|May 30th to June 1st 2008. Return to the OWK - The Celebration Weekend.|
May 30th to June 1st 2008. Return to the OWK - The Celebration Weekend.
Day 1. Bad Dog
Part one. Journey to OWK.
Am I ever to travel abroad with Goddess Lillith and not fail almost at the first hurdle? Last year it was forgetfulness over maps and directions that marred the start of Goddess's trip; this time it was a crime so bad that I will not tell of it here. Suffice to say, I marred Mistress's enjoyment on day one once more, and once more I would rightly pay for my crime.
The flight destination was Brno thus making the transfer to the OWK much shorter at a little over an hour and until a few minutes after landing it all seemed to be going so well. My gifts for Goddess pleased Her, as did my managing to get an upgrade in accommodation. The road journey to Stanstead passed without incident and even the over weight luggage and subsequent rush did not dent the very good start that was made. As with the last minute, it was within minutes of landing that my mistake was exposed and hopes of a flawless journey evaporated. I knew that I had failed and I knew that I would be punished but foremost in my mind was how I could help Mistress enjoy Her stay, and to start Her enjoyment as soon as possible.
Part two. Arrival and settling in.
We arrived, parked and had dealt with the admission formalities without further issue. Indeed within minutes the apartment was seen, the luggage arrived and Goddess Lillith was in the Queen's Palace, Her slave at Her feet, for the OWK fashion show.
Old acquaintances were renewed and new acquaintances made, here and later in the Club. Formal events for the day were done, (they had started before our arrival), but Mistresses were soon to dine and begin to gather in the club. For Mistress it was a brief period of settling in, for Her slave it was the start of his penance, a penance that would last for many hours, and predictably would start with corporal punishment - issued outside in public and doubled due to my pathetic whining.
Goddess had more important things to attend to than a slave's punishment however, and though of course the punishment would inevitably come (as I deserved), She had uses for me in terms of unpacking and helping Her settle into the apartment. A hidden corner where Her slave could be kept out of Her way was found and toys were lined up for inspection.
Finally it was time to shower and change. Goddess Lillith, directed my actions and questioned my mind; always of course in control but moving from strict and uncompromising to almost conversational in the way that only She can achieve. â€˜Are You hungry caleb?' She enquired at one point, â€˜do you have a sheet of paper,' She asked at another and sent me to get a menu for inspection.
When I returned and suggested that I should be collared in accordance with OWK rules, She sprung Her trap and my fate for the evening was sealed.
Part three. Bad, bad dog.
I was collared, I was commanded to worship at Her feet and I was kicked away. My punishment was the only punishment that a bad, mangy dog should have, I was not even fit to be called â€˜Spot,' and was to be referred to only as dog or hound prefixed by one of many descriptors of my badness, â€˜mangyness' and worthlessness. A sign, written on a large sheet of paper was attached to my back;
But feel free to kick me like the wretched beast that I am.
Owned by Goddess Lillith
A fuller explanation of my punishment was described by Goddess accompanied by well deserved and well aimed kicks about my body. I was to be denied food until the morning. If I wanted to drink I was to beg and (if Goddes felt inclined) I would be sent outside where my bowl was to be placed. Every Lady at the OWK would know that I had displeased my Mistress, each would be encouraged to kick me, as many would. I would sleep away from Goddess Lillith, like a dog should sleep, and finally I was denied any right to speak unless in total emergency. Not only could I not speak, I could not bark, growl, indeed any noise, except to dog whine and whimper. In fact dog whines were compulsory. I would be punished for other sounds and punished for not enough of the permitted sound. With that I was given a couple of kicks, had the lead attached and dragged out so that my humiliation could begin.
Part four. Dinner (for some) and Club Wanda.
With a mix of scorn and mocking, of sternness in the face of justice and indifference, I spent the evening almost totally on my knees and in the puppy mask. Mistress dragged my worthless self inside and outside, quite rightly having no pity for my toil or my fatigue or my hunger. I was insulted almost every step of the way, kicked at every infringement of Her rules, or because She simply wished to kick me. In the apartment I was to cringe and whimper before Her, outside of it I was to crawl behind Her, cringe away whenever it might be amusing for Her, and at all times keep up my quota of whimpers and whines.
