Cats and Dogs
I collected her clothes, made a fire in the hearth and burned them. She wouldn’t be needing them again.
Her cell phone, wallet and luggage were locked in my car. The door was locked as were the windows. It wouldn’t take a genius to know how to break out of my cabin, though, if she did get outside, it was sixty miles of rugged wilderness to the nearest human civilization that she would have to face naked. That nearest human habitation just happened to be a rough and tumble truck stop which I had pointed out on the way up, mentioning how, “We won’t be stopping as the drivers there were crude and violent.”
Wouldn’t want to be the attractive 19-year-old girl to face that nude either.
Of course, if she wanted to leave, all she had to do was ask.
That was the razor’s edge upon which my questionable ethics balanced.
I was planning on turning Daisy into my personal pet. I would use various manipulative actions and strategies over the next several days to remove pieces from Daisy, Independent Woman, and replace them new pieces I gave her to transform her into Daisy, Obedient Pet.
It wasn’t even really unusual for a gifted person to do this. In the slang, a female pet was a “cat” and a male pet was a “dog.”
Most dogs belonged to gay gifted men, though some gifted women liked a well-bred companion.
Why not a maid or other servant? I had machines for that. Even in 2000, people had washing machines and robotic vacuums. Now my hamper collected my clothes, took them to the washer/dryer which would sort, prep, then run wash loads perfectly balanced for materials, volume and stains. Then iron, fold or hang them. My bathrooms cleaned themselves. My bed made itself. My kitchen would cook for me and then reorder food following my instructions. I wasn’t a slob to begin with. There wasn’t much more that needed doing around my home.
I could cook, if I wanted, for the experience. I could go to a physical supermarket if just for the ennui. Farmer’s Market’s let me do the double duty of getting unusual groceries and picking up women. Still, I didn’t need a maid or a cook or any other domestic servant.
What I wanted was a pet. A pet who would allow me to stop going to bars and dance clubs and playing the silly, pretentious games when all I wanted was some sexual gratification and release.
If I was successful, Daisy would live out the rest of her life completely nude, happily being my sex pet.
Daisy had written in her journal, “I know this is a big step, accepting his invitation to come to his cabin. I know he said there were two bedrooms, but I know it will likely mean sex. Will he understand and respect that sex means commitment? I don’t know.”
Of course, when she wrote that, commitment meant committed relationship/engagement/marriage. She was still getting some of what she wanted. I would commit to own and care for her.
Still, the balance was I would not use physical violence or other means, just manipulation and conditioning. I could improve my chances of success by being willing to use physical punishments, psychotropic drugs and firm confinement, but what happened if she didn’t break? Would I be willing to murder her? Return her to civilization so I could face charges? At any moment, Daisy could refuse and go no further. There was no direct threat. She could demand, and I would return her home. If she stayed, it was by choice.
More than those practical considerations were my ethics. Really, my intentions didn’t bear scrutiny. I was trying to break a free independent person into being my slave. Still, when I went out to those bars and dance clubs, what was I doing? I was going to use manipulation to try and satisfy my lusts where everyone knew the rules of the game. This was the same thing; the stakes were just much higher.
I was gifted, not god. I had no guarantee of success. She had the option at any time of deciding to leave. If she did, she would be choosing not to be used. If not, she would become the thing of my choosing. Part of the game was to get her to commit to it. The deeper her regret if she walked away, the more she would tolerate each little step down the primrose path. I already had her virginity.
She had already committed her hopes and dreams to this relationship. She had also committed a great deal of her social status. Now she had committed her virginity. I knew she was very aware of these sacrifices. Demanding that I take her home would sacrifice all of them for nothing. How much easier to just continue with me and see where it went.
So, I waited for her to rise. When she awoke, I was there with her in bed facing her. She smiled at me and I smiled back. I had made sure there was no blanket. I reached across and put my fingers in her flower and gently rubbed her.
I was already training her. She would learn to live without any covering, being completely comfortable in only her skin. Secondly, in what might have seemed a romantic, sexy circumstance, I had established my right to reach out and manipulate her vagina at will.
She gave me back a pained smile. I had been waiting for that. Her vagina was no doubt sore from the previous night’s play. Still, she didn’t want to displease me. Not wanting to displease me was the first step.
I withdrew my hand and said, “You must be very sore. Let’s go take a bath. You’ll find it soothing.”
She smiled and said, “Okay,” in the cutest, meekest voice.
I took her hand and led her to the bathroom.
I had a round tub, five feet in diameter. I drew a warm bath, no bubbles.
Once drawn, I took her hand and helped her in.
Then I sat in the tub behind her and held her to me.
