Serving Madame Sarka
Serve at Madame Sarka´s house
To serve a Goddess – Madame Sarka
My session with Madame Sarka...
Serve at Madame Sarka´s house
To serve a Goddess – Madame Sarka
My session with Madame Sarka...
Serving Madame Sarka
i just couldn't believe my eyes the day i saw Madame Sarka's pictures on the OWK web-site for the first time. i couldn't breathe for a frightening long time and i just sat there staring in disbelief, both eyes and mouth wide open. It was then that i started believing in miracles, for i was simply witnessing one. To me Madame Sarka was (is and always will be) the most beautiful Madame in the whole wide world and no one, really no one would (nor will) ever come close to Her. My heart kneeled down for Her, there is no better way to describe it. This all happened six years ago and it took me all this time to gather enough courage to submit myself to Her. i am a slow starter, what can i say.
i met Her for the very first time in Belgium a few months ago and i came pretty close to dying on that unforgettable day . i was so, so nervous and i feared i would fall to pieces the moment She set eyes on me. One month later i had the true honour of meeting Her again and this time was better already, with only my teeth rattling like castanets all the time. And just last week i met Her again and this time i served Her at the OWK. So six years of waiting ended up in three meetings in a row. Sure, i may be a slow starter, but once i get going there is no holding back.
Madame Sarka is not only the most breathtaking Madame in the world, She is excellent company as well. She has a great sense of humour and on our way to the OWK, driving in Her car, She was very, very sweet to me. She has the power of taking away each and every form of nervousness and that is a true, true gift.
Madame Christine opened the gates of the OWK and Madame Sarka parked the car inside. Here i was, within the walls of that incredible place where i dreamed of for six long years, with the Madame i was literally willing to die for. It was a lovely warm day and while Madame Christine and Madame Sarka greeted each other, i was struck by this almost magical feeling the sun was shining for me and for me alone.
i carried Madame Sarka's luggage to Her room, where She went through mine, asking me if i brought an uniform with me. i must have looked rather stupid, because i wasn't prepared for that. i mean, on almost each and every picture of the OWK slaves are totally naked, so i was completely surprised to hear slaves had to wear uniforms. It was a pity, because now i had to wear my daily clothes during my stay, which was a annoying reminder of the outside world i tried to leave behind.
Madame Sarka explained some basic rules to me, like: always walking a few steps behind Her, opening the door for Her and more of these - almost natural - things. After that we went to the pub, where i had to sit down on a very small and very low wooden stool and listen to a long conversation - in a language i did know nothing about - She had with Madame Christine. Madame Christine's slave (a slave from Norway) had chains on his wrists and ankles and sat on a wooden stool as well. Norwegian wood, you might say.
Madame Sarka had handed me a bowl of water, explaining to me slaves must always eat and drink from such a bowl. i had put it down on the floor, not knowing what to do. Kneel down and drink like a dog? i had no idea and didn't have the guts to ask Her. The chained slave from Norway gave me the answer by lifting the bowl to his lips and drinking from it. Boy, i can be so stupid from time to time, because i really never thought of that possibility.
Madame Sarka told me i had the privilege of watching one of the OWK's newest movies and with much laughter the four of us watched it in the pub, while Madame Sarka used my upper leg as a footstool from time to time. Directly after that we went back to Her room, were She ordered me to strip. The way She said it is really something i will never forget my entire life. One moment She was really friendly to me, the next moment Her voice became rather soft, but nevertheless extremely demanding.
"Strip off."
Each time She said that during my stay shivers ran down my spine. Her voice alone can brake any man, believe me, i am a true witness. Every once in a while i made the mistake of looking directly into Her eyes while She ordered me to strip and i can assure you every tiny little bit of courage runs for cover if you look into that amazing strength that can be there in Her eyes. i'm sure i can stand any form of punishment, no matter how severe, but looking into Her demanding eyes for more then three seconds is definitely impossible.
She chained my wrists to the cross, made me spread my legs and took care of my bottom. The feeling that ran through my body, being completely helpless and at Her mercy, is impossible to describe. i've tried, several times, but the outcome was just nothing compared to the boiling emotions which set me on fire. Then i had to clean Her bathroom and the next hour i was trying to make everything shine like new. As soon as i was finished She inspected my work very thoroughly and that was really nerve-wracking. i felt smaller then a mouse, almost too scared to look, fearing Her voice, fearing Her punishment. It was an outstanding example of pure dominance.
After that i had to shave Her legs and give Her legs and feet a massage. It's not humiliating; it's a true, true reward. Madame Sarka's legs are so, so beautiful and being ordered to touch them is a real treat. If i had my way (no way, slave) i would still be doing it right now, it's something that will never make you tired, never.
The pool game that followed was big fun, it really was. Madame Sarka and Madame Christine played pool and Madame Sarka explained the rules with a big smile. If She or Madame Christine placed a ball in the pocket, the slave would get the reward of kissing Her feet, hands or bottom. If She or Madame Christine missed the ball, the slave would be punished. And boy, boy, did they miss a lot!
i slept on the floor in a room nearby Madame's Sarka's, because i had told Her i use to snore like a sawmill. Probably for my own safety Madame Sarka ordered me sleep in corridor a few restless hours.
The next morning we went to the pub for breakfast and after that i had to polish Madame Sarka's shoes. Sitting on my knees in front of Her, knowing Her eyes were following every movement i made. After breakfast with shoes we returned to Her room where She tied my hands and legs and sat down on my face, squeezing and whipping my little man down under. Her beautiful, beautiful bottom on my face was a true touch of Heaven. At one point She untied my right hand and ordered me to wank off, which was - off course - no punishment at all. i came, while Madame Sarka was sitting on my face, playing with my nipples. O dear me, it was so, so beautiful. She ordered me to clean myself, wash my hands and give Her a leg massage again. From one Heaven to another, i felt blessed, truly, truly blessed.
The world turns, as they say, and it's probably true, but serving Madame Sarka means there is nothing else but Her. No outside world, no daily life, no problems, no fears; just Madame Sarka. Being with Her simply means surrendering your past and your future to Her. For the very first time in my life i felt completely safe and protected and i never thought anyone could make me feel that way, i honestly thought it was impossible. But Madame Sarka did, She really made me feel safe, made me feel protected, just by being there and making me surrender to Her. How can anyone, just anyone, stand in Her shadow?
In the afternoon the four of us played a game of cards, and Madame Sarka applied the same rules She had set during the pool game. With one, little difference: if the slave should win, he would be granted to make a wish. Sounds good? Maybe, but i realised way too well Madame Sarka would always be in control of me (and therefor my wishes) and i just wasn't brave enough to push my luck. Again it made me so aware who was completely in charge of things, in spite of the relaxed atmosphere and all the laughter we had. It made me feel even more submissive to Her, it really did.
The card game was so much fun and we had some big laughs. Madame Sarka had some pretty nice punishments for me in store, like ordering me to stick out my tongue and swallow the ash of Her cigarette, licking the wine of the floor which She had poured for me, and so on. i loved it all, because i was more then sure She could never, ever set a punishment which i would not love to do or take for Her.
