service oriented slavery

09 12 2014

What to expect as My devotee

Ezada Femdom talk devotee, service oriented slavery, training 8

For the sake of the avoidance of any misunderstanding I will tell you once more what the whole concept of being My devotee is all about. Read this carefully, investigate yourself thoroughly. Ask yourself whether you truly feel the vocation, if you are really willing to live up to the task. So if you really do, carry on. Otherwise: Don’t waste My time.

First and foremost: Being My devotee is not about wanking while staring at My pictures like a grunting pig and then writing Me emails how much you enjoyed it. Not at all, in fact it is about the very opposite. It is not about sex. It is not about boots and leather and whips. It is not even about BDSM. Forget about all this. Being My devotee is about serving. Serving Me to the best of your abilities. Not thinking about your pleasure and well being, but about Mine.

Then, to those amongst you who really do not have anything of value to offer, no special skills, no money, no useful services: Thanks for showing the interest …. and Good-bye. I do not have time and inclination to communicate with people who are not useful. So, if you are in that regrettable group, there still is hope for you. Get yourself a decent job, make at least some money that you can sacrifice to Me and then reapply. This will anyhow do your life some good. Until then, don’t bother Me.

I have received quite some applications from people who offer Me their writing skills. Difficult endeavour. Honestly, I have enough willful poets at hand to fill bookstores for Me. So be aware that there is serious competition. I will only take the best amongst you writers into consideration. In fact there is a special test for you. Go to My twitter. Find a drawing in My timeline that appeals to You. Then write a short story about it and send that to Me. Entertain Me, arouse Me, in any case do not bore Me. If you´ve managed, I will let You know.

If you are still reading on and feeling bold enough to make it to the devotees, this is what will happen: You will receive individual tasks to cater for My needs. I will lead and train you to become My perfect slave and servant. Depending on where you are and what you do, this might happen more or less often. No matter how big or small the task, always do your very best. Never take anything for granted, being My devotee is a position that has to be earned every time anew. Never feel too safe about your position, otherwise you might be out again before you even noticed.

For all of those who make it: Congratulations. What is waiting for you as My devotee is a life that is enlightened by the brightness of the Goddess. Serving Me means becoming connected to My life. Being My devotee means that You are in contact with Me. In contact just like the faithful dog that gets collared by its owner and is led on the leash. Have You ever seen a dog when he approaches his master carrying his leash and collar in his mouth and his eyes are silently begging to have that put on? This is what will be waiting for you if you prove yourself worthy. To become My puppy, My servant, My devotee.

16 10 2013

Serving Me in Zurich part 1

Ezada Femdom lifestyle stories Europe, leather, service oriented slavery, story

People often ask me what I understand by expecting obedience from my slaves. Well that is easy to tell. Obedience means serving me without expecting any reward. Because the service carries the reward in itself. It is the reward. Serving Me without asking or questioning any of My orders. Anticipating them. Fulfilling them to the best of My slaves abilities. And also beyond that. I do not fulfil other peoples wishes. I expect my own wishes to be fulfilled. Not everybody will truly understand this concept and meaning of obedience. Only very few people will be able to follow that. My slaves do. Like frank.

Just recently I had told him by mail that I was going to Zurich the following week, gave him the flight number and told him that I would need a driver there. Not more than that. It was an e-mail of three lines only. I hardly ever write more than that to him. Even though I know, or rather because I know, how much he craves for words from me. he is a real addict to my words. But I do not have to write more. Because he always immediately understands what I tell him.

Arriving in Zurich I could see him already from far in the Arrivals hall. Standing there and waiting for Me. He is a rather tall and slim guy so he is easy to be made out in a crowd of people. As I had hoped he was wearing a chauffeur’s uniform complete with a cap and everything. I had not said anything about that, but this it what I mean. Even though My slaves are so different from Me they have to be able to know My thoughts. They have to anticipate My wishes. That I expect a perfect chauffeur when I need a driver. frank did. This is why I choose him for service.

From far I could already see and feel his nervousness and trembling anticipation. I could smell his ardent craving in My nose. He lives about an hour flight away from Zurich so I assume he also came by plane. I do not know. And I do not care. The only thing that interested Me was that he was standing there, ready and eager to serve Me.

Even though I had long made him out in the waiting crowd I did not show any sign of recognition. Why should I? I saw how his face was lit like by shining light when he first saw Me. I know that seeing Me always strikes him like lightning. Especially when I am clad into black leather from head to toe like I was in Zurich. I had chosen the bolero jacket he once had ordered for Me. I know how much he loves that and this is why I choosed that. A reason of course I would never ever let him know. He stared at My heels when I approached him. I noticed with satisfaction that he obeyed to the rule not to look into my face without being granted permission.

Passing him, I did not stop my steps. The staccato of the metal high heels was easy to hear even through the noisy airport hall. I passed him without slowing down. The only thing I did was letting go my trolley when passing him. No need to turn around and look whether he had grabbed that and followed. Of course he had.

Half a step behind me and on My left side, like I had taught him during our first meeting Bucharest, he followed Me through the catacombs of Zurich airport. When W/we had reached the car park, he gave me subtle directions where to go for the car. These were the first words that were spoken at all. Low voice, respectful, beginning every sentence with the words “Va rog” and ending it with “Stapana”.

We reached the car. A black Mercedes S-Class. Leather seats. Obviously a rather expensive rental car. Adequate means of transportation. He opened the back door for me and I got into the car without hesitation. Before closing the door he paused just for a fraction of a second. I know that he had hoped he would be allowed to kiss my feet for reception. But no, no, no. Not today. He stowed my trolley carefully in the trunk, sat down in the front and started the engine.

“Where may I bring You Mistress?”

His eyes looked for mine in the rear view mirror. So eager for contact. I saw the begging in his eyes. But again I did not show any mercy. The little piece of paper with the address thrown carelessly from the back landed on the front seat. I looked out of the side window. The big limousine gently started. Minutes later W/we had become part of the Zurich rush hour traffic. So far i had not addressed him with a single word. I knew that his apparent calmness was nothing but false front. His mind was utter turmoil. Time to tighten strings.