Blackmailed into puppetry

by Atldomdiscrete

I always find it delicious when I feel the panic in their heaving breast, in their breath, in their loins, the esoteric energies rushing forth like the waters of life fleeing captivity, the nerves screaming a trapped animal feeling, sending signals to every part of the straining body that it must escape this new hell. Of course with the Blackmailed slave there is the singular exception that it is human and cannot just run away from thew conditions that bind it to pain, humiliation, and slavery. It must live with its new life, swallowing all these on a daily basis, pathetically struggling, always kept moving between denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance but never allowed to rest in any one state permanently. Kubler-Ross might never have expected the her model to be put to use by sadists but then perhaps she would have enjoyed puppets situation and the pathetic level to which its life had degenerated. Perhaps the torments of hell are made finer by knowing that others are watching the emotions pulled from the unwilling victim like a long string wound around the soul. As the soul unravels one has the sensation of poignancy amplified by the victim’s hopeless struggle. The slow sinking of a desperate beauty in a pit of quicksand may be the only correspondence, a pale one. One of the nicer things about watching a slave in this position is its knowledge that others are going about their daily existence, enjoying their lives, while it suffers in secrecy and enforced silence. I think a lot of us find that pretty hot, don’t you?.

And so puppet was highly motivated to obey. After all it didn’t want all those pictures going out to the various addresses, both electronically and via snail mail. That could be quite embarrassing couldn’t it? One might lose everything, even the will to live. Better to suffer, better to become a receptacle for the pleasure of others, better to survive, even in a hell that was controlled by the very sadistic demons one had once called up to give one pleasure. Karma is a bitch isn’t it?

But puppet wasn’t quite motivated enough and K had asked me to help it discover itself by shedding its ego. The idea was to jump-start the process of Ego Snuffing in order to turn it into a better battery for others. After all it’s energy now belonged to its Owners and the esoteric House it had tried to disrupt.

Puppet needed punishment for the sin of disrespect and I was only too glad to escort it to the Piss Tank for a long overdue session of ego snuffing. Though it was male and I have little interest in that gender other than friendship I was delighted to help out a fellow Acolyte by handling her Blackmailed slave, a pathetic creature who resided in my city. As a sadist adept at pulling energy from the deep well of batteries that life produces in any creature, I knew I would find something to appreciate in structuring life for a puppet who had just gotten itself in a little over its head. Now its complacent middle-american life was going to be derailed, sent into a tailspin, stepped on by people far better than it, and used for the pleasure of those who deserved to have their own Personal Stress Receptacle, something every real person could use. Few have their own waste bin in which to dump the daily stresses of work and life. We are the exceptional few…and puppet regrets this hard fact every day of its life.

The occasion of puppet’s ego erasure was one night when it was summoned to attend me at a House where the only ego allowed was the one borne by Owners. In this House there were the Owned and the Owners and no one could mistake the two. Puppet had been there in attendance with me once before as a servant slave at a relatively quiet evening there while a slave was being punished as an example. The punishment was quite excrutiating, rather to the mind than the body.

But let me give you a description of the Piss Tank:

….work in progress

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