Pooch's Story

Pooch's Story

Mr. Ed
thepooch@home.com

Pooch's Story
Part 1 Coming Home

The rain sheets down as Pooch hurriedly makes her way  towards the old
brownstone at the  end of  Kennel St. She is running as fast as she can in her
chunky pumps but it is still  awkward. She would make better time in stocking
feet but she doesn't dare remove the  shoes for fear of ruining her nylons. A
million thoughts run through her head one of which is  that her running will put
a ladder in her stockings. It's only September  and she has but six  good
stockings  to last till the new year.  Her back and shoulders ache from the days
work in  the picture frame plant and her lungs are sore from the run from the
bus stop. She can feel a  blister developing on her left heel. Still she keeps
running because the overriding question in  her mind is how late is she?   The
cold rain soaking the pink sweater was hardly a concern.  The run had made Pooch
felt hot. She knew she was late and that made her feel ill.  Up the front steps
of the house she raced. The outside door was unlocked, thank God she  thought.
In she slid closing the door behind her. Pooch found herself in a small portico, 
empty except for the large coconut mat in the corner  by the outside door. In
one of the side  walls between the outside and the inside door was a milk door.
Pooch opened it and quickly  placed her shoes inside. The pink cardigan was
unbuttoned, removed,  folded in four and  placed on top of the shoes   Next she
reached back to the zipper  on the back of her dress  and pulled it down. The
simple brown dress with a flower print slid off her shoulders. Pooch  stepped
out of it folded the dress and placed it in the milk box. She was now dressed in
just  a rather worn looking white brassier, a similarly  old  looking white
garter belt and plain  taupe stockings. The right one had a nasty run at the
heal, near the point where she had felt  the blister. Pooch was hairless below
her neck. This was made obvious  by her lack of  panties. Panties were not
allowed. During her period Pooch could wear a diaper, but that  was as close to
panties as she ever came. She also had no watch, no jewelry, no handbag, no 
wallet, no keys and no money. They were all forbidden. Pooch saw the run in the
stocking  and bit her lower lip. This was  not turning out  to be a good day. 
There was no hesitation in removing the rest of the clothing. Every moment was
important.  If Ed unlocked the  door to the inside of the house and saw her out
of position there would  be extra punishment.

The under clothes were shoved into the milk compartment and the door shut. Pooch
gave  the handle a turn and this locked the milk door.  Her clothes were now out
of reach and she  was totally nude. Pooch now turned towards the right front
corner of the entry way, where  the cocoa mat was and kneeled on it being
careful to be very close to the wall but not to  touch it. Her toes pointed
straight back and she kneeled at attention with her hands at her  sides and
fingers pointing straight down. All was quiet.  Where Pooch had felt hot just
minutes age she now began to feel chilled.

She was wet from  the rain and the portico had no heating duct. It was  a cold
wet fall.

She could stand the chill,  it was the waiting she hatted. Pooch knew that the
longer it Took Ed to open the door the  more severe her punishment would be. Ed
checked for her about once every twenty minutes.  If he opened the door and she
was out of position the door would be closed again and she  would have to wait
another twenty minutes. That would be counted as the amount of time  she was
late. The time she actually got home didn't matter. If Ed was in a foul mood he 
might make her wait even longer and use that time to build up his own anger. 
Today was her fourtieth birthday. No one would remember, she thought.

After all who ever  heard of a slaves birthday?  Pooch did and it made her a bit
more sad.

