blindsatanist
Posts: 4
Joined: 10/18/2013 Status: offline
|
HAIL SATAN!!!!!!!!! There are so many ways in which a person can make another person suffer. Countless ways, in fact. I've discovered many, many ways to make people suffer both emotionally and physically. I've even gotten people to suffer religiously. But there is one very unique way in which to make people suffer that I absolutely love and crave often. This unique thing is forcing worthless, good for nothing submissives to act like dogs in more ways than many people can ever imagine. Trust me, it is so much fun! But I don't do it for the pleasure of my submissives, for I care nothing about them. I do it solely for my pleasure only. In fact, I enjoy making people suffer more when I know that they aren't enjoying it. That's how sadistic I truly am. A while ago, I forced this butt ugly, good for nothing, piece of shit submissive named Mark to act like a dog. I tied a shock collar and a leash around his neck and shouted "Mark, speak!" "What do you want me to say?" He asked pitifully. "Bad dog, I said SPEAK!” I yelled, outraged that I had been disobeyed so quickly. I pressed one of the buttons of the shock collar, the button that sent moderate shock waves throughout his entire body. The collar had three options of electric voltage to shock someone with. The first was mild, the second was moderate, the third was EXTREME! I pressed the moderate button and licked my lips in satisfaction as he gasped and shrieked "OW!" "Speak!" I shouted at him again and pressed the moderate shock button again. At last Mark got the point. He let out a meek little whine. "Bad boy! I said speak!" Before I could press the shock button again, he gave me a real bark, loud and throaty. "Good dog," I said and offered him a milk bone for a treat. I sat back and watched as he struggled to chew and swallow it. When he gagged on it, I'd laugh. Jinny, another dom who was present, said "Marky boy, why don't you like your treat your master has so kindly given you?" "Oh Jinny, you are such a fool!" I cried. "You can't speak to him like he's a human, you must speak to him like a dog because that's what he is. He is a stinky, hairy, stupid mutt." Mark took forever to eat his treat. I gave his leash an impatient yank, jerking his neck up. "Finish up!" I bellowed. At that, a low, menacing growl slipped from his throat, probably because I interrupted his enjoyment in eating his luscious treat. Taking a belt off of a hook, I walked over to him and smacked him on the top of his head with the buckle. "Bad dog, no growl. Bad, bad dog." A low, whining protest escaped his lips and he tried to stand up on his two legs but I yanked on his leash, putting him into a choke hold until he crumpled down on all fours again. "Sit!" I commanded. When he hesitated, I pressed the EXTREME button on the shock collar and stood by laughing as he lay on the floor, writhing in pain. His neck was streaked with sweat. I removed the leash and collar, then turned the collar over the other way so that the wire end was touching his skin. By doing this, every shock I gave him would effect the nerves more severely and the effects would be more debilitating. "Sit!" I commanded again after he regained his composure. This time he eagerly obeyed. "Good boy," I praised him. Then I took out a long rope bone and threw it in his face. "Play time little puppy," I cooed and proceeded then to force him to play tug-of-war with me for an entire hour. If he didn't growl enthusiastically enough or put enough strength and spirit in the game I'd give him a whack with the belt or a friendly little shock just to remind Doggie who was boss. At some point, Mark grew thirsty. He tried to verbalize in human language that he was thirsty but, when he did that I made him eat half a bowl of canned dog food mixed with dried dog food and shocked him until he started panting and sticking his tongue out. Turning to Jinny, I said "Mutt is thirsty. Let's lead him to water." "How is he going to drink out of a glass if you are forcing him to eat dog food by shoving his head in the bowl and slopping it all over while he tries to eat the disgusting stuff?" "He's a dog, Jinny, his instincts will tell him what to do." Walking in front of Mark, I pulled on the leash, saying "Heel" until I had him walking right beside me. When he tried to pull on the leash, I'd give him a massive yank back, which would cause him to cough and splutter. He even almost threw up his dog food and treat I so mercifully gave him after such a long, fun game of tug-of-war. As I lead him out of the room to the bathroom, I told him, "You should be grateful that I am such a good master. There are a lot of pups and old dogs wandering the streets hungry and with nobody to play with. You have been fed, entertained, and