listening?  

OK, a slave, you, are in many ways very much like a child

you are growing

you need something

usually, that is attention

you learn that you get attention, undivided attention,

it makes you feel alive

happy

that you have a place you belong'

that is safe

even negative attention, like harsh abuse, counts a lot for this need

the most attention you get, no matter what kind, the more you will love those that give it to you

As a child, you learn about the power

your owners have that power

and it makes you feel safe and alive as well

when they use it on you, you feel the attention

and it makes you happy inside

when your owners spend time training you, putting you in bondage, even torturing you, you’re getting the attention the child in you is desperate to have

and you crave it

and want it

and need

and love it

and you then love your owners

for only they give you that attention

Your body, your mind, your emotions

they all need attention

as a girl, you need just to be touched

and the more stronger the touch, the more extreme the touch, the more you crave that touch

in being trained, the need to please your owners always makes you happy when after long hours of bondage and control, they smile

and you know you made them happy

and that makes you happy

All that  slave girl , in is you

its in you as deep as the ocean

and you need to experience it

or you will die unhappy and depressed

See, I am a writer...  sometimes, I write too much 

but when you are bound and hooded and helpless, you will be taught the same way I write

clear, frank, in detail

and you will learn'

and when you are slow, punished until you catch up

you are not stupid  slave girl ... its that no one has taken the time to teach you this before

Stupid means you CAN NOT learn... ignorant means that others have not taken the time to train you, and its not your fault

Understand?

an intelligent young woman, afloat in a sea of wreckage...

looking for the compliment to her optimistic self-truth.

Ever notice, at least in school, that all though history of human development, most of it was face to face, next door to next door, hut to hut, tree to tree, cave to cave, tent to tent, fire to fire...

people developed and grew being, well, people.  And most everyone knew everyone else, really knew them.  It was hard to be or say something out of the ordinary that did not cause all the neighbors to notice, or cast you out into the lions and tigers or even pick up stones and start tossing them your way.

That was the development of what is loosely termed society, neighborhoods, classes.  And we talked, used real voices, words, body language, little gifts of work to show meaning and feelings, our focus and our truths.

Those truths became laws, acceptable boundaries, positions to obtain, often with known or given considerations that were valuable ... understanding, recognizing another's worth, their value to the group, their needs to be understood, their needs for affection, their needs for feeling accepted.

Eventually, there came the sailing ship and the long distance post, the telegraph and telephone, satellite communications and most recently computers with keyboards and mice and screens, and with each step, the human part of the communications was removed, the value system diminished, the value and judgment of another reduced from those others around us we already trust down to the typed word there on that screen with no background, no knowledge, no recommendation, no answer to you needs.

In the long ago days with education and development of science, we still needed.  As a species, we need security most of all, a feeling, an emotion that we have a place, have a purpose, have something to do, something to hope for, something to be emotional about.  Most things early on were not understood, and thus to explain uncertainty we developed mythology, religion, fears... in essence, we made explanations up as we went along, and only rarely stopped to correct them as we understood the world and ourselves better.

As in that now over used expression of the perfect storm, the human need to be wanted, to be used, to be of service, and the anonymous communication allowed by electronic communications bring us full circle to a crude beginning of a different form of inter-personal communication where once more we feel it perfectly acceptable to make things up as we go along because there is no one else who is watching, judging, being the single point of knowledge and authority that calls out the lair, the faker, the poser, the empty emotional soul that types this word or pastes that picture.

Still, as individuals, most of us still need, and need even more intensely now that there are so many more beaconing flags of possibilities unconstrained within this case the internet, and with so most more allowed in the form of misleading communications and understanding.

Our truths are being stretched and broken by the liar, our trusts in others ravaged by scammers, our needs given to empty charms of the sirens song in a storm of blackened humor that the internet allows to run rampant.

thus, you are here, like we are, and for that matter, so many others that remain optimistic, that someplace in the electronic space, as we thumb along the internet highway, we will indeed be found by someone with a heart and soul that is not that of a predator or a personality so petite, but someone with the will to be who they really are, who they have always been, and will always be with you.

Someone that will answer your needs.

slave girl...

We understand.

You want to be just a thing, an , used and trained to others demands and not given any need for choice, freedom or decisions... just a thing owned, kept, locked away, caged, tied, chained, whipped, trained to serve in the place you must live in...  the lowest of the low, with the dogs, on the floor, in the cellar chained to the post.