Time was passing by  and she knew the rest of her life  would be spent in
bondage. She just couldn't  know to  whom. Ed had said many times that when she
no longer pleased him she would be sold.  Although life was harsh  now it would
be much worse if she were sold. At her age she would  be no more than a piece of
meat to someone who saw a quick profit in using her as a sub in  an s&m
brothel or the star of some snuff film. All traces of her pathetic existence
would  probably be erased in a vat of acid. The thought that things could
actually be worse was not  a lot of comfort.  Pooch knew she would be howling
later tonight.  For  someone of forty  with ten years spent in slavery Pooch was
still in remarkably good  shape. At 5'8" and 110 pounds she was as thin as
a rail except for a full pair of breasts, 36C.  With her arms raised every rib
was clearly visible. Ed thought this was sexy and he made  sure that her weight
didn't increase. Her brown hair was cut in a short pageboy style inspired  by
pictures of ancient Egyptian slaves. This was a style simple enough for Pooch to
be able  to cut herself with scissors and a mirror. It required no upkeep. It
didn't cover any of her  assets and most important to Ed it didn't get in the
way of a good hiding. Large,  blue eyes  softened the other features of her face
making Pooch look a bit younger than her years. Her  nose was of average size
straight with just a small bulb on the end and a slight bump in the  middle
where it had been broken once when Ed was in a drunken fit. Her face had a
collision  with his knee. The massive bleeding had scared the hell out of Ed and
it hadn't happened  again. He was good with his hands and when he sobered up he
packed Pooches nose with  cotton and reset the soft bone himself. There would be
no emergency room for Pooch. Ed  had actually done a pretty good job. The weight
that Pooch did carry was almost all muscle.  Bone protruded at the points of her
hips and there was no padding on her ass or thighs just  nice muscle definition 
The muscles of her calves, stomach, back and shoulders were also  well defined.
Her build was no accident. It was the result of hard labour and a compulsory 
training program. Pooches' breasts sagged a bit, normal for any woman over
twenty-five. In  her case they had been beaten, twisted, stretched, clamped,
tied, pierced, bitten, pinched and  burned on a regular basis. Ed loved what he
referred to as tit play.  A dark ring surrounded  the base of each breast where
they were tied by  the tit rope so many times that the rope had  left  permanent
marks. Each breast was covered with tiny small scars and bruises. Those tits 
kept reminded her of their existence all times. Her naked mons fared little
better. The flesh  had turned brown and was constantly swollen. The colour
helped to hide marks and bruising  but the nerves were alive and well. When her
legs were spread three eyelets could be seen  running along the length of each
of her inner pussy lips. These had been inserted a long time  ago using a  tool
from the shoe making trade. When these had been inserted, it was one of  the
very few times Pooch had passed out from pain. Little plugs of flesh had
actually been  punched out with a leather punch and then the eyelets were
inserted and permanently set.  Since Ed had read that one could avoid passing
out through conscious effort this was now  considered a serious offense and was
punished as such. The most striking feature of Pooch's  naked  body however were
the marks covering her back. This was Ed's living canvas. Her  muscular back was
covered with weales, bumps and bruises colored from yellow to purple.  the
marking ran from the bottom of her buttocks right up to the tops of her
shoulders. Soon  this painting would be refreshed.

Her life was very structured and governed by strict rules. She owned nothing and
possessing  anything other then the clothes on her back  was forbidden, thus no
money, purse, keys etc.  Entertainment of any sort was not allowed, no
television, radio, books, magazines or  newspapers. Outside the house Pooch was
not to be assertive with anyone.

In the house  things went much further. There was no talking unless spoken to
and then only to respond to  what was asked. She was never to give an opinion,
argue or ask for anything. In the house  her gaze was to be directed at peoples
feet, never their face. Obedience was to be absolute,  with no hesitation, and
this extended to anyone in the house. She was responsible for all the  cooking
and house work. No  decisions were her own. Pooch was told when and what  to 
eat, when to use the toilet or in her case bucket, when and where to sleep etc. 
There could  be no friendships or communications with anyone outside the house.

Touching herself was  one of the most serious infractions. Masturbation was a
totally selfish act and slaves lived  only to please their masters, never
themselves. Ed actually kept a book filled with rules along  with minimum
punishments. He also wrote down every infraction so that if he saw Pooch in 
frequent violation of any rule the punishment would be increased till her
behavior was  corrected. He kept this as a permanent record with no expiry.  She
couldn't get over how  awful it felt to be confronted with things she had done
eight or nine years ago but everything  was part of the permanent record.   The
bristles  from the mat were starting to irritate Pooch's knees and especially
the tops of  her feet. Ed seemed to delight in finding was to make every routine
a little more difficult or  uncomfortable for her. Kneeling on the tile floor 
would be just too easy. There is nothing  like waiting to make time slow to a
crawl. The minutes slowly passed.

The sick feeling in her  stomach got worse. "Please, please open the
door", she thought. Finally she heard the bolt  turn and the door open.

"Well you shit faced whore your fourty minutes late", Ed yelled at her
in his most  intimidating voice.

"It's the second time this month. I guess I didn't create a strong enough
impression on you  last time, isn't that right whore "? Pooch knew better
than to disagree. "Yes master. I'm sorry master".

"Well you're going to remember this time and your going to remember for a
very long time".

