Collarspace.com

Horizontal Line
Vertical Line
Horizontal Line

Horizontal Line

greedysow

Horizontal Line

Friends:
MoriExtremMistressmozzieblueMsLynn111KCShenzhen
Minaliamistressnidaspet

Horizontal Line

Vertical Line

Looking for women or couples, single men don't bother i won't reply...

that out the way...

i want an owner. Total power exchange. You keep me in a cage, whip me, collar me, leash me and walk me, i have no rights.

i like online play up to a point: i like fantasy exchange. i won't be giving you my photo immediately, don't ask on a first date as it were... but sooner or later, you ask me for mine, i'll ask you for yours.

i don't ever assume that here, profile photos are real. sometimes they're obviously not. if you ask me to send you a photo, even if you have a profile photo on display, please be prepared to send me yours, or no, you won't get mine.

What I've taken to doing as a little routine is offering to send the person I am talking to my phone number, so she can phone me and we can hear each other's voices. In that way, we can be genuinely satisfied that the other person is real, which photos sent over the Internet simply don't provide. I do this whenever someone asks me to send them a photo in the first contact.

It's distressing and disappointing how many people this weeds out right away... (and heh: talking to other sub friends, i find it's not just me they won't share phone contact with)

Horizontal Line

12/20/2012 10:53:46 AM

In my new home

 

My Owner lets me out of the car. I am wearing the clothes I wear to work. Working in the human world is very hard because every day my Owner trains me to be more and more piglike. It helps that I am not allowed to eat except as a pig. By the end of the day when my Owner collects me, I am very hungry. I want nothing more than to go home and be fed.

My Owner drives into the garage. I go round the back of the house. There is a point marked by a red stick where this pig is no longer visible to any of the neighbours. This pig stops there, and strips. All her human clothes come off, and she puts them into a net bag hung from the stick. She drops on to all fours on the muddy path and crawls. The path is marked with red stones, so piggy doesn't lose her way. Sometimes there is a piggy treat for this pig to pick up with her mouth from the ground, to reward piggy for crawling.
 My Owner likes to train by reward and punishment. When this pig is good, she doesn't et punished.

The pig crawls to the pen door. The pen door is locked. The pig must wait for Owner to pen it. The pig waits in the rain. Once early on when it was cold and wet pig got up and opened the door and let itself into the pen, and the pig was punished.

That was the first time pig spent 24 hours in the pigform. Every time pig acts human, in any way at all, pig spends an hour in the pigform. This is good training for the pig. If pig does something very bad, like speaking a human word or getting up on to hind legs, or using its foretrotters like human hands, pig spends 24 hours in the pigform.

Being bad as a pig, just means pig gets smacked or beaten. Pig is allowed to squeal. When Owner impales pig to be beaten, pig can even squirm and wriggle as well as cry. Owner likes to see pig squirm on impalement.

The pig waits in the rain, wanting to be in the pen, wanting to be able to wallow. Pig's belly is fat, pig's plump udders hang low. Pig wants to wallow, get muddy, play in the mud.

Pig is naughty: she trots away from the pen, just a little way, to where the grass is muddy and wet. She lies down on her belly in the mud, and squirms happily, rolling over and squidging her buttocks in the mud. She rolls over again and lets out a happy grunt. And then she sees Owner standing in the pen door.

She knows she's been bad and she trots over to where Owner is standing. Owner whacks her with the pigstick, and pushes her into the pen. Owner takes pig's hair and pulls her head up, pushing her jaw open and filling her mouth with a gag. Owner is cross. Pig was bad. Pig isn't allowed to wallow outside her pen unless Owner says so.

Owner leaves. Pig is naked and gagged in the pen.

The pen is a nice big outside run with lots of mud. Pig was trained to drop her crap in one corner and piss in another, so Owner can shovel up the pigshit easily. Then there's lots of nice clean dirt for wallowing, and a big trough for pig to feed at. Pig can spend hours in the pen happily being contented pig.

Owner whistles from inside. There is a hatch into the Inside Room, the only one Pig is allowed in, except sometimes when Owner wants to display Pig for parties. Pig sleeps there in cold weather, and is trained and punished there. Pig pushes through the hatch. Owner hoses her down with cold water. Pig squeals through her gag.