Master Steven and I are a dominant couple... we have done this before with a young woman with the true heart and needs of a slave, one who wants only to please and serve and have no other life.

You serve, are used, controlled, beaten, trained in all chores, and always chained or caged when not in use.  You are what you mind says you are... a thing, and the ONLY purpose for a thing is the use and pleasure of its owners.

A lifetime of slavery being owned without any option out.

slave girl...

Always the slave girl

there to always please

to always serve

to always give

to always sacrifice

to always be controlled

to always be lower

to always be inferior

to always need her work

to always need her abuse

to always need her pain

such is the need to crawl

to beg

to worship

to obey

for she is nothing unless she is owned.

We are looking for a full service slave, that includes strict domestic control and service as well as the well known and needed erotic tortures of bdsm...

Here is a very brief description of expectations for you...

At the most important levels

You would need to being trained in the simple and the more intricate things we needs a slave for as an inferior thing in the household.

Good house cleaning chores, what they are, how your work is inspected, what we expect, how you know when you have completed, following a schedule

How to take care of the dog pack, what they need, what to look for, how to handle their individual personalities, what they like to play with, how to bathe them, feed them, check on their water, monitoring their vet schedule and anti-flea meds, etc.

Helping with garden work, learning what kind of plants are what, working with sand and dirt and mud and mulch and top soil, color combinations, shade and sun loving plants, grass and hedge trimming, tool cleaning and storage, sharpening, paver stone laying, fish feeding and care, keeping the pond water levels up

Keeping the dungeon clean, the floors vac'd, things put away in the right places, the furniture washed and dusted off, everything in its place for me to come home to when its time for your dungeon training

learning to accept long periods in the hood, tied to the cross, chained to the post, spread on the exam table, knowing that you will be used by me for hours, perhaps into long weekends without a meaningful break, accepting, counting, and showing your marks and knowing how far I took you to get them

And that is just a few of the general things

Details come with the learning and the time to experience it

such as learning about what to do on one of our road trips, how to help with the trip, packing the car and luggage, keeping things string in the rooms we stay at, carrying a pack with tools, water, food, and rock samples when we are in the field

learning what to look for, how to dig out fossils, and care for them

take pictures, control still and video shots, hiking to places to see what is there to be seen, and recording it

and bring the rocks and fossils back to the house, and arranging them in the garden, in the display room, or on the back deck for more examination

 There is a lot to learn

 and a lot to do

The Erotic Humiliation

A slave girl must have a master, an owner, to complete her life.

He is power.  The power to control her beyond all she ever imagined.

She has surrendered, all power and choice over her life is his along, she must perform, she must obey, she must please, she must endure.

Her cage is her home, her place of safety, where she can curl up on the pillow and look out of the bars at her owners activities.  She knows the feeling of kneeling in front of it, opening the cage door with her mouth and crawling in, nestling into the central pillow as the door is closed and locked behind her.  Noting in her world makes her more humble than to be caged by her owners and kept locked on display.

She is cut off from the world she knew forever.  Gone are contacts with family, friends, places she went to school or worked.   In her cage, she is alive in a life so different from then, and for her, so acceptable.  Any life without knowing and feeling the humiliation of her subjected place in life as an inferior, as property, as an object, is now only a brief distant memory, gone in an instant and replaced with her need to serve.

When taken out of her cage, she prepared for her day of serving intensely as demanded.

She is kept naked, or dressed in rags, never again any finery and well matched outfits.

She lives most of her life kneeling, bent over, tirelessly scrubbing the wooden floors, vacuuming the dust and dust from the carpets so they shine and sparkle, so she can eat off them, so she can sleep on them.

At the door, she cleans the shoes that enter, and worships the feet that wore them.  With her tongue and lips, she removes the packed dirt, the clipped weeds, the unknown odors from the bottom of boots and shoes, from between the cleats, from the long edge where the upper meets the sole.  She drys and polishes them with her hair and sets them beside her, to wait inspection.

She washes the bathroom just as often and with great attention to detail.  Kneeling, hands often chained behind her, a sponge in her mouth and a bucket of water, she scrubs and cleans every spot, every stain, every curled hair, from the floor, the wall, the toilet bowl, the tub, the shower, the sink, the counter, the mirror, and carefully looks for any thing missed, any minute particle that would cause her inspection to fail.

She knows her owners are watching the whole time, prepared to correct her, abuse her, direct her until she does get it correct in every detail.