"Get up and start my dinner and don't bother putting on the serving outfit
you've wasted  enough time. Marla will be coming over later and there is much to
do".    "Thank goodness for small favors" Pooch thought.  She
hated the serving outfit which was a bit like a french maid costume with only
the cap, a  tiny apron, black  fishnet stockings, garter belt and extremely high
stiletto heels with a heavy  ankle strap ensuring they stayed on. The shoes had
been purchased from a specialty shop  deliberately a size too small. They hurt
her feet terribly and slowed everything down.  Hearing that Marla was coming
over was another matter. Pooch hatted Marla in a way that  she hatted no one
else. She was Ed's girl friend and a lot prettier and younger than she.  Marla
loved to flaunt her relationship with Ed in Pooch's face. She was extremely
smart, a  court room lawyer, and she was an unrepentant sadist that liked
inflicting psychological  torture as much as physical. Although nobody else knew
it, Pooch was more of a reason for  Marla spending time with Ed than he was. The
fact that Marla knew that Pooch hatted her  and yet had to be just as obedient
to her orders as she was to Ed's was just so delicious.

"There will be no dinner for you tonight" Ed said.

Pooch figured as much. She was almost never fed before a whipping because there
was too  much danger of choking on her own vomit if she were gagged.

She got up on her toes and keeping her eyes down walked past Ed into the house
and  toward the kitchen.

Pooch's Story
Part 2 Evening Rituals

Ed was holding the small rubber whip which raised the nastiest welts and stung
like a dozen  bees. He also smelled of alcohol. These were very bad signs for
Pooch.

She knew Ed rarely  carried around the "supervisor", as he called the
small whip, unless he intended to use it and  alcohol made him much freer in
administering discipline.  "Hurry up".  She heard the whip crack and
then felt the sting on her right side intensify to a burn.    Pooch held her
breath and ran to the kitchen. "Fuck that hurts" she thought. Tears
started  forming in her eyes but not a sound escaped her throat.  "Marla
said that she thought I had been too easy on you and I think she's right."
Ed left for the library  without another word while Pooch was left to
contemplate that  bitches ever increasing influence on him. She couldn't help it
but it made her blood boil.  Pooch quickly prepared a tossed  salad and placed a
salmon steak on the frying pan. It was  Friday and on Fridays Ed liked to have
fish. It was a part of his Catholic upbringing. There  was still some wine left
from the previous day.  She poured a glass and set it down beside   Ed's plate
on the kitchen table. Pooch didn't want Ed to get any more intoxicated  but he 
liked wine with his meal so that was that. Just as the fish was cooked Ed walked
in and sat  down. The "supervisor' was stuck through his belt. Pooch served
the fish and stepped back  two steppes from the table waiting to serve any of
Ed's needs.  "Have your heels touched the floor since you've  been home
this evening"?  "No master" Pooch answered.

"Put tape on your heels" "Yes master", she answered.

Pooch went over to one of the kitchen drawers and removed two squares of double
sided  tape. She discarded the cover paper and applied one square to the bottom
of each heal. If the  heel touched the floor, or anything else for that matter,
it would pick up evidence  that she  had broken one of the rules. She must only
walk on her toes while barefoot. Pooch returned  to her spot.

"More wine" barked Ed.

Pooch poured a second glass.

"Is there any pie left" ? "Yes master" "Good. Cut me a
slice and then straighten up the house. I want the house neat and the dishes 
done by 7:30. At  7:30 I want you in the playroom with your ankles fastened for
the bar.  You're going to get forty  with the "big boy" for being late
today. One stroke for every  minute. I think that will get your attention. Oh,
and when Marla gets here we are going to  have a little court session with her
as judge. Thanks to her advise I've done some  surveillance on you and found
that you have been less than honest. That will be all." Pooch was floored.
Forty stokes with the "big boy", what could he be thinking? The big
boy  was a three inch wide urethane strap, three feet long, a quarter inch thick 
attached to a  wooden handle with a `knob and loop of leather at the end to go
around Ed's wrist. About  every three quarters of an inch in any direction there
was a hole drilled through the strap to  let air pass through and prevent the
blows being softened by a cushion of air. This was  insanity she thought. She
had received twenty strokes once before and besides going  delirious from the
pain she couldn't straighten up for a week and then only with great  difficulty.
If she survived forty, Pooch was convinced, she would be crippled for life. And 
then Ed expected to have some court session after that?  "Good luck, I'll
be dead", she  thought. Now there was a clue to his foul mood. He had
caught her breaking the rules and it  was all thanks to that bitch Marla. What
had he caught her doing? She felt like she was  going to throw up. She felt her
life was over.

Despite  the feelings of impending doom Pooch bore down and finished her chores.
The bed  was made, carpets vacuumed, dishes washed and items straightened.

