Transcript: How to best to overcome a mind? When once can entrance with a look, it is easy to become arrogant and make the amateur's mistake to think you can subjugate every will by sheer brute force.
I had been exiled from my community when it was discovered I possessed The Eye, a trait the serpents had gone to great lengths to reassure everyone had been stamped out in the ancient uprising that had toppled the empire The Eye helped build. Yet, even reduced to stealing food from a farm, my younger self thought he could just glance around and make everyone fall to their knees. It had worked that way for the cowgirl I had encountered in the farmhouse, a teenager only a few years younger than I was. It was NOT working on the woman aiming a shotgun at my face!
Diana allowed herself the luxury of a long sigh as she looked over the numbers. The mom-and-pop grocery stores were being swallowed up by chain stores. Fewer buyers meant less leverage for sellers to demand better prices. Now, Diana had to figure out how to get the same amount of harvesting done while hiring fewer workers. Here in the privacy of her office she could let herself fret, but not out there in front of Mora. Diana had always said that life never throws at you more than you can handle, so out there she could show nothing but resolute confidence that she could guide the farm through these stormy waters. She believed that strong daughters came from strong mothers. If Diana wanted Mora to heed her words, she had best live those words herself! Ah Mora; as if her worries about the farm were not enough. The girl was a handful, but Diana supposed she had only herself to blame for that. In addition to her daughter's usual headstrong antics, she had started asking about her father and acting out again. The platitudes that had put Mora off as a child weren't working now. It seemed that all she did lately was worry about one thing or-wait, what was that? It sounded like Mora was talking to someone. Her friend Alej had gone home hours ago, besides, the other voice sounded male. Diana quietly crept out of her office and down the hall. Peering around the corner she was treated to the sight of a serpent in filthy clothes looming over her daughter as she knelt on the floor. Mora's blouse was already on the floor and she was reaching behind herself to unhook her bra...
I had the woman in my gaze; she wasn't pulling the trigger but she wasn't lowering the gun either. This was a mother protecting her child! I couldn't keep up this level of concentration forever, and I had a feeling that when my concentration wavered my head was going to be red mist! I considered the absence of any husband home to charge to the rescue of his family despite the late hour, the state of the farm, and made a few educated guesses. I kept my eyes locked on hers, but instead of continuing to demand she drop her weapon, I expressed my sympathy...
Lower the gun? Not dammed likely! The stranger had blathered a bunch of nonsense at her as if that was going to stop her from.. from... Something was wrong, it was hard to focus, but one fact shone like a beacon in the fog: she had to protect her daughter!! Even though she found herself unable to look away from the intruder, she was still able to see Mora out of the corner of her eye. But.. why was Mora half-naked and pulling down her pants? Was Mora doing this sort of thing with that boy that she didn't realize Diana knew about? Sometimes she just wanted to throw up her hands and let the girl learn her lessons the hard way. No!! Mora might be a pain in the ass sometimes, but she loved her and wouldn't let anything harm her! So why was Diana hesitating to.. do.. something...? It was so hard to do anything! Everything was so hard lately. Diana wished her husband were here in instead of . Wait, what HAD happened to her Diana gave herself a mental shake, she felt a few dissipating wisps of longing and heartache but couldn't identify their source. It didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was the threat this scaly creep posed to her ! Diana had that odd sensation again, of anxiety and rage melting away without knowing why she was feeling these things. Why was she holding her shotgun so tightly? She had a vague notion that she had brought it out because someone needed protecting. Was it that girl? In Diana's peripheral vision she saw that the girl had finished peeling off her panties and had resumed her kneeling pose, holding the panties out to her owner like a supplicant with an offering. Diana had no idea who the girl was, so why would she be protecting her? Did she bring out the gun to defend herself? The only ones here were that strange girl and Diana's Master. Diana kept looking into those yellow eyes, feeling herself floating in the warm golden light high above any care or worry. Put down the gun. Had someone said that or had she thought that? It didn't matter. She put down the gun.
