It's called PuppyClicker, it's simple, ad free and free (but you can support me on patreon).

The puppy downloads the app on Desktop or Android (or both), shares his or her friend code with you, and you login on Web or Android and send clicks.

The clicks on android use push notification service, so should be instant clicker noise even when app closed. On desktop it's fast too and lives in the tray.

The idea is to let you send a training click while playing, chatting, etc and that it can come any time.

Let me know what you think and if you encounter any bugs!

If you share your code publicly, anyone who uses it can see the nickname you set. You can roll your friend code in settings so that you dont get added by more people lol -- not trying to make a social network here xD

https://boundfire.com/puppyclicker

I was conditioned over many, many months, in ways that were, at the time, all the time, beautiful. This is a love letter to other conditioned subs who have been abandoned, and a warning to dominants.

I'm still obviously in this, so I am looking for advice too, on what to do next. ❤️

--

"We have to be careful. We are playing with tools of abuse."

My Sir said this to me early on, before the dynamic was formal, and it was also the thing that brought down all my walls. They knew what this, handled poorly, would cost me -- and they were going to be cautious. These are weapons, they can carve me, but they can also cut me, and the sharper the weapon, the finer the carve, but the worse the cut.

>CONTEXT // I was a partner and collared sub of a pro. I was their personal sub for over a year. Don't ask who they are, I won't tell you. This isn't about them, this is about you, and me. *They don't go to this school anyway.*
I didn't want to write this, because my biggest fear is if they read this, they will never come back and give me the release from the ownership I deserve, I need, I'm owed.
As you can tell, I'm still in this, but I'm far enough out that I want to write this.

The basis of it was ongoing conditioning that this person was consistently more intelligent and insightful than I was. Basic NLP / covert conditioning stuff, but with enough regularity that I genuinely believed it, and still do. This wore down my ability to question within the dynamic, which was great, and I loved it.

I don't believe their goal was to harm my ability to consent, but i noticed it was doing so early on and I set in place a consent document for the dynamic, laying out the maximum's I would consent to no matter how we progressed.

>██████'s Blanket Consent
- Blanket consent, if not mentioned here, you have consent
- You can brainwash me and condition me as far as you want to. Please make sure you don't make me useless without you.
- Sharing allowed
- No scat
- No blood letting and non-incidental period blood play
- You can pee on or in me.
- Ashtray allowed.
- If you share me, you also make consent decisions about that within these limits. I like being shared, share me thoughtfully
- Nothing that will materially impact my health or wealth negatively
- Nothing that aims to materially impact my intelligence negatively outside of scenes
- No blasphemy / religious play
- Nothing that will leave me ultimately dependant on you, again please don't make me useless without you.
- Nothing that limits my ability to breathe
- Consenting now to permanent marks in future, and even a tattoo. cannot be your name, but can reference you in some way

We progressed. We loved each other.

And so, on top of that conditioning, there was further conditioning on me that this person, who is so much smarter than me, knows what was right and good for me, and they only do things to me that I deserve.

>"You might not like it, but it's what you need, it's what you deserve. I only do what you need."

I consented to this, too. It was fun, scary, but each time they demonstrated that the claim was true –– which reinforced the fact that they only did things I deserved. I loved this so much. It felt so safe to be seen and handled with care by someone who knew me totally.

Until It didn't.

I still believe the conditioning, I am not free of it. I am freer of it than I was on day one, I look through my journal of the first week after the abandonment and it’s full of things that I understand to be false now. But I know I’m not free of this, I still believe in my core that there is some purpose to what has been done, and I need to find it, and that part of me fights to be seen often.

The Bottle

I was struggling with my water task – which was to drink 1.6L of water per day. A task I agreed to, consented to.

One sentence, “You have my bottle. Every time you drink from it, you drink from me”.

Oh, and what a pleasure it was to drink from them. My Owner, my love, the person I look up to, my collarer.

So I did. 1.6L almost everyday, always from the bottle. It was amazing, every sip was from them. It was a self-conditioning loop, just like the collar. I drank. I thought of them. I submitted, until all I drank was from them

The Collar

The collar was the final piece in the cage they had constructed around me. It was and is a beautiful cage. They weren't my jailer, but a puppy needs a home, and what a beautiful home they made. Adorned with love, affection, soft things, and Them.

"The lack of a collar around your neck is the collar. So when you are out, and you forget to put it on, and notice you're not wearing the collar, you will think of me, and through that, your collar is on."

Beautiful, amazing sentiment. With the impact of making me think of them every time I step outside. I'm reminded that their collar is on me, regardless of whether it was.

The Abandonment

It took 48 hours to go from "we make a good team.", "I feel very protective of you" and "love" to;

>Dear Lucy,
I am cancelling [our trip] and terminating our relationship. You are no longer owned by me. This is the last time you will speak down to me and project your own insecurities and trauma onto me

>I will remove myself from your card [..] You can donate the things I left behind to an op shop. Do not contact me on any platform or ask your friends to contact me on your behalf.

>I wish you all the best with your recovery.

>██████

Delivered in the register of pronouncements and commands. The Sir register.

I had an insecure moment two days prior -- while sick with my first big ME/CFS crash, but I don't know if I spoke down to them. Part of me wants to say, well, they said I did, so clearly I did. Another part of me, which has read the logs one hundred times, knows that's the conditioning. It doesn't matter; if they wanted to leave, they had the right to leave. But this is about the abandonment.