Shortly before 7:30  Pooch made her way down the cellar steps to the
"playroom".  The playroom, as Ed called it, evoked no thoughts of play
for Pooch. It was a cold, damp,  dark and unpleasant  place by design. It had
been built by Pooches own labor. It was lower  than the rest of the basement by
some two feet and was entered through a double thick,   windowless, steel door.
A heavy rubber gasket around  the edge created a total seal. The  room was a
large square shape with an aggregate cement floor, concrete block walls and a 
wood beam ceiling. Illumination came from a single bare light bulb  placed near
the base of  one wall creating shadows that went up instead of down for a very
macabre effect. There  was  a torch on each wall for effect, though they were
seldom used. The air was damp and  pungent. A hole had been cut into the main
sewer pipe which ran down one corner of the  room and a small bracket had been
inserted into the pipe. waste running down the pipe  would hit  the bracket and
a small amount would splash out of the hole.

This constantly  renewed the biological materials growing on most of the
surfaces. To one side was a  medieval looking gynecologists table  made from
rough hewn wood  with stirrups   projecting  of one end and leather straps
everywhere. The largest item, in the room was a  rack. Again it was of rough
wood construction  with chains and manacles for the ankles at  one end and
similar fixtures for the wrists attached to a giant wood drum at the other end. 
Many iron rings were embedded in the walls and floor. On the ceiling were four
pulleys   allowing each limb to be attached and adjusted separately. On the wall
just to the side of the  door  was a storage area for the assorted whips,
binders, cuffs, harnesses, clamps, dildos   and other toys. One item that didn't
seem to fit into the room was a reclining leather chair  set well above the
filthy floor on a large wooden box. It almost had a throne like quality. It  was
Marla's seat and Pooch had to make sure she cleaned it every day.

The bitch didn't  want to get her clothes soiled while she watched her suffer.
In one corner, set into the floor  was a two foot  square iron plate with a
large ring  in the center, which acted as a handle. A  couple of bolts on
opposite sides of the plate entered the concrete so that it could not be  
pushed up from below. This was the entry to "the pit", a seven foot
deep  hole with concrete  walls and a dirt floor. When in the pit it was like
being buried alive except you couldn't lie  down. Pooch walked down the steps
and walked straight ahead toward the opposite wall.  Five feet from the wall 
and parallel to it was a "T" formed from a couple of two inch metal 
pipes. It had been embedded at least a foot into the concrete floor  was as wide
as Pooch's  hips and the top was hip high. On the floor , about a foot past each
end of the  T, on the  floor, were short chains with leather ankle cuffs
attached. Pooch took a pair of leather wrist  cuffs, which had been resting on
the top of the T and  tightened the Velcro straps around her  wrists. She then
spread her legs, squatted down and fastened each ankle  to a cuff on the  floor.
She then stood up straight, always careful to stay on her toes, placed her hands
behind  her head and stood facing the back wall with the top of the T just
touching the front of her  hips. She now waited for Ed and possibly a painful
end to her life.

Pooch began to actually  tremble from fear.

Ed walked in shut the door behind him and walked to the back well.

"Give me your wrists".

Pooch bent at the waist, hips over the crossbar and extended her arms over her
head  stretching  toward the back wall, her back  parallel to the floor. Ed
grabbed each wrist pulled  it as tight as he could and attached each to separate
chains on the wall. Pooch was stretched  tight with the cross bar bruising her
hips. A wave of panic began to overtake her. Ed walked  to the storage area and
picked up the big boy along with a bit gag. He walked back to  Pooch's straining
body and used it as a table to set down the strap and gag.

"Before I start your punishment I have something to say to you and you will
have a decision  to make."  Ed had her undivided attention. Dare she hope
that she might get out of this?  "About ten years ago you agreed to be my
slave and accept, absolutely, everything that  would come from that decision.
For all the years since then you have lived up to that  agreement and for the
most part you have been magnificent. I never dreamed that I would  find somebody
like you and you have made the last ten years  more enjoyable, more loving  and
more exciting than any man deserves. Thank you Pooch. Thank you very much.  I
love  you with all my soul. I love you much more than you might think".
Ed's voice was soft and a  bit unsteady.  "Today is your fortieth
birthday" Ed continued, "and I feel we have come to a crossroads. 
Lately things have become a bit stagnant between us and I don't think that you
have been  very happy. I know that I've told you that when you stopped pleasing
me that I would sell  you to some white slavers and that would be the end of it,
but Pooch I just can't do that. I  don't have it in me.  Pooch stared at her
dangling bruised tits. She was totally confused. He loves me, he's tired  of me,
he's going to get rid of me, he's not going to get rid of me, what's going on?
It's true  that she hadn't been deliriously happy lately but she was still
trying her best. Hadn't she  walked into the position she was in now knowing it
may mean the end of her life. She no  longer had any other life. Tears began to
well up in her eyes.