It was the next night and I was hungry. I dropped a coin into the payphone outside the gas station and dialed Diana's number. I admit my hand was shaking a little, this was the first time I tried anything this complex. "Hello?" It was Diana who had picked up! Even late at night, there was warmth in her voice as though she was being phoned by a good friend, despite the fact that she had no idea who it was." Ah.. What Does Mommy, no wait.. dammit!" "Excuse me?" Clamping down on my nerves proved to be as much an act of will as using The Eye. I forced my voice to be level, "What Does Mom Need To Be Free?" There was a sigh on the other end of the line, the sound of all stress being released. "A collar around my neck and a hand to hold my leash." I remember how hard my heart was beating as I continued, "Tell me what you remember of last night." "A slave only remembers Master's commands." "Tell me what those commands were." "Find the girl and tell her, 'Time to put the baby to bed.' Remember the box under my bed, pick one of the items inside, and exchange my clothes for it. Unlock the front door of the house and await further commands."-- arrived and opened the farmhouse door to find Diana standing there, one of the fruits of her forgotten shopping trip draped around her lush form. I found the daughter standing by the kitchen counter, her chin on her chest, fast asleep on her feet. I called in Diana as I lifted the napping girl's skirt and gave her ripe bottom a rough squeeze. I was being deliberately provocative, needed to be sure. "How do you feel about what I am doing?" It had been a question, not a command. Thus, no need to mar her bliss by remembering anything. "I feel fine."
This formed the pattern for weeks to come. It was as I said to her that first night, having freedom does not mean one is free. Quite the opposite, freedom means that you must make your own decisions and be responsible for the outcomes. All of a slave's decisions are made for her by her Master, therefore she is not responsible for anything she does. A slave does not need to remember anything about her past except what is necessary to fulfill her Master's commands. She certainly does not need to remember an absent husband or a tempestuous daughter. A slave's future is decided by her Master, so any concerns about the farm's continuing prosperity or anything else beyond the present moment need never enter her blissfully empty head. By becoming property she was free. She would wake up the next day with a false set of bland memories of the previous night, yet feeling as relaxed as if she had come back from vacation! won not because I had crushed her will, rather, she had been seduced by the freedom of slavery
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"Having freedom does not mean one is free. [...]"
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How to best to overcome a mind? When once can entrance with a look, it is easy to become arrogant and make the amateur's mistake to think you can subjugate every will by sheer brute force.
I had been exiled from my community when it was discovered I possessed The Eye, a trait the serpents had gone to great lengths to reassure everyone had been stamped out in the ancient uprising that had toppled the empire The Eye helped build. Yet, even reduced to stealing food from a farm, my younger self thought he could just glance around and make everyone fall to their knees. It had worked that way for the cowgirl I had encountered in the farmhouse, a teenager only a few years younger than I was. It was NOT working on the woman aiming a shotgun at my face!
Diana allowed herself the luxury of a long sigh as she looked over the numbers. The mom-and-pop grocery stores were being swallowed up by chain stores. Fewer buyers meant less leverage for sellers to demand better prices. Now, Diana had to figure out how to get the same amount of harvesting done while hiring fewer workers. Here in the privacy of her office she could let herself fret, but not out there in front of Mora. Diana had always said that life never throws at you more than you can handle, so out there she could show nothing but resolute confidence that she could guide the farm through these stormy waters. She believed that strong daughters came from strong mothers. If Diana wanted Mora to heed her words, she had best live those words herself! Ah Mora; as if her worries about the farm were not enough. The girl was a handful, but Diana supposed she had only herself to blame for that. In addition to her daughter's usual headstrong antics, she had started asking about her father and acting out again. The platitudes that had put Mora off as a child weren't working now. It seemed that all she did lately was worry about one thing or-wait, what was that? It sounded like Mora was talking to someone. Her friend Alej had gone home hours ago, besides, the other voice sounded male. Diana quietly crept out of her office and down the hall. Peering around the corner she was treated to the sight of a serpent in filthy clothes looming over her daughter as she knelt on the floor. Mora's blouse was already on the floor and she was reaching behind herself to unhook her bra...
