Fear

originally posted March 13, 2006

I own them.

They need not concern themselves with prior failures, incidences in the past that were beyond my control or concern. They are mine. I handle my bitches. I can be stubborn. Difficult to deal with. I can be cold. Unmoving. On occasion, I can be cruel. I need give accounting of neither my actions nor my attitude. Every one of them, from the first girl of Samsara to the bottom whore of the Boarding House coffle has tasted my discipline. Some more than others. Some far more than others.

I own them.

They need not concern themselves with prior failures, incidences in the past that were beyond my control or concern. They are mine. I handle my bitches. I can be affable. Easy to approach. I can be warm. Loving. On occasion, I can express my concern. I need give accounting of neither my actions nor my attitude. Every one of them, from the bottom whore of the Boarding House coffle to the first girl of Samsara has tasted my indulgence. Some less than others. Some far less than others.

I own them.

Whether they were stolen from the arms of another, appropriated as goods in the signing of a contract or simply placed in a collar because it pleased me to do so does not matter. They are mine. I handle my bitches. They have much to rejoice. They have much to fear. They are fed because it pleases me to see them nourished. They are given garments because it pleases me to see them clothed. I provide them shelter because it pleases me to see them housed. I need not do any of this. From time to time, I remove one or more of these indulgences from a girl that she and the others around her understand that nothing in their lives can be taken for granted. Rejoice, but fear. That is what the sensible girl will come to understand. In time.

I own them.