sound of his voice the tears flow, as Master gives comfort and understanding, he continues to be the one in control, and I start to feel finally that I have found someone who truly cares for me, and that I am no longer alone.

 

I am His slave, I am His property, He is my Master, He has made the statement to the world by placing His collar on me, by locking it in place, and keeping the key, by which action Master keeps me at His side. In doing this, Master has shown He truly wants me that finally I do belong to someone.

 

My Master has given me meaning in my empty life, and all Master expects in return, is my total submission. To bend to his will and to obey him in all things, I do this freely and with love, therefore when people who cannot understand why someone would willingly accept corporal punishment, total control and BDSM and actually enjoy it, I tell them it makes my life safe.

 

Nevertheless, when my Master deals out punishment, in giving this he shows me I must comply with His rules, that in my subjugation to him I gave up the right to make decisions for myself, and must accept his laws without question, wherein I gained freedom.

 

'Master, when on our first meeting you got out of your car, your aesthetic beauty took my breath, I remember the fear and self-loathing I felt, I heard her voice inside my head. Oh God, when he sees this ugly and disgusting body, he will run and never look back! This was my first thought on seeing you Master, why would a man so beautiful want me, the turd!

 

Although Master, you did not you continued to walk to my car and from thereon in took total control over my very existence. From that moment Master, I am forever yours, your loyal slave, your plaything. Indeed the first time you saw me naked, you did not ridicule me you encouraged me, Master you even lied, you said that you were please with me!

 

You looked at me and saw something that was positive, you ignored my bulging body and my rounded shoulders, and you commented on the softness of my skin and the colour of my hair. You have not turned me away, Master from that moment, my lonely heart become unfrozen and has continued to thaw through your care and strict guidance, Master through you this slave has become a woman, who has worth.'

 

Therefore, to any who might think how could I do what I do, to take the ephemeral pain of the sometimes-severe punishments, administered throughout my ongoing slave training. Dear reader please read on, I hope you will see that I have now found the release valve to all that pain which I do still feel in my adult life. From which the seeds of these torments were sawn, as I, the spawn of the devil grew and matured into my beautiful Master's plaything, I am freed by this strict but always caring Man, my beautiful Master.

 

Master please may I tell you about my childhood, the things I can remember, and hopefully in the telling, those that I locked away for fear they would crush me.'