Just thinking a little....

It seems that I do a lot of thinking this time of year. As Master's and my anniversary approaches, I find myself reflecting on my past and how I came to this role. My mind tends to wander every so often to my training. I have been very candid about my training in the past, even detailing the 8 weeks I spent learning the craft and art of being a slave. There are things in my past, things that happened during the training that I can't unlock, that I can't reach, no matter how hard I try. But, each time I do think about the past and the training, more and more details come to mind, becoming clearer in my memory.

The ways I was trained, the methods used, are used to train many old guard slaves, even if we do not realize we are old guard at the time of the training. Things were done to me that have not been done since. But each and every thing had a reason. At first, I remember questioning why? Why was this being done to me? Why was I being treated this way? I questioned the feelings of the person who put me in that situation. The biggest question going through my mind was why?

During the two hours a night when I was beaten to a literal bloody pulp, I asked why. During the time I was chained, open and exposed, I asked myself why. During the times I was simply thrown in a cage and ignored for entire afternoons, I asked why. When I was being sent into sub space over and over again, I asked why.

I was pushed to the brink of what I could handle daily, I was hit, punched, kicked, shocked, slapped, whipped, and tormented. I was impaled on fucking machines for hours at a time, I was chained to a sybian for a full day while being whipped, I was reduced to a pile of babbling, crying, snot, sweat, and blood covered nothingness.

When I finally figured out the reason for the torment, things went easier for me. I was left without the ability to use the restroom, and when I asked to go, I was taken to a pen outside on a leash, on hands and knees, to go where the pets go, and chained to a fence to be flogged and whipped when I didn't.

I was forced into deep sub space over and over, only to not remember the day after. I was given very little to eat, only enough to keep myself alive, but nothing more, to eat with my fingers, naked and alone, in the dark, chained by the neck to a hitching post if I behaved that day, of chained in a cage, my neck only inches from the ground, if I did not behave. If I had been especially bratty or disrespectful or insipid, I was locked in a stockade, the fucking machine going, while being fed by someone else, food only being put into my mouth when the whip cracked against my ass and my mouth opened to scream.

I had canes broken over my ass daily, and was beaten even ore for breaking the canes, switches were used on my shoulders until they were red and bloody, bull whips kissed my skin over and over, a carpet beater was used on my ass and thighs. And then, there were the nightly beatings that lasted for two hours a night.

I still can't fully access everything that went on during those weeks. I don't know if I ever will.