I Screwed Up!

There are Doms who write in to TSR and Fetlife from time to time on the subject of punishment. They say that a slave who likes being whipped/beaten will deliberately screw up on a task to earn such treatment. But the mark of a wise slave owner is one who knows how to punish when real punishment is called for. Such a thing happened to me today.
My normal punishment is the Chapter of Faults I am subjected to from time to time but this time I had gone on an errand to the shop and came back with the wrong item. To be told “You’re useless,” and “If I want something doing, I’d best do it myself,.” These words really sting. In my efforts to be a good serving slave I have failed and disappointed My Lady.
This is exactly what she said. I felt so contrite. I immediately dropped to my knees and bowed my head and put my hands behind me in the “punish me” pose.
She ignored me completely. I stayed there for quite some time. Eventually I was dismissed with a, “Get on with your work.”
“Thank you My Lady”, duly chastened I got up and got on with the rest of my day.
That evening I seemed to be back in favour, it was all, “Ah, Slave, get me this, do that, etc." Back to normal.

“Go fetch, boy! ”

Or should that read “Πηγαίνω να φέρω, αγόρι”? Let me explain…
It is evening. The sun has not yet set. My Lady is walking her slave on the beach. The holidaymakers have all left now and the sun-beds stacked away. There are one or two runners taking advantage of the comparative cool of the evening to do their athletic training. As we walk along the water’s edge we see a slave walking her Owner’s dog. We gather she’s a slave by her steel collar. She lets the dog loose and it runs into the sea. Lady Mistress comments on this, “It would be nice to have a dog to play 'go fetch' with.” Just as we pass one of the many stalls on the beach My Lady tells me to wait. She goes over to one of the stalls. Is she buying an ice cream? No she returns holding a bright yellow ball. She throws it along the beach. “Off you go, Slave. Go fetch!”
I hesitate a second then realise she’s not joking. I trot off and retrieve the ball and return it to her. We have no dog, but My lady has me. She throws it again. I run and fetch it. We do this several times. She’s having a load of fun and I am getting out of breath. Then she throws the ball into the sea. Really?
“Go fetch! Πηγαίνω να φέρω, αγόρι!”
“Εντάξει.” I obediently run into the sea and get the ball. My Lady is laughing her head off.
After several trips into the sea we stop. Its starting to get dark anyway. My Lady walks me back to the flat. My chiton is absolutely soaked through. I am a soggy slave. What’s that in Greek?
Σλάβω μουσκεμένος.

Reinforcement

Early morning

Our flat in Cyprus has rather thin walls so if I am being disciplined in the traditional way with a beating then the neighbours will hear the rhythmic thwacking sounds and put two-and-two together. Some are in the know but most are not. Better to not let their imaginations run riot.
With this in mind, I have been given a different regime of discipline. At night I am put to bed with my wrists tied together, sometimes behind my back, sometimes in front. It all depends on how My Lady wants me. There is a simple loop system used so I can escape if I have to, such as going to the toilet through the night or a more dire emergency. It is equally easy to retie myself too. I am honour bound to remain tied up.
In the mornings when I am usually given five or ten stokes of the cane or flogger I have to stand in the designated punishment corner for a timed five minutes instead, then kneel on the floor until I am told I can get up. Most of the day is spent in a rather vanilla way, i.e. not so much obvious slaving.

Vocabulary.

I have been kept rather busy during our time in Cyprus and found precious little time for writing up this log so these entries are somewhat belated. But while I have been there I have had perforce to converse in Greek or rather the Cyprian dialect. So here, partly for amusement, is a list of useful phrases a slave would be well advised to learn if it wishes to function in a Greek-speaking society. After all if I really were a slave in ancient Greece I would have to learn the language fairly quickly if I wished to survive.

First, a list of commands:

Slave! Σκαβώ!
Come here Έλα δώ
Now! Τώρα
I want a drink Θέλα ένα πότω
Cocoa Κακπο
Drinking Chocolate Ποσιμό σοκολάτ
Tea Τσαι
Coffee Καφές
Wine Οίνος
Kneel! Γανατίζω!
Here, beside me. Έλα δώ, δίπλα απο μου το.
Here, in front of me. Μποστά απο μου το.
I want to look at you. Θέλο να κοιτάζω εσύ.
I want to tie you up. Θέλο να προδένο εσύ.
I want to whip you Θέλο να μαστιγώνω εσύ.
I will punish you Θά σε τιμευρώ εσύ.
You are a disappointing slave Ίσει ενα απογοητεύω σλαβός.
Bad slave! Κακος σλαβός!
Naughty slave-boy. Άταος σλαβοάγορι.
Grovel Σίρνομαι
You will obey! Εσύ είναι!
You are a good slave Ίσει ενα σκλαβός φρόνιμος
You are loyal/obedient Ίσει αφοσιωμένος / υπάκουος
You may go now. Εσύ μπορώ τώρα φυγώ.

