The Dragon King's Servant

Servant in waiting

'It was strange...even back then it was weird. I was weird. Different from the others. While everyone hung out in groups, I kept mostly to myself. Not because I couldn't make friends...but because those that wanted to be friends with me didn't really understand me. Not truly.

While the boys all wanted to be in the police or fire academy, maybe military of some sort too; and the girls wanted to be nurses or medics. None of that sounded interesting to me. Back then I couldn't understand why either, or maybe I did know and I couldn't admit it to myself. Truth is, what I enjoyed...was something far different.

What I wanted, was to be a service slave. What nineteen year old girl wants to be a slave? It seems ridiculous and yet, that's what I wanted. That is all that sounded good to me, even back then. There was no one who could understand that desire. No, not when they all wanted to be nurses and police officers and doctors.

Who could understand what I wanted or why I wanted it? Back then I didn't even understand why I wanted it either. I just remember watching videos and reading the personal recounts of sex slaves. It looked like fun. It felt right. To offer my body, my personal skills and desires to another.

I had no idea where to go for something like that and who would take a high-school girl in for that. Little did I know there was a world far greater for people like me out there. And little did I know, that there were far stranger things out there than me.'

Melanie slid her diary into the cupboard along side all the rest of them. Ten journals, each one a different color and each one spanning just shy of ten months. Nearly nine years she had been Journaling. Writing her private thoughts, the thoughts that no one else could understand.Not even her foster parents.

Melanie got up from her bed and took a look around her room. Her room, which sat nestled away in the attic above the dining area; was a space just smaller than the average bedroom. Her twin bed, covered with a bed spread of red blossoms against white fabric, sat centered in the room.

She had no bed frame nor head board. Only a box spring and mattress. It wasn't that she didn't have one, but rather she didn't want one. Bed frames made too much noise, the metal frame creaked and groaned when she shifted. It made far too much noise in the early and late hours of the day, which was her best times to masturbate.

The hard wood floors were sealed with a glossy finish which ensured she wouldn't get splinters when she walked through the attic on barefeet. A small window, adjacent from the bed against the far left wall, looked out over a small field. Across the field was the highway. During the late hours of night she could hear the large trucks and revving cars speed down the road.

Sitting in the right corner of the room was a three tiered book shelf. The shelves were crammed with romance and fantasy novels. Something that took up much of her free time was reading. Though, her most prized book of all was not amongst the crammed shelves. Melanie walked across the room and pulled out the top drawer of her dresser.

The drawer slid harshly open as the wooden frame scraped against wooden drawer. Lining the drawer were panties and bras. Most of her panties were red and rose pink thongs. Her size five waistline would've looked petite on any other woman of average height.

But Melanie, who was a solid five-foot two and one hundred and ten pounds, wore a size five waist line with curvaceous fashion. She pushed away the panties and bras. The bras were all black. Some were lacy and others had mesh, but all were a straight C-cup. Thirty-six C to be precise. On a short curvy young woman such as Melanie, her breasrs looked a bit too large for her body.

As she cleared the front of the drawer, a single black thread remained. Looking no more suspicious than a loose bit of stuck fabric, she pulled at the thread and the false bottom of the drawer flipped open. Hidden underneath were three books. The books were plain looking. No more outstanding in appearance than the customary Bible found in every hotel desk drawer.

The three books were solid black with silver engraved lettering that was hard to read unless it was looked at directly from above. These were her most prized possessions. Melanie touched the black leather books individually, sliding her fingers over the lavishly flourishing details of the script on the cover. These were her holy scripture.

Melanie did not just practice it, she lived it. For three straight years she had taken the teachings from the book and made them into her life. Like every philospher made it point to know Confucius or for every warrior to know the guide lines of Bushido; Melanie had made it her duty to learn every rule and guideline of the submissive handbook.

She picked up the first book and slid the drawer closed before walking over to the left corner of her attic room and sitting on a small chair nestled with a small patio set table.

'A submissive servant should be prepared always. Whether it be for mundane use that is equal to that of a house wife (as was covered in chapter twenty) or for more extensive use. It is the job of the submissive to remain clean, properly ready and prepared for any such use that the dominant and/or master requires.

The best way to do that is to form a routine. A routine is best laid out between both submissive and dominant. However, spontaneity is within the dominant's power too. Should the master wish to break routine it is the responsibility of the submissive to become flexible.

(As covered in chapter thirteen; a submissive must be strict but loose, firm yet fluid.) This takes time to achieve and it is the responsibility of the master to understand patience and proper training. To remain prepared, form a routine of constant hygiene and awareness of both you and your dominant.

How are they feeling? How are you feeling? Where are they going? Are you going with and where will you be? Make sure you pack the appropriate tools for the trip. Be it a long vacation or a day out. Ensure you have all that you need to be ready for anything your dominant desires.

Adapt to the changes that come from this. Both you and your dominant will undergo various shifts as your lives change; what they want and how they want it may alter from how it was originally discussed and thus we move into our next chapter; communication. A pillar of of every relationship and partnership. Be it business, personal, romantic or otherwise.'

Melanie closed the book and slid it back into the drawer before she covered it up with panties and bras once more. As she sat down on the edge of her bed with a heavy sigh. She wondered if there was a man out there who was looking for her. A person who was thinking and dreaming for a submissive like her.

The same way she was dreaming about them. She glanced at herself in the full body mirror. Melanie was not model gorgeous but she was above average in the natural beauty department. She had a lean figure with a natural hour glass shape and a toned buttocks that looked like a pilattes instructor's ass when she wore leggings.

Her breasts were large but not giant and they were perky. Almost plastic surgery perky. Her stomach was flat and her pelvis had a perfectly trimmed triangle facing downward, directly aimed at her hooded clitoris. She opened her legs and inspected her labia. 'Chapter Ten of book two in the submissive series' every submissive must know their body, inside and out.

The size of the waist and chest, the feel of their insides, even the length and sensitivity of their vagina. All of it is important. For the better a submissive knows themselves, the better they can know how to properly please their dominant in a way that works to the submissive's advantage.

Melanie peeled open her half inch long labia and looked at her vaginal opening. It was bright pink and fairly closed. Mostly because she was not aroused yet. Nestled at the apex of her vagina, hidden within a fleshy tent, was her clitoris. She had made it a point to understand herself down to the very last eyelash.

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