"Things are going to have to change because I don't think a long, drawn out
decline in this  relationship is what either of us want, so this is the choice
that you must make".  "The first choice is that we end our
relationship right now. I will provide you with enough  money to start a new
life. You will agree to reside somewhere  distant from her and we will  never
see each other again. There would be no whipping but instead I will drive you 
downtown and let you go".

"The second choice is that you accept what you have coming to you and
believe me I am not  going to hold back. You will then go to trial for your past
transgressions. Marla will be the  judge and you will agree to accept any
judgment that she may hand down.

I will also warn  you that Marla will be moving in with me permanently and you
will serve two masters full  time. With Marla here all the time things will be a
lot harder on you and I think that that is  just what it might take to make
things exciting again".  "I will give you a minute to choose. If you
choose to stay then just open your mouth wide  and I will put the bit in your
mouth and start your whipping. If you choose to leave then say  so and I will
let you go. This is not a trap of any sort"  One minute to make the most
important decision of her life seemed highly unfair. "Ed's  probably
thought about this for weeks and I get a minute while stretched out waiting for
a  whipping", thought Pooch. She didn't want to get this beating and the
thought of serving  Marla all the time was repulsive. Ed was right, things had
become stale, the excitement was  gone, replaced by day to day drudgery. Yet she
had no desire to go back to a vanilla lifestyle  and she thought that at her age
she didn't have much chance of finding someone to replace   Ed, especially
someone she could trust to survive another ten years with. He must also have 
something in mind with regards to this punishment session that would leave her
intact. After  all she had been Ed's slave for a long time and was still
healthy.

Somehow things will work  out. Pooch opened her mouth wide.  Ed placed the bit
in her mouth and strapped it in tight pulling back the corners of her mouth 
almost to her ears. "I'm glad you decided to stay Pooch, I hope you don't
regret it. Just  never forget that this was your choice. Now I think it's
appropriate that I get Marla in here  to help celebrate our new beginning".
He walked back and opened the playroom door.  Looking back between her spread
legs Pooch could see Marla walk down the steps. She was  wearing judges robes
and carrying a bottle of Champaign in one hand and a couple of glasses  in the
other. She placed the items down on the box carrying her chair and walked over
to  nervous prisoner.

"Well well well, you decided not to leave us. I'm so glad. It's going to be
so much fun  training you to respond to my tastes. I'm sure that soon you'll
wish you made the other  choice. Ed, why don't you pour us a glass? Too bad that
Pooch's mouth too full to have a  drink. I know, pour some Champaign over her
back, that would be even more appropriate".

He poured the Champaign first into the glasses and then onto Pooch, wetting her 
from the  nape of the neck to the crack of her but.  Marla coolly held her glass
in one hand and  smeared the spilled bubbly all over the slaves back and ass.
"The strap will make a louder  sound she said and it will sting the broken
skin. To the three of us", Marla toasted. "To the  three of us" ,
answered Ed. "Just remember how I showed you to swing that thing. Step into 
the stroke", reminded Marla. "My God!" thought Pooch, "It
looks like the bitch is going to  be calling the tune. I don't need this".
Ed helped Marla up into her chair, had another sip of  champagne, put down the
glass and picked up the big boy.

Pooch's Story
Part 3 Marla's Tune

Ed stood well back from Pooch's left Side. He held the strap in his right hand
straight down  so that the end rested on the floor. He took a small step with
his left foot followed by a large  step with his right his strap arm windmilling
over his head and then speeding down as he  bent at the waist to add every last
bit of velocity. The sound of the air passing through the  holes in the strap
quickly went from a low "whoosh" to a high pitched whistle.

The strap crashed right across the center of Pooch's back. "Pooch entered
another world  where the only reality was pain and the only thought was please,
please stop. Her body  tensed bruising her hips over the cross bar even more,
but this she didn't even feel. What she  felt was a wide strip of skin being
ripped off her back and she screamed over the bit. The  skin immediately turned
crimson with dozens of tiny pale circles where the holes in the big  boy were. 
"Not bad", said Marla, "but could you slow down your arm until
it's on the way down and  then give it a sharp pull. It will increase to tip
velocity".  Pooch couldn't believe it. She was loosing her mind after just
one stroke and here was Marla  coaching Ed on how to make the next stroke hurt
her even more. If she could have changed  her earlier decision she would have
now.

