CF Pig

The control

Sometimes, when people discover how I love to be treated like a useless pig – which I try to make happen only when I want to, of course – they ask me questions. The questions never end. Things like: why do you feel so useless? What is it about being controlled that you love so much? Is it a need or a want thing? That kind of stuff. Now, I could go into detail here in answering these questions. I could say how, in the dead of the night, I love nothing more than to be dragged out of bed by a powerful woman and forced to do hideous things – like licking the toilet seat after she’s been on it, for example – but I won’t. Instead, to give you a more rounded idea of how things are for me, I am going to tell you how an average being-dominated-night really is. That should really put you in the picture.

It is morning and I am late for work. My dominatrix is called Linda. I am thinking about Linda as I brush my teeth. Linda, I am thinking, I need you to inflict pain on my piggish, ugly, pathetic self right now!

Up until this point, I am a normal human being with values. But when the door opens those values disappear

Obviously thinking this just makes me even later for work. Nevermind. I have a LOT to look forward to after work…oh yes…

Work is dull. Linda is everywhere – in the tea I make for us all at break, and in the flushing sound of the toilet (yes, I know it sounds weird, but that’s how much I think about being ruled by Linda).

When I have finished work I take a different bus to the usual bus I take home. This one leads me to the other side of the city, to see my dominatrix .

I ring the bell at Linda’s moderate apartment, the kind of place where actually you would expect a dominatrix to live. Up until this point in time, I am a normal human being with values. But when the door opens those values disappear. Before I know it Linda is riding me down the hall. I am wearing leather that goes SQUEAK-SQUEAK on the shiny marble floor.

In Linda’s dungeon, almost anything goes. There is a small amount of blood and lots of sweat and the kind of miserable, enchanting pain that I so adore.

This is the real me, the ruled, the pathetic. And how I do love Linda.

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