She is far from done, for she is leashed and dragged along on her knees to the kitchen, to repeat the cleaning process yet again, the floor, the appliances, the wall, the door, the cabinets, the pantry, the trash cans.  The floors are scrubbed with her mouth holding the sponge, and dried with her hair.  She knows well from her first stern correction, that the sponge will never pick up everything, every bit of dirt, every crumb of food, every dried stain of sauce or juice.  This she must clean solely with her mouth, lips, and tongue, picking up all the offending materials and quickly remove them from sight.  She swallows them.

She is so though, so demanding of her own work, that after only a few initial stern corrections, she inspects her own work in close detail, not allowing any excuse to be observed by her owners.  Humbled on her knees, head bowed, hair ragged, moist and dirty, she waits the inspection.

It is now time to care for the pet dogs.  Their dinner and water bowls need to be cleaned of old food, oils, dirt, hair… as well as her own bowls.  Kneeling and bound, she waits as the bowls are lined up in front of her on the floor, a small pot of warm wash water placed next to her thigh, and she starts to clean them, again using only her mouth, lips and tongue.  All must be absolutely clean, shinny and sparkling, for only the best serving dishes can be given to the dogs, and she must insure they are spotless, top and bottom.  Only when the dog bowls are cleaned, can she turn to her own bowls, and insure they are clean and spotless for her owners touch when the dishes are taken and filled with scraps from the table and fresh water.

A bound and humbled slave finds few real joys, and her owners know it.  When she does wrong, when she is incomplete, when she has not performed, her water bowl is filled with filthy water that she must drink there on the spot.   And then she must lick the sediment from the bottom, so the bowl is returned just as clean as it was before.  On those rare moments of exhaustion when she has performed to the edge expected, a blow of clean water is produced that she may drink at leisure when she eats her scraps.  Scraps she must eat quickly using only her mouth, as she must compete with the other dogs just to keep for herself, for they are quick to nose in and take her food for themselves.  And the slave will go hungry another day.

She is taken to the dungeon then, for long hours of intense and helpless bondage.  She will be kept tightly hooded, a cock gag deep in her mouth, a collar wide and tight on her throat, she is bound as her owners wish, so they may leisurely but deeply mark her with the cane, or lash her endlessly with the long, thin leather whip.  She is of full use, full service to her owners, as it must be then a slave is owned.  Her nipples and lips tightly clamped, her owners intend for her to suffer for them completely, without release, only moment of less pain or more intense humiliation.

Her breasts are whipped and caned to leave those long, deep, purplish marks that are impossible to hide when she dresses or while she is working to keep the house spotless.   The welts on her thighs and butt tell the same story, that she serves, that she sacrifices all and anything for her owners.  She realizes that without her marks of ownership, she is nothing.  Only a lost slave which is worst than any death.

She knows that the electric probes are coming, throbbing, stunning, painful, clipped to her nipples, her clit, in her vagina, up her anus.  The voltage and duration entirely at the whim, the passing thought of her owners.  Such use, so acutely bound and controlled, so helpless to do anything but obey, and feel her owners desires raking her burning nerves, she is used.  She is used it seems for long hours for the purpose of wearing out the batteries and nothing else.   She knows that the vibrator has been attached in its harness, and presses tight against her clit and is set to run at its maximum for many hours still.  She will cum until the pain blinds her and pleases her owners.

Still, there is more control.

Even her breathing is tightly controlled, allowed to have air only after feeling intense pain, only after being deeply marked.  For long seconds, she can not breath at all while her owners tell her what is to happen the rest of the night.  Helpless, lungs in service to her owners just as deeply as her mouth when kneeling, she is told to cum, and she must, or she will not be allowed to breath again.

Repeated on into the night, into the next day, she is used and abused and humiliated to such depths, to such exhaustion that she finally fades into darkness.  She is taken from where she was bound and chained to a ring in the corner wall by her neck, the rest of her body still helplessly bound, hooded and gagged, she is allowed to rest, to dream of her next service to her owners.

Will they mark her still more

Will she be locked away in the wooden chest for god knows how long

Will she be taken outside and chained to a tree for the night, alone and helpless.

Will she be hung naked upside down from the rafters, bat-like, vibrator still running on top speed?

She knows that it will not end, not this night, not any night.

Reassured, she is content and sleeps those few hours, where ever she is put.

The Ethics of Imprisonment.