When she's clean, Owner snaps a collar on her and fits her hands with the foretrotter gloves and her hind legs with the ties and padding. She can  trot round on the Inside Floor now all the time without getting cramps. She always wears these Indoors, except when she's in the pigform.

The pigform is a wire cage. It can be adjusted in size as pig gets fatter. Owner told pig when she was still human that Owner meant to fatten pig. Pig remembers worrying about that, but it was a human thing to worry about. Pigs are for fattening, of course Owner will make sure of that.

When Owner fastens the pigform around her, pig is caged so that she is held in the position of a pig. The form has a fitted feeding gag that goes into pig's mouth and a plug that goes up her bottom. Pig can be filled with liquid food and also Owner can fill and empty her pig guts with enemas. Pig can't move in the pigform. Can't make noises. Can only be pig.

Owner isn't very cross with pig. Owner isn't going to use pigform tonight. Owner pushes pig over to the impalement. Pig is greased up deep inside and Owner positions pig over the impalement and pushed pig down on to it, so pig is held by fat rod inside her. Pig is stuffed and held.

Owner smacks pig with a cane. This is tenderising the meat, hard blows on pig's hams, on pig's udders. Pig squeals, squirms, jerks. The hard rod inside her excites her, the pain turns her on. Owner goes on until pig is crying and still, not able even to wriggle any more. Owner picks up the paddle and smacks pig's belly and sides, gentler blows, making the pig squirm and wriggle as the Owner's blows direct. Owner stops.

"Good pig," Owner says, petting the pig's wet hair. Owner tugs the pig off the impalement, and leads the pig over to the trough. The trough is full of food, but pig can't eat it, pig is gagged. The food smells so good.

Owner pushes pig to stand by the trough, snout almost in her food, but gagged and hungry and hurting. Owner tethers pig. Pig has to stand still.

Owner fills pig up. This is a thing that enters pig's backside and pumps pig full of warm liquid. Owner likes to fill pig. Pig isn't being punished any more. Owner plugs pig up. Then Owner takes out the gag.

Pig knows she must be meant to eat. She drops her face into the trough of swill and gobbles. She's punished if she doesn't gobble and gulp her swill, hungry and greedy, but she's so hungry it isn't hard. Pig can hear Owner doing something behind her, but she just keeps on eating, she isn't allowed to stop when she's been swilled, she must open her mouth and eat with big piggy grunts.

Owner unplugs her. Pig squeals. The warm liquid is flooding out of her, she can't stop it but she can't stop eating, she must keep gobbling up the swill, filling her belly even as warm liquid crap comes out of her other end.

Owner is laughing. Owner likes to play with pig. Owner leaves her there once she's finished eating, to let her gut finish emptying. She's feeling full and drained at the same time. When Owner comes back, Owner moves the thing behind her away, and hoses her down again.

Owner leashes her and walks her over to the cage. Pig sleeps in the cage. It's warm. Pig is lucky to have such a kind Owner.

Later, Owner takes her out of the cage and swills her again. Pig's stomach is empty and pig gobbles her food. Owner plays with her a little, throwing balls for her to fetch. Owner doesn't plug her until she goes back into the cage. Tomorrow pig will have to be human again, but tonight pig is happy.

 


4/29/2012 2:26:01 PM

We'd discussed it all beforehand. There were clear safewords set up, and a signal I could make even when hobbled and gagged.

They knew I wanted to become a pig.

The fantasy I have is something I have had for a long time. Wanting to be taken away from being human, to be just an animal kept in a cage or a pen. Not by my own choice, done to me even though I squeal and protest and struggle. Trapped by my own needs.

This was something they wanted to do to a girl - kidnap her, strip her, dehumanise her. On the first visit, the one when I kept my clothes on and talked to them like a human, and ate at their table, and their slave waited on me as she would on any guest, they showed me their "dungeon" - the cellar space they had fitted up with a couple of bunks for their slave and any visiting slave, a toilet and a shower - neither one with any privacy - the whipping bench, the stocks ... and the cage.

While I was there, we all drove to the nearest town and they bought a pen - a big wading pool that they could set up in the dungeon - and a couple of feeding bowls: they placed an order for some equipment via a medical supplies site, that they discussed with me but not their slave, and - excluding me from the room - they placed an order with a sex toys site for the dildos and plugs and gags that would be used on me.