even given a treat for being such a good boy. It’s a dog's life around here, is it not, my Marky, Marky Poo?" Once we reached the bathroom, I lifted the toilet seat up and dragged him closer. When he hesitated, I shoved his head in the toilet bowl and ordered "Drink it! Like a dog because that's what you are and nothing more than a dog." The first try didn't satisfy me. He didn't make that slurp slurp, slurp slurp sound that dogs make when they drink water. He just sipped it in tiny swallows. I pressed the moderate button on the collar, making him flinch and whine. "Drink up boy. Drink! Who knows how long I'll make you go without water." The second try was a little better but I still had excuses to flog him with the belt buckle and shock him for his poor performance as a dog. Turning to Jinny I said, "I think he's an in bred dog. Why else is he acting so damn stupid? His father must be his brother, too." "You're doing good, Mark, just drink how you need to drink it," she soothed. "He can't understand full sentences because he's just a worthless dog. He can only understand a word or two at a time. Remember, he only understands doggie language fully but we have to train him just how to understand humans and what we expect of him. Consider this his doggie obedience school or doggie boot camp." The third time he drank from the toilet, it was satisfying to me. I laughed as he slurp, slurp, slurped, splashing water all around with his disgusting tongue as he fought to swallow it all and keep it down. Twice he gagged and twice I kicked him in the butt with my boot and said "Quit with the fur balls, you disgusting, slobbery mutt." After a minute or so, I got tired of hearing him slurp and then turned the tables on him. Taking the leash in my hand, I violently jerked his head up out of the toilet bowl. "Bad, bad dog! No no! Bad dog drinking out of the toilet." I dragged him out of the bathroom and locked him in a crate for punishment. While he whined and howled, I shouted "Shut up, shut up!" And when I got tired of hearing him howl relentlessly, I shocked him into stunned silence. It wouldn't take much more training before he would obey my every command without hesitating to avoid receiving such horrific shocks and beatings. He still would sneak to the bathroom for toilet sessions when I wouldn't give him water enough but that just made it all the more fun for me. That is not the extent of what I did to Mark. I also forced him to walk on a leash outside on all fours. I forced him to stop at every bush and tree and mark his territory so that when other dogs in the neighborhood came by they would catch his scent and they would leave their mark, too. Mark was also trained to walk with his head bent down so that his nose touched the ground. He made sniffing and snuffling noises along the way, just as he should. Before each walk, I made Mark do a series of tricks, that included excited, relentless barking and shrill whimpering, jumping around, wagging his butt back and forth as dogs wag their tails, and then sit obediently as I put his walking leash on him. I also brought other dogs to visit Mark and, when they would come, I'd force Mark to sniff their butts, lick their butt holes, and lick the faces of the dogs while they licked his in turn. I also made Mark pee on top of their pee. A few times I made him stick his nose into the shit of other dogs during a long walk that we took because that is what dogs do. When the dogs would sniff Mark's butt and he'd shy away, I'd say "Oh Marky boy, they're just shaking your hand. That's them saying hello, you should know that. Come on, be social." Whenever Mark would lick me I'd tie him up in the tool shed and I'd leave him there for hours while I went out and got ice cream or got a massage. Sometimes I'd bring back human food and I'd sit in the tool shed and would make Mark watch and salivate and whimper and pant while I enjoyed my delicious, luxurious food. Jinny would sometimes say "He's hungry now, can't we give him some real food?" I'd reply with a wicked smile, "He's got real food right there." And then I'd point to his doggie bowl filled with Blue Buffalo dog food and a rawhide chew bone for him to clean his teeth and satisfy his canine instinct to chew on things during the time when I was away. In time, Mark learned that the only things he could get away with licking were other dogs and their butt holes and himself. Showers were forbidden so if he wanted to be clean he had to lick himself clean. I also took great pleasure in playing fetch with him with tennis balls. I also bought him toys that squeaked when he chewed on them. All the while I was laughing, I knew that Satan, my DARK LORD and my demons that live inside my soul were laughing right along with me! HAIL SATAN!!!!!!!!!
|