Back in Her room i had to give Her back a massage, which again was not healthy for the nerves. Madame Sarka is so amazingly beautiful and touching her naked skin makes your hands tremble like leaves in the wind. You want to look at all this beauty and on the other hand you're almost too scared to do so. The most beautiful (read: difficult) thing was giving a massage to Her arms and hands, because i had to hold Her hand all the time to do the job right. i became really dizzy in my head, i swear it's true, fearing there's a limit to all the beauty a simple slave like me can take.
Late in the evening we drove back to Prague, where i had the immense honour of serving Madame Sarka during the Saturday afternoon and Sunday. On Saturday She came to my hotel room, tied my hands and sat down on my face again, squeezing my balls, putting nasty clips on them and whipping my dick. At one point i made the mistake of giving a stupid answer to one of Her questions and Her long nails injected the soft skin of my scrotum. i was lost, couldn't remember the question and didn't know the right answer therefor as well. A painful mistake, i can assure you. After that She untied my hands, forcing me on my knees and ordering me to kiss Her bottom. She gave me the direct order to come in three minutes time to show Her how much i worshipped Her, meanwhile kissing and kissing Her bottom.
She is magic, did i already say that?
On Sunday i had to clean Her house, first the dishes, then the bathroom, then the floor, then Her bedroom. It was so amazing to have the honour to do all this for Her, for it really made me feel the slave i always wanted to be: totally obedient and useful (that is, if a slave can be useful at all). Again, Madame Sarka checking my work after i had finished was one of the many highlights of my stay. She didn't bother about the dishes, but the rest She inspected thoroughly. i was completely focused on Her fingers, going through every corner, searching for dust. Madame Sarka doesn't need a whip to make you feel completely helpless, all it takes is Her presence.
Late in the afternoon we said goodbye and it was as if the sky was falling down on me. i had built me some beautiful, beautiful dreams during six years of waiting, just to find out Madame Sarka is much and much bigger then any dream you will ever have. No words will ever do Her justice, for She is the beginning and the end of everything.
When the taxi separated me from Her a dreadful darkness began to swallow me from inside. It was over, i was alone, facing the bars and chains of daily life again. Let there be no mistake, one's you've had the privilege and the honour of serving Madame Sarka, then the real imprisonment starts the moment you leave. Nothing compares to Her and having to leave Her meant dying little by little, piece by piece. Madame Sarka had shown me a mirror in which i saw the man i always wanted to be, and there are not enough words, simply not enough words to thank Her properly for that.
On my knees for You Madame Sarka, worshipping You for giving me so much and for being the most wonderful Madame in the whole wide world. Till we meet again, Madame Sarka, till we meet again.
slave j
Amsterdam
May 27th, 2004
top
i met Her for the very first time in Belgium a few months ago and i came pretty close to dying on that unforgettable day . i was so, so nervous and i feared i would fall to pieces the moment She set eyes on me. One month later i had the true honour of meeting Her again and this time was better already, with only my teeth rattling like castanets all the time. And just last week i met Her again and this time i served Her at the OWK. So six years of waiting ended up in three meetings in a row. Sure, i may be a slow starter, but once i get going there is no holding back.
Madame Sarka is not only the most breathtaking Madame in the world, She is excellent company as well. She has a great sense of humour and on our way to the OWK, driving in Her car, She was very, very sweet to me. She has the power of taking away each and every form of nervousness and that is a true, true gift.
Madame Christine opened the gates of the OWK and Madame Sarka parked the car inside. Here i was, within the walls of that incredible place where i dreamed of for six long years, with the Madame i was literally willing to die for. It was a lovely warm day and while Madame Christine and Madame Sarka greeted each other, i was struck by this almost magical feeling the sun was shining for me and for me alone.
i carried Madame Sarka's luggage to Her room, where She went through mine, asking me if i brought an uniform with me. i must have looked rather stupid, because i wasn't prepared for that. i mean, on almost each and every picture of the OWK slaves are totally naked, so i was completely surprised to hear slaves had to wear uniforms. It was a pity, because now i had to wear my daily clothes during my stay, which was a annoying reminder of the outside world i tried to leave behind.
Madame Sarka explained some basic rules to me, like: always walking a few steps behind Her, opening the door for Her and more of these - almost natural - things. After that we went to the pub, where i had to sit down on a very small and very low wooden stool and listen to a long conversation - in a language i did know nothing about - She had with Madame Christine. Madame Christine's slave (a slave from Norway) had chains on his wrists and ankles and sat on a wooden stool as well. Norwegian wood, you might say.
Madame Sarka had handed me a bowl of water, explaining to me slaves must always eat and drink from such a bowl. i had put it down on the floor, not knowing what to do. Kneel down and drink like a dog? i had no idea and didn't have the guts to ask Her. The chained slave from Norway gave me the answer by lifting the bowl to his lips and drinking from it. Boy, i can be so stupid from time to time, because i really never thought of that possibility.
Madame Sarka told me i had the privilege of watching one of the OWK's newest movies and with much laughter the four of us watched it in the pub, while Madame Sarka used my upper leg as a footstool from time to time. Directly after that we went back to Her room, were She ordered me to strip. The way She said it is really something i will never forget my entire life. One moment She was really friendly to me, the next moment Her voice became rather soft, but nevertheless extremely demanding.
"Strip off."
Each time She said that during my stay shivers ran down my spine. Her voice alone can brake any man, believe me, i am a true witness. Every once in a while i made the mistake of looking directly into Her eyes while She ordered me to strip and i can assure you every tiny little bit of courage runs for cover if you look into that amazing strength that can be there in Her eyes. i'm sure i can stand any form of punishment, no matter how severe, but looking into Her demanding eyes for more then three seconds is definitely impossible.
She chained my wrists to the cross, made me spread my legs and took care of my bottom. The feeling that ran through my body, being completely helpless and at Her mercy, is impossible to describe. i've tried, several times, but the outcome was just nothing compared to the boiling emotions which set me on fire. Then i had to clean Her bathroom and the next hour i was trying to make everything shine like new. As soon as i was finished She inspected my work very thoroughly and that was really nerve-wracking. i felt smaller then a mouse, almost too scared to look, fearing Her voice, fearing Her punishment. It was an outstanding example of pure dominance.
After that i had to shave Her legs and give Her legs and feet a massage. It's not humiliating; it's a true, true reward. Madame Sarka's legs are so, so beautiful and being ordered to touch them is a real treat. If i had my way (no way, slave) i would still be doing it right now, it's something that will never make you tired, never.
The pool game that followed was big fun, it really was. Madame Sarka and Madame Christine played pool and Madame Sarka explained the rules with a big smile. If She or Madame Christine placed a ball in the pocket, the slave would get the reward of kissing Her feet, hands or bottom. If She or Madame Christine missed the ball, the slave would be punished. And boy, boy, did they miss a lot!
i slept on the floor in a room nearby Madame's Sarka's, because i had told Her i use to snore like a sawmill. Probably for my own safety Madame Sarka ordered me sleep in corridor a few restless hours.
The next morning we went to the pub for breakfast and after that i had to polish Madame Sarka's shoes. Sitting on my knees in front of Her, knowing Her eyes were following every movement i made. After breakfast with shoes we returned to Her room where She tied my hands and legs and sat down on my face, squeezing and whipping my little man down under. Her beautiful, beautiful bottom on my face was a true touch of Heaven. At one point She untied my right hand and ordered me to wank off, which was - off course - no punishment at all. i came, while Madame Sarka was sitting on my face, playing with my nipples. O dear me, it was so, so beautiful. She ordered me to clean myself, wash my hands and give Her a leg massage again. From one Heaven to another, i felt blessed, truly, truly blessed.