I knew when I came back I would enter the house as a pig, completely available to any human.

Their slave was quite pretty and very docile: when her owners left her with me one afternoon, giving me permission to use her and question her and her permission to answer my questions, she told me quite a lot about her training. She'd sold herself to them deliberately, looking for ownership and discipline. She spent a long time in the cage, which she regarded as a real punishment, even worse than the stocks, but her owners had trained her systemically, wanting a useful slave for the household: she was rewarded for good behaviour, sharply caned for mistakes, and her owners always made clear when she was being disciplined for her manners or being hurt because they wanted to see her in pain. They were both quite sadistic, she told me, but because she wasn't masochistic, they found sex with her rather boring: she was often used casually, which she enjoyed, and sometimes given permission to make herself come as a special treat. I had her strip and played with her while she told me the various ways she had been punished. She licked me well and made me come.

I watched later than evening as she was bent over a chair and given a couple of strokes of the cane for carelessness in preparing dinner for us. Her pretty bottom looked even sweeter with two red lines across it. They were brisk and strict, I was pleased to see. They would be good owners.

Next time the slave saw me I wouldn't be human. She could play with me. I didn't know if she knew that. I hadn't been allowed to tell her.

A few weeks later it happened. I was walking home. The van stopped at the lights on a deserted street. I had time to see that the driver was the man who would own me, when the van doors opened and four people jumped out and grabbed me and pulled me into the van. The van drove off.

The woman was sitting in the back of the van. She looked at me and said, to the people holding me, "yes, she'll do" or something like that.

They got a gag in my mouth right away, and cuffed me. Then they cut the clothes off me. They emptied my pockets and the woman put everything into a black plastic rubbish bag, the cut-about clothes and everything from my pockets. She tied it up and the next time the van stopped, she got out, with the bag, telling the strangers I was to be delivered "to the usual address".

I was on my belly on the van floor, gagged, with my hands cuffed behind my back. I couldn't see them. They fastened me down on my belly with my legs spread wide and uncuffed my hands to fasten them down.

"What's this one?" one of them asked.

"Oh, she's going to be a pig," someone else said offhandedly.

One of them squeezed my fat bottom. Another one bent and gave one of my tits a prod. "She's got nice udders on her. Could bring her into milk, easy."

"I like a good dairy cow," one of them said. "Remember that fat girl we took last March? She's in milk at the Farm. Human pigs are pretty useless. They're just big fat lumps."

They all laughed. They started talking about human animals, all their preferences, none of them liked pigs. The only woman - I thought she was a woman - said she liked horses, fit active stallions, or a pretty puppy bitch that you could show. They went on talking about other things as the van drove on. I got cold and shivered, but they didn't take any notice.  When the van stopped and they got out I hoped we had got there.

They all got back into the van and I smelt food. They'd had a comfort break. The van drove on. When it stopped a few minutes later, they uncuffed me and dropped a choke-collar round my throat and led me on all fours out of the van. I was naked and scared - it was dark outside - but I heard the man's voice saying impatiently, "just take her over to the verge, we need to get on" - and I realised they meant for me to go at the side of the road. It was a deserted country road, I didn't want to leave the van. But I did need to use a toilet.

They hauled me out bodily and over to the green verge and made me squat. I got stung by a nettle and squealed through the gag and they laughed.  They just stood there holding me, I couldn't get up, and I realised that if I didn't piss I would be put back in the van with a full bladder and if I pissed in the van I would be punished. So I pissed myself, and then they held me there a little longer and I realised I was going to crap. I grunted and squatted down a bit more widely and they laughed, and made disgusted noises about how the pig smelled. One of them cleaned me up with a ball of newspaper and then some water from a bottle.

They let me back in the van and I scrambled back in eagerly, it almost felt warm after the outside, and smelled of food. I lay down expecting them to chain me up again, hoping we'd soon get somewhere to be fed, but the van doors closed and the van moved off, and they were all eating and hadn't chained me up. I was gagged and drooling and hungry and I didn't know what to do, I didn't want to take the gag off and be a bad pig already but I was hungry, my belly was rumbling. I tried to beg for food but they laughed at me and prodded me away. They wiped their hands clean on my flesh and hair.  They talked about giving me a meal of their leftovers, making me clean up the scraps, and I started crying when I realised how much I wanted that, to have the gag in my mouth taken out so that I could gobble their food from the dirty van floor.

