She's Back For More

Tears in her eyes she came back imploring for forgiveness feeling very ashamed and disrespectful to her master never swearing never to commit this atrocity of leaving his caring wings and always pleading always to remain protected by him praying he will take her back in.

This was a long shot she thought and her heart was pounding like never before from both the fear of being rejected and from the long late night run she just endured to get to this familiar place she always found to be peaceful despite the very strict rules implied to which now she is more than ever willing to abide.

She remembers the day she left after a big fight with him, her owner but at the same time provider of peace comfort and serenity, after he simply and casually enough asked her to do this one chore that triggered in her a sudden repulsive gratuitous action which allowed him to show aggressiveness in its most crucial way yet.

Something that for the first time and despite her welcoming submissive nature she could not tolerate or keep up with and instead of taking her usual position at the back dark end of the bedroom corner where she normally awaits her now becoming daily punishments and before he could tie her up, she found herself heading to that open door that leads to the unknown outside world she thought called freedom.

For the first time on her own she was wondering in this small dark alley not knowing where to go, a strong smell of fear coming out of her filling the air and triggering the interest of night watchers from five blocks around, all slowly gathering closer to her now shaking silhouette, drooling to the sight of their new found helpless prey.

Raped over 17 times in one sinister night she woke up and jumped out just before the yellow truck picked up and threw in for smashing the contents of the garbage bin in which she was dumped a couple of days ago.

Garbage stink, beer, piss and semen soaking her, now replaced the smell of fear and gave her courage for the first time in her life, courage to pick herself up or what is left of her and run and keep on running until she’s back home whishing only that all this was a nightmare and she will soon wake up in the comfort of her usual corner.

I am home looking at some pictures after two days of search when I suddenly hear a bark outside my door. I rush and open, Lassie jumps at me wiggling her tales and licking my face like never before. I hug her in despite the filth she brought with her.

I’m happy my dog is back.

It's All About You

Shocking how blogs are the perfect example of human vanity.

I have been surfing member’s pages for a while now and all I read are stories people post about themselves, what they like or dislike, things they did or planning to do, opening up like never before to this unlimited completely unknown public exposing their personal life on the internet killing altogether any sense of privacy they might have.

No limits as to what they can tell thus exposing the naked truth in all its meanings just like kneeling down in front of a priest in a confession room with the exception that this time instead of telling their sins and beseech forgiveness they set off in a eulogy of heroic performances they dare to call daily life.

Some often start with insinuating being in a bad situation, the worst you can ever imagine. Surrounded by evil they become victims of a cruel life they are fiercely fighting to overcome, something they always manage to do otherwise what is the use of writing about it if not to constantly come out a winner.

It has become a pure advertisement site where the majority of the writers post their CV-like personal achievements as if all big companies will scan here to find potential candidates for higher managerial positions they might have available.

The remaining very few others, those with a lesser imagination but still would like to participate in this race to fame and fortune end up writing their most boring daily activities usually focusing on the bad luck they have unknowingly divulging how pathetic they are in real life.

They tell you stories about accidents they had or their now dead dog, heartbreaks or their dear ailing relative, expecting from you some sympathy on the matter wanting you to be on your toes, finger crossed following the daily update of this sad event and hoping with them for a good ending for someone you have never met or seen in your entire life.

Come on people, making it more motivating is a challenge. Keep your personal lives to yourselves and maybe some of your close friends and start looking for something better to write about, something that would not bore to death this massive number of fellow bloggers reading you.

Anything that is not about you…