The world turns, as they say, and it's probably true, but serving Madame Sarka means there is nothing else but Her. No outside world, no daily life, no problems, no fears; just Madame Sarka. Being with Her simply means surrendering your past and your future to Her. For the very first time in my life i felt completely safe and protected and i never thought anyone could make me feel that way, i honestly thought it was impossible. But Madame Sarka did, She really made me feel safe, made me feel protected, just by being there and making me surrender to Her. How can anyone, just anyone, stand in Her shadow?
In the afternoon the four of us played a game of cards, and Madame Sarka applied the same rules She had set during the pool game. With one, little difference: if the slave should win, he would be granted to make a wish. Sounds good? Maybe, but i realised way too well Madame Sarka would always be in control of me (and therefor my wishes) and i just wasn't brave enough to push my luck. Again it made me so aware who was completely in charge of things, in spite of the relaxed atmosphere and all the laughter we had. It made me feel even more submissive to Her, it really did.
The card game was so much fun and we had some big laughs. Madame Sarka had some pretty nice punishments for me in store, like ordering me to stick out my tongue and swallow the ash of Her cigarette, licking the wine of the floor which She had poured for me, and so on. i loved it all, because i was more then sure She could never, ever set a punishment which i would not love to do or take for Her.
Back in Her room i had to give Her back a massage, which again was not healthy for the nerves. Madame Sarka is so amazingly beautiful and touching her naked skin makes your hands tremble like leaves in the wind. You want to look at all this beauty and on the other hand you're almost too scared to do so. The most beautiful (read: difficult) thing was giving a massage to Her arms and hands, because i had to hold Her hand all the time to do the job right. i became really dizzy in my head, i swear it's true, fearing there's a limit to all the beauty a simple slave like me can take.
Late in the evening we drove back to Prague, where i had the immense honour of serving Madame Sarka during the Saturday afternoon and Sunday. On Saturday She came to my hotel room, tied my hands and sat down on my face again, squeezing my balls, putting nasty clips on them and whipping my dick. At one point i made the mistake of giving a stupid answer to one of Her questions and Her long nails injected the soft skin of my scrotum. i was lost, couldn't remember the question and didn't know the right answer therefor as well. A painful mistake, i can assure you. After that She untied my hands, forcing me on my knees and ordering me to kiss Her bottom. She gave me the direct order to come in three minutes time to show Her how much i worshipped Her, meanwhile kissing and kissing Her bottom.
She is magic, did i already say that?
On Sunday i had to clean Her house, first the dishes, then the bathroom, then the floor, then Her bedroom. It was so amazing to have the honour to do all this for Her, for it really made me feel the slave i always wanted to be: totally obedient and useful (that is, if a slave can be useful at all). Again, Madame Sarka checking my work after i had finished was one of the many highlights of my stay. She didn't bother about the dishes, but the rest She inspected thoroughly. i was completely focused on Her fingers, going through every corner, searching for dust. Madame Sarka doesn't need a whip to make you feel completely helpless, all it takes is Her presence.
Late in the afternoon we said goodbye and it was as if the sky was falling down on me. i had built me some beautiful, beautiful dreams during six years of waiting, just to find out Madame Sarka is much and much bigger then any dream you will ever have. No words will ever do Her justice, for She is the beginning and the end of everything.
When the taxi separated me from Her a dreadful darkness began to swallow me from inside. It was over, i was alone, facing the bars and chains of daily life again. Let there be no mistake, one's you've had the privilege and the honour of serving Madame Sarka, then the real imprisonment starts the moment you leave. Nothing compares to Her and having to leave Her meant dying little by little, piece by piece. Madame Sarka had shown me a mirror in which i saw the man i always wanted to be, and there are not enough words, simply not enough words to thank Her properly for that.
On my knees for You Madame Sarka, worshipping You for giving me so much and for being the most wonderful Madame in the whole wide world. Till we meet again, Madame Sarka, till we meet again.
slave j
Amsterdam
May 27th, 2004
Serve in Madame Sarka´s house.
The day begins with a mistake...
i am at Madame Sarka's house and She orders me to bring Her a cup of tea. Simple enough, one might think. i bring Her the cup and Her eyes spit fire.
"Slave!! i ask for a big cup of tea, and this is a big cup, so why did you not fill the cup to here! If i want a little bit of tea I ask for a little cup! Fill the cup properly!"
When i return with the right amount of tea, i know that i have to give Her my very best today...or suffer the consequences.
A few minutes later i am on my knees in Madame Sarka's kitchen, listening to Her voice, watching every movement She makes.
"You clean the dishes and then you clean this and this, take everything out and clean inside."
Her hand waves over the cupboards in the kitchen, and believe me: Madame Sarka has many cupboards in Her kitchen.
"For this," Madame Sarka says with a big smile, "you have all day."
And then i am alone, naked, only wearing the T-shirt with the text Property of Madame Sarka on the back. i look at the battlefield on the kitchen sink, i open the cupboards one by one, staring at the countless things that are waiting to get out.... It's a huge task, but as soon as i start to clean the dishes i begin the sing (in a very soft voice, because i have a voice like a drill and i don't want to displease Madame Sarka). Working for Madame Sarka is like lying in the sun on the most beautiful beach in the world and i know i will never get tired or bored of working for Her. So yes, i sing, while i empty one cupboard after the other, cleaning each and every corner, even those in the back. It's not the first time i have to clean for Madame Sarka, and i know She will go through my work very, very carefully and i know what will happen if i didn't do the job exactly how She wanted it.
Still, i work and sing and it takes only a few hours to finish it all. So i go to Madame Sarka's room, kneel down and tell Her the job is done. Madame Sarka tells me to take my slave position and wait, so i go back to kitchen, kneel down, head to the floor, hands crossed above my head. It's the most beautiful place to be, believe me.
i hear Madame Sarka entering the room and a nervous shiver walks over my body. Madame Sarka opens the cupboards and Her hand reaches out to the most distant corners, searching for dust. As said, this is not the first time, but again i am really scared. The silence is killing me, i follow Her fingers with my eyes, afraid to breathe, afraid to make one sound.
"Now, clean the bathroom, you remember what to do."
It's a big, big relief to know the kitchen job is done according to the standards of Madame Sarka and i go to the bathroom and start cleaning there. i am still busy when Madame Sarka's voice makes me jump into the air.
"Slave! Come here!"
O God!
i fall down on my knees and crawl as fast as i can into Madame Sarka's room. She is standing in the middle of the room, a whip in Her hand.
"You get 10 lashes with this whip because not everything was really clean and you get 10 strokes with the cane (Her finger shows me the direction) because you were very silent yesterday."
That makes me smile, yes, i was silent, but it was because i had displeased Madame Sarka and She was angry with me.
"And you get another 10 for smiling right now!"
My smile runs for cover and i take my position.
"You will count," Madame Sarka says.