I just lay down on my belly, and rocked back and forth, and cried, wanting to be fed. When they cuffed me again and shackled my ankles and shoved me into a bag, I hoped when they opened the bag I would be in the owner's home.

And I was.

(end of part 1)


2/10/2012 12:07:03 PM

The Owner wanted to try out having a pig but didn't have good pig space at home.

The Owner picked up this pig in her car. Once we were well on our way to the spa hotel she had booked, she stopped the car at a deserted layby, and handed me a plastic carrier bag.

"You're to get down on the ground beside the car and change into what's in this bag."

I realised I was going to have to change very fast or risk being seen! the bag had a pink tracksuit in it, and pink panties in my size, and pink trainers. the tracksuit was quite tight on me, all my bulges showed. it was especially obvious that pig wasn't wearing a bra, pig's big fat udders were very wobbly and obvious.

"That's what you're going to wear, for the next 24 hours," she told me. "Or anything else I let you have. Or nothing at all."

"Thank you," I said happily.

She shook her head at me. "Pigs don't talk, remember? We agreed. Behave and I won't have to gag you."

She stopped on the way up at a cafe and went in by herself, leaving me in the passenger seat of the car. When she came out she had a bag in her hand. "Get into the back seat, pig."

She had spread a coversheet like you'd use for a dog over the back seat. When I got in, she pushed me until I was on all fours, slapping and poking me. There was a pastry in the bag. She broke it into pieces and put it on the coversheet in front of me. She was getting back into the driver's seat and I realised if I didn't eat it quick it would roll off the seat on to the floor. I gobbled up the treat hastily, and licked the sheet, and grunted to tell her I was a happy pig. Then I curled up on the coversheet and rested as my Owner drove us the rest of the way.

She had a lot of luggage for an overnight, and of course I had to carry all of it into the hotel. As instructed, I had only one small bag, that had just essentials in it - and she'd said that shouldn't include any clothing or toiletries. I was really aware of how the pink tracksuit kept riding up, exposing my plump body. No one else seemed to pay attention except for the man at the reception desk, who knew my Owner. He chatted to her in a friendly way as he checked us both in for the night, reminding her of all the hotel facilities. He eyed me, adding in a quiet voice "Quite a fat girl, isn't she?"

"Oh yes," my Owner said, just as quietly. "Between you and me, she's a real pig."

The luggage just barely fitted in the small lift, with both of us. The hotel room was nice a large, with room for comfortable chairs and a small coffee table and a big bed. I didn't expect to be sleeping in the bed, and I was right!

My Owner took me into the bathroom right away, and told me to go down on all fours on the bathroom floor. I obeyed of course, a bit puzzled why she hadn't ordered me to strip. She pulled down the pink bottoms and the panties, and left me there like that for a little while. When the bathroom door opened, I hadn't moved, though I was beginning to think about how hard the tiles were on my hands and knees. Not properly in pigspace. Hard to go there still dressed and not collared.

She had prepared an enema for me. She didn't warn me in advance or do anything but slip the greased nozzle in and begin filling me. Pig began to be me. Piggy me. On all fours without even being spoken to, Owner treating me like an animal, rubbing me soothingly when pig whined. Then she slipped in a buttplug. Pig squirmed happily, pig belly all wobbly and full. Owner pulled up pig panties and tracksuit bottoms.

"You can get up on your hind legs now, pig." She slipped in a gag and fastened it. She knows I love being gagged. Pig felt very confused, dressed in human clothing and walking around on hind legs, gagged. Gagging takes me into pigspace and pig is naked on all fours.

She expected me to pay attention to what she was saying in human speech, expected me to lay out the coversheet and bowls for pig's food and water by the table, expected me to work like a human slave, all the while pig so much wanting to be only pig. She put the collar on and fastened the leash and let pig drop down to all fours and trot to the bathroom. She stripped pig off and pushed pig into the tub and pulled out piggy buttplug and pig let go.

Human Owner hosed pig down with nice warm water and let pig stay in the tub. She took out gag after a while and fed pig porridge mixed with scraps poured into the head end of the tub. Then she hosed down pig again and when pig was clean she let pig out of the tub and had pig crawl to the floor by the bed and roll on to back. Owner prodded pig's belly and said things about pig being fat, but she ignored pig for a while, moving around, doing human things.

