Obsessive Control ( Under publishing contract )

Branding

Listen to Imagine Dragons: Follow you
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A whole day had gone by and I hadn't been able to get a wink of sleep, tossing and turning in my bed. Because my mind was too busy imagining various fantasies I'd like to perform on this new little dog.

Rising to my feet, running a hand through my hair, I grabbed a mask to hide my face. I had to get back to that room where I could vent the frustration I'd built up over the days.

I entered the room, and she was sitting in the cage, her head resting on her lap, not even looking up as I entered. I opened the door and forced her out.

- Don't expect me to be gentle with you.
In response, she spat in my face, her saliva landing directly on my mask, behind which I smiled. With a voracious fucking grin, I could no longer contain my excitement.

Clearly, she'd just handed me a perch from which to manhandle her.

Removing my mask, her eyes widened in surprise. It's true she hadn't seen it yet, I'm much desired for that face in front of her eyes. Right now, she should regret spitting on me.

- What, you regret spitting on me? Love has no place here. Don't think you're in a romance, everything that happens here will be under my control, even your pathetic feelings, which I'll gladly reduce to nothing.
I run a hand through my hair, looking at her neck, there were still the marks of my fingers, darker spots on her skin proved it. Without wasting any more time, I grab her by the hair.

She starts to struggle, but it's a futile attempt, I'm much bigger than she is, and her blows are like flicks against my torso.

I grabbed various fasteners on my way, this room looking like a torture chamber with so many objects stored in it, Ropes, Whips, Whips, Paddles, Swift, Rosary beads... And lots of other things I can't wait to try on her.

I forcefully sat her down and tied her to the chair, replacing myself in front of her once done.

- I was going to save this for later, but since you've been so insolent, I'm going to have to put you in your place. But before that, let me tell you a story.

- In different ages, Man has fought over wealth and territory, and there have been many wars just because they disagreed about who belonged to whom.

I moved around the room, picking up materials and moving closer to the fire in the gas stove, whose door I opened.

- Of course, it was difficult to know who was right or wrong about what was owed to them. Even when it came to other human beings, war slaves to be precise. One day, after so much killing, a man who'd had enough of seeing so much violence decided to create an object.

All you had to do was hammer the initials of ownership into this object. Whether rich or poor, it was possible to get one. Next, the object had to be heated long enough to leave behind an imprint, a mark that would last over time.

- Do you want to know what we call this object, little puppy?

She watched my every move. Leaving the object to warm up, I walked over to a record player and slid my fingers over the different sleeves.

I placed the disc, then the diamond, and the music began to play with an intoxicating sound.

- I'll try to do it properly, but if you move, I'll have to start again.

"Heart attacks every night
Oh you know it's not right
I will follow you way down wherever you may go
I'll follow you way down to your deepest low".

I grabbed the red iron and stuck it to the skin of his neck, humming along.

"Heart attacks every night
Oh you know it's not right
I will follow you way down wherever you may go
I'll follow you way down to your deepest low".

Her cries filled the room, she'd just moved, it was unreadable.

- It's annoying little puppy, you've moved, I'll have to start again!