There are several ethics in being a prisoner in a controlled environment.

Total restriction on and complete control over your life

Forced labor

Punishment, torture, degradation, humiliation, and objectification.

Total restriction and control would see you kept naked, chained, collared, hooded, blindfolded, gagged, except when it is to the benefit of your wardens.  Confined tightly bound in a locked space, chained to an anchored post, suspended by ankles from the ceiling, living in a straight jacket, hog tied and placed in a box for safe keeping.  You are just an object subject to use and control, hidden in the lower dark cellar, out of sight and mind of everyone who ever knew you.

Forced labor, chained ankles and wrists to wash, scrub, clean, polish, garden, and attend to the other objects in your wardens life, just to earn your keep, when locked away at the end of the day.

Punishment at the whim of your owners, placed and secured to maximize your humiliation, flogged, whipped, caned, and tortured to what ever end and extreme your wardens find you are useful for.  Chained to a cross, clamped and weighted, caned to deeply mark and make your body throb, your head locked in a thick and cruel leather hood for your complete isolation and helplessness, for days and nights and more days again.

Never given a soft spot, always the harsh stone floor, the uncaring chains and locks, the choking gag, hold you, keep you in the place your must learn to live in for the duration of your imprisonment.  A total inferior used by man or woman, dominant or sadist.

It can be a severe life.

And so many are drawn to it, desiring it never to end

by Steven Craig

There is always a relationship, between two people, and for this discussion, assume it to be a man and a woman.

There is nearly always in a relationship, a leader and a follower, a dominant and a submissive.

There is in the spectrum of all possible relationships, the set of those generally given the label of B&D, BDSM, S&M, D/s, Master/slave, Daddy/little girl, Owner/owned, Trainer/animal, Lord/chattel, etc./etc.

These are all of course deterministic on the individuals dreams, desires, fantasies, needs, wants, up-bringing, fetish, sexual expression, time, space, money, language, laws, limits, feelings, etc, etc, etc.

What is it that is fascinating to one is a complete close down by another. What is it that is needed by one is not in the least required by another. What is it that makes one submit that makes another dominate over the submitter. What is it that both can just walk away from if it is not ‘right’ for them.

There is no one answer. That elusive answer is rather unique to each of us, with some overlap of common influences which actually allow us to conduct the relationship further. If we were locked into a tiny space of thought where only that preeminent personal thought and logic defined who and what was acceptable in another in its narrowest terms, there would be precious little relationships.

Widening the scope of the human part of the relationship, and not the perceived, we find we enter the realm of needs and desires. Here is where the world starts for most. Somewhere, at some point in our lives, often at a very young age, we encounter something that changes us forever. Sometimes, it is a good experience, sometimes a bad one, but most often, no matter the conditions, we are often too young to understand or know the meaning, so we literally make it up. We assign thoughts and emotions and feelings to the occurrences as children (and sometimes as adults) that we do not understand, but still need to explain at a very personal level to ourselves.

From these occurrences, many of our phobias and loves, personality traits and dreams, desires and needs, values and self worth are flung out onto our life’s stage, to grow or fester or to question or remain unanswered. Here we find the challenges or the denials, the future paths or life to take or those we take our refusal of. Here, as children, we are exposed to our uncertain adult life's future, without the tools of the mind to correctly assist us in being ‘ 'correct'. So we wing it at first, and then we think on it, and dream about it and fantasize about it and it becomes a part of our being, overtly or hidden, intensely or just as an uncertain question, still a part of who we are.

From that uncertain nebula, we grow into who we are, and carry with us all the emotions and thoughts that were there as children, into our ever aging adult lives.

It is here, as adults, we have the opportunities to understand these characteristics of our being, or to blindly concede to either denial or lemming like acceptance. It is from this ledge, as one leaps, that either knowledge flourish’s or fails, but we still remain who we are. It is here, on the precipice, my feet dangling in the thin aire, that I write this to you.

I come back to the frank condition that BDSM in all its attributes, is a relationship. In it, both the dominant and the submissive are there for a reason, to share themselves in the mutual hope of gathering fulfillment of their needs.

In nearly all cases, the submissive wants to please, to give, to sacrifice, to endure, to commit to such a degree that she is recognized as doing something good, acceptable, desired, valued. In nearly all cases, the dominant wants to control, provide safety and protection, gives order to the chaos, and to be made happy with the dedication and sacrifice of all that the submissive has to offer him.