At dinner, as Mistress enjoyed Her food I was taunted and ridiculed by mock concern and withering insults, punished by the crop and the kick and made to cringe all of the time. I was chained up outside for a while, near to my dog bowl but unable to reach it and commanded to ensure that all could see the sign on my back. I was walked outside; from the long house to the sports hall and around the sports track, abandoned like a stray when my laboured efforts slowed Mistress too much. I was walked to the club, and around the club where Mistress continued to tell Her Domina friends of my punishment, to their kicking and mocking. Largely, rightly, I was otherwise largely ignored whilst She chatted and I crawled in Her wake, knelt at Her feet or cringed and whimpered from whatever spot She had sent me to await Her.
I walked only when holding Mistress's coat tails or long dress at the base as She climbed or descended stairs or walked where dust may dirty Her clothes, and late in the evening I was turned from bad dog to furniture with the use of the â€˜how may I serve You' gag.
If I was to think that this might be the end of my punishment, it was not.
Part five. Sleep?
Now it was time to retire. Deciding finally against using the outside kennels, (not from pity for me You understand but a wish to know what was inside it first and it being dark), I was to be caged on public display. Another twenty lashes with crop and flail for good measure, I was put into the lower of a â€˜two storey' cage and eventually allowed a blanket and pillow. Above the cage was posted the sign of my shame and without a backward glance at Her devoted, yearning but rightly punished dog She was gone, and I was alone.
I thought so much about Goddess Lillith at that time, and about my crime and about my punishment. Goddess Lillith is infallible and Her punishment was just and sound. I was grateful for Her punishmentÂ and filled with sorrow for what I had done.
All I felt for Goddess Lillith was devotion and slavish love.
The night was long, the sleep was short, the humiliation was complete (but not over). Woken in the night by Mistress Rene and Lady Regina who were retiring and had stumbled upon me I was teased and tormented some more. They wheeled the cage around, laughed, mocked and insulted, probed and poked at me with crops and canes and generally had fun at my caged expense. They finally left me, their laughter and mocking still in my ears and I could sleep once again, though it was fitful, uncomfortable and full of longing.
Day 2. Donkey.
Part one. Early duty.
My schedule up to ten a.m. was set, decreed the night before by Goddess Lillith. I would rise at 7am and exercise. From then until I took Mistress Her breakfast at ten I was to eat, wear the sign still on my front, and fill my time. I was allowed to eat what and as much as I wished.
The day was hot even at 7a.m when I climbed from the cage, took my aching limbs through a series of stretches and then took in four laps of the race track - the first at a walk, second a brisk walk, third a jog and fourth a harder trot. From then until nine I alternated between returning to the cage, walking to prevent muscle strain and breakfasting (the kitchen opened at nine). A number of Mistresses passed back and forth, many ignoring me, some reading the sign and moving on, and some spending time on me. Mistress Fetish Dia returned several times to taunt, laugh or simply smile and say â€˜bad dog.' Mistress Rene stopped by, asked if I had slept well and if I appreciated the beauty, wisdom and perfection of my Owner to which i answered yes, both times.
At 10 a.m I was kneeling at Mistress's chambers with Her breakfast, and at five passed, I was kneeling at Her feet to present the food. Whilst She dined I was commanded to shower, to dress, and then to attend to a series of chores inside and outside the apartment.
As Goddess Lillith dressed I read out the itinerary for the day and finally assisted in Her dressing and we left for the start of day two.
Part two. Dog to horse... to donkey.
The slave hunt was ended when we arrived, Goddess Lillith looking as beautiful as ever in riding jodhpurs, boots, corset and top. I trailed in Her wake, leashed and kneeling for most of the time whilst the Mistresses enjoyed each other's conversation and their slave's humiliation. I was sent for refreshments and for a chair, was used as a foot rest, or made to kneel as an obedient dog until it was time to prepare for the day's equestrian events. My descent was rapid. I had so wanted to please Goddess Lillith, so wanted to be thought of as a useful, enjoyable creature to own again. For weeks I had been in training, for as long I had been seeking pony tack to please Her.... For weeks I had seen this as my big chance to really please my Goddess and redeem my race losing shame of the previous visit.
