{ "submission_id": "1018976", "keywords": [ { "keyword_id": "378", "keyword_name": "bondage", "contributed": "f", "submissions_count": "73476" }, { "keyword_id": "2177", "keyword_name": "dungeon", "contributed": "f", "submissions_count": "3200" }, { "keyword_id": "383", "keyword_name": "master", "contributed": "f", "submissions_count": "4373" }, { "keyword_id": "6913", "keyword_name": "mistress", "contributed": "f", "submissions_count": "1500" }, { "keyword_id": "106328", "keyword_name": "posession", "contributed": "f", "submissions_count": "71" }, { "keyword_id": "528", "keyword_name": "slave", "contributed": "f", "submissions_count": "9681" }, { "keyword_id": "7513", "keyword_name": "sm", "contributed": "f", "submissions_count": "151" }, { "keyword_id": "948", "keyword_name": "story", "contributed": "f", "submissions_count": "14091" }, { "keyword_id": "1152", "keyword_name": "sub", "contributed": "f", "submissions_count": "2931" }, { "keyword_id": "1655", "keyword_name": "torture", "contributed": "f", "submissions_count": "5963" } ], "hidden": "f", "scraps": "f", "favorite": "f", "favorites_count": "0", "create_datetime": "2016-02-01 18:01:15.596339+00", "create_datetime_usertime": "01 Feb 2016 19:01 CET", "last_file_update_datetime": "2016-02-01 17:37:24.546042+00", "last_file_update_datetime_usertime": "01 Feb 2016 18:37 CET", "username": "Luso", "user_id": "35623", "user_icon_file_name": "99588_LusoSkav_luso_icon_by_nexsix-d9ggowsmol.jpg", "user_icon_url_large": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/usericons/large/99/99588_LusoSkav_luso_icon_by_nexsix-d9ggowsmol.jpg", "user_icon_url_medium": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/usericons/medium/99/99588_LusoSkav_luso_icon_by_nexsix-d9ggowsmol.jpg", "user_icon_url_small": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/usericons/small/99/99588_LusoSkav_luso_icon_by_nexsix-d9ggowsmol.jpg", "file_name": "1402233_LusoSkav_2670619.doc", "file_url_full": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/files/full/1402/1402233_LusoSkav_2670619.doc", "file_url_screen": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/files/screen/1402/1402233_LusoSkav_2670619.doc", "file_url_preview": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/files/preview/1402/1402233_LusoSkav_2670619.doc", "thumbnail_url_huge": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/huge/1402/1402233_LusoSkav_2670619.jpg", "thumbnail_url_large": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/large/1402/1402233_LusoSkav_2670619.jpg", "thumbnail_url_medium": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/medium/1402/1402233_LusoSkav_2670619.jpg", "thumb_huge_x": "120", "thumb_huge_y": "120", "thumb_large_x": "120", "thumb_large_y": "120", "thumb_medium_x": "120", "thumb_medium_y": "120", "files": [ { "file_id": "1402233", "file_name": "1402233_LusoSkav_2670619.doc", "file_url_full": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/files/full/1402/1402233_LusoSkav_2670619.doc", "file_url_screen": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/files/screen/1402/1402233_LusoSkav_2670619.doc", "file_url_preview": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/files/preview/1402/1402233_LusoSkav_2670619.doc", "mimetype": "application/msword", "submission_id": "1018976", "user_id": "35623", "submission_file_order": "0", "full_size_x": null, "full_size_y": null, "screen_size_x": null, "screen_size_y": null, "preview_size_x": null, "preview_size_y": null, "initial_file_md5": "696239f17671d87462ae0c1cce066cd5", "full_file_md5": "696239f17671d87462ae0c1cce066cd5", "large_file_md5": "", "small_file_md5": "", "thumbnail_md5": "0c18e38ae5d7a157a5d202ed73009a54", "deleted": "f", "create_datetime": "2016-02-01 17:37:24.546042+00", "create_datetime_usertime": "01 Feb 2016 18:37 CET", "thumbnail_url_huge": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/huge/1402/1402233_LusoSkav_2670619.jpg", "thumbnail_url_large": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/large/1402/1402233_LusoSkav_2670619.jpg", "thumbnail_url_medium": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/medium/1402/1402233_LusoSkav_2670619.jpg", "thumb_huge_x": "120", "thumb_huge_y": "120", "thumb_large_x": "120", "thumb_large_y": "120", "thumb_medium_x": "120", "thumb_medium_y": "120" } ], "pools": [], "description": "[i]Originally Submitted to FurAffinity.net on Aug 18th, 2009 03:12 AM.[/i]\n\nWeeeeeell\n\nI write. Somewhat. I love to write, not that many people know that, cos i hardly ever end up actually doing it, even if i have an immensely good time doing it.\n\nMostly, i do it at time where i'm frustrated with my art and cant stand to look at it for the most part. And since i have more confidence in my writing than anything pretty much (hey at least it cant look ugly like my arts can) so heh\n\nAnd since i'm artistically frustrated right now, this works\n\nThis is, obviously for anyone familiar with my stuff, about my character Mitchell (no, not my murrsonna, the name of this account is just a product of poor foresight and judgement fyi) , you know, scrawny faggy ass cat thing from that comic i'm so horribly frustrated about and considering on dropping alltogether or redoing from scratch.\n\nBut even if you dont know that or arent familiar with the character or its story, you can enjoy this, particularly if you're fan of s&m/dom-sub/slavery scenarios or something. I'll shut up now\n\nCRITIQUE IS FINE AND WELCOME PLX", "description_bbcode_parsed": "Originally Submitted to FurAffinity.net on Aug 18th, 2009 03:12 AM.