That is the ideal. Of course, reality is always different. Here, we find ourselves with individual needs and expectations. Here we find the uniqueness, and the compromises made to enable us to share the unique with the unique, and thus form a relationship where the one that controls and the one that is controlled, can flourish.

But why?

The answer to why one needs to be controlled is rather endless in its possibilities. Certainly, to have order in their lives, to have limits on were they place their energy, to have defined expectations and goals, but nearly always, it is to fill a basic need in all humans: security. That one feeling, being secure, and its derivatives of nurture, growth, competition, contentment, etc. are all so very valuable to people, so much so, that they are often willing to give most everything they are to have it in their lives. Some, give everything.

A submissive realizes at the minimum, that sub-conscious level, that for someone to tie her, bind her, chain her, and other wise control her, she is wanted, desired, valued, even if it is done so darkly, she is still wanted. That is a basic security. A submissive realizes that when she sees a dominant express his pleasure in her hard efforts to please him, she is filling a need to give and that alone can be all it takes to have her realize that there is significant purpose to her life. She will want more of all of it.

Where there is no one to please, and worst, when there is no one to make her feel she is controlled, with its underlying meaning of being desired and wanted, she is lost. She is miserable, unhappy, alone, encapsulated in a small emotional space of no growth, and endless and its meaning is over. When she has it again, it is like the turning of a corner, and seeing the fresh beauty of the sunrise repeated all over again. And indeed, it is emotionally just that, the very same feeling people have to see the coming of the sun each day once more. Security. Safety. Meaning to life.

I have found, that the submissive’s I have spent my time with, are very intelligent, creative, expressive, and in that sphere of their lives, there is such chaos at times that they welcome an institution of order and control. A creative mind can conceive of doing 50 things and more at once, but the reality is that it is not possible. Such people run themselves to the brink of total exhaustion on a daily basis, and are always at risk of an emotional trauma because they have no spare energy or capacity to relax. They look for something, and at times, anything, that can take away this constantly recurring stress.

There are submissive’s that enjoy being cared for, in all aspects of their life. The complex reaction of the mind to be totally opposite of the relentless daily surge of driven energy, here ones mind does the opposite. To obey, to be told, to be directed, to be controlled in all aspects of daily life is at the minimum appealing in its simplicity, and at a more interesting extreme, thrilling and erotic. To have it all figured out (what ever that ‘all’ is), has immense appeal. TO do what you are told, to obey (we were only obeying orders), makes the mind use the capacity to work something out that was always in a stressful environment, use that capacity instead to perform and act and enjoy the process of doing. There is always the extra added bonus of a ‘'reward'’, that no matter how sophisticated we think we are, we as humans still immensely enjoy.

At the extreme, are those that want no relationship, and in a sense, only continued emotional abuse. To not be loved, but to be used, can make a person feel small again. A child again. Where there is no personal will and no personal morals or self esteem. There is a great deal to be said for negative attention that children so enjoy. This interesting feature is carried over to adult times, and is often an explanation for being a slave or property of another, totally responsive to another, and when the needed response is not readily available, it is provoked.

The truth is often that most submissive’s look to have something ‘special’ or ‘'unique'’ to make them feel even more alive than anything in everyday life can. To live to another’s will, to respond to another’s demands, to enjoy the sensations and activity presented to them by what is perceived as force and energy of the others mind, is all too appealing for several reasons.

There is in this presented a rare opportunity to not have to be responsible. Let another take on this task.

There is the undeniable excitement of having something different, dark, mysterious, even ‘'dangerous'’ occur with you or to you, that can not be denied. TO be helpless in the face of it, to be used despite protests, is often akin to riding a roller coaster or taking a sky dive. It is totally out of ones control to prevent or stop the process once started, and thus, the mind perceives this, closes down the thinking and logic and excuse generator, and becomes open (for the moment) to sheer enjoyment of the fact of life as presented at the moment.

What does this all mean? What great human complications are occurring in the emotional and mental being that is living and breathing this experience? What does it do for you?

Perhaps you enjoy the portions of the spectrum of the submissive, the giving, the pleasing, the sacrifice, the endurance. There is the erotic and emotional tension and relief of being taken, tied, chained, gagged, blindfolded, restrained for another’s perceived attentions and pleasures. The relief of not being the one to make the decisions, or take the action. The enjoyment of being kept and held and wanted. The love of the different and the exciting and the thrilling, all that feed a mind that has a constant need for stimulation, joy, fear, happiness, sadness, hope or denial.

