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Diary of a Submissive

In Thrall to the Dominant Female

By Miranda Birch


Copyright ©2018 Miranda Birch. All Rights Reserved.


A dominant woman lends her male slave to another female while she goes on holiday. This male slave recounts in diary form his servitude to this dominant young woman. He is put to hard toil in house and grounds, licks boots to show his submission, is caned and flogged for the slightest error, and even used as a sex toy.


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I am a slave. The property of a woman. Mistress Daphne has owned me for over two years now. And she has now told me she is taking me to Europe. But — there she will lend me to a friend of hers while she takes a three months cruise to the Far East via South Africa! She does not require me on the voyage, presumably on account of the difficulty of keeping me under restraint and disciplining me the way she does at her country home. For she can be very severe on occasions, and it is clear that the other passengers, to say nothing of captain and crew, would not be amused by my howls and screams for mercy!

This is not the first time I have been loaned out to be used, and indeed abused, by other dominant women. But it has never been for so long a period before. Being treated as a chattel, to be given to other women for their use, is hard to bear sometimes. But I suppose, as a genuine life-long masochist, that this is the way I want to be treated. Yes I suffer; but for me to suffer is, within limits, a form of pleasure. Unfortunately for me, Mistress Daphne quite frequently goes beyond those limits. Then the pain I endure is greater than any pleasure at the time. However, in retrospect, I still feel a glow of delight at her complete domination over me, at her power so relentlessly exercised over me. Yes, Mistress Daphne is truly my Mistress. And now, for a time at least, I will be deprived of her.

It may seem strange to say I will miss her. Yet it is true. Who, I wonder, will be my new Mistress in her absence? for of course she has told me nothing beyond the bare outline described above. After all, I am her slave — what has it to do with me? I must serve in any case. That is all that concerns me.


We have travelled to France by way of the car ferry, spending the first night in Dieppe. We registered at a first class hotel, where I was able to perform all my usual domestic and personal duties for Mistress Daphne before she retired. When she sank into the double bed I expected to be dismissed to my small single room. But no… she ordered me to lie down naked at the foot of her bed and to remain there until she required me in the morning. Fortunately the room was reasonably warm but all the same I spent an uncomfortable night.


We have arrived at a chateau in the region of the Loire. I do not know the exact location but we have come south of Orleans. As usual I have been acting as Mistress Daphne's chauffeur and general factotum en route. The tension in me is mounting as I await the moment when I will be presented to my new Mistress. Mistress Daphne has said nothing of her, except that this woman will have exactly the same rights over me as she herself has. in particular that she has unlimited powers of discipline and correction. Oh, that much I had expected. Did I not long ago sign away my freedom, at the same time absolving my Mistress from all responsibility for as to my physical well-being? I cannot go back on that. My fate is sealed. It will be the same with this new Mistress.


I have met my new Mistress! For some reason I had been expecting to find a woman as old as Mistress Daphne — that is to say in her thirties. But Mistress Charlotte is in her mid-twenties, if that, maybe even a bit younger. [I refer to her as Mistress because that is how I have to address her. She is in fact Miss R. But the reason I do not address her as Miss is that] She has a lady's maid by the name of Miss Nicola. Her I address as Miss. It has been made very clear to me that though she is a servant, I am as much her slave as that of Mistress Charlotte. That was made clear to me at the outset.

Mistress Charlotte has a very powerful personality. One could not exactly call her beautiful but she has a magnetic female attraction. She is very Gallic in appearance — hard-looking, with high cheek-bones, narrow yet wide eyes that slant in a slightly cat-like way — brilliant eyes that can flash fire or ice. A mouth that is full but firm. Her figure is superb: high breasts, slim waist, curvaceous hips, long legs. Instantly I felt a reverent adoration for her. Was I worthy of serving such a wondrous creature? Oh with what natural submissiveness I fell on my knees before her, kissing the floor over which she had just walked.


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