Do you want to see what turns me on right now?

What, even when I'm miserable sick, in pain, coughing and nausiated and feeling like a sopping-wet half-starved cat, manages to arouse and excite me, to make me curious, make me think, make me cum?

Do you, person reading this, really care?

'Cos if not, I suggest you turn back.

I'm going to post two letters. The first is from myself to Kadin. He's read it, replied as I asked... when he's finished the task I set him, perhaps I'll write about it. Perhaps he will. Perhaps neither of us will ever speak about it. But I wanted to post the letter.

The second letter is from the masochist who has caught my interest. He too is sick... and although I am editing names, I think it is worth reading. I've already read it five times over, getting more excited each time.

This...

...it's what I dream of, sometimes. It's why Kadin is at times so terrified... why even Caleb, sometimes, looks at me strangely. Why I understand Rhett. Why I am afraid of myself.

Because I could DO this.

I could BE her.

And I'd enjoy it.

Anyway... the letters.

--- first letter - to kadin ---

Hello, little one... yes, today you get orders. I'll be interested to hear how you handled them. I know, I know, you always do your best... that's not what I mean. When we talk next, I want to hear how it felt, what you thought, what you experienced. Trust me, it'll make more sense after you've finished this letter.

It's occurring to me that you've had a lot of time to get used to certain... freedoms. Things that I feel you might be taking for granted, now. That's going to change.

Tonight when you go to bed, I want you to use only one blanket, preferrably the thinnest one you have. Not a sheet - I don't want you freezing - but not a warm comforter or anything of the sort. I expect you to be chilled, and somewhat uncomfortable.

As you prepare for bed and before you sleep, I expect you to begin what will be a rather extensive visualization: for tonight, tomorrow, and tomorrow night although your physical body may be present here, YOU will be existing in a far different place. The room you will be kept in is roughly the size of your current bedroom... but with some definite differences. Instead of soft carpet, there is cold, rough stone. The walls too are made of stone, chill and barren. There is no comforting bed, only a pile of musty straw that is changed once a week and two thin blankets, one for underneath you, one for over you. No windows... you're too far underground for those. There is a light panel set into one wall that reflects the time of day, darkening as it becomes evening and brightening again in the morning... that's the only way you can tell what time it might be.

The door to your cell is solid wood, with a slot cut into the bottom of it to allow food to be passed in and empty dishes passed out. There's also a small round window cut high into the door, barred even though it's barely big enough to fit a hand through without the bars. In one wall, there's a tiny niche that holds a fountain and catchbasin - you are fortunate enough to have a constant water supply, although you have been warned by the guards that even this is a privilege that you could easily loose.

Your day begins simply - the door opens and you are escorted out to the washroom, where you are allowed to relieve yourself and given a quick, cold shower. Even though it's chilly, it's still almost a pleasure... afterward, you're given a chance to dry off with a cheap towel that compared to your rough straw bed seems like the most wonderful thing in all creation. After that, you're taken back to your cell.

Hours pass... and although in 'real life' you may be eating breakfast, running errands, dealing with people, I expect your thoughts, your mind, your spirit, to remain locked in that room. The only food you get is shoved through the little slot at the bottom of the door, lukewarm and tough... mostly bread and meat, occasionally fruit if one of the guards hasn't eaten it already. Nothing for you to do but pace, and reflect on what you are, what you exist for.

I want you to spend as much of tomorrow as possible sitting quietly, not speaking with others, not reading, not playing... curled up in a corner, or on your bed, simply thinking. Silent. Alone. The state of a slave who has ceased to be useful, or is not currently amusing... the place of a slave who has forgotten how much he owes to his Mistress, how even the littlest things each day are rewards, gifts, not to be taken for granted. I want you to realize how fortunate you are.

At noon, after you've eaten what food is granted to you, the guard on duty again escorts you out... first to the washroom, then to a small indoor arena. Here you're put to running, whipped if you slow or stop without permission, forced to exercise only because your Mistress wishes it, not as any comfort to you. Sometimes there are other slaves, also being exercised... you are not allowed to speak to them, nor they to you. You learned quickly that if you tried, it only earned you another beating. Once you saw a slave refusing to run as told... seeming not even to care, the guard in charge of the slave broke both his arms and was about to start on his legs before he started running. You've never dared to make such a mistake.

Because I do want you to get some exercise, around noon you will go out for a run. I expect it to last at least 20 minutes, and although you can slow to a jog you will NOT walk, or stop for anything other than streetcorners.

After this, back once again to those four cold walls... sometimes in the afternoon there are new sounds from outside. Occasionally it is your Mistress, although only rarely has she come to see you... more often you simply see a flash of leather or silk as she passes by on her way to some other portion of the slave pens. The few times she has come to see you, something in your behavior has disappointed her, and she rarely stays long, only giving you a brief chance to redeem yourself before stalking out, still displeased.

Evening... another meal, another trip to the washroom... and then the lights are dimmed, leaving you alone in the small room, letting you attempt to sleep once again.

That's the life that you, for a day, will live... if you offend or upset your parents or anyone else during this day, you will be beaten... not physically yet, but do you remember how I had you visualize such punishment, when you were working? You will do something similar at night if you have displeased anyone in even the smallest way. If you dare to argue with anyone, you will miss a meal as well as face a beating that night.