And so the punishment begins. The whip is not painful, the first 10 of the cane only a little, but the last 10 are, they really are. Madame Sarka has the gift of exactly hitting the same spot on your ass over and over again, and boy, you start to feel that in the end! When i reach 24 strokes, a voice begs and begs in my head: please, please let the next one be ten centimetres above or under the last one, ten centimetres that's all i am beggi - AU!!!
The punishment is over, we reached the 30 strokes and i kiss the hand that punished me.
"Continue with your work," Madame Sarka says.
And so i do, back to the bathroom, where i live in fear of breaking the glass bowls that are near the mirror, and on to the toilet, where i have to kneel down and scrub the thing to make it shine. After all that i have to clean the floors. Every now and then Madame Sarka comes out of Her room and looks at what i am doing. Believe me, i prefer the beating over those demaning eyes that look at every move i make. i almost drown in fear when Madame Sarka is right behind me, not saying a word, only watching what i am doing. Her power is not the whip or cane, Her power is Her presence.
i work and sing, for this is what i am searching for all my life. The most beautiful Madame in the world to serve, having the privilege to work my ass of for Her, obeying Her blindly in everything. If the job is done correctly, my reward will be a new task; if i mess up i will get punished. Life can be so simple, when you think about it. And yes, once you met Madame Sarka, you realise life can be more then beautiful as well.
i am at Madame Sarka's house and She orders me to bring Her a cup of tea. Simple enough, one might think. i bring Her the cup and Her eyes spit fire.
"Slave!! i ask for a big cup of tea, and this is a big cup, so why did you not fill the cup to here! If i want a little bit of tea I ask for a little cup! Fill the cup properly!"
When i return with the right amount of tea, i know that i have to give Her my very best today...or suffer the consequences.
A few minutes later i am on my knees in Madame Sarka's kitchen, listening to Her voice, watching every movement She makes.
"You clean the dishes and then you clean this and this, take everything out and clean inside."
Her hand waves over the cupboards in the kitchen, and believe me: Madame Sarka has many cupboards in Her kitchen.
"For this," Madame Sarka says with a big smile, "you have all day."
And then i am alone, naked, only wearing the T-shirt with the text Property of Madame Sarka on the back. i look at the battlefield on the kitchen sink, i open the cupboards one by one, staring at the countless things that are waiting to get out.... It's a huge task, but as soon as i start to clean the dishes i begin the sing (in a very soft voice, because i have a voice like a drill and i don't want to displease Madame Sarka). Working for Madame Sarka is like lying in the sun on the most beautiful beach in the world and i know i will never get tired or bored of working for Her. So yes, i sing, while i empty one cupboard after the other, cleaning each and every corner, even those in the back. It's not the first time i have to clean for Madame Sarka, and i know She will go through my work very, very carefully and i know what will happen if i didn't do the job exactly how She wanted it.
Still, i work and sing and it takes only a few hours to finish it all. So i go to Madame Sarka's room, kneel down and tell Her the job is done. Madame Sarka tells me to take my slave position and wait, so i go back to kitchen, kneel down, head to the floor, hands crossed above my head. It's the most beautiful place to be, believe me.
i hear Madame Sarka entering the room and a nervous shiver walks over my body. Madame Sarka opens the cupboards and Her hand reaches out to the most distant corners, searching for dust. As said, this is not the first time, but again i am really scared. The silence is killing me, i follow Her fingers with my eyes, afraid to breathe, afraid to make one sound.
"Now, clean the bathroom, you remember what to do."
It's a big, big relief to know the kitchen job is done according to the standards of Madame Sarka and i go to the bathroom and start cleaning there. i am still busy when Madame Sarka's voice makes me jump into the air.
"Slave! Come here!"
O God!
i fall down on my knees and crawl as fast as i can into Madame Sarka's room. She is standing in the middle of the room, a whip in Her hand.
"You get 10 lashes with this whip because not everything was really clean and you get 10 strokes with the cane (Her finger shows me the direction) because you were very silent yesterday."
That makes me smile, yes, i was silent, but it was because i had displeased Madame Sarka and She was angry with me.
"And you get another 10 for smiling right now!"
My smile runs for cover and i take my position.
"You will count," Madame Sarka says.
And so the punishment begins. The whip is not painful, the first 10 of the cane only a little, but the last 10 are, they really are. Madame Sarka has the gift of exactly hitting the same spot on your ass over and over again, and boy, you start to feel that in the end! When i reach 24 strokes, a voice begs and begs in my head: please, please let the next one be ten centimetres above or under the last one, ten centimetres that's all i am beggi - AU!!!
The punishment is over, we reached the 30 strokes and i kiss the hand that punished me.
"Continue with your work," Madame Sarka says.
And so i do, back to the bathroom, where i live in fear of breaking the glass bowls that are near the mirror, and on to the toilet, where i have to kneel down and scrub the thing to make it shine. After all that i have to clean the floors. Every now and then Madame Sarka comes out of Her room and looks at what i am doing. Believe me, i prefer the beating over those demaning eyes that look at every move i make. i almost drown in fear when Madame Sarka is right behind me, not saying a word, only watching what i am doing. Her power is not the whip or cane, Her power is Her presence.
i work and sing, for this is what i am searching for all my life. The most beautiful Madame in the world to serve, having the privilege to work my ass of for Her, obeying Her blindly in everything. If the job is done correctly, my reward will be a new task; if i mess up i will get punished. Life can be so simple, when you think about it. And yes, once you met Madame Sarka, you realise life can be more then beautiful as well.
To serve a Goddess - Madame Sarka
A diary
Monday 23rd February
This was to be one of the most exciting days of my life, as the world famous Madame Sárka, would be travelling to London where she would be spending a few days relaxing, before moving on to attend some parties and the business of doing what she does best of all! That she had chosen me to stay with for a few days was truly beyond my imagination and comprehension, but when Madame says something - well, you don't argue! The flight from Prague was scheduled to arrive at 20:05, but unfortunately the flight information screen showed that it would not touch down until 20:36. As I had arrived at 19:45 it wasn't a problem for me, but it did increase my nervousness and I wondered if she would be in a bad mood due to the delay. Eventually the clock ticked over to 20:36 and some 20 minutes or so later, I saw a familiar sight as Madame towered over the heads of the other people entering the Arrivals Hall. She is blessed with beauty beyond normal mortals and my heart raced as I greeted her and immediately took her baggage. Quickly making our way to my car, we drove to my home and the short journey passed by in a blur. Upon arrival at my house, I showed Madame around, provided refreshment and presented her with some belated birthday presents. Due to the journey, Madame was tired, thus we soon retired for sleep. I was allowed to sleep in the next room to Madame, which was a privilege beyond belief.
Tuesday 24th February
One of the reasons for Madame's visit was to improve on her already impressive English vocabulary and over the next few days I was to help with this in a number of ways. I was, of course, also her slave, so whatever and whenever Madame wanted something it was my job to do it - or else! One of the things Madame wanted today was to drive around Surrey to check the location of a party she would be attending on Saturday. This however caused some amusement for Madame as she thought Surrey sounded very much like 'sorry' - a word that she had heard uttered from many a slaves lips who had dared to displease her! So after showing Madame the delights of leafy Surrey in winter we eventually arrived home. As is well known from her excellent website, Madame is an avid fan of SM movies and though my collection is not extensive by any means, I did have a copy of Maitresse, which seemed to inspire Madame somewhat, as I was immediately dispatched to her room and told to bring down some rope and her whip. She then proceeded to expertly bind me and subject me to the most exquisite torture imaginable. I have no idea how long it lasted, but an eternity would be insufficient for Madame, as she cruelly set about abusing my pathetic body. Never has a slave suffered more willingly for his Mistress, who took some photos as further humiliation for me and are presented here.
