Mishakyle

I am the Master; she is the slave,

I will master her, she will submit.
She will resist my will,
I will allow her for a short while,
But only if it pleases me to do so.
In the end, she will become what I desire,
She will test me, I will judge her,
She will drop to her knees, and beg my mercy.
It is my decision to grant it or not.
She is just a slave, my property,
Mine to do with as I please.
I will accept nothing less than total obedience.

I am male, she is female.
She will learn what it is to be a woman,
She will learn it at my feet.

She may beg, she may cajole,
She may plead her case.
I will listen.

Others may interfere; I will not allow this.
It is my collar that she wears.
I am her Master first and foremost,
She has no choice but to accept this
for I am her owner,
her protector,
her teacher,
her comfort,
Her tormentor if she incurs my wrath.
I am a fair, and patient Master,
but I brook no disobedience from that which I own,
I walk, she crawls on her belly, begging to please me,
this is her station in life, she accepts this willingly,
As she begged me to make her mine.
I have done so, it is a heavy burden to bear,
But one that has many pleasures both for me and for my girl.
I take my pleasure at my will; she has her pleasures at my discretion.

Let this serve as a warning,
I protect with fury that which I own,
She is mine, not anyone else's.
I take care of her needs,
She needs what it is I decide she needs.
Nothing more, nothing less.

I am the Master, she is the slave,
she exists at my pleasure, she knows this,
And accepts it wholeheartedly for she has begged my collar.
I placed it upon her neck, and locked it with my key. She is my girl.
I will teach my girl, what she needs to know,
She will learn it well, at my feet, or at my whipping post,
She may protest, she may cry and she may beg for me to stop.
I stop at my will, and not hers.

She
Is my slave, my girl.

I
Am her Master, her Owner.

What most Gorean men keep in reverence he laughs at, but calling him

honorless wouldn't always be right. It is just his views on honor and

others are most likely different. A man who could be considered dark of

heart he seemingly has no worries. He deals easily with the things that

may threaten to bring him harm or death and goes on living his life. He

walks the land seemingly void of any emotion, refusing to let loose any

sign of it even in his eye, only having one. The other was lost in a fight.

His voice always a whisper due to an arrow in the throat from the same

fight. His attire is always black, along with the steel of his kriss bladed

weapons. His face almost always hidden in a cowl, his features are rarely

seen. He is a greedy, self-centered man, oft seen with his slave Dancer,

his adopted nephew Tanel, and niece Shadow, or should it be the nephew

and niece that adopted him. They are all he seems to have some sort of

care about. But what comes first, of course, is the Caste of Black. He is

insanely loyal to The Black Caste and will be so until his death.