I want you to understand just how harsh life could be... still collared, knowing that no one will damage you beyond repair... but knowing also that you have taken your Mistress' kindnesses for granted, that you have come to expect to be treated like a person, not like the slave you are. I want you to feel that, for a day. To feel what it would be like, to get just the faintest glimpse of the punishment and pain and simple loneliness that you could be experiencing.

*slight smile* I want you to suffer.

You are not to call or write to me until after tomorrow night, nor are you to eat any sweets or desserts, or any snack foods. You will keep your meals simple, and drink only water. If for any reason you cannot keep your mind on this tonight, tomorrow, and the next night, another day and night will be added, with the same rules and restrictions. This will continue until you can successfully keep your mind where I wish it - locked away in a tiny, cold cell, living as a helpless slave and nothing more.

I expect a reply to this email, letting me know that you have read it and that you will do as ordered.

--- second letter - from O ---

Lady Jax,

Ma'am, I wanted to give you a status report on your potential property. I ended up at *name deleted* Hospital for three days, seems I had a fairly good case of pneumonia. I am released to return to work this coming Monday and am recovered and ever hopeful I might have the honor of meeting you next week.

I have spent considerable time on your web site. I am nearly ready to respond with an in depth letter. I see in your writing a dark side; which is so very appealing to me. The dark side almost makes me shutter in fear for I see great cruelty, sadism without mercy and much pain. I shutter yet I am aroused and feeling a burning deep within me.

Lady Jax, I want to relate to you the most fearful experience, by far, that left a ache within me. I have never told anyone of this experience.

Goddess C asked me to take her to the marina on *address deleted*. She told me she had to pay back some money to a friend. When we arrived I found that their were three couples in the midst of a party. Goddess talked a bit then asked me to come out on the front deck with her.

She told be she had become bored with me and asked what I thought I could do to revive her interest. I had no answer. She pulled a gun from the inside of her leather jacket and and put it at my head. She said she wondered what it would be like to kill me, what it would feel like, would she get an orgasm. I was in absolute terror, my knees so weak I struggled to stand and started sobbing.

She told me to start stripping and to throw my clothes into the river. I was shaking so much that she had to help me get my belt undone and my shirt unbuttoned. She snatched my wallet, but my watch and everything else including my class ring went into the river.

She told me how easy it would be to just pull the trigger and let me drop into the river, without a trace. She told me she had a thirst for total power and destruction, a burning inside.

She said we were going back into the boat and I had better submit like my life depended on it because it did. Lady Jax, I suffered more that night that ever, the mixture of fear, pain, hopelessness almost overwhelmed me. Sounds from deep inside me, the whimpering, clashed with the laughter of my tormenter.

I was beaten, whipped, burned, raped..tossed around.

Finally no noise from me, I was so resigned to my fate, I almost did not react except for the sharpness of induced pain, otherwise I was utterly passive.

Goddess led me out naked and put me in the car and drove off. Somewhere in East County she order me out of the car, naked and started to take off. She drove a little bit up the road, then stopped and from her truck gave me a old set of sweats and dropped me on Sandy Blvd. I finally made it home. Just before dropped me she gave me my billfold and keys and...pulled the gun out, dropping the clip to show me their were no bullets. I still can hear her laughing at me.

Never had I felt such fear, never have I repeated an event in my mind so often, never have I felt such continuing arousal and never have I masturbated so much over anything.

Lady Jax, this is, I think the basis of my "death wish" and you are the first I have ever told of this event.

slave O

---

Now you see why I said not to read, if you didn't really want to know?

*sighs softly*

I'm afraid of that side of me. The one that wants to hurt, to harm, to make the people I care about and the people I am interested in suffer. It's not going away, no more than my submissive side is going away... and currently, feeling as weak as I have, being as helpless as I've been, it seems to be growing even stronger, to balance out my fears and my own pain.

I don't want it that way, oddly enough.

I'd rather be meek and mild, kind, gentle, not bossy or evil or sadistic. Right now, I just want to get better, to feel good, to make my Caleb (who has been taking wonderful care of me) happy, to talk to Kadin, to finally write back to Nick - Tammuz, you are NOT forgotten, but email is being a bitch and eating the letters I send - I want to be sweet, for a while.

Instead, these... these are my dreams.

This is the universe I fall into each night, when I finally manage to claw my way into dreamland... and believe me, it IS a struggle to get there, effort, because not only am I sick, making it hard to sleep, but I am in fear of these dreams now.

They are coming faster, coming harder... the last one, it was a huge old building downtown, windows broken in here and there, doors busted, street kids living in it... and Grr and I were touring it, talking to people... I met a slaveboy there, he was mine somehow, after only talking to him for a few minutes he was MINE... I took him away from another girl who he loved, ruined him, broke him, and left him huddled in a drafty corner, wrapped in tattered scraps of velvet and silk, shivering, frightened, not daring to move or speak. I BROKE him... because I wanted to.

I still want to.

I crave that cruelty, and it sickens me. What do you do when your own mind seems revolting?