The message arrived at midnight. I was blocked everywhere you could possibly imagine. They meticulously created a situation in which they would not have to see what they did in their exit to their abandoned, collared, conditioned sub.

The Floor Dropped

I processed it, poorly, flipping between.

• Oh my God are they okay?
• Sir has inflicted a consequence, I deserve it. I should obey and not contact Sir.
• If I'm a good puppy, and I submit and obey, they will come back.
• This is what I deserve, it's part of my training, there's something here I can't see.
• Have they been kidnapped? Did someone else write this?
• They did something they didn't mean and I should wait till they come back.
• I deserve this. I deserve this. I deserve this.

None of these was that I might've been simply abandoned by someone I trusted, loved, cared for and felt safe with. I still can't access that properly.

The Conditioning Continues in the Aftermath

It took me an hour to remove my collar, physically.

I stopped drinking from the bottle. I didn't deserve to drink from it. I think I drunk some tea and some juice someone gave me, then I stopped drinking and eating entirely.

I didn't drink or eat for a long while, longer than safe.

Everytime I went outside, I found my psychological collar remaining attached.

Every time I went to put myself to bed, I thought of them as I had learned to. Remembered what they chose for me, and submitted to it, painfully.

I could not escape the grief, the ownership, or the pain.

There's a desire in me to submit. To submit to the conditioning, to keep the collar, to keep the rituals, to orient -- like I was trained, towards Sir. Even if they're not my Sir. To accept my punishment as ordained.

It's a fucking beautiful cage. And being in a cage is not that bad. It certainly doesn't hurt as much, now, as destroying the cage.

Writing this is a vote against the cage. I will need to vote again tomorrow, and the next day, and the next.

Me

The first thing I did, once I was out of the grief enough for it to stop colliding so hard with the conditioning and submission, was write down what had been built. The Bottle. The Collar. The Nightly Ritual. The Socks. The conditioning to receive without resistance. The conditioning to receive Sir's judgment as truth. While the architecture was unnamed, it operated invisibly. It had to be named.

But naming is not dismantling. What the list does do is give me a target, each item is a piece of conditioning I can now work on.

The architecture was built on top of things that already belonged to me, and part of the work is sorting which is which. Not everything they touched is theirs. I am still a puppy. I am still submissive. Those are mine, and they were mine before them.

Some of it I have to release, and I cannot do it alone. So there will be a ritual. People I love will be there. I will be collared by one of them there, and I will take the collar off a final time in front of them, and we will go through the rest of the architecture piece by piece, and what was made will be unmade in the presence of my chosen family.

I do not know when. I will know when I am ready.

In the meantime, Every day I make a small choice that goes against the conditioning. I drink water that is not from the bottle. Some nights, I can take my progesterone. None of these choices feels like freedom. Each one feels like a betrayal of someone I love, who I committed to.

But,

• I am a good puppy.
• I am my own puppy.
• Someone who discards my submission like that is not worthy of my submission.
• Someone who can discard someone they own is not worthy of the title of Owner.
• I am worthy of love that doesn't disappear.

You, dear reader

If you are reading this from inside the cage built for you; The pull to stay is not weakness. The conditioning worked. It was supposed to work, and the fact that it is still working is evidence of the craft, not of your failure. The second is that you can leave anyway. Slowly, badly, messily, with relapses. The cage does not have a single door through which you can leave. It has ten thousand small doors, and you open them one at a time, and some days you will go deeper in and close a few again, it's okay.

Dominants: The conditioning you build does not stop when you leave. You know this. You have to know this — it's the whole point of the work, that it persists between play, between visits, into the rest of their life. That persistence is the feature. It is also what makes leaving poorly into a dangerous weapon.

You don't get to discover at the end of the relationship that you don't feel like doing the closing work. The willingness to do the closing work is part of what you were consenting to when you started.

A clear ending from an Owner register is still possible. "I am ending our dynamic. I am removing the collar. I am releasing you from the rituals, they are yours; you can keep them for as long as you need, but they are yours to choose now. Here is what we built, and here is me taking it down." It does not require ongoing contact. It requires an hour and the willingness to be in the room, while you do the thing you built the authority to do.

Leaving someone in a structure you made, knowing the structure will keep operating, knowing they cannot by any easy means dismantle it alone, and choosing not to be there for the part where it comes down.

I say this as someone who's applying the lessons into my own dominant practice, that's fucked up.

Them

I was a willing participant in the creation. But it's not about what we built, I love what we built so much. It was beautiful, we made fucking magic. It's about what you didn't do, what you left behind, what you refused to help me take down. My limit was that you weren't allowed to affect my health, or leave me useless without you. You violated my limits.

I deserve an ending, I still deserve an ending right now, even if you somehow read this in 2030 and realise this is about you. Yes, It'll cost you something. You arranged my execution so that it wouldn't cost you a thing, but in doing so, you made it cost me months of my life.

You knew exactly what you had built, and you chose the method of leaving that would do the most damage with it -- intentionally or not, and you arranged the conditions so you would not have to witness the damage.

Now all I have of you is the remnants of you in my house.

Red, ██████.

Red.