The second stroke landed over the strong muscles of her shoulders. He had
listened to his  lover and the result was a higher pitched whistle, a louder
crack and a more desperate  scream.

"Good job Ed. Now give it about half a minute to let the pain peak".

As the scream died down to a loud sob stroke number three landed just above the
base of  her buttocks. Pooch was in total panic. Her heart pounded as to be
visible from across the  room. She was hyperventilating, sweating, her nose ran
like a faucet and she was praying for  the end, any end.

"Now go back and hit her over the middle of the back again. I bet that will
get an interesting  reaction".  On the forth stroke Pooch went hysterical.
The scream didn't stop.

Maybe, she thought, if  she screamed as loud as she could without stopping it
would convince the two of them that  she just couldn't stand another blow.

"I told you it would get a reaction". Marla had her feet up and had
started to finger herself  left hand underneath the robe while the right hand
held her glass. "Now come down fast in  between the three spots you've
already got, and see if you can get a higher leg kick before  stepping into the
stroke".

The two loudest cracks followed one right after another. Pooch's body looked for
a stronger  way to express it's desperation. She  evacuated from every hole she
could expel from. Her  nose ran, her eyes, wept her empty stomach sent up acid,
her bladder gushed forward a  broad stream of urine and her bowel shot out a
massive turd followed by a gush of gas. She  hung quiet, able to fight no more.

"You don't allow this, do you Ed? I thought she was better trained".

"This is going to cost you dear" purred Marla.

"Why don't you release her Ed and then snuggle up to me on the chair.

Pooch has a mess to  clean  up and there's no reason we shouldn't enjoy
ourselves while she does".

"Pooch dear, you are going to have ten minutes to eat up all the piss,
snot, barf and shit  that's on the floor. The floor has to be licked clean. If
it takes more than ten minutes it will  cost an extra stroke for every minute.
When you're finished and the floor passes my  inspection we will start again
from the beginning. I will not put up with this sort of bull shit.  I strongly
recommend that you never try this again. Oh, don't chew the shit, just bite off
and  swallow. I want it sitting in your stomach as long as possible".

When Ed unhooked the wrist cuffs Pooch slumped over the cross bar. Rest, just
please give  me a second to rest she thought. The ankle cuffs and gag were
removed but still she couldn't  force herself to move.  "The clock has
started. I suggest you get your ass in gear or you are going to be a lot sorrier 
than you already are", said Marla.

Slowly Pooch brought her legs together and pushed of the bar. Her back was still
on fire and  the muscles ached so much. Much of the skin was going a dark maroon
color and swelling  from the bruising.  "You better catch the end of that
river of piss before it spreads too far, shouted Ed".

Pooch got on her hands and knees and crawled over to were it was flowing pursed
her lips  and started to suck in the vile fluid off of the slimy floor.

"Work that tongue to get into all the bumps", said Marla, and use the
back of your tongue  and not just the tip. I want you to get all of the taste.
You have nine minutes left".

Marla was now sitting on Ed's lap with the judges robes up over her hips showing
nothing  underneath but a thick broad thatch of black hair and sheer black thigh
high stockings  leading to black stiletto pumps. Ed was busy fingering her,
spreading her juices over her  thighs and bush, sliding his hand over the
glorious, long stockinged legs. As they sipped  Moet & Chandon Ed and Marla
were in heaven. As Pooch worked her way along the floor,  tongue scrapped raw,
slurping, licking and finally swallowing her own feces, she was in hell.  After
every swallow she wanted to retch and every swallow was harder to keep down  as
her  belly filled with excrement. When Pooch was down to tonguing out the bumps
in the floor  Marla told her to use her hair to finish cleaning up and then go
back to the bar.

"Nine and a half minutes" Marla said. "you finally did something
right.

Now lets see if you  can behave better while you're being whipped".

Ed lifted Marla of his lap and put her back down in the recliner while he went
to reattach the  slave. She winced as her back was bent and she was stretched
towards the wall. Although a  lot of the sting was gone her back ached and was
extremely tender. The stroke of a feather  across her back would have brought a
yelp. The taste in her mouth and feeling in her gut had  her fighting back
nausea all the time. Ed didn't put the gag back in her mouth.

"Now dear", said Marla, "you can count this as your first lesson
in real discipline. You're  not going to be gagged. Ed is going to start the
whipping from the beginning. I know you  won't have the self control to keep
quiet but you will count each stroke after it lands and ask  for another,
HARDER!, one. DO I MAKE MYSELF PERFECTLY CLEAR!!", Marla  shouted.

