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- COMMISSION -
I remember very little about my life before I was enslaved. Fragments and blurry colours are all that come to me at random intervals.
The faces of my parents and siblings have been melted from memory. Trying to think of them only recalls tall, featureless beings covered in golden fur.
I've tried to reminisce about our lives before the war, before insanity and greed assaulted our planet... but there's nothing there. I see my featureless family painted in red. A square building, our house perhaps, burning.
I leave my body, float above it helplessly, watching myself sit on my knees in deepest catatonia.
I'd wake up the next day to the smell of smoke and deafening silence.
The trauma of the pillage reduced my mental state to only the basic instincts as I wandered through the smouldering ruin of our town.
I believe I spent several days trawling through the burning remains of my neighbourhood, looking for any sign of life other than my own. Of course I found nothing, no evidence or trace of a living being. I was the sole occupant of a ghost town.
Ours was a peaceful civilisation. Enjoying the benefits of rural living. Making use of what we had, nothing more. There was no possible way for our people to defend ourselves when they invaded. I doubt the battle lasted more than a few hours, if that.
To this day I wonder why I wasn't taken with the rest of my people. Perhaps the invaders thought me already dead and didn't want to burden themselves with the load.
Either way I was spared... or punished from being with my family, left to rot on an abandoned planet.
It was another few weeks before a passing pirate patrol picked me up. The sole survivor of a war? That's a valuable piece of property right there, I'd become a collector's item for the first time in my life.
Too weak and thirsty to resist my capture, I spent another couple of days in a prison cell aboard the pirate's ship until finally I was sold to a slave market.
My golden fur and the mystery of my survival drove up interest and allowed the market owner to invent ever elaborate tales regarding my rescue and how I'd come to survive my encounter.
Eventually I had overheard some members of the public calling it the "Purge of Dulco" - a foreign word for my home planet.
There was no news of any other survivors, or indeed the culprits behind the presumed massacre. Evidently I was the lone survivor of my people.
For a brief time I had a nickname "Riley the Survivor" - not entirely creative I know, but it suited me, honestly.
My name was all I was willing to give as I sat inside my cage, on display for gawking rich folk that had the resources necessary to buy and sell living beings. It flew in the face of what I had grown up with.
Like I said, ours was a rural, primitive culture. We did not abuse the resources naturally available to us. We gave back what we took and were thankful for it. To see such wanton consumerism at that marketplace made me sick. Those people did not appreciate what they had. For them, enough was never enough.
I was bought and loaned many times during my time at that horrible place. My young form was appealing for various reasons and every so often I would find myself thrust into the possessive arms of my new master or mistress.
The time I spent with my owners would never last. From the moment I arrived at my temporary new home, I would be the biggest pain and the most inconvenient slave my owners had ever purchased.
I rebelled constantly and without mercy. Sometimes I'd play along, allowing my owners to think that at last I had come around, only to fly off the handle once again.
Within a few weeks I would be returned and stuffed back into my cage I would go, once more on display.
I was content to raise as much hell as possible for my would-be masters and mistresses. If that was my lot in life then so be it, I would do so until it got me killed.
That perspective changed when I was purchased by very unique couple.
New character time!
First off, let me point out that poor ol' Riley here exists PURELY to be put into kinky and distressing scenarios.
He was featured in a previous upload, but I didn't get the chance to really explain his motives and history.
I realised that I needed someone like the pup to essentially feed to the more outlandish ideas that I might have. He'll be tortured, embarrassed and abused and in some cases even - gasp! - killed!
His cute, innocent appearance is a specific design to make the viewer feel empathy towards him when he goes through the various ringers.
I tried to convey this idea with a story that was incredibly gritty... that accompanied a rather happy, bright image. The juxtaposition hopefully worked, I'm not sure, maybe it would be best to stick to one spectrum of emotion and not try to be too fancy!
Riley is a Golden Retriever that has had an incredibly hard life.
It's such a shame that he was created by me, someone that has no qualms about making it a whole lot worse.
Enjoy!
Artwork ©
Riley ©
I remember very little about my life before I was enslaved. Fragments and blurry colours are all that come to me at random intervals.
The faces of my parents and siblings have been melted from memory. Trying to think of them only recalls tall, featureless beings covered in golden fur.