Weeeeeell

I write. Somewhat. I love to write, not that many people know that, cos i hardly ever end up actually doing it, even if i have an immensely good time doing it.

Mostly, i do it at time where i'm frustrated with my art and cant stand to look at it for the most part. And since i have more confidence in my writing than anything pretty much (hey at least it cant look ugly like my arts can) so heh

And since i'm artistically frustrated right now, this works

This is, obviously for anyone familiar with my stuff, about my character Mitchell (no, not my murrsonna, the name of this account is just a product of poor foresight and judgement fyi) , you know, scrawny faggy ass cat thing from that comic i'm so horribly frustrated about and considering on dropping alltogether or redoing from scratch.

But even if you dont know that or arent familiar with the character or its story, you can enjoy this, particularly if you're fan of s&m/dom-sub/slavery scenarios or something. I'll shut up now

CRITIQUE IS FINE AND WELCOME PLX", "writing": "The collar upon my neck feels stiff and heavy. The leathery strap worn down to an almost surreal smoothness, yet it still feels as hard and merciless as it felt in the very first minute it was wrapped around me. The fur beneath it is matted, broken and lifeless. Much like it’s owner.\n\nI just woke up, but I hesitate to as so much open my eyes and become aware of reality yet again. Sleep, blood and resigned defeat is what my mouth tastes like, same as every other day. \n\nSome indistinguishable yet painfully loud thud echoes in the halls outside. Something routinely and not unexpected, yes, but nevertheless frightening. All loud noises became frightening. Everything became frightening. Fear became a constant. Pain became routine. Agony became expected, and ultimately, accepted.\n\nFootsteps. I hesitate, but eventually, my eyes dart open, irises pulsing at the pace of my gradually increasing heartbeat. It’s pretty much a knee-jerk reaction at this point, result of years and years of extensive… “conditioning”.\n\nThe collar feels tighter around my mistreated neck, as if a metaphorical reminder of my current condition and role in this god forsaken life. Keys rattling. I can feel my jugular pushing against the darkened hide with every pump within my scarred ribcage. \n\nBy now I am nothing but clay. A battered and bruised puppet hanging by barbed strings at the whims of a wicked puppeteer. My condition as an individual or sentient being is completely nil, I am reduced to a piece of property, whose purpose is to only be a tool, a device (ab)used by someone on their own prospects. On her own prospects. On her own plans.\n\nThe mere thought of the unfortunately too familiar icy cold pale blue irises is more than enough to send my pulse into a frenzy. Embodiment of wickedness would be far too lenient of an adjective. The beauty in white and blue. As glistening and awesome as a silver claymore of the finest smithing. Just as sharp, twice as dangerous, and thrice as deadly.\n\nDespite many of the claims uttered, yelled, whispered and cooed from as close as brushing the very fur within my ears and as afar as an entire palace is wide, she seemed to have no actual desire to kill me. \n\nLiterally speaking, anyway. For there is more than one kind of death, and I am sure to have experienced many of them by now.