Serving Bond-Maid Style

I'll never forget the first time I went to a Gorean room based on the Northern ways... those of Torvaldsland. A friend of mine that I had been close to for many years and that I had trained with in many different ways for our online chosen way of life, told me that I just had to check out. She knew after my release with the man that I thought was to be my love Master, I needed a break and the change would do me good. Well the rule in this particular room was that I could visit three times and after the third visit I either had to beg steel or be tossed into a bondmaid circle. There was no just "hanging out" in this room. They really wanted you to get involved.

There was just something about that room that drew me in... something that said "this is for me" and I knew that the change and the new way of serving would be the best medicine for my broken heart. I needed time to heal and something to occupy my mind. What better way than throwing yourself into something brand new full force? So on the third visit, I was reminded once again that the next time I came, to be prepared to wear steel. Well I came again and sure enough was collared... hammered steel, true to Northern ways and then, before I could even react, was put into a branding rack.

Now I had never been branded before and haven't been since. The thing is... that brand, the one used by Ivar Forkbeard, the brand of the North, that is one of my most cherished possessions online. It's branded on the inside of my right thigh. I played out the whole scenario and, honestly, felt that part of my slavery for the first time online. It didn't matter that the Jarl that actually branded me didn't care one iota for me or me for him. He was doing it for the Mistress that had branded me. And I didn't even stay in that room long because their first axe broke loose and started to his own room and I quickly followed behind him.

That was the room... that was the collar that really "saved" the online me. I had a chain sister in this collar and she taught me how to let go. I had always served what they call "silk slave" or Southern kajira style... very wordy, very descriptive but not a lot of heat. A lot was left to the imagination. In the South, kajira were pretty much like what I like to describe as slutty Southern belles. *chuckles* They teased a lot and knew that it was better to be seen than heard.

Well in the North, it is totally opposite. Slave girls in the North are called bondmaids and their serves are short, to the point and so hot that they make even the other girls sweat! My chain sister told me once, and I quote, "If it doesn't make me wet, it's not hot enough." *laughs* I love that girl! I still, to this day, use that line whenever I am training a new girl bondmaid style. Yachida worked with me diligently every day in an attempt to get over this wall that I had erected as a Southern kajira. I just couldn't seem to get over that hump between teasing and being blatantly delicious.

But in time, I did and when it finally clicked, I knew I had found my place. Now that was a couple of years ago but that is what has really formed me into the online persona that I am now. There's no question about it... I am a bondmaid. Sure, I can serve Southern kajira style but I do best northern style. That's just me.

I figured that seeing a comparison in the way in which they both serve might help you see the difference...

Southern approach to a Master:
- rocks back on bared heels to rise upwards with feline grace, slender fingers danced over purple-hued silks that accentuate each curve and valley, chin tilting upwards proudly to display hammered steel as auburn curls cascade in a waterfall of fire around rolling shoulders, moving to where Master BlahBlah rests she melts downwards before him with ease, silken thighs blooming wide for his pleasure, palms upturned to his will as her voice lifts in a sultry cares... "May girl please you in some way, Master?"

Northern approach to a Jarl:
- bared feet dance the wanton beast into the kitchen, fingers curling around a pitcher of mead and a large horn, pulling it close to trembling slave belly as she turns to move back out into the main hall of the holding, decadent rock and dip of round hips beckoning his grasp and thrust, full breasts lifted above tapered waist, achingly tight nipples seem to beg for the heat of his mouth as she slithers close, pressing seductively to his strong arm her voice like a heated caress full of promise on his ear as she whispers... "Mead, Jarl? Or perhaps the slut that serves it?"

As you can see, there is a bit more difference. *chuckles* In my opinion, the bondmaids seem to have more fun and I think you can see why I prefer this particular style of serving. If I've piqued your curiosity, Gor is only a chat room away. See you there!