Since I understood myself as a person, my younger brother was mine. We were three children, Jack, the eldest, was five years older than me, and Charlie was the youngest, two years younger than me, but from the moment he was born, I can say that he was attached to me by a collar and a leash; he was mine.
My parents had no patience or time for us. They worked, drank, went out, and argued a lot. I could see that we still had some value for them, Jack and me, but Charlie was a mistake, an unpleasant accident, and nobody cared about him. I think I was the only one who paid attention to him, but from the start, I felt he was born for me to serve me, and he seemed to agree with me.
As soon as he started to crawl, I put a leash on him and defined him as my puppy. He accepted the leash and loved being pulled around the house by his neck.
I don't even remember if he or I got a dog costume as a gift. But when he was home, he loved to be in that dog costume, with leash and collar all the time, like my pet dog, mine alone.
He grew up without leaving that role; when we were in the square near the house, he always got on all fours, with me pulling him by the collar.
When I played with the other boys in the neighborhood, he joined in the games by being my dog. We'd throw sticks for him to catch in his mouth, and my friends and I would walk around the neighborhood with him on all fours beside me.
Continued on: https://bdsmmaledrawings.blogspot.com/2023/02/my-little-brother-my-pet-second-part-of.html
the father looks like a slave.
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