When she called pig by human name I responded. Stopping being pig is like waking up slowly.

She told me to stand up and handed me a pink swimming-cossie, also almost too tight. She made me put on the pink tracksuit and trainers.

"We're going down to the spa now. This is a good time of day, it's almost empty. I hope my pig can swim?"

I nodded and grunted. The collar would almost pass for a necklace if no one looked too closely, I was glad she wouldn't have to take it off.

Owner spent time in the hot tub but she wouldn't let pig in there. Pig had to either swim in the pool or steam / bake in the sauna. We were the only two there, and especially in the sauna, Owner told me I was just like a pig, so fat and pink and sweaty. She had me spend time on the floor on all fours, because that was a good position for a pig.

There was a little playpen meant for small children by the wall. Owner pointed it out to me and told me to get in and go on all fours to see if I would fit. I did, just. It wasn't like a cage but it was nice to be penned.

Owner ordered dinner from room service. She stripped pig off and had pig wait in the tub in the bathroom with the butt plug back in. It felt good going in, pig wriggled and squirmed, going back into pigspace.

Owner got pig out of the tub. A tray that smelled delicious was on the table. Owner filled one bowl with water and Pig waited by the table, drinking the water in greedy gulps, smelling the food, making greedy hoggy grunts. Owner smiled at pig. Owner looked happy to see pig so greedy. When Owner was done, she scraped her leftovers into the food bowl, and mixed up some swill with porridge and teabags and a banana peel. Pig ate swill greedily, big noisy gobble and grunts. Owner had to use tub to hose pig down again.

Then Owner put in the pig-tail buttplug and fastened it on with a pink harness and let pig wander around the room. Owner was watching something on TV and fed pig treats. Pig was tethered to the foot of the bed for the night.

Very early in the morning Owner woke Pig up and made Pig put on pink tracksuit. Pig was confused and whined and grunted. Owner had to slap pig. Pig was on leash, through the dark deserted hotel.

The man who had said pig was a fat girl was waiting outside the spa. He smiled at pig as he let Owner in.

Owner stripped off pig's human clothes and had pig hosed down. Then let pig wallow. Pig played happily in the water and spent time in the steam room and the hot dry room on all fours, happy pig. Owner put pig in pen.

The other human brought Owner coffee. They both drank coffee and watched the pig in her pen. The other human leaned over the pen and prodded the pig's back and hams, saying nice things about what a fat pig. Hard to get fat pig's clothes on again, bad pig wanted to stay in pen. The other human held the pig down and Owner dressed her and led her back to the room.

Woke up later, the room was daylight. Wondered if it had happened or had been a dream, getting to play like a pig in the spa. Owner was fully dressed, waiting for room service. Pig was tethered naked to the foot of the bed.

The door opened. Not the regular room service. The man had brought a tray with a human breakfast and a bowl of steaming porridge, like pigswill.

"You promised I could watch the pig eat," he said.

Not quite in pigspace, was conscious of being naked with a strange man in the room, but oddly relaxed. Collared and tethered. Even if the night in the pool was a dream, the man knew I was a pig, so it didn't matter if he saw me naked. When Owner put the big bowl down on the coversheet, pig grunted and wriggled, squirming, begging for food, as Owner ate her breakfast and scraped the leftovers into the swill bowl.

"I'm going to tenderise the meat now," Owner said. She picked up her cane and unclipped the restraint. "Don't stop eating, pig."

The man watched as I trotted forward and put my face into the bowl. Owner slipped in the piggytail buttplug and I squirmed and gobbled, squealing each time the cane hit my bottom and hams, gulping down the fine swill, loving filling my belly as a pig...

written with permission


2/8/2012 6:51:07 PM

Going away for a few days. May have news when I get back.


1/31/2012 3:56:53 PM

Eating dinner with a friend. Nice place, she's been there before, I haven't.

She knows what I like. Over dinner she teases me ... says I'm being piggy with my food, asks me if I would like to just stick my face in the bowl and gobble it down (and I would, it's delicious).

I play with the idea, tell her I'm thinking about it, being caged in the kitchen, eating their scraps. She laughs, she thinks it's a joke. Then she realises I'm squirming a little, getting excited, and her face lights up: she loves to tease.

