Teaching her how to be useful.
Teaching her how to be useful.
It’s important to have the right hardware for the job.
I give her time to ponder.
Having fun yet? I am!
Tell me who these belong to, girl.
I just love making them dance for me.
Because they’re mine. That’s why.
I want her to feel my ownership at all times.
I’ll be honest… I have a hard time saying “past life connection”, even though it feels like I’ve known her for a thousand years and more. I take pride in my rational self, and this flies in the face of everything that rational side holds dear.
What I do know is that, despite the irrationality, when my inner voice speaks, I listen. It feels a lot like an old RPG game you’ve played many times. You just know what choices to make, because you’ve made them a thousand times before. And some people are like old friends the first time you meet them. I got that feeling a few days ago from a couple whose property I’m likely going to buy.
Her profile said she enjoyed long nature walks.
I do whatever I want with my property.
Training done right.
I see it.
The warm rays of a lazy afternoon, flowing down like honey upon your hair.
The horses playing in the distance, and your precious smile as you watch them dance.
I smell it.
The fragrant aroma of the wild flowers in the field.
You are like them, beautiful, hardy, fragile, lovely to behold.
I taste it.
A glass of wine as we sit upon a blanket in the meadow.
Your lips as we hold each other close and enjoy nature’s serene peace.
I hear it.
The tranquil gurgle of water, flowing on its thousand mile journey to the sea.
Your laughter as you frolic and splash, the water glistening on your skin.
I feel it.
The light puffs of your breath upon my chest.
Your arms holding me tight in the knowledge that nothing can harm you.
I know it.
We were destined to meet.
We are destined for so much more.
It’s getting close to lunchtime, and I’m feeling hungry. Unfortunately, Meatball isn’t here to make lunch on account of being locked up at the barn, so I go about making a quick sandwich. We’ve got some amazing cured meats that the neighbor brought over yesterday, and they go great with the tomatoes from the garden and some avocado, and the cheese we had made last week from our excess milk.
It’s a beautiful day out today, so I sit out on the porch to enjoy my midday meal. The dogs are of course following me around, hoping for a morsel, but they know they have to wait and not make a fuss. I tell you, there’s nothing quite as peaceful as listening to the gentle rustle of leaves while watching the horses graze in the distance. Horses are a lot of work, which is why Meatball finds herself in trouble today.
The barn and paddock need to be cleaned every morning; especially for Cody and Phasma, the messiest of the bunch. Meatball’s generally on top of this, but today she didn’t want to get out of bed.
Naturally, the punishment must fit the crime, so I rigged up some irons on the side of the barn. Right now she’s locked, spread, ankles, wrists, and neck, to the side of the barn, with a view of the distant road. She got to watch me clean up the horse shit, put up hay, feed, and water, and replace the wet sawdust. Each time I passed by, I’d stop to whip her, of course. She can watch the horses whenever they pass by, but she can’t pet them on account of being secured to the wall.
I finish up the last of my sandwich and gulp down the glass of water. She’s probably thirsty by now, too. I put away the dishes and head to the barn.
“Daddyyyyyy!” Obviously, she heard me coming. Good. “How are you doing, princess?” I ask sweetly as I turn the corner. She’s so fucking sexy, spread out like that. “Daddy please I’m sorry!” she cries plaintively. I hold up a hand and she quiets down. “Are you thirsty, princess?” “Yes, sir.” she says, nodding as much as her neck restraint allows. “Alright, I’ll fetch you some water.” I go back into the barn and fill a calf feeder bottle. It’s simple enough to tie it to a rope that hangs from a nail so that the nipple is at head height. “Keep this in your mouth, dear.” She drinks from the nipple, careful not to let the bottle swing and pull out of her mouth.
While she drinks, I work on her punishment some more. Her tits are still a bit red from before, but I want to see welts, and I have a new short whip I’ve been dying to try out. After getting into a rhythm, I add a bit more flick, watching her tits dance. “m!” “m!” “m!” “maaaah!” the bottle falls from her mouth and hangs near her head. “I said keep it in your mouth!” “I’m sorry, daddy!” she cries. “I don’t want to hear sorry. I want you to keep it in your mouth!” I put the bottle back in. “m! m! m! MMMNUUUU!” Now we’re getting somewhere. I can see streaks of sexy raised flesh. I give her tits a short rest and move my attention downward. “Keep drinking, little girl. I’m not stopping until it’s empty.” I watch her skin transform before my eyes. She’s about halfway done, sucking frantically at the feeder bottle as my whip works her over. There’s nowhere to go; no escape from her torment except to drink. And drink she does, tears streaming down her pretty little cheeks. I’m getting fucking hard as I watch her body writhe under my power, but I must keep it under control.
At last she sucks back the last few drops, earning an end to the cruel whip. I have to adjust my pants before I take the bottle out of her mouth. “I’m sorry, daddy! I’ll do my chores from now on!” “I know you will, honey. Are you hungry?” “Yes, daddy.”
I take her off the wall and lock her arms behind her with some handcuffs, then lead her into the spare stall before locking her in. I’ve already set it up with buckets of food and water. “Eat up! I’ll be back in a half hour to use your holes.” “Thank you, daddy.” she says meekly.
One cannot neglect ones chores.
Meatball and I are doing fine, thanks! I’m starting an apprenticeship on a farm in order to prepare me for when I buy a place in the summer. Meatball is thinking up names for the horses already ;-)
Regarding your question:
Peoples behaviors can and do change with their circumstances, but their core does not change.
By puberty, the strongest forces of your personality are already in place. By around 25, when the hippocampus is fully formed, you’re unlikely to develop any new personality traits (although previously suppressed parts can still come to the surface - people are complicated!).
There’s a whole range of approaches to monogamy. On one end, you have people who see cheating as a breach of their core ethics. They would rather die first. Further down the spectrum, you have people who are faithful by nature, but given long term neglect, would turn to someone else.
Then you have people who just don’t find monogamy to be very important. This is valid, provided both parties agree to it (e.g. open relationships). It is not valid if you don’t bring it up, or if one party does not agree. And breaching that trust is a sign of disrespect for the other party. I personally would not want to be around someone like this. If they don’t respect you already, they never will.
There are also people who think they can be monogamous, but actually can’t. Over time they will fall prey to their wandering appetite, and you’ll either have to manage their urges for them, or move on.
A friend’s betrayal is a bit more complex. You need to find out if they even evaluate the situation the same way you do. Usually if they do, they won’t be able to face you, unless they’ve actually turned against you (in which case the friendship is over regardless). Then there’s the circumstances leading to it. If they’re faced with a painful choice, they may be forced to choose against you.
So to answer your question, people don’t change, but their behavior is at least partially environment driven.
I’ll teach you how to do it right.
Nothing to do and nowhere to go.
Her training is progressing nicely.
Making sure they get good use.
The perfect end to a perfect day!
Ready for use. Any time.
Now she’s ready.
I also like things that remind me of little meatball.
It’s not your choice.
But you never wanted it to be.
She’s a keeper.
My property. I do with it as I please.
Safe and secure.
I’m always touching you, girl. No part of you can be hidden from me.
Something to focus on.
A nice, romantic, candlelit evening.
A girl just needs the right kind of attention.
Not comfortable, dear? I could always add some clamps.
You can’t hide from me. I know you like it rough.
Those quiet times of meditation are good for the soul.
Patiently she waits for me.
Yes, I tend to have that effect.
Right now you’ve got only one function, and it ain’t talking.
This brings back memories!
Healthy relationships require discipline.
It helps her keep her back level.