"Yes mistress".

"If you fail to respond or loose count we will start over again. Ed, give
her about thirty  seconds between lashes to give the slave time to respond. Go
ahead.

The first blow crashed across the small of Pooch's back and hurt more than any
of the  previous cuts but she had something to concentrate on other than the
pain. She did  reflexively scream but collected herself to say "One. May I
please have another, harder one".  She started crying.

"Remember Ed, she asked for a harder one".

"I'll do my best to oblige my lovely pain junky". He struck with all
his might. Blood started  to ooze from spots  that the strap had overlapped. 
Pooch fought to keep control.

"Two. May I please have another, harder one", she sobbed.

By the fifteenth stroke Pooch's back was a raw, bloody, inflamed mass that might
have gone  through a butchers mechanical meat tenderizer. Blood was running down
her sides and  dripping on the floor. Her face was wet and swollen from crying
and her throat was hoarse  from screaming.

"I think that will be enough for tonight", intoned Marla as she wiped
her slimy hand on the  chair arm. "I don't think she really feels it
anymore, and I went her coherent for court.  Why  don't you put that giant ice
bag on her back to keep down the swelling and you and I will go  for a
nightcap".

"Good idea" said Ed. He left to get the bag.

When he returned Pooch was screaming once again as Marla massaged tea tree oil
into her  open cuts. "I know this hurts dear, she said, but it's amazing
stuff.

You'll thank me for it  later. I got it just for you". Marla finished the
back rub and Ed threw the saddle blanket sized  ice bag over Pooch's back.

Pooch's Story
Part 4 - The Trial

What seemed like an eternity passed before Ed returned to fetch Pooch for the
trial. Her  teeth were chattering from the cold of the ice blanket. Ed removed
the giant bag and set it  aside. "Not too bad", he commented. "That ice has
really kept the swelling down". His  words fell on deaf ears. Pooch was too
cold, too sore and too tired to comprehend much of  what was said. When he
released her wrist cuffs Pooch just slumped over the hip bar. Her  back was too
weak to straighten up. After freeing her ankles Ed picked her shivering body 
and laid it down on the rack. When her ravaged back contacted the rough wood she
let out a  moan, but still Pooch did not move.

"I'm going to dress you for court now. You've got to be presentable for the
judge and jury".

Pooch caught this remark and the feeling of panic stared to creep back.

When she heard the  word jury it meant that there would more people, strangers, 
present.

Despite her sexual  predilections Pooch was a very shy person and her
relationship with Ed, at least till Marla  showed up, had been a private affair.
When she decided to stay the idea that Marla could use  her publicly had not
occurred to her. If it had she would have left.   Ed had brought over the slut
strap and studded bra for Pooch to wear.

The slut strap was  made of two thick but fairly narrow leather straps one of
which went around the waist and  the other between the legs. The strap that went
between the legs had two metal plates  attached with threaded studs welded to
the plates. This allowed various dildos and but plugs  to be screwed in.  Both
straps had metal reinforced  slots that fit over steel D rings allowing  the
straps to be tightened to various degrees and locked in place with padlocks.
Today the  strap had the largest dongs, that Ed knew would fit, attached. The
one for her cunt was a ten  inch long by three inch thick monster and the one
for her brownie was almost  two inches  wide by eight inches long. The studded
bra was also an adjustable leather unit. Each cup  consisted of two leather
rings, one for the front of the breast, encircling the nipple about a  half inch
back from it, and the other fitting the base of the breast and adjustable, just
like the  slut strap. Three short leather strips connected the two cup rings and
a wider strap went  from the side  of each cup to be fastened behind the slaves
back.

Nothing connected the cups  at the front  allowing the  captive tits to be
pulled to the sides to the extent that the back  strap was tightened. The most
unusual part of this brassier was that not only were there  studs on the outside
but there was a corresponding stud on the inside.

the inside studs were  about a half inch long and pointed, though not sharp
enough to penetrate the skin.  "Would you like to lubricate these or do they go
in dry?" scowled Ed.  Pooch gathered up as much saliva as she could and opened
her mouth wide.

Each dildo was  shoved to the back of her throat as she tried to slobber as much
spit on them as she could.  Keeping the contents of her stomach down as the
phalluses made her gag was a real  struggle.

"Spread your pussy lips".