We play with each other over the table. She points as each bowl of scraps is collected by the servers, tells me that this will be good for the trough. One girl at the next table is picking out all of the hot peppers, and I say it will be well-seasoned. We talk almost seriously about how this would work, the kitchen pig eating the scraps.

We decide that as each server enters the kitchen, they pick up the cleaned tray and put down the tray of food scraps they're carrying, and the pig has to eat the tray clean of food, lick it, before it goes to get washed. The pig is in a pen, impaled on a big plug that holds her and stops her dirtying the sty. She's tethered by her forelegs and hindlegs so she can't move, can't use her hands. She has to gobble up the food quickly, if the tray isn't clean when the next server comes in, she gets whacked, with a long paddle kept by the pen for the purpose.

Then at the  end of the evening when all the food is cleared away and before the kitchen staff go home, they put the pig in her cage, with a drinking bottle attached so she can have water. She's left all alone to sleep and squirm and dream of being fattened. And get hungry again for tomorrow night, when it all begins again....

My friend teases me with talk of how full I would get, how hungry between times, how fat I would become...

I love her teasing me. But I really want to be in the pen.....

 


1/30/2012 4:10:05 PM

So excited, can't sleep.


1/29/2012 9:42:39 AM

Moving into a new house is always an uncertain time.

Especially when you do so as a pig.

You kneel down as you were instructed in the hall. You are wearing clothes you will never see again.

There are three humans in the household: Master, Mistress, slavegirl. The slavegirl cuts the clothes from your body. She looks disgusted and frightened. Master and Mistress decided to acquire pig for a month without consulting her. She is their slave. She takes care not to cut your skin, scratch you or harm you, but she clearly doesn't like you.

She sleeps in their bedroom, at the foot of their bed. When she's punished, she's sent to sleep in the kitchen. You live in a cage in the utility room. Except when Master or Mistress want to play with their pig, it's her job to see you are fed and to keep you under discipline. She has permission to use a paddle on your meaty piggy ass every time you speak. She's told not to stop until you squeal.

You're naked. You're hobbled so you can't rise but must crawl on all fours. Your ass is plugged at all times, except when it's removed so that the slavegirl can clean you out. For a treat, you're sometimes allowed to go in the garden, and then slavegirl has to clean up after you.

Slavegirl feeds you. She cooks delicious meals and serves them, and eats her Master and Mistress's leftovers. You get the scraps, mixed into a big bowl of porridge. You eat coffee grounds and teabags and crumbled eggshelll and bits of raw vegetable: the only edible leavings slavegirl isn't allowed to put into your mash are things that might actually harm you. You have to eat all of the mash, eagerly, or slavegirl can paddle you until you've finished it.

She obeys this order eagerly. You find that although you are not gagged, any sound that even resembles human speech causes her to reach for the paddle, push you into place, and go at your ass hard. She loves this. She is herself very pretty, and likes to comment on how fat you are, how your lard ass jiggles. She isn't allowed to use you for sex, but she often says how she would loathe that, how fat pigs belong where you are, down on the floor, in the cage. She loves to paddle you if you show any hint of disgust at your food - you learn to gobble eagerly, to make big piggy grunts as you eat. She laughs at you then, too, teases you about being a greedy pig, but she doesn't paddle you.

She takes out your plug in the utility room and she gives you big enemas. You have to hold them for a count of ten strokes of the paddle. She's disgusted by you then, especially if you spill early. She reports this to Master and Mistress, and they tell her to leave you fastened up in the utility room, and give you your next meal by feeding-gag. She does this, with a mean smile on her face, enjoying that you have no control over the liquid food she pours into your gut. You learn to be better at holding the enema.

You adore your Master and Mistress. They're always kind to you. They love to take you out when they have time, and play with you. Sometimes they even let you orgasm, if you've been a good pig. When they punish you, they spank or cane you, and they love how fat you're getting, they praise you for your big wobbly belly and plump hams. They roll you on your back and pet and slap you gently, discussing how fat their pig is getting. They praise slavegirl for fattening you. She likes to be praised and afterwards sometimes she gives you a treat, handfeeding you a little bit of her food, the human scraps she eats from Master and Mistress's meals.

You love her. She sometimes seems to like you. You're content as a pig in your cage.