It is important for me to stress here, that control, is not the state of controlling or micro-managing. That the sensations that are erotic, and may be intense, are not abuse. To give ones self for that period of time, is not giving up who you are, but more so, liberating who you have always been.

After discovering these little features, it is far more complicated to understand and know the individual. Why does this person love to be tied and whipped, and the person next to her want to be emotionally controlled without a crop in sight.

Each is a unique person, and each has a need and a desire that is built by a long life of denial, of never having the opportunity to have the need expressed. To be held in ones arms, to be tied tightly, to be chained, to be wrapped tightly in leather or plastic, to be boxed or caged or otherwise contained so that the mind is put into a relaxed state from making decisions or taking responsibility. The more ‘'helpless'’ one is perceived to be, the more another must take over the responsibility of her existence, no matter the length of term. To have finances or clothing or housing or education controlled in the same scope of having that personal decision and responsibility removed as being chained or caged.

Still, in the end, no matter the intellectual masturbation performed to explain, to disclose, to define and to put some kind of understood order to all of this, it is still right down at the personal level that it makes its impact. For who can deny how intense humiliation can impact some, or exhibitionism or bondage or clothing or fetish wear can fill the need, the dark corner, the private lust that lives in each of us. Who can say that being the object instead of the person in a relationship is not more of a pleasure than any other existence. Who can say that giving it all up for an hour, a day, a month, a lifetime does not give more meaning to your life than being a nun or a doctor or a poet.

When you make the final accounting of your life up to the moment that you mark as now, it is a simple balance book of emotional and spiritual happiness that is the gage, the reference point, the holy grail of your personal existence.

Are you happy?

Do you feel Loved?

Do you know you matter?

Have you found the thrill and excitement in new things each day that you first experienced with the first kiss or hug or spanking or whipping or loosing in a wrestling match or seeing a photo that evoked a feeling, or read a story you just needed to live yourself to know the deeper meaning.

Do you know that your existence is made better being the one that gives up her olde school self and becomes the new person that was always there waiting her chance.

There are no limits on what you can be, only on what you allow yourself to become. When you reach the final day of your life, will you say that you did what was expected of you or will you say you did what you needed to do to have your own life expressed.

Once one reaches the point where there is an answer that being a part of a relationship where the exchange of personal power and life’s direction are understood, can you really touch the face of that power that gave you this life to live. From there, the gate does indeed open, to an undiscovered country that beckons you to know yourself in the new and different joy of that exchange.

There are 10,000 paths to happiness according to olde Chinese lore, and 9,996 involve domination and submission.

Pick yours.

Objectification

The willingness to go where you have never gone before

realizing that you can never return to who you were when you started

and coming to terms with the fact that you need it more now

than you did just the day before.

To understand and experience that progressive and relentless denial

of your long known personal senses and relating to your place in life

and to feel suddenly more alive in being restrained than

you ever were when you thought you were free.                

It is not your body that is changed.

It is entirely in your mind.

Each nerve in your body is an extension of that mind,

and it is redirected, retrained, to motivate the mind in this different dimension.

To be totally controlled, totally restrained, totally helpless

completely pliable, driven to that point of mental and physical exhaustion

where the old is broken and shattered, eroded from your life forever

and in its place, you are reset, to exist within the confines of another's will.

An object taken and beaten into a new form.

A thing owned without a will.

An animal caged and broken of that will.

A bush kept rooted in its new place.

In the process, each step, each action, each demand placed on you

re-embroiders your mind.  Your mind IS the thing shaped.

Your body obeys and follows

But your mind is the possession owned and displayed.

It starts with your eyes, your vision, your portal on the world you have known until now.

That long known vision of the world about is darken, blacked out, covered tightly

endlessly, remorsefully, to train the mind, the deeper soul of this turn in reality

that performance is what you are taught, trained, ordered to perform henceforth.

The form of the leather hood encompasses your eyes, your face, your cheeks, your hair,

drawn tight and still tighter along the back of your skull, reinforcing a constant will,

secured intentionally by a strict wide collar gathered around your throat

to make the accommodation secure with the firm clasp of the lock.

In those transitional instances, your mind comes to understand there is this new horizon,

that your vision of the world rests now with the commands and sounds heard

that you will strain to absorb and comply to, that in the passing zephyr of anthers breath

is now your link to each step you will ever take in this submission and bondage.