\n\nBut no. She does not want me dead. At least not completely. It is of much more interest to her to keep me breathing and sentient at least, lest she lose the shivering, the grunts, the yells and yelps, the blood drips and the sweat drops, the whines, the moans, the spasms, the jerking, the blood-curling shrieks or the hysterical clawing for dear life hanging on a withered, haggard piece of blood-soaked string. \n\nNo…\n\nIt is of too much value for her. \n\nShe feeds off of it. One can see it in her eye. One can hear it in her breathing. One can smell it in her scent. \n\nShe delights in every ruptured piece of skin, every pulled hair, every tender bruise, every red stain, every pulled muscle, every labored breath, every shattered bone, every cry, and every tear. \n\nThe uncertainty and mind wrecking existence where my surroundings may be within her loving embrace, buried in a sea of silk, smothering passion and the smell of roses in one second, or thrown against a cold stone wall, filth and dirt covering every inch of my body and chocking in my own blood in the next. It does not matter, as long as her urges, whichever they may be, are fulfilled, and I live to be of use another day.\n\nIt does not matter, as I have grown “conditioned”. Grown to feel conditioned.\n\nMy body is nothing but clay, nothing but a fragile looking yet somehow sturdy enough canvas to endure whichever art this artist finds suitable to create upon me, no matter how devoid of any meaning. No matter how, such as the canvas itself, devoid of any soul.\n\n Devoid of any independence or arbitrary thought.\n\nDevoid of any self-sufficiency, as much as it pains me to admit it. Such environment has crippled me. Such environment has conditioned me to fear pain as much as thinking of pain as something routine. Conditioned me to know no other reality. Conditioned me to fear this one, and being terrified of any other.\n\nIt does not matter. The door slams shut and I find myself realizing all the tastes in my mouth have been overwhelmed by just one. Blood would be my guess, as I am lying in a pool of, and find myself covered in it. I lie in a neither asleep neither awake mindset for god only knows how long until my excuse for a breather is once again interrupted. \n\nIt’s hard to explain. I’m just “conditioned” I guess. I’ve grown into it.\n\nI’ve grown into being conditioned.\n\nGrown into being conditioned to be accustomed to expect acceptance of such things. \n\nGrown to be accepting of being a thing.\n\n", "writing_bbcode_parsed": "The collar upon my neck feels stiff and heavy. The leathery strap worn down to an almost surreal smoothness, yet it still feels as hard and merciless as it felt in the very first minute it was wrapped around me. The fur beneath it is matted, broken and lifeless. Much like it’s owner.

I just woke up, but I hesitate to as so much open my eyes and become aware of reality yet again. Sleep, blood and resigned defeat is what my mouth tastes like, same as every other day.

Some indistinguishable yet painfully loud thud echoes in the halls outside.  Something routinely and not unexpected, yes, but nevertheless frightening. All loud noises became frightening. Everything became frightening.  Fear became a constant. Pain became routine. Agony became expected, and ultimately, accepted.

