The Story of My Permanent Slave (Klelia Testimony)

The Story of My Permanent Slave (Klelia Testimony)

The Story of My Permanent Slave (Klelia Testimony).

Slave at Home, my Story as a Permanent Slave. Here’s my story… You often ask questions about how we met, our daily lives and how Maîtresse became the person you know…

Following the competition launched by Maîtresse Julia in her second Newsletter, I decided to take part with my testimonial. As I’m in charge of managing this site and I’ve seen all your letters and testimonials, each one more beautiful than the last, I decided to take part too. Don’t worry, I’m not entering to win a session 😎😂

So, I’m going to try and describe how we met and how I see my Wife and Mistress. Given the number of questions some of you are asking, this should provide some answers about my life as a House Slave ^^

Introduction: Before Becoming Permanent Slave:

I don’t know where to start with the verbiage about how I feel about the woman in my life, the one I’ve been looking for since I first knew about this feeling… love… (Well… I’m only 33). This Mistress, this confidante, this lover, this friend who would not judge and who would be loving. Who would also listen to my own contradictions as a lost being. Who would give me the courage to confront a dilettante society collapsing day by day.

Turning to the opium of the masses, I had never found my opium until now. Turning to alternative treatments to ease the pain of wandering in this world.

To sum up, I think that, rather than a thousand words, a few lines from that wonderful poem by Baudelaire in his best-known collection ‘Les Fleurs du Mal’ (The Flowers of Evil) would sum up a lot of things:

Wine can dress up the most sordid of rooms
With miraculous luxury,
And raises more than one fabulous portico
In the gold of its red vapour,
Like a setting sun in a nebulous sky.

Opium enlarges what has no limits,
lengthens the limitless,
Deepens time, hollows out voluptuousness,
And with black and dreary pleasures
Fills the soul beyond its capacity.

All this is not worth the poison that flows
From your eyes, your green eyes,
Lakes where my soul trembles and sees itself upside down...
My dreams come in droves
To quench their thirst in these bitter pits.

All this is not worth the terrible wonder
Of your saliva that bites,
That plunges my remorseless soul into oblivion,
And, carrying vertigo,
Rolls it fainting to the shores of death!

The Classic Alien Path:

Before I became a Abiding Slave, and like many of you, I discovered this penchant for submission towards Women as a child. Very cerebral, with an intensity that gives the impression of being able to cut this brain off from all the everyday problems of a lifetime. Like a second entity materialised during a period of sharing when you put your heart and soul into the one you love.

In fact, in my former life, I knew quite a few girls and all kinds of relationships (one-night stands, from a few days to a few weeks, from a few months to a few years). I wanted to prove to myself that I couldn’t be myself and that my desire for submission was unnatural. So I tried to be the person I wasn’t. To give you an idea, I never felt the slightest pleasure in the traditional act. In short, I saw it as an expression of our animality, without any sensuality… To prove what I wasn’t, I tried to do it… many, many times…

Moreover, for those who were more than a few weeks old. Or for the few who had the feeling of love at the tip of their skin, I was always frank about what I was. Submissive. Never understood, never listened to, sometimes insulted or compared to a paedophile (true). Since when is sincerity worth being so despised?

So, 5 years ago, after my last ‘serious’ relationship (which isn’t a serious relationship unless you try to understand the other person), I swore to myself that I would never make that mistake again. From then on, I was ready to spend my life alone. A chimney dream, isolated from society, surrounded by books from another time. The present definitely didn’t want me.

Making contact :

In fact, I’d known Maîtresse for a few years. And I don’t know why, but Maîtresse attracted me enormously. At first sight. Not for her looks (I’m an alien) but for something I still can’t put into words.

Was it his inner warmth? It could have been! The vivacity of his mind? Perhaps! A little air of authority? Maybe! What’s more, at the time, Maîtresse was not free. Consequently, she was not prepared to hear and receive comments from another planet. I returned to my burrow.

Some time later, we were invited to a wedding. Weddings… Turn over the napkins”, forced togetherness between people who usually hate each other… In short, everything I love. We spend the evening together. We laugh, we get drunk, we talk politics (in the Greek sense of the word).