It turned so quickly.
At tacking up all seemed well enough, at basic dressage there seemed a good deal of admiration for Goddess Lillith for my training, (but mocking for my paleness). As Goddess Lillith took me around the park to warm up, it seemed well enough. But heat and medication said otherwise. Goddess Lillith saw me labouring, and as a kind, generous and caring slave owner She questioned me, heard my enthusiasm and saw my disappointment but decided, for my own good that I would not be racing in the searing heat. I would remain in pony tack, indeed would be naked as a true pony is, and remain in pony mode.
She knew what was best for me, better than I knew myself.
As event time drew closer and as Goddess Lillith's chosen mount proved surly and poorly trained, I saw only my wish to please Goddess Lillith, my desire to give my all for Her amusement, my chance to earn a pony name by pleasing Her.
The main race was clearly not an option. The day was too hot, the race was too long, and the pain from my medication too obvious, but the early event? As start time for Mistress neared and Her chosen state slave proved unready I begged. I begged for a chance to be Her mount and against Her better judgement Mistress allowed it.
Part three. Hope over reality.
Part one of the test seemed best suited to Goddess's training - a blindfolded test of control and reaction. With no sound and just the reins to control the pony, the task was for the Mistress to guide her pony and cart through a slalom course in fastest time. In fairness I am not made to be a racing pony. I am, I hope a useful dressage pony and good as a pony for pulling a trap when Mistress wishes to have a leisurely ride, but for racing, no.
Mistress was perfect in Her use of reins. With each tug, or slap I knew how fast and far She needed me to move or which direction change was required. Any failing could only be mine and a time of 2 minutes 30 seconds was achieved, quite respectable, indeed in the top half of competitors.
Things went wrong in part two, an event called bareback pony. Holding onto a 3 wheeled â€˜tricycle', the pony would be ridden either bareback or saddled for a one circuit time trial.
Mistress was unsure, as were some other Mistresses who opted not to contest but having seen the first two riders I had other ideas; after all the horses only walked. Surely I could walk a single lap? The Goddess even helped by opting for a saddle, partly to assist Her pony but also to provide a more dignified ride for Her.
This was my first time â€˜under saddle' - an ambition, a joy and an honour. I wish I could have risen to the occasion.
The first third went well enough; I kept up a steady gate and though I was never going to win, I was hopeful that Mistress would be proud. Just after half way my legs began to weaken considerably. Strength in the rest of my body remained high, my breathing was relatively controlled... I simply felt my legs begin to buckle under the strain. At two thirds round I knew that I was not going succeed. Panting for breath, I collapses to my knees and begged to be allowed to stop. Mistress urged me on; with the crop, with promises and encouragement. I tried and tried but was spent and had to stop.
I had failed my Mistress and took a walk of shame - an un-mounted walk to the finish line and back to Mistress's feet.
â€˜My pony has gone lame,' declared Mistress, â€˜I have had to shoot it.'
The walk of shame, to the jeers of the assembled Mistresses was as humiliating as anything in my life.
Â Should I have even tried? Perhaps not. But I have a singular aim in servitude, and that is to please my Mistress. Sometimes that enthusiasm leads me to attempt things that I will fail at. Who said, â€˜it is better to have tried and failed than never to have tried at all'?
Back at Mistress's feet I was petted and my effort acknowledged. Though I had failed, She had seen me give all that I had in order to try pleasing Her. I was sent away to get water and to dress once more. My equestrian day was over.
Still to come was the second carting test; a large, heavy and unwieldy cart designed totally for Mistress comfort and with no thought for pony comfort. This was a short distance event and one could see why. Finally the â€˜grand prix' of pony play; the Queen's Race; a series of one lap time trials with the three fastest riders and ponies progressing to the final race, covering two laps.
Part three. A quiet afternoon in!
