The Diaries of Ay'esha

The Diaries of Ay'esha tell the story of Michael Forbin's abduction and training by a member of a secret society named Ay'esha. The avowed purpose of this group of women is to bring peace to the world by training the men in the world into submission and manipulating them into doing the bidding of the group.

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The Diaries of Ayesha

Waiting for God-dess

Author: Dr. Charles Forbin
©Copyright 1997

As of late I've noticed something. Some of the Mistresses I serve have developed a habit of making me wait for answers. Now part of a slave's duty is to wait for the attention of his Mistress, and I am very well aware of that fact.

Oh Goddess am I aware of THAT fact!

Where do you draw the line between being patient and feeling abused or ignored though?

Not a simple question by any means.

When you ask a Mistress something on the telephone and she says I'll call you back later, how much later is later? It's a child's question to be sure, but as submissives we are children of a sort.

And when she never calls back, do you comment on it, or ignore it?

As of late I have spent many hours as Tom Lerher put it, sitting all alone and waiting for the phone to ring.

In fact I spent most of my last vacation waiting for the phone to ring with answers to simple questions such as "Are we attending the party tonight?", or "Shall I take you to dinner tonight?"

I asked the last question at four o'clock and it's now nine o'clock. Of the next day.

I assume by this point in time the answer is no.

But I may actually find out later I assumed the wrong thing. Perhaps I was supposed to pester the Mistress.

But I like to think I know better. She hates being pestered.

Mary Poppins once commented "I never explain anything."

And as a submissive, I wouldn't think of asking for an explanation as to why a Mistress didin't call me back. She must have her reasons. And they must be good ones.

After all, affairs of state come before affairs of state.

On more than one occasion I have had a dinner appointment with Mistress Minx canceled with a simple comment.

"Ay'esha business."

Now that's an answer I can't even think of disagreeing with.

Mind you, you can tell yourself that something prevented her from calling only so long before you start doubting yourself or worse yet, your Mistress.

Oh and for the record, Mistress Minx and I have never dated.

We have appointments to meet for dinner.


So in a sense this is about discourtesy. On both ends of the leash.

Mistresses demand respect and they do earn it. At least mine does.

But with that comes a need to respect the real world obligations of the slave.

As a submissive, if you say you'll call at a certain time or be at a certain place at a certain time, you are expected to do it.

Conversly, as a submissive, I expect the same things of my Mistress.

Am I expecting too much? After all I'm only a slave.

No. I'm also very human with very human needs and requirements.

Despite my tendancy to wear a pig nose with pride.


A Mistress is an avatar of the Goddess. She is expected to be perfect.

In reality, she is just as human and as mortal as the rest of us.

She has her good days and her bad days just like the rest of us.


A young Mistress in North Carolina that I serve via E-mail once expressed concern that I seemed distant in my responses to her.

I thought about it and conceeded she might have a point. I tend to get preoccupied at times and so I tried to address the problem with an extra phone call to her.

"I'm too busy to talk to you right now."

Click.

I was angry. How dare she, I thought, say I'm not paying enough attention to her, and then when I call say she's too busy?

I sulked, a fine long sulk.

I even managed to keep my sulk going at a party that night .

On the way home I thought about things. And I realized that I might have been a touch oversensitive.

As I sat before my altar that night speaking to the Goddess I asked her to forgive my lack of understanding and patience.

She was silent as always, the carved stone of her face immobile, but then in the waver of the altar candles I saw the ghost of a smile flicker across her lips.

I extinguished the candles and laid down in bed just as the phone rang.

It was after Midnight my time, so I was a bit curious.

I answered it and found my Mistress in North Carolina on the phone.

"Mistress it's three in the morning out there.", I said in surprise.

"I couldn't sleep, so I thought I'd call. I'm sorry about this afternoon. I was having a very bad day when you called."

I almost laughed.

I laid there in the dark afterwards and considered the lession I had learned.

A Mistress is only human .

As are we all.


Dr. Forbin



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