Where am I? I no longer felt like I was at a wedding. In fact, I was no longer there. I was with her in a microcosm that we had managed to create for one evening. It’s what I’ve always dreamed of… to be able to say to ourselves that we’re not where we are at any given moment. What intensity!

the Approach, the first step towards my life as a permanent slave

A few months later, Facebook is still all the rage. We’re chatting about a status I’m publishing about a possible forthcoming economic crisis. We’re chatting in private. Blimey… This woman is interested in a subject that usually doesn’t interest anyone… let alone women.

What’s more, she doesn’t criticise my view of things, but listens and asks for information… Another point! Someone in the 21st century doesn’t question facts and seeks to know. To know. The 21st century. Knowledge. What an antithesis. Anachronistic.

Then, a few days go by. In fact, that discussion and that evening at the wedding haunted me. How was it possible to achieve something I’d never been able to achieve before? Cerebral escape with another soul?

Tell him… Take courage in both hands

For these reasons, I decided to return to her… And I set out my research directly. In reality, what have I got to lose?

• Hello, so here it is … In reality, I’m a submissive. In fact, I’d like to become your slave and belong to you like a piece of furniture if I have to… Work for you, live for you… and so on…

At this point, I feel sick… My heart is racing. She doesn’t answer. My heart is going to explode. In fact, that’s it, I’m having a heart attack, at my age 😅. Convinced I’ll never find someone who understands me. She starts writing. I’ll let you in on a secret, but Madame likes to be alone… So offering to become a piece of furniture means having someone in her field of vision…

Sparing you the details, she finds this proposal ‘funny’.
“Funny’? That’s the first time someone hasn’t told me it’s ‘weird’. She asked for details. I explain how I see things. I’m trying it out.
As you can see, the trial was a success…

What’s Running Through Me Today :

Through this passion and Mistress’s choice to welcome you, we live a life 100% dedicated to BDSM. It is still sometimes complicated to combine a professional life focused on this field with finding the time to practise together. This sometimes leads to a certain personal frustration. Even so, I really enjoy hearing Mistress tell me about the sessions when she welcomes you. I also enjoy meeting you, picking you up from the station and talking to other aliens like myself 😄😅

However, what I can tell you is that I’ve never met a woman like Mistress. I love looking at her… What am I saying… Admiring that deep gaze that totally loses me in the intensity and nebulousness of her complex thought. I haven’t achieved any great things in my life. But one thing is certain: I made the best choice of my short life.

From now on, I know why I gave myself (and wish to give myself 100%) to this woman. Maîtresse is an exceptional person. When I made this request, she could have destroyed me, taken advantage of the situation, that’s what I was proposing and I didn’t care what form it would have taken. My desire to serve came first. But that’s not at all what happened. Maîtresse first of all helped me to rebuild my life. Helped me deal with the difficulties I may have encountered in my past. She always listened to me, was understanding and loving.

Maîtresse is the chimera that has haunted my nights and driven me to despair since I was 15. How could I find someone who could understand me and accept me fully? It’s done. She is my days and nights, always listening and without judgement.

What I am thanks to Mistress :

I love my Mistress more than anything else in the world and nothing can stand in the way of my decision to place myself at her feet. The intensity that runs through my body as I write these lines cannot be accurately conveyed in these few lines. Sometimes words aren’t strong enough to express the gratitude and veneration I feel for my soul mate. A soul that now fully belongs to her.

Today, I’m an accomplished man. How can I express the inexpressible? I have given all possession to Mistress. I’ve got rid of (and am still getting rid of) all the constraints of my previous life. The more the days go by, the freer I feel. Free to be what I want to be, without judgement. Free to serve the woman I love and the woman to whom I’ve decided to give my body and soul.

In conclusion, sometimes there’s just a tunnel separating two lights. Thank you for bringing my heart and soul together through your authority and your loving ear! Thank you for being the one who, day after day, fills my veins with happiness at your side. Today I have found what Baudelaire called a poison or drug that suits me perfectly, for which no substitute can be found, and which will allow me to leave this world that is not mine in loving surrender. In fact, I cannot express the gratitude I feel for knowing the woman who made my dream come true.

Klélia – Entirely yours! The Story of the Permanent Slave to my Mistress

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