Wednesday 25th February
A quiet day spent sight-seeing in London. It was amusing for me however to note that despite the cosmopolitan make-up of the city and the presence of some undoubtedly beautiful women, Madame consistently turned heads wherever she went - and I alone was in her company - a gift from the Gods indeed! We walked to the Tower of London and I explained and showed as much as I could of my city within a short space of time to my magnificent Mistress.
Thursday 26th February
Today was the day that I presented another gift to our most glorious Madame. I had written a song in her honour, well this was another actually as I had already previously submitted something to celebrate her beauty and cruelty. I'm unsure if it will ever appear anywhere, but if it does, I should maybe explain that the title 'Miss Selena 2015' does actually refer to Madame Sárka. I just used a little artistic licence in stealing the real name of Batman's adversary Catwoman, just as surely as she steals the heart of every slave she ever meets. After some glorious time spent in providing foot and leg massage - I have to report that the day did not end well for me as I made the fatal mistake of upsetting Madame. Punishment was swift and very painful as I was yet again trussed up like a chicken and given a most merciless beating - more photos as proof on the website. I was truly contrite and my misery was only partially relieved when Madame took it upon herself to provide personal instruction in what and how to cook our evening meal. I had learned my lesson well today, Madame Sárka does not suffer fools gladly and I had been the biggest culprit.
Friday 27th February
My final day spent with Madame culminated in a trip to visit her friend in Northampton, Mistress Valkyrie, who was throwing a party at which Madame Sárka was to be one of the guest Mistresses. I shall not write much of what occurred here as a report will appear on Mistress Valkyrie's own website, and I would not wish to infringe on her domain. What I can report however, is that it was indeed a splendid party, hosted by another beautiful dominant Czech lady. I can think of no finer export to this country (albeit briefly in our Madame's case) from the Czech Republic than these two most amazing ladies. To see them so obviously enjoying themselves as they put us slaves through our paces was truly a sight and will provide me with enough memories to last for a lifetime. My ass for one was well marked.
I left the party in a mixture of absolute euphoria at having been in the company of surely the world's greatest domme and a feeling of real emptiness in that my time with her was now over.
Final thoughts
To experience being in the company of Madame Sárka is like nothing else on planet Earth. I have lived for some time now and have experienced many things, feelings and emotions, but I have to report that Madame is unique. There are many claims made by various Mistresses out there to be the 'ultimate Domme', but let me assure you that there is only one, I have met her and her name is Madame Sárka. Once met, forever enslaved.
She came, she saw and she kicked my ass!!!
top
This was to be one of the most exciting days of my life, as the world famous Madame Sárka, would be travelling to London where she would be spending a few days relaxing, before moving on to attend some parties and the business of doing what she does best of all! That she had chosen me to stay with for a few days was truly beyond my imagination and comprehension, but when Madame says something - well, you don't argue! The flight from Prague was scheduled to arrive at 20:05, but unfortunately the flight information screen showed that it would not touch down until 20:36. As I had arrived at 19:45 it wasn't a problem for me, but it did increase my nervousness and I wondered if she would be in a bad mood due to the delay. Eventually the clock ticked over to 20:36 and some 20 minutes or so later, I saw a familiar sight as Madame towered over the heads of the other people entering the Arrivals Hall. She is blessed with beauty beyond normal mortals and my heart raced as I greeted her and immediately took her baggage. Quickly making our way to my car, we drove to my home and the short journey passed by in a blur. Upon arrival at my house, I showed Madame around, provided refreshment and presented her with some belated birthday presents. Due to the journey, Madame was tired, thus we soon retired for sleep. I was allowed to sleep in the next room to Madame, which was a privilege beyond belief.
Tuesday 24th February
One of the reasons for Madame's visit was to improve on her already impressive English vocabulary and over the next few days I was to help with this in a number of ways. I was, of course, also her slave, so whatever and whenever Madame wanted something it was my job to do it - or else! One of the things Madame wanted today was to drive around Surrey to check the location of a party she would be attending on Saturday. This however caused some amusement for Madame as she thought Surrey sounded very much like 'sorry' - a word that she had heard uttered from many a slaves lips who had dared to displease her! So after showing Madame the delights of leafy Surrey in winter we eventually arrived home. As is well known from her excellent website, Madame is an avid fan of SM movies and though my collection is not extensive by any means, I did have a copy of Maitresse, which seemed to inspire Madame somewhat, as I was immediately dispatched to her room and told to bring down some rope and her whip. She then proceeded to expertly bind me and subject me to the most exquisite torture imaginable. I have no idea how long it lasted, but an eternity would be insufficient for Madame, as she cruelly set about abusing my pathetic body. Never has a slave suffered more willingly for his Mistress, who took some photos as further humiliation for me and are presented here.
Wednesday 25th February
A quiet day spent sight-seeing in London. It was amusing for me however to note that despite the cosmopolitan make-up of the city and the presence of some undoubtedly beautiful women, Madame consistently turned heads wherever she went - and I alone was in her company - a gift from the Gods indeed! We walked to the Tower of London and I explained and showed as much as I could of my city within a short space of time to my magnificent Mistress.
Thursday 26th February
Today was the day that I presented another gift to our most glorious Madame. I had written a song in her honour, well this was another actually as I had already previously submitted something to celebrate her beauty and cruelty. I'm unsure if it will ever appear anywhere, but if it does, I should maybe explain that the title 'Miss Selena 2015' does actually refer to Madame Sárka. I just used a little artistic licence in stealing the real name of Batman's adversary Catwoman, just as surely as she steals the heart of every slave she ever meets. After some glorious time spent in providing foot and leg massage - I have to report that the day did not end well for me as I made the fatal mistake of upsetting Madame. Punishment was swift and very painful as I was yet again trussed up like a chicken and given a most merciless beating - more photos as proof on the website. I was truly contrite and my misery was only partially relieved when Madame took it upon herself to provide personal instruction in what and how to cook our evening meal. I had learned my lesson well today, Madame Sárka does not suffer fools gladly and I had been the biggest culprit.
Friday 27th February
My final day spent with Madame culminated in a trip to visit her friend in Northampton, Mistress Valkyrie, who was throwing a party at which Madame Sárka was to be one of the guest Mistresses. I shall not write much of what occurred here as a report will appear on Mistress Valkyrie's own website, and I would not wish to infringe on her domain. What I can report however, is that it was indeed a splendid party, hosted by another beautiful dominant Czech lady. I can think of no finer export to this country (albeit briefly in our Madame's case) from the Czech Republic than these two most amazing ladies. To see them so obviously enjoying themselves as they put us slaves through our paces was truly a sight and will provide me with enough memories to last for a lifetime. My ass for one was well marked.
I left the party in a mixture of absolute euphoria at having been in the company of surely the world's greatest domme and a feeling of real emptiness in that my time with her was now over.