With a cloth and liquid soap, I carefully washed every part of her body. There was no place my hands did not go.
While everything else was done, I was making sure her flower had time to soak and be soothed. I put both hands into the hair of her vagina and gave her a thorough massage. As her passion rose, I let her feel my manhood against her rear. Still, I didn’t want her to come again so soon. So just as she was on the cusp, I stopped and got out of the tub.
She turned around and looked at me with confusion.
I held out my hand to help her out. She took it and I led her from the tub.
I brushed out her hair and put it in a towel. Then I dried her and let the towel drop to the floor. I led her from the bathroom.
Then I did something that I knew would confuse her more. I put on some clothes.
Her face scrunched up and she asked, “Where are my clothes?”
I looked innocent and replied, “Don’t you remember? We had a fire last night and you chose to burn them. It was quite an erotic display. You then promised to be nude for me forever.”
“We did? I did?” She asked, more confused. “I guess a lot was going on. I don’t remember everything. I guess I got a little tipsy again.”
“I found the idea of you being nude for me quite alluring. I have to admit, I’m still enjoying it.” I answered.
Of course, now I was dressed, and she was naked. No matter what the reasons, it created a clear power dynamic.
I led her still naked to the main area of the cabin. I had food prepared and brought to the table.
“Oh good, I was getting hungry.” Daisy announced.
I had only one place setting set. I took her to that spot, and I sat. I had her kneel on the floor next to me.
“Shouldn’t I have a place setting and a chair?” She asked, always more confused.
I looked at her and smiled, “Then you would be sitting so far from me. I like it better when you sit here, next to me.”
“Well, okay I guess.” She replied.
Now she was naked, and I was dressed. I was sitting at the table eating like a person and she was kneeling at my feet.
After I made a point of eating a bite and taking a drink, I took a morsel of food in my fingers and handed it down to her, she reached to take it in her hand.
I pulled the food back and went “Umm umm,” in the negative and mimed opening her mouth. When she opened her mouth obediently, I put the food directly in her mouth. After letting her eat, I gave her a sip of water.
We ate breakfast like that. I ate my food. She ate from my hand. At first, I just gave. By the end of breakfast, I had her in her proper pose. She was up on her toes, her knees fully bent and spread wide. Her arms in front of her in a begging pose. Yes, I know, more dog than cat, but the pose was so fetching for her. It made her arch her back and show off those lovely endowments of hers.
I had various exercise machines in the main room area.
I looked at her and said, “I have always found the vision of a running woman very sexy. You seem so athletic, would you run for me?”
“Umm, okay.” She answered.
I led her to the treadmill and put her on. Then I took the remote that operated it.
I sat down on the couch to watch. I started her out slowly. Wanted to make sure she warmed up. Didn’t want any injuries. Then I slowly increased her speed. I kept increasing it until the high-tech systems built into the machine let me know she was at her maximum. I kept her there until she was almost done. Then I backed it off, so she could keep going, when she would recover, I’d spin it up again. It was easy to keep track, because the machine could review the runner’s condition second to second.
I kept her going, constantly pushing her, making sure I would draw out all her energy.
Eventually, she said, “I, uh, I need to stop.”
I smiled, “Just a bit more.”
She smiled nervously and said, “Okay.”
When I knew she was about to collapse off the treadmill, I asked, “Are you thirsty?”
“Umm, yeah.” She replied.
“Then come here for a drink.” I ordered slowly shutting off the treadmill.
She walked over tiredly.
I pushed her to sit on the floor before me, it only took a few non-verbal cues and she was back in her position, knees spread wide, hands up and begging.
“I have this nice bottle of cold water. I bet your thirsty?” I asked holding up a stainless flask that was fogged and sweating in the cool air. I took a sip from it. She watched longingly.
I unzipped my shorts and my hard dick popped out.
“I have just one chore for you before you get some water.” I said.
“Hey!” she said, a bit defiance creeping into her tone.
I reached forward and down and rubbed her flower. In her awkward position, with my gifted speed, she never had a chance to object before I started. Then I brought her right to the edge again and left her there.
Then I leaned back leaving a funny, confused look on her face, “Now be good. Take care of that.”
The situation overloaded her, she leaned forward and started sucking. While holding her pose. I let her suck for a good while then rewarded her by coming in her mouth.
She didn’t try and swallow. My come dribbled down her chin. I used my finger to push it back in. “Now swallow. I know you’re thirsty. This is a drink too. It makes me happy.”
Then I rewarded her with some water. She reached up to take the bottle. I pulled back and said, “Uhh, uhh.”
She resumed her position and I poured the water in her mouth. Not as much as she wanted.
Then I asked, “Do you need to make?”
I replied, “Good girl.”