I had the woman in my gaze; she wasn't pulling the trigger but she wasn't lowering the gun either. This was a mother protecting her child! I couldn't keep up this level of concentration forever, and I had a feeling that when my concentration wavered my head was going to be red mist! I considered the absence of any husband home to charge to the rescue of his family despite the late hour, the state of the farm, and made a few educated guesses. I kept my eyes locked on hers, but instead of continuing to demand she drop her weapon, I expressed my sympathy...
Lower the gun? Not dammed likely! The stranger had blathered a bunch of nonsense at her as if that was going to stop her from.. from... Something was wrong, it was hard to focus, but one fact shone like a beacon in the fog: she had to protect her daughter!! Even though she found herself unable to look away from the intruder, she was still able to see Mora out of the corner of her eye. But.. why was Mora half-naked and pulling down her pants? Was Mora doing this sort of thing with that boy that she didn't realize Diana knew about? Sometimes she just wanted to throw up her hands and let the girl learn her lessons the hard way. No!! Mora might be a pain in the ass sometimes, but she loved her and wouldn't let anything harm her! So why was Diana hesitating to.. do.. something...? It was so hard to do anything! Everything was so hard lately. Diana wished her husband were here in instead of . Wait, what HAD happened to her Diana gave herself a mental shake, she felt a few dissipating wisps of longing and heartache but couldn't identify their source. It didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was the threat this scaly creep posed to her ! Diana had that odd sensation again, of anxiety and rage melting away without knowing why she was feeling these things. Why was she holding her shotgun so tightly? She had a vague notion that she had brought it out because someone needed protecting. Was it that girl? In Diana's peripheral vision she saw that the girl had finished peeling off her panties and had resumed her kneeling pose, holding the panties out to her owner like a supplicant with an offering. Diana had no idea who the girl was, so why would she be protecting her? Did she bring out the gun to defend herself? The only ones here were that strange girl and Diana's Master. Diana kept looking into those yellow eyes, feeling herself floating in the warm golden light high above any care or worry. Put down the gun. Had someone said that or had she thought that? It didn't matter. She put down the gun.
It was the next night and I was hungry. I dropped a coin into the payphone outside the gas station and dialed Diana's number. I admit my hand was shaking a little, this was the first time I tried anything this complex. "Hello?" It was Diana who had picked up! Even late at night, there was warmth in her voice as though she was being phoned by a good friend, despite the fact that she had no idea who it was." Ah.. What Does Mommy, no wait.. dammit!" "Excuse me?" Clamping down on my nerves proved to be as much an act of will as using The Eye. I forced my voice to be level, "What Does Mom Need To Be Free?" There was a sigh on the other end of the line, the sound of all stress being released. "A collar around my neck and a hand to hold my leash." I remember how hard my heart was beating as I continued, "Tell me what you remember of last night." "A slave only remembers Master's commands." "Tell me what those commands were." "Find the girl and tell her, 'Time to put the baby to bed.' Remember the box under my bed, pick one of the items inside, and exchange my clothes for it. Unlock the front door of the house and await further commands."-- arrived and opened the farmhouse door to find Diana standing there, one of the fruits of her forgotten shopping trip draped around her lush form. I found the daughter standing by the kitchen counter, her chin on her chest, fast asleep on her feet. I called in Diana as I lifted the napping girl's skirt and gave her ripe bottom a rough squeeze. I was being deliberately provocative, needed to be sure. "How do you feel about what I am doing?" It had been a question, not a command. Thus, no need to mar her bliss by remembering anything. "I feel fine."
This formed the pattern for weeks to come. It was as I said to her that first night, having freedom does not mean one is free. Quite the opposite, freedom means that you must make your own decisions and be responsible for the outcomes. All of a slave's decisions are made for her by her Master, therefore she is not responsible for anything she does. A slave does not need to remember anything about her past except what is necessary to fulfill her Master's commands. She certainly does not need to remember an absent husband or a tempestuous daughter. A slave's future is decided by her Master, so any concerns about the farm's continuing prosperity or anything else beyond the present moment need never enter her blissfully empty head. By becoming property she was free. She would wake up the next day with a false set of bland memories of the previous night, yet feeling as relaxed as if she had come back from vacation! won not because I had crushed her will, rather, she had been seduced by the freedom of slavery