Final thoughts
To experience being in the company of Madame Sárka is like nothing else on planet Earth. I have lived for some time now and have experienced many things, feelings and emotions, but I have to report that Madame is unique. There are many claims made by various Mistresses out there to be the 'ultimate Domme', but let me assure you that there is only one, I have met her and her name is Madame Sárka. Once met, forever enslaved.
She came, she saw and she kicked my ass!!!
My training with Madame Sarka in OWK
(song for Madame Sarka - mp3, 5.640 kB)
The alarm woke me 03:00, although in truth I hardly had need of any alarm, as today I would begin my second journey to the justifiably world famous OWK, and my expectation at once again seeing the most beautiful Mistress on planet Earth in the form of Madame Sárka, meant that sleep was the last thing on my mind. Completing my ablutions and dressing quickly, I was soon on my way to the Airport, my thoughts racing ahead to that most perfect moment when I would be stood before my Mistress, helpless again - dare I look into those languid blue eyes and risk her wrath?? The journey passed uneventfully, but all the time my heart pounded as the kilometres between my home and Prague Airport decreased - indeed I seemed as one in a trance, trying to take in everything about the day, but registering nothing as my thoughts centred totally on the devine Madame Sárka. I wondered what sort of mood she would be in, mischievous, tormenting, cruel, she is capable of anything and everything? Would she even remember me from my previous visit some months before? Why should she, after all I am nothing but a plaything for her, she could toy with me as a cat would with a mouse - purely for her pleasure - and rightfully so, as I exist only to please her. Upon landing at Prague, I truly believed my heart would burst from my chest as the excitement gripped me like the cold iron clasp of a vice and I pondered do all slaves feel like this as they/we go cheerfully to our fate? I decided that this really is a case of Carpe Diem and wished that the magic would last forever.
Swiftly through Customs into the linear Arrivals Hall packed with meeters and greeters, I desperately sought a glimpse of my Mistress until in one heart stopping moment there she was! For those who have never had the good fortune to see Madame Sárka in person, I can assure you that the photos on both the OWK and her own Website do her an extreme injustice, as she is without doubt absolutely stunning. How can one use mere words to describe sheer perfection? Madame was dressed in black and with her long, raven hair cascading over those slender, but powerful shoulders, I can report that everything else in the building disappeared for me as I dimly remember greeting her weakly, "Madame Sárka". Without further ado, or acknowlegement of my existence, she turned quickly and headed for the exit with me trailing behind lost in my own joy of finally being here in her presence.
We were soon on our way through Prague, but before heading off to the OWK there was the small matter of Shaggy to attend to. Shaggy is Madame Sárka's tiny pet dog and needed to be collected en route. Once safely on board the kilometres passed slowly at first, as the morning traffic in Prague seemed to be the equal in terms of volume to the London I had just left. Still, what did I care, I was in the same vehicle as my Mistress and that was enough for me. I was ignored for the whole journey by Madame, who played adoringly with Shaggy who in turn eyed me with curiosity occasionally. Once outside of the city, the kilometres sped by as we made our way along the main route to Brno. I gazed from the back seat window at the countyside, but all the time my mind was fixed on journey's end, the OWK and what I could expect to receive when we arrived - I was travelling with Madame Sárka as not only her slave, but as her Maid - or Sluzka, as she had informed me it was in the Czech language.
Some two hours or so later we left the main highway and pulled onto the road for the Black village. Having visited before I was familiar with the road leading to the OWK and the familiarity felt good, this was like coming home. The huge wooden doors that barred our entrance are one of the most striking features oth OWK, and as I collected both Madame Sárka's and my own luggage from the boot of the car Madame was busy letting the doorman know that she had arrived. Through the entrance he knelt before Madame and kissed her shoes, as is the custom for all inferior male creatures within the one true Magical Kingdom - no apologies to Mr Disney! I struggled through and followed Madame as she made her way into the Long House, and once the formalities were dealt with, she bade me follow her upstairs and into one of the rooms off to the left of the corridor. Once inside I put down the bags as Madame had ordered and took in my surroundings. The first thing I noticed was the St. Andrews cross attached to the wall, swiftly followed by the low iron cage just to the left, I wondered if I would be sampling either of those during the next few days? Madame took out a cigarette and knowing that that was my cue to light it swiftly made my way to her side - experience had taught me before that Madame's patience is not to be abused in any way! Next she told me to take out the contents of my bag, she showed no emotion as I did so, eventually revealing my black taffetta maid's dress. I had also brought some gifts for Madame, among these were a CD containing a song that I had composed in honour of Madame Sárka and a substance called Henna, which I explained was used by Indian Women for decorative purposes. Madame seemed delighted when I added that it could be used by her to 'Tatoo' my ass with her initials, and that the effect would last for two weeks or so!
My next order was to take a shower and change into my maid's uniform wherby I could then begin to serve her fully as her maid. This was to be done quickly, so I wasted no time in complying with Her instructions, despite her beauty I knew that Madame could be utterly ruthless in dealing with any slackness from inefficient maids! As we had arrived at lunch time Madame decided that she was hungry and made her way over to the Pub accompanied by Shaggy and me her faithfull maid. I was expected to open each door for Madame, despite the fact that I was always to be several steps behind her. This is fine and as it should be, but the new high-heeled shoes I was wearing were proving to be 'difficult' to break in - not that Madame paid any attention to my discomfort. Entering the pub proved something of a shock for me as seated at the bar were Madame's Christine, Loreen and an unidentified Lady( I was later to learn that this was Her Majesty the Queen herself), remembering my proper place I knelt down and kissed the shoes of each Superior Lady in turn, taking obvious care not to kiss anything other than the shoes offered to me for treatment. This seemed to satisfy Madame Sárka, possibly pleased that I had not let her down she bade me to sit on a low stool next to her. She ordered a meal and as we waited for its arrival she tested me on some Czech words that I had learned on my previous visit, I was reminded that for each mistake the penalty would be five strokes - oh yes, even maids are subject to harsh discipline! I managed to do quite well only acrueing 15 strokes, but I was warned there would be more new words to learn! Madame ate slowly, occasionally offering scraps to Shaggy who seemed to delight in scampering to and fro around the pub and barked with great gusto for one so small. The Lady's all seemed to know him and indulged him at every opportunity. I was allowed to finish what Madame left as well as having some tea served in one of the water bowls. We spent an hour or so there, it is difficult to reckon time as my watch had been removed before heading back over to Madame's room.
I then spent the most wonderful time thoroughly massaging Madame's feet, before applying nail varnish to her toes. This was a most nerve-wracking experience as I was determined not to make any mistakes that would lead to a beating, slowly, slowly I applied the varnish pausing to inspect my work for any defects. Happily I completed the task without accident or incident and if my Mistress was unhappy with the quality of my work she showed it not - I'm certain that if it had not been up to standard I would definately have known about it! Next, I was required to massage the cuticles of her toes with an aromatic oil. I must say that this is one of the most pleasurable tasks I have ever carried out, I found myself relaxing a little as I worked the oil into Madame's flesh. Finally, I repeated the exercise on Her finger nails, whilst marvelling at the intricacy of the design painted on them - I joked that I hoped that She did not expect me to be able to replicate them! Madame smiled and said that She did not, and that it took up to three hours to carry out that work. To see Madame Sárka smile is a wonderful thing, despite her being a true Goddess, I truly felt exhilerated to see such radience. She followed this by applying the Henna to my ass, taking great great care as She created the legend 'MS' on my bare butt.