It takes the key physical attribute of formerly being human, your arms and hands,

and forever restrains them.  Those hands that work, create, shape and mold, and allowed your formal independence, the muscled and dainty arms that were used in the everyday chores

are now restricted with just as much attention to detail.

Wrists cuffed and locked together, elbows belted tightly into toughing, now held long against the spine,

slid into an all encompassing black leather single glove, laced tightly palm to shoulder,

belts locked about holding the wrists, lower and upper arms in a leather restraint that forever denies

any use, any function, any forever creativity until they are trained otherwise.  Someday.

Still, your body is taxed as the leather stiletto boots are pulled over your feet, and up your legs

lacing of leather tightly pulled to hold them, turn of the ankle to the crotch,

each bone, each inch of skin, each flame of nerve is alive with the compression, the hobbling

the sudden curve of the seven inch heel lifting unnaturally against the earth's gravity your have know.

Your mind encased in that darkness, the hood gives the outside no hint of you, no recognition, no understanding that you were ever someone else.  You have no face to show the world, no personality, no expression to tint the viewers eyes, but inside, you are changing, differing yourself from who you were to what you will now be, a lasting change that will be your only pleasure.

Your mind understands the sudden change when made to stand, the tight boots, the highest heel marks your mind with the need to learn new awareness of balance, new muscles that must react to prevent a fall, with arms to mediate, without hands to grasp, you will quickly know, but must take a still longer time to make true your new understanding of place just to stand, just to take a few steps.  If allowed.

You can hear them, the cold, heavy chains that are locked about the ankles, restricting greater still any movement, limited to the few inches of space before the links are tight on the ankles, again it almost wills you to topple over, your mind rushes to transform its awareness, its thoughts to make amends against that pull of gravity yet again.  Now, even to stand still is the very least of all burdens.

A chain is locked to the neck collar.  You can feel the pull of the thing, hear the lock, and realize that something long planned for your transformation is about to begin, the length of which there is no one to foretell.  Pulled down to your knees, for a brief moment the respite from standing is welcomed, until your mind realizes that so encumbered, you can no rise on your own, not ever again.

You are commanded to lower your hooded head, to have your forehead touch the wood floor, to press your hips up until they are at a right angle to that floor.  To not touch the floor with your toes.  Your breasts hang naked, hang down like a cow, sensations pulsing, exposed, waiting, expecting, preparing, needing.  You are told to crawl forward, not lifting your head from the floor.  You are told, this is your allowed form of locomotion.

Your life is now centered on practicing this motion, in a lowly revolving circle, delimited by the length of the next chain, you feel your forehead slowly scrap the floor.  Your knees working to press the body onward, feeling the building fire of pressure, unable to measure either starting or endpoint, you can only slowly propel yourself in the endless circle, in your minds total darkness, forgetting for a rash moment your command.

The cane is fire upon your upper thighs, a lash burning deep into the skin, awaiting the numbing senses from the dull repetitive circling, your first reminder that your mind must only consider what you are becoming, have become, will always been, obedient to the new rules of being a thing, and not for any moment to slip into a lapse of thought no longer allowed.  The cane finds you repeatedly, branding the mind to that obedience.

You are told to stop.  You hear the words, but hear the footsteps as well, the slapping of the cane against his leg as you are told that your natural position is to be as you have practiced, until trained otherwise, you are only a thing to be trained, molded, and kept, growing in awareness you really are not to be a person any longer, no longer a woman, only a trained thing, a trained creature, not even a real animal.

You are pulled forward, and you follow, careful not to touch boot toe to floor.  The unmistakable metal sound of a metal hinge opening is your only sound, even as you continue to move forward, you are lifted but inches and pulled into a steel cage, the door closing and locked behind your feet, you are told to lay against the cold bars and sleep for the night.   A chain is locked to your ankles, a pull suggesting the end is locked to the cage.

And there you are, it all happened so fast, and yet, it was al so powerful, so intoxicating, so numbing of the minds eye, to now be in this position of service forever, concealed even from your own eyes, allowed only the luxury of obeying commands to the most strictest detail, you do indeed obey and sleep, the first sleep that you have ever known as property.  Certainly, not the last.

There is for your future, no need of choice, decision or debate.

You function to maintain the mind of a thing, in a place where it craves deprivation

A mind that, in long training and punishment, it learns it's place

and will always and forever keep sacred its joy in objectification.