10/8/2009 4:15:25 AM
I phone... expect to hear Her voice... phone is cut off without a reply.

Then we talk on "chat" for  a while and Her  says I sounded "insincere" - I apologise and admit to being nervous, but say I'd like to try again.

She won't call me back. She acts offended when I point out that this is what guys faking it do: anything but talk on the phone.

Now is She really so nervous and so inexperienced that she has no idea guys routinely fake being female to get to do online scenes to jerk off to - or is She really... just another guy?

I'd be disappointed if that was the case. But the longer she leaves it without calling me back, the more i'm convinced... it was just another guy.

:-(


---
I got a follow-up phonecall which consisted of more of the same - let me speak, no response. That convinced me "she's" a fake.

10/8/2009 3:24:08 AM

"You understand you will be a pig," she told me. "You already are. But in my home, that's all you will be."

"I want to be a pig"

---

"Take off your clothes" she said to me. She spoke quite briskly. "you can stay on your hind legs for now, but you won't ever wear clothes in my house"

i stripped off. she looked me over, made me turn round and bend, prodded and slapped me.

"Come," she said, turning away.

Following her naked through the house, i had to stop after a few minutes. made a noise. she turned round as i grunted and looked me over again and smiled.

"You will have to stay on your hind feet for now, pig"

She showed me round the house as if i were a human guest. She put my luggage away and showed me where it was. she showed me the bathroom and the guest room "if things don't work out as we want, you can sleep here - you remember your safe word?"

"yes"

"say it so we both know"

I said it.

"if you ever say it again we stop. if you don't say it, we continue"

We went downstairs and through the kitchen. There was a small bare stone-walled room. There was a pile of straw and newspapers in one corner, and the floor sloped towards a drain in the other corner. There was a tap with a hose attached.

My owner smiled at me as she held the door open.

"Down on all fours, pig"

I had wanted this but all the same at the sight of it I squealed and turned, but she caught my arms. "oh good" she said, and held me down, and then i felt a sharp crack across my bottom

"no," i begged out loud, "no, i can't, i'm not really a pig, i'm scared - please don't do this to me - "

every time she used the crop i squealed, and when i could not stop squealing - when i had no words at all - she shoved me towards the open door and i went in to my new home on all fours.

it was quite warm. she pushed me down into the pile of straw on my belly. "bad pigs get beaten," she said. "good pigs get swill"

"I'll be a good pig!"

the crop hit across my hams hard three times and i squealed three times and she slapped me.

"pigs don't talk"

I lay still in the straw and felt her hands on me, fondling and pinching. i grunted. she petted me. "good pig"

"now is my pig hungry for swill?"

i grunted.

"greedy pig," she said fondly. "i'm going to fill your belly with hot swill whether you're hungry or not, good pig"

i thought i could be a happy pig...


8/11/2009 3:18:16 PM
This slave wants someone to Own me who wants me as a pig.

Not as a human being: just as a pig.

Livestock. Animal. A pet. A toy pig to be played with, smacked around, made to squeal. A pig kept in a cage or a pen, not allowed human speech, fattened on your scraps and leftovers made into swill.

This slave wants Owners who understand that in order for this slave to take the step of becoming a pig, complete trust is necessary, and that requires preparation: it is not something that will happen instantly.

This slave wants to meet Owners first: to talk with them: to be certain they are looking for a slave they want to dehumanise, that they are as excited by owning a pig as this slave is by becoming one.

This slave is not interested in Owners who do not respect that.


4/19/2009 2:44:58 PM
Well, so... greedy pig girl still looking.

(Got disappointed a time or two: please be ready to talk to me on the phone, soon, no disrespect just a check...)

3/27/2009 8:09:46 PM
Caught - first

(note: Mistress Cayla wrote these instructions to me, in the form of a conversation: i recast them into the form of an e-mail to make clear i had paid attention)

pig,

I don't like a slave that comes with limits. I will accept you only as a dehumanised slave - this is permanent, it will never be anything else. You will be an animal from day one, no games, you will never be anything else.

All body hair including on your head will be removed so you can be washed. My pig will have a steel collar chained to a ring in the wall. This is what will happen, so you will have to be very serious as there is no goinbg back from this once the collar is on.

