How, in fact, do you do it? How do you un-train a slave? Is it like deprogramming someone who has been brainwashed by a cult? Three-days-a-week therapy to wipe away the effects of well-meaning but misguided parents?
I still twitch when I feed Marko. I carry his food down to the basement family room. To the dungeon. I sit on the floor while he eats, I sit on the floor by the maybe-or-maybe-not Eames chair. I watch him eat. And I twitch.
I sit on the floor, and I watch my sweet nervous cat eat, and I feel him there. The pervert who played at being my master. The sweet philosopher who was such a comfortable companion. I sit, and it starts. I am helpless. Helpless against the swelling and dripping of my cunt. And helpless against the memories.
Did Pavlov ever work on this? Did Pavlov ever try to release his dogs from the urge to salivate at the sound of the bell?
Do I want to be set free? Let my body cling a little longer. Let it pretend that I am still owned.
There will be enough time for wandering lost in unwelcome freedom.