zinaida

minors DNI. 18+ NSFW blog. i post weird stuff. she/her

[ziiiiina]

in my fantasies i'm sort of like a predator (in the nature sense) but instead of killing and eating my prey i just want to keep them locked away and play with and take care of them

okay there may be killing and eating involved at some point now that i think about it

[ziiiiina]

feeding you TWICE a day?? keeping the basement above a whole FIFTY degrees during winter?? in THIS economy?????

[ziiiiina]

if u allow your pet to wear clothes make sure to keep it in flip flops and a long skirt (both preferably in a high visibility color) so it can't run away

[ziiiiina]

i initially wrote this for somebody and sent it to them after their posts inspired a particularly nice little fantasy that i needed to get out of my system. it is not refined at all and may be difficult to follow. i hope you enjoy it.

___________________________________________

one day the pet's captor brings it to the front door, removes the chain-attached cuff from its ankle and opens the door. there is absolutely nothing stopping it from leaving. its owner has informed it that there will be no repercussions or attempts to stop it if it does choose to leave. owner's voice is in the tone they use when they are absolutely dead serious. this is not a trick, as much as a truly pathetic broken little corner of the pet's mind wants it to be.

it considers just walking or even running out the door and down the street and flagging down the nearest vehicle. it can imagine what the rest of the day would look like. its home being surrounded and entered and taped off by dozens and hundreds of police officers and state and federal investigators and voyeuristic journalists. its owner, who treated it so terribly and graciously and cruelly and kindly and painfully and lovingly and coldly and warmly, being put in handcuffs and hauled off to a horrible little concrete box and paraded around in front of snarling crowds and on screens across the whole entire world.

the pet doesn't want this. for all the bruises and scars and agonized nights spent curled up and shaking like a leaf, it doesn't want owner to be put through all this. it doesn't want to throw the one who made it whole into the jaws of a system meant to tear them to little pieces. and then, selfishly, like the greedy little animal it is, it begins to ponder what this would mean for itself.

no more sleepy cozy nights and mornings. no more cuddles and hugs and simple physical comforts. a life of wage labor and commuting and filing taxes again. under owner, the worst that happened when it forgot or failed to fulfill its obligations was a few hours of howling in agony and terror before receiving the most tender aftercare and assurances that everything being done to it is for its own good. the little world created for it by its captor, its tormentor, was kinder and more understanding and benevolent than the "free" world it was ripped from.

without owner life would be so very uncertain and unstable. owner could keep it safe just as well as they could hurt it. owner could provide for it just as well as they could take everything from it. before being claimed, the pet struggled with relationships. it worried that it would do something wrong or that it was not good enough or that everything would simply fall apart. owner made their rules and expectations just as clear as the fact that they would never ever let their property leave. and then its mind returns to the open door standing in front of it and the increasingly strange feeling of having an uncuffed ankle. did owner lie? does owner, in all their divine perfection, even possess the ability to tell a lie?

it freezes and then begins to sob and move towards the direction of the source of all the comfort it knows and it falls to its shaking knees and begs to know why this is happening to it. and a soft gentle hand extends out and gives its collar a tug and tilts its face up and its eyes catch the smuggest look it has ever seen in its entire life. it stops trying to understand and without much of a thought begins clinging to owner's leg. its cheek nuzzles up against a thigh and the tears start soaking into the fabric. it hopes owner won't be upset with it if it messes up their clothes. owner moves to close the door so people, actual people, won't see or hear what's going on. it follows on its knees so it doesn't have to stop being in contact with owner. something shifts inside its mind as owner reacts to its rejection of the only real opportunity it ever had to escape.

the pet draws a few deep breaths and musters up the courage to make the most pathetic request of its pathetic life. it asks owner to put the chain back around its ankle. it wants to know that owner isn't getting rid of it. as the pet feels the sensation of the cuff being secured around its ankle, an indescribably wonderful feeling emanates from its heart.

its owner, its captor, the one who took everything down to its body and mind from it, will never let it go.

[misscaptor]

Come on, sweet thing. You know the muzzle is good for you. We do have neighbors, and I wouldn’t want them getting the wrong idea and sending someone to take you away from me. Oh hey now, don’t give me that look. You don’t want to be taken away either. I know you’re acting up right now, but what would you even do if you got out on your own?

It’s been… months, probably, since you’ve chosen what you eat for a meal, I don’t think you’d be able to think of three of them a day anymore. It’s been even longer than that since you’ve chosen your own clothes. I can’t remember the last time you washed your own hair. If I gave you my phone to call for a rescue, would you know how to use it or would you stare at it empty-eyed, like the animal I’ve turned you into? You should be grateful I do so much for you.

Not to mention all that horrible human life stuff I’ve let you get out of. Do you remember resumes? Job hunting? Rent? Do you even know how much the mortgage on this house is? I mean, honestly, did you even know that I own the house that I keep you in? I’d never throw in your face how much I spend, thats my responsibility as your captor, but do you consider how little you have to think about? You don’t wanna be thrown back to the wolves. It would just crush a helpless little thing like you.

What’s so good out there, pet? You eat from my hand, and I feed you well. You wear nice clothes I picked out just for you and I dress you up every day. The bed in your cage is soft and comfortable. You get to spend most of your day drawing or making things or kneeling by my desk while I work. You used to complain about never reading and now you go through the books I give you so quickly, I worry the library will get suspicious. Isn’t this how you’re meant to live? Isn’t this what’s good for you?

If I take off your muzzle, will you stop screaming to be let go? I can’t let you go. I have to take care of you

[ijwt-art]

All tuckered out

[ziiiiina]

relationship goals

[ziiiiina]

u dont really love a girl if you dont threaten her with power tools and loaded firearms every once in a while