We made our way back over to the pub, where Madame spent the time talking and laughing with Madame's Christine and Loreen, and as the conversation was entirely in Czech I have absolutely no idea what was discussed. At one point I was summoned to show Madame Christine the handiwork that was now on my backside - she was most definately amused! Eventually I was dismissed for the remainder of the evening, I was to go back to 'our' room take another shower and arrange the blankets currently located inside the cage, any way I liked on the floor outside but adjacent to the cage, where I was to sleep. Additionally, I was to learn some new Czech words that Madame had placed on my list. Before all of this happened I was to receive my 15 strokes - Madame had not forgotten. I was taken to a bench opposite the pillary and received my 15 strokes, counting them off and thanking Madame in Czech. I returned to the room with my ass smarting.
I slept reasonably well, I guess the long previous day had something to do with that, before waking up to await my next order. It was not long in coming. I was to shower, dress and then go over to the pub and prepare breakfast for Madame. I hurried over to the pub as fast as I could and was greeted with the sight of Madame Christine already taking refreshment, I carried out the usual greeting met with supreme indifference from Madame Christine. I managed to speak with one of the permanent male slaves, who helped me prepare Madame Sarka's meal. On my way back to Madame, wouldn't you believe it a gentle rain had started to fall. Trying to cover the food as best I could I made my way swiftly to Madame's room. She was still in bed when I returned, so I arranged the tray so that Madame could eat in comfort. Upon completion, I was given some menial tasks to carry out whilst Madame prepared herself for the day ahead. This was to consist of watching some new recently shot video tape footge that will eventually become a new OWK film in the pub. I considered myself to be incredibly lucky to be able to see this too, as I was seated at Madame's side throughout - when I was not acting as a footstool for Her. In the afternoon I had the pleasure of massaging Madame's legs, this is truly what being a maid is all about, to be able to provide such a service is beyond doubt one of the highlights of my life.
I was tested again on the new words I had been tasked to learn, and despite performing to the best of my ability, it clearly was not good enough as I made enough mistakes to warrant 90 strokes! I was taken to the pillary and secured to await my punishment, it did not take long for Madame to get into her rhythm! I had learned to count to 20 in Czech but no further, this did not go down well with Madame Sárka, who spurred me on by providing me with the correct starter for the next 10 strokes. I was to count all the strokes and of course thank Madame for each. She changed implements frequently. The pain was tremendous by the time I reached 60, but Madame was unrelenting, still the strokes came and the pain grew ever more excruciating - She was clearly enjoying herself now! I felt myself growing weak and dizzy until suddenly it was over, the beating stopped and I felt myself being released from the stocks. I slumped to to the floor in a pathetic heap as Madame stood over me, me a crumpled dishevelled mess. Her tall, dominant and Goddess like. I dragged my bruised and battered body back to the room where I was to once again to prepare myself for sleep.
My final day - well morning actually, as my flight back home was scheduled for mid afternoon, passed so quickly that it seemed tragically unfair. Madame did not wish to be served breakfast in bed we had to go over to the pub. A light meal was followed by another good thorough beating despite me not having broken any rules - at least I don't think I did, but as Madame is Madame I thought it best not to enquire if there was any reason for my punishment. At least she seemed pleased and that's fair enough. Time to inspect the bruises - they should be there for a few days at least and then off to return to 'normality'.
What can I say about Madame Sárka? I could wax lyrical and extol her virtues until the very end of time, but I fear that I would still have insufficient superlatives to spend. She is the Absolute, The One, the True Goddess Devine.
I loved every second of the time I spent in the OWK, it has taken me years to realise and recognise my true nature and now, through Madame Sárka and the OWK I have found it.
God bless you.
Male maid Peggy
top
The alarm woke me 03:00, although in truth I hardly had need of any alarm, as today I would begin my second journey to the justifiably world famous OWK, and my expectation at once again seeing the most beautiful Mistress on planet Earth in the form of Madame Sárka, meant that sleep was the last thing on my mind. Completing my ablutions and dressing quickly, I was soon on my way to the Airport, my thoughts racing ahead to that most perfect moment when I would be stood before my Mistress, helpless again - dare I look into those languid blue eyes and risk her wrath?? The journey passed uneventfully, but all the time my heart pounded as the kilometres between my home and Prague Airport decreased - indeed I seemed as one in a trance, trying to take in everything about the day, but registering nothing as my thoughts centred totally on the devine Madame Sárka. I wondered what sort of mood she would be in, mischievous, tormenting, cruel, she is capable of anything and everything? Would she even remember me from my previous visit some months before? Why should she, after all I am nothing but a plaything for her, she could toy with me as a cat would with a mouse - purely for her pleasure - and rightfully so, as I exist only to please her. Upon landing at Prague, I truly believed my heart would burst from my chest as the excitement gripped me like the cold iron clasp of a vice and I pondered do all slaves feel like this as they/we go cheerfully to our fate? I decided that this really is a case of Carpe Diem and wished that the magic would last forever.
Swiftly through Customs into the linear Arrivals Hall packed with meeters and greeters, I desperately sought a glimpse of my Mistress until in one heart stopping moment there she was! For those who have never had the good fortune to see Madame Sárka in person, I can assure you that the photos on both the OWK and her own Website do her an extreme injustice, as she is without doubt absolutely stunning. How can one use mere words to describe sheer perfection? Madame was dressed in black and with her long, raven hair cascading over those slender, but powerful shoulders, I can report that everything else in the building disappeared for me as I dimly remember greeting her weakly, "Madame Sárka". Without further ado, or acknowlegement of my existence, she turned quickly and headed for the exit with me trailing behind lost in my own joy of finally being here in her presence.
We were soon on our way through Prague, but before heading off to the OWK there was the small matter of Shaggy to attend to. Shaggy is Madame Sárka's tiny pet dog and needed to be collected en route. Once safely on board the kilometres passed slowly at first, as the morning traffic in Prague seemed to be the equal in terms of volume to the London I had just left. Still, what did I care, I was in the same vehicle as my Mistress and that was enough for me. I was ignored for the whole journey by Madame, who played adoringly with Shaggy who in turn eyed me with curiosity occasionally. Once outside of the city, the kilometres sped by as we made our way along the main route to Brno. I gazed from the back seat window at the countyside, but all the time my mind was fixed on journey's end, the OWK and what I could expect to receive when we arrived - I was travelling with Madame Sárka as not only her slave, but as her Maid - or Sluzka, as she had informed me it was in the Czech language.