I've tried to reminisce about our lives before the war, before insanity and greed assaulted our planet... but there's nothing there. I see my featureless family painted in red. A square building, our house perhaps, burning.
I leave my body, float above it helplessly, watching myself sit on my knees in deepest catatonia.
I'd wake up the next day to the smell of smoke and deafening silence.
The trauma of the pillage reduced my mental state to only the basic instincts as I wandered through the smouldering ruin of our town.
I believe I spent several days trawling through the burning remains of my neighbourhood, looking for any sign of life other than my own. Of course I found nothing, no evidence or trace of a living being. I was the sole occupant of a ghost town.
Ours was a peaceful civilisation. Enjoying the benefits of rural living. Making use of what we had, nothing more. There was no possible way for our people to defend ourselves when they invaded. I doubt the battle lasted more than a few hours, if that.
To this day I wonder why I wasn't taken with the rest of my people. Perhaps the invaders thought me already dead and didn't want to burden themselves with the load.
Either way I was spared... or punished from being with my family, left to rot on an abandoned planet.
It was another few weeks before a passing pirate patrol picked me up. The sole survivor of a war? That's a valuable piece of property right there, I'd become a collector's item for the first time in my life.
Too weak and thirsty to resist my capture, I spent another couple of days in a prison cell aboard the pirate's ship until finally I was sold to a slave market.
My golden fur and the mystery of my survival drove up interest and allowed the market owner to invent ever elaborate tales regarding my rescue and how I'd come to survive my encounter.
Eventually I had overheard some members of the public calling it the "Purge of Dulco" - a foreign word for my home planet.
There was no news of any other survivors, or indeed the culprits behind the presumed massacre. Evidently I was the lone survivor of my people.
For a brief time I had a nickname "Riley the Survivor" - not entirely creative I know, but it suited me, honestly.
My name was all I was willing to give as I sat inside my cage, on display for gawking rich folk that had the resources necessary to buy and sell living beings. It flew in the face of what I had grown up with.
Like I said, ours was a rural, primitive culture. We did not abuse the resources naturally available to us. We gave back what we took and were thankful for it. To see such wanton consumerism at that marketplace made me sick. Those people did not appreciate what they had. For them, enough was never enough.
I was bought and loaned many times during my time at that horrible place. My young form was appealing for various reasons and every so often I would find myself thrust into the possessive arms of my new master or mistress.
The time I spent with my owners would never last. From the moment I arrived at my temporary new home, I would be the biggest pain and the most inconvenient slave my owners had ever purchased.
I rebelled constantly and without mercy. Sometimes I'd play along, allowing my owners to think that at last I had come around, only to fly off the handle once again.
Within a few weeks I would be returned and stuffed back into my cage I would go, once more on display.
I was content to raise as much hell as possible for my would-be masters and mistresses. If that was my lot in life then so be it, I would do so until it got me killed.
That perspective changed when I was purchased by very unique couple.
New character time!
First off, let me point out that poor ol' Riley here exists PURELY to be put into kinky and distressing scenarios.
He was featured in a previous upload, but I didn't get the chance to really explain his motives and history.
I realised that I needed someone like the pup to essentially feed to the more outlandish ideas that I might have. He'll be tortured, embarrassed and abused and in some cases even - gasp! - killed!
His cute, innocent appearance is a specific design to make the viewer feel empathy towards him when he goes through the various ringers.
I tried to convey this idea with a story that was incredibly gritty... that accompanied a rather happy, bright image. The juxtaposition hopefully worked, I'm not sure, maybe it would be best to stick to one spectrum of emotion and not try to be too fancy!
Riley is a Golden Retriever that has had an incredibly hard life.
It's such a shame that he was created by me, someone that has no qualms about making it a whole lot worse.
Enjoy!
Artwork ©
Riley ©
Category Artwork (Digital) / All
Species Dog (Other)
Size 999 x 1200px
File Size 504.3 kB
Listed in Folders
Lovely read, bro! I think it suits Riley very well, and setting it up with such a light-hearted picture adds the right amount of opposites attract, I think. I do feel bad for the poor pup, but it's nice to know his perspective changed when he was bought...even if it was safer in the cage xD
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