I will keep my pig in a cage at night and a pen during the day. My pig will eat off the floor or from a bowl. What body weight are you? I only see you as an animal to fatten up, a pig. You will never be allowed to talk unless it's to beg: an animal, always a sow, a pig to crawl and sleep in a cage.

From now on, you only stand up to get things; you crawl everywhere. No clothes. Throw all the plates away in the kitchen and only have a bowl in the corner for eating, you don't eat at a table any more, a pig eats on the floor always.

No clothes at home. All underwear is to be disposed of. You won't need it here or there ever again.

You won't use the furniture. You won't sleep on the bed.

Go now, pig, and start living as I specified.

Your owner.



3/8/2009 8:23:34 AM
"It will be the last decision  you ever make"

-Part 1-

The contract: I had a copy of it tucked in my pocket, to keep my hand on it, to remind me why I was here, at a local airport in Ohio, without luggage or a return ticket.

I had visited Ms Keke  before, of course: once for the initial interview, in a local restaurant, where we talked pleasantly about her home and current pets, and my need to be one of them; and the second time, where I had been medically examined and blood drawn for testing, to confirm my good health. It was then that I had signed the contract.

---
I, [my name], agree that while born in human form I am and always have been a pig.

I, [my name], agree by signing this contract that I will deliver myself to [airport] on [date], to be collected by Ms Keke or her employee, and delivered to her home. From the time I deliver myself into her care, I renounce all privileges which my apparent human form have given me: from that moment forward, I will be owned and used by her as she would own and use any animal.  I will be her pig in fact, as I have always been an ownerless pig in reality.
---

I was wearing old jeans and a t-shirt and sweat-shirt and trainers: no bra, no panties, no socks. I was carrying a small purse. I had given up all my old life. Soon, I would be human no longer.

Ms Keke was a familiar and welcome sight. She did not, of course, offer to shake my hand: I followed her out to her car. Someone else was driving: I knew the face but not the name.

With a gesture, she shooed me into to lie on the floor at her feet. She took my purse away. I did not see what she did with it. After a moment, her feet rested on my back, and I felt their weight as a comfort. I was there. It felt strange and yet somehow comforting and familiar to be transported like this.

When the car stopped, Ms Keke got out of the car, and I lay there, wondering if I should move. I knew I was already her pig, and pigs don't wear clothing.

She did not speak to me: my first clue about what she would do was the feel of the knife against the back of my legs. I squealed. She slapped me impatiently, and pinned my leg down, and went on cutting through the fabric of my jeans.

Once she had my jeans in shredded rags, she cut my sweatshirt in two, and sliced off my t-shirt. I lay naked in the rags of the clothes I had worn.

I felt a collar clip round my throat, and the tug of a leash. In a former life, I had been taught to respond to leash cues, and I crawled backwards out of the car, onto the driveway.

It was hot enough to hurt my skin, and hard, and rough. Ms Keke took hold of my head and opened my mouth for a ballgag. She buckled it on.

"I'll take the new pig to the sty. We'll have dinner at seven."

We were off the driveway and on to a dirt path in a few yards. I crawled at her side, feeling more comfortable and relaxed than I had in years.

There was a barn round the side of the house, and a pig pen half in and half out of the barn. Ms Keke opened the gate and walked me into the pen. Two other pigs saw her and crawled over, making happy grunting noises: Ms Keke slapped them away, affectionately enough.

There was a set of rings in the middle of the pen. I was led there and fastened to them: my hind legs and fore legs separately, so that I was chained on all fours, with my hind legs splayed apart, and my collar fastened to an overhead beam. I could lower myself to huddle, still on all fours, with my belly and face to the ground, but I could not get up or roll on to my side.

Ms Keke handled me: feeling and prodding at my hams and belly and udders, slapping me and clicking her tongue. "Not enough flesh on you, little pig," she said, as one would talk to an animal. "We'll have you fine and fat, a proper show pig."

She left me, and I heard her patting and talking to the other two pigs, praising their plumpness and feeding them treats from her hand. They were not gagged. 

I heard the gate open and shut again behind her. I was alone in the pen with two other pigs who had already made the same journey I was beginning: to become a true pig for my Owner.

-tbc-

Vertical Line

Horizontal Line
Horizontal Line
cutebiflslave4u
 
 Age: 46
 Edinburgh, United Kingdom