Footsteps. I hesitate, but eventually, my eyes dart open, irises pulsing at the pace of my gradually increasing heartbeat. It’s pretty much a knee-jerk reaction at this point, result of years and years of extensive…  “conditioning”.

The collar feels tighter around my mistreated neck, as if a metaphorical reminder of my current condition and role in this god forsaken life. Keys rattling. I can feel my jugular pushing against the darkened hide with every pump within my scarred ribcage.

By now I am nothing but clay. A battered and bruised puppet hanging by barbed strings at the whims of a wicked puppeteer. My condition as an individual  or sentient being is completely nil,  I am reduced to a piece of property, whose purpose is to only be a tool, a device (ab)used by someone on their own prospects. On her own prospects. On her own plans.

The mere thought of the unfortunately too familiar icy cold pale blue irises is more than enough to send my pulse into a frenzy. Embodiment of wickedness would be far too lenient of an adjective. The beauty in white and blue. As glistening and awesome as a silver claymore of the finest smithing. Just as sharp, twice as dangerous, and thrice as deadly.

Despite many of the claims uttered, yelled, whispered and cooed from as close as brushing the very fur within my ears and as afar as an entire palace is wide, she seemed to have no actual desire to kill me.

Literally speaking, anyway. For there is more than one kind of death, and I am sure to have experienced many of them by now.

But no. She does not want me dead. At least not completely. It is of much more interest to her to keep me breathing and sentient at least, lest she lose the shivering, the grunts, the yells and yelps, the blood drips and the sweat drops, the whines, the moans, the spasms, the jerking, the blood-curling shrieks or the hysterical clawing for dear life hanging on a withered, haggard piece of blood-soaked string.

No…

It is of too much value for her.

She feeds off of it.  One can see it in her eye. One can hear it in her breathing. One can smell it in her scent.

She delights in every ruptured piece of skin, every pulled hair, every tender bruise, every red stain, every pulled muscle, every labored breath, every shattered bone, every cry, and every tear.  

The uncertainty and mind wrecking existence where  my surroundings may be within her loving embrace, buried in a sea of silk, smothering passion and the smell of roses in one second, or thrown against a cold stone wall, filth and dirt covering every inch of my body and chocking in my own blood in the next. It does not matter, as long as her urges, whichever they may be, are fulfilled, and I live to be of use another day.

It does not matter, as I have grown “conditioned”.  Grown to feel conditioned.

My body is nothing but clay, nothing but a fragile looking yet somehow sturdy enough canvas to endure whichever art this artist finds suitable to create upon me, no matter how devoid of any meaning. No matter how, such as the canvas itself, devoid of any soul.

 Devoid of any independence or arbitrary thought.

Devoid of any self-sufficiency, as much as it pains me to admit it. Such environment has crippled me. Such environment has conditioned me to fear pain as much as thinking of pain as something routine. Conditioned me to know no other reality. Conditioned me to fear this one, and being terrified of any other.

It does not matter. The door slams shut and I find myself realizing all the tastes in my mouth have been overwhelmed by just one. Blood would be my guess, as I am lying in a pool of, and find myself covered in it. I lie in a neither asleep neither awake mindset for god only knows how long until my excuse for a breather is once again interrupted.

It’s hard to explain. I’m just “conditioned” I guess. I’ve grown into it.

I’ve grown into being conditioned.

Grown into being conditioned to be accustomed to expect acceptance of such things.

Grown to be accepting of being a thing.

", "pools_count": 0, "title": "Posession Revisited", "deleted": "f", "public": "t", "mimetype": "application/msword", "pagecount": "1", "rating_id": "1", "rating_name": "Mature", "ratings": [ { "content_tag_id": "2", "name": "Nudity", "description": "Nonsexual nudity exposing breasts or genitals (must not show arousal)", "rating_id": "1" } ], "submission_type_id": "12", "type_name": "Writing - Document", "guest_block": "f", "friends_only": "f", "comments_count": "0", "views": "63" }