Some two hours or so later we left the main highway and pulled onto the road for the Black village. Having visited before I was familiar with the road leading to the OWK and the familiarity felt good, this was like coming home. The huge wooden doors that barred our entrance are one of the most striking features oth OWK, and as I collected both Madame Sárka's and my own luggage from the boot of the car Madame was busy letting the doorman know that she had arrived. Through the entrance he knelt before Madame and kissed her shoes, as is the custom for all inferior male creatures within the one true Magical Kingdom - no apologies to Mr Disney! I struggled through and followed Madame as she made her way into the Long House, and once the formalities were dealt with, she bade me follow her upstairs and into one of the rooms off to the left of the corridor. Once inside I put down the bags as Madame had ordered and took in my surroundings. The first thing I noticed was the St. Andrews cross attached to the wall, swiftly followed by the low iron cage just to the left, I wondered if I would be sampling either of those during the next few days? Madame took out a cigarette and knowing that that was my cue to light it swiftly made my way to her side - experience had taught me before that Madame's patience is not to be abused in any way! Next she told me to take out the contents of my bag, she showed no emotion as I did so, eventually revealing my black taffetta maid's dress. I had also brought some gifts for Madame, among these were a CD containing a song that I had composed in honour of Madame Sárka and a substance called Henna, which I explained was used by Indian Women for decorative purposes. Madame seemed delighted when I added that it could be used by her to 'Tatoo' my ass with her initials, and that the effect would last for two weeks or so!
My next order was to take a shower and change into my maid's uniform wherby I could then begin to serve her fully as her maid. This was to be done quickly, so I wasted no time in complying with Her instructions, despite her beauty I knew that Madame could be utterly ruthless in dealing with any slackness from inefficient maids! As we had arrived at lunch time Madame decided that she was hungry and made her way over to the Pub accompanied by Shaggy and me her faithfull maid. I was expected to open each door for Madame, despite the fact that I was always to be several steps behind her. This is fine and as it should be, but the new high-heeled shoes I was wearing were proving to be 'difficult' to break in - not that Madame paid any attention to my discomfort. Entering the pub proved something of a shock for me as seated at the bar were Madame's Christine, Loreen and an unidentified Lady( I was later to learn that this was Her Majesty the Queen herself), remembering my proper place I knelt down and kissed the shoes of each Superior Lady in turn, taking obvious care not to kiss anything other than the shoes offered to me for treatment. This seemed to satisfy Madame Sárka, possibly pleased that I had not let her down she bade me to sit on a low stool next to her. She ordered a meal and as we waited for its arrival she tested me on some Czech words that I had learned on my previous visit, I was reminded that for each mistake the penalty would be five strokes - oh yes, even maids are subject to harsh discipline! I managed to do quite well only acrueing 15 strokes, but I was warned there would be more new words to learn! Madame ate slowly, occasionally offering scraps to Shaggy who seemed to delight in scampering to and fro around the pub and barked with great gusto for one so small. The Lady's all seemed to know him and indulged him at every opportunity. I was allowed to finish what Madame left as well as having some tea served in one of the water bowls. We spent an hour or so there, it is difficult to reckon time as my watch had been removed before heading back over to Madame's room.
I then spent the most wonderful time thoroughly massaging Madame's feet, before applying nail varnish to her toes. This was a most nerve-wracking experience as I was determined not to make any mistakes that would lead to a beating, slowly, slowly I applied the varnish pausing to inspect my work for any defects. Happily I completed the task without accident or incident and if my Mistress was unhappy with the quality of my work she showed it not - I'm certain that if it had not been up to standard I would definately have known about it! Next, I was required to massage the cuticles of her toes with an aromatic oil. I must say that this is one of the most pleasurable tasks I have ever carried out, I found myself relaxing a little as I worked the oil into Madame's flesh. Finally, I repeated the exercise on Her finger nails, whilst marvelling at the intricacy of the design painted on them - I joked that I hoped that She did not expect me to be able to replicate them! Madame smiled and said that She did not, and that it took up to three hours to carry out that work. To see Madame Sárka smile is a wonderful thing, despite her being a true Goddess, I truly felt exhilerated to see such radience. She followed this by applying the Henna to my ass, taking great great care as She created the legend 'MS' on my bare butt.
We made our way back over to the pub, where Madame spent the time talking and laughing with Madame's Christine and Loreen, and as the conversation was entirely in Czech I have absolutely no idea what was discussed. At one point I was summoned to show Madame Christine the handiwork that was now on my backside - she was most definately amused! Eventually I was dismissed for the remainder of the evening, I was to go back to 'our' room take another shower and arrange the blankets currently located inside the cage, any way I liked on the floor outside but adjacent to the cage, where I was to sleep. Additionally, I was to learn some new Czech words that Madame had placed on my list. Before all of this happened I was to receive my 15 strokes - Madame had not forgotten. I was taken to a bench opposite the pillary and received my 15 strokes, counting them off and thanking Madame in Czech. I returned to the room with my ass smarting.
I slept reasonably well, I guess the long previous day had something to do with that, before waking up to await my next order. It was not long in coming. I was to shower, dress and then go over to the pub and prepare breakfast for Madame. I hurried over to the pub as fast as I could and was greeted with the sight of Madame Christine already taking refreshment, I carried out the usual greeting met with supreme indifference from Madame Christine. I managed to speak with one of the permanent male slaves, who helped me prepare Madame Sarka's meal. On my way back to Madame, wouldn't you believe it a gentle rain had started to fall. Trying to cover the food as best I could I made my way swiftly to Madame's room. She was still in bed when I returned, so I arranged the tray so that Madame could eat in comfort. Upon completion, I was given some menial tasks to carry out whilst Madame prepared herself for the day ahead. This was to consist of watching some new recently shot video tape footge that will eventually become a new OWK film in the pub. I considered myself to be incredibly lucky to be able to see this too, as I was seated at Madame's side throughout - when I was not acting as a footstool for Her. In the afternoon I had the pleasure of massaging Madame's legs, this is truly what being a maid is all about, to be able to provide such a service is beyond doubt one of the highlights of my life.
I was tested again on the new words I had been tasked to learn, and despite performing to the best of my ability, it clearly was not good enough as I made enough mistakes to warrant 90 strokes! I was taken to the pillary and secured to await my punishment, it did not take long for Madame to get into her rhythm! I had learned to count to 20 in Czech but no further, this did not go down well with Madame Sárka, who spurred me on by providing me with the correct starter for the next 10 strokes. I was to count all the strokes and of course thank Madame for each. She changed implements frequently. The pain was tremendous by the time I reached 60, but Madame was unrelenting, still the strokes came and the pain grew ever more excruciating - She was clearly enjoying herself now! I felt myself growing weak and dizzy until suddenly it was over, the beating stopped and I felt myself being released from the stocks. I slumped to to the floor in a pathetic heap as Madame stood over me, me a crumpled dishevelled mess. Her tall, dominant and Goddess like. I dragged my bruised and battered body back to the room where I was to once again to prepare myself for sleep.
My final day - well morning actually, as my flight back home was scheduled for mid afternoon, passed so quickly that it seemed tragically unfair. Madame did not wish to be served breakfast in bed we had to go over to the pub. A light meal was followed by another good thorough beating despite me not having broken any rules - at least I don't think I did, but as Madame is Madame I thought it best not to enquire if there was any reason for my punishment. At least she seemed pleased and that's fair enough. Time to inspect the bruises - they should be there for a few days at least and then off to return to 'normality'.
What can I say about Madame Sárka? I could wax lyrical and extol her virtues until the very end of time, but I fear that I would still have insufficient superlatives to spend. She is the Absolute, The One, the True Goddess Devine.
I loved every second of the time I spent in the OWK, it has taken me years to realise and recognise my true nature and now, through Madame Sárka and the OWK I have found it.
God bless you.
Male maid Peggy