The afternoon's racing was over and it was time to eat and for Mistress to rest. Shortly after entering the restaurant, Mistress decided that She preferred to dine in Her apartment. She took Her wine, decided on two dishes and left me to bring them once ready. Back in Her apartment with the food I was made to lie at Her feet as a footrest whilst She decided on Her choice (I would have the other) and whilst She ate, still as a footrest, but now on all fours, I was given my meal with the addition of the scraping from my Mistresses. I ate with hands whilst serving as a foot rest until Mistress decided to retire for a sleep. I was ordered to finish my meal, begin my written account of the trip so far, and to awake Mistress at 6pm.
Part four. The Queen's Palace.
A drinks reception was being held, a formal event attended by Queen Patricia and with a strict code of conduct for slaves.
Once I had pulled Mistress's rickshaw to the event I was sent to don my tail coat and instructed to wait outside until summoned. Perhaps thirty minutes later I was allowed inside, and kneeling at Mistress's feet, allowed to see the evening's events. Careful never to have my back to the Queen and on regular errands to get food or drink for Mistress, I was otherwise a dumb animal at Mistress's feet for the events that followed. Three Mistresses were being granted citizenship to the OWK, (Mistress would qualify overnight and so Her investiture would need to wait until the following year), and a competition was held for â€˜best OWK slave.'
What unfolded was a series of tasks for the entered slaves (I hope to be entered next year when Mistress becomes a Lady Citizen), that came in four parts;
- Jester. Slaves were given two minutes to bring about laughter.
- Art. The most amusing striptease.
- Bear the pain. Sustaining the maximum number of strokes
- Physical exercise. The two finalists competing in a pre selected fitness test.
The Mistresses thoroughly enjoyed this spectacle and a good time was had by all.
Part five. Back to Club Wanda.
Mistress wished to relax a while and then change before attending Club Wanda and to do so free of Her slave so I was left in the pillory to await Her pleasure. Punished first I was left, in considerable discomfort until She returned, mocked occasionally by other Mistresses but otherwise alone. When She did return, I was beaten again, released and allowed to follow Her into the club, where we stayed for around an hour and where Mistress discovered an as yet unknown weakness of mine; the power of tickling. Having had me act as Her footrest, Her ashtray and Her serving tray for a while, Mistress decided to play and it was to the punishment wheel that She took me. I was tested, a year early, on my artistic striptease, making Mistress and those others attending laugh as I did and then attached me to the wheel.
This is an amazing device; allowing a Mistress to totally immobilise Her slave on the wheel, She could then turn it to Her preference, leaving the slave powerless but hanging as the wheel dictated and open for wherever and however Mistress wished to play. It was here that my weakness for tickling was exposed.... And exploited, much to Mistress's amusement; a perfect way for Her to end Her day.
I slept in the cage, in the lounge of Mistress's apartment, and secured by padlock.
This was the last day of Mistress's visit to the OWK and one that began when She released me from the cage and sent me to collect Her breakfast. Once I had served Her I was sent to eat my own before showering and dressing. There was to be a photo shoot for Mistresses that wished it and Mistress looked especially stunning in Her latex catsuit and riding jacket. In puppy mask I was merely a prop.
After the shoot it was a day of relaxation for Mistress and Her friends, and a day as a puppy for me. Changed into more comfortable attire, Mistress enjoyed the sun and the company of fellow Mistresses in the area beside the restaurant. In puppy mask I spent most of the time at Her feet, or fetching the stick that She threw from time to time. I was given water and fed, petted and mocked by Mistress and Her friends, and once again tickled, (after Mistress had shown off Her puppy control skills to the others).
After lunch it was sadly time to leave. I packed away Mistress's things, changed back to chauffeur uniform and we left for an hour long and uneventful drive to Brno airport, an uneventful flight and an uneventful drive from Stanstead to Central London.
Golden days, golden memories and another amazing experience over.
CALEB - also note that Mistress felt the â€˜piggyback' position too undignified, hence the saddle.
Also note the jeering you received from the Mistresses when Goddess appeared with your bridle and plume, declaring that she had to shoot her lame horse.