Now some responses:

Yes, My Lady Ναι Κυρία μου
I am here, My Lady Έμαιελά Κυρία μου
Of course Βέβαια
Right away My Lady Ίοτα / Αμέσος Κυρία μου
May the slave sit down? Μπορώ το σκλαβός καθόμαι;
May the slave eat? Μπορώ το σκλαβός τρώγω;
May the slave go? Μπορώ το σκλαβός φεύγω;
May the slave go to the toilet? Μπορώ το σκλαβός φεύγω στο τουλέττες;
May the slave go to bed? Μπορώ το σκλαβός φεύγω στο πλαγώζω;
Yes please. Ναι παρακαλώ
Thank you Ευχαριστώ
Thank you, My Lady Ευχαριστώ πολύύ Κυρία ου
No My Lady Οχί Κυρία ου
I am so sorry Ειλικρινά λυπάμαι
Please don’t beat me! Παρακαλώ μη μαστιγώνω μου το!
No more, I beg you! Δεν περισσότερος εμαι ικετεύω!
Please stop Πάυω παρακαλώ
Have mercy! Ελέος ελείσον!

That should cover the basic vocabulary a slave in Cyprus would need to know.

Easier Day

A much less intense day. My Lady dismissed me around mid morning. I was neither beaten nor admonished, - nor praised for that matter.
There was one rather dirty job to do. The bathroom sink was blocked and no amount of pumping with the suction plunger would free it. I has to clear the S-bend of black, slimy sludge by hand. But that job took less time than expected. All is sorted now.
It has been a more vanilla sort of day. But I still have to know my place. I still had to make My Lady’s cocoa on time. On the other hand, My Lady would not let me clean up the kitchen. She insisted on doing it herself and letting me rest.

More Discipline

There’s lots of slaving needing to be done just now. I have been kept busy all morning through to about two in the afternoon; the main job was cleaning My Lady’s car followed by many various other little jobs. When they had all been done I stood before My Lady and waited to be dismissed but she seemed to ignore me until she asked why I was still there and not taken my time out. “I have not yet been dismissed, My Lady. It is not Slave’s place to ask to be dismissed.”
“And quite right too,” was her reply, “now go to the bedroom and wait for me.” I genuflected as usual and took my leave. I went to the bedroom and waited, kneeling on the floor as usual. Shortly afterwards, My lady came in to the room carrying a cane. She bid me kneel upright on my bed. I did as bidden. She gave me four stokes across my buttocks. “That is to help you remember what you are while out, and now one more, just because you are a slave.” I received a mighty single extra smack across my bum.
These last few weeks have seen an increase in activity as a slave. My Lady is more into her role and seriously training me. Neither Lady Mistress nor My Lady were into corporal punishment before, whether as “play” or as correction. As far as I am aware Lady Mistress still has no wish to indulge this. But My Lady has acquired quite a taste for it.

An Evening with My Lady

It is 7-30 pm. I have just finished clearing up the kitchen and have scrubbed the floors. I have been outside in the setting sun getting the day’s washing in off the line. It is beautiful and dry, ready for ironing; a selection of tee-shirts and undies but also two sets of bed linen including duvet covers. I am just about to go into the under stairs cupboard for the ironing board when,
“Slave! Sla-a-ave!”
I emerge quickly and hurry to the living room where my Lady is sat in her chair. She has just switched off the TV.
“Yes, My Lady?”
She points to the floor in front of her. I kneel down on the spot she has indicated. My Lady reaches forward and grasps my collar and pulls me towards her and kisses me full on the mouth. Then she releases her grasp. I sit back on my heels with my hands in my lap.
“Now go and get me a drink, a large whisky.”
“Yes, My Lady.” I get to my feet, genuflect, go and out and pour her double measure then return. "Would that be all, My Lady?”
“Why, Slave?”
“I have my work to do. There is the ironing.”
“You’ve worked very hard all day. Leave the ironing and kneel down where I can see you.”
I complied. My Lady went on to say that I am not a slave simply to work and do more work, - she likes to look at her property sometimes. I remained there some time, kneeling on my scatter cushion while she sipped her whisky. “You’ve been a good slave today,” she said, “I’d like to give you a little reward.” I remained silent. To reply would be inappropriate. My Lady put her glass down on the table. “Let me look at you,” then smiled, “I want to whip you, would you like that?”
“I am you slave.”
I bowed my head. She sent me to fetch the new flogger, a multi-tailed short whip with 18” tails.
I returned with the instrument and kneeling down handed it to her. She told me to stand and remove my chiton. I did as bidden and stood naked save a pair of thin white brief shorts. “Let’s try a hundred strokes and see how we get on.” She suggested. I raised my arms above my head. She gave me ten to my right buttock followed by ten to the left. They stung a little but My lady was being gentle. As the flogging continued I settled into the regular rhythm. She started to hit me harder as my tolerance increased. But as My Lady started to tire her aim was a little less accurate. I was more curled up. A couple of times the ends of the whip hit the more tender parts of my feet and added a new exquisite dimension of pain. Then it stopped.
“Get dressed”, she ordered. I put my chiton back on over a very tender skin. She handed the whip to me. Time to put it away. I genuflected, “Thank-you, My Lady”.
I returned to do the ironing and at the appropriate time made My Lady’s cocoa as usual.
Later, when I went to bed, I was tied up. I lay there savouring the warmth in my skin from the spanking I'd had while I waited for the Homeric boon of sleep to overtake me.