Pooch reached down and spread the lips as wide as she could with her fingers. Ed
started to  shove the monster dildo into  Pooch's dry cunt. Thank got for the
spit she thought, but as  the cock head was forced into the hole it still
stretched the sensitive skin almost to the  breaking point. With just the head
inserted into her cunt Ed started inserting the other dildo  up her anus. Since
both dildos were attached they had to be inserted simultaneously. Pooch  let out
a yelp as her sphincter was stretched to the limit. Slowly both dongs were
inched in  to their limits and that straps locked tight.  The tip of the dildo
in her cunt could actually  be  seen to cause a bump in her belly just above her
belly button.  Putting her legs together was  impossible. Pooch was full and
stretched to the limit. Pressure against her bladder made her  want to pee and
the full anus created an overwhelming desire to shit, of course she could do 
neither. The pressure against her womb was painful as was the stretching of her
rectum.  The bra was next to go on and Pooch feared this even more than the
invasion of her private  holes. The first cup was placed over the left breast
and pulled back as much as possible  causing the studs to dig into the soft
flesh surrounding the nipple. The strap around the base  of the breast was then
pulled as tight as Ed could. The tit ballooned making the front ring  much
tighter and all the studs dug in causing some tearing and bleeding.

Pooch screamed.  Ed slapped her hard. She quieted down to a whimper. The process
was repeated with the  right breast. Both turned purple. As Ed went to do up the
back straps and pull the tits out to  the sides Pooch started shaking.  "It
won't do you any good", said Ed and the straps were  locked together tight
behind her back causing Pooch's swollen melons to be pulled  obscenely sideways.
Tears flowed where she thought there were none left.  "I'm sure you  can manage
to put these on". Pooch was handed her black pumps. She managed to force  them
on to her feet. Ed then brought over a set of heavy leg irons and manacles. It
was all  getting to be too much for Pooch. She was hurting badly and was about
to be humiliated in  front of who knows how many strangers. It occurred to her
that since she was alone with  Ed, for the moment maybe she could still change
her mind about staying? She would try.

"Please master" she said, getting off the  table and unto her knees. "I beg you
to let me  change my mind and let me go. You don't have to give me anything.
That could be the  penalty for changing my mind, just,  OOOF!!!  Ed's foot
caught her in the solar plexus and Pooch writhed  silently on the floor  unable
to breath.

 "You know", said Ed, "Marla may be right about you. You are a very bad slave.
You are  still being disciplined from disobedience and you break two more rules.

This is going to have  to come up at your trial. Furthermore, I will let you
know, I no longer control your destiny. I  have given you to Marla as a wedding
gift and I don't think she has any intention of letting  you go".

Pooch lost her will to live. A dagger through her heart would have been
preferable to  hearing those words.  Her dress was completed with a collar and
leash being placed around her neck followed by a  cape, borrowed from Marla,
draped over her shoulders to cover her ravaged back. Pooch  was then led by the
leash out of the playroom in irons and in disgrace.

In the living room Marla presided over a collection of sadists that she had come
to know  through her law practice. There were six guests in all, four men and
two women. All were  involved in the sex trade and owed their freedom to Marla's
legal acumen. Non had to be  coerced into coming.  The most imposing was Mark, a
member of the Hell's Advocates motorcycle gang and  responsible for controlling
the stripers  in the clubs stable. He had red hair, a handlebar  mustache and
his 6'5" 250 pound frame was all muscle.  Jordan ran a string of hookers that
offered special services for kinky customers. He was loud  in both manner and
dress. At 5'10" and 200 pounds his black skin bulged over his belt  buckle. That
was the price of self indulgence.  Garret owned one of the cities more notorious
strip clubs. The police were always trying to  shut him down for offering
customers extras besides the show. They never succeeded. He  was 6' tall average
build 45 years old with black hair and impeccably tailored.  Least conspicuous
of the men was Steve a 50 year old plastic surgeon, 5'10, 160 pounds,  graying
hair and glasses. Altering the build and appearance of street whores to suit
their  pimps desires had given him free range to experiment with different
surgical techniques and  get stunning results.

 Fourty year old Shandra was born in  the Philippines and had ended up in the
west through  the illegal sex trade. She had worked her way up from street
walker to madam at the local  dungeon. The 5'2" 135 pound madam had lost her
looks years ago but she was in total  control of her business, customers and
girls. She had on a white ruffled blouse, knee length  red skirt, red hose and
red pumps.

Greta, on the other hand, was spectacular. At 5'10" and 150 pounds, blonde hair,
blue eyes  she was tits, legs  and muscles. A dominatrix by profession she was
the best at her craft.  Hard cases were regularly turned over to her by the mob
for special discipline and training.  Greta loved her work. She was wearing a
gray pinstriped business suit with a tight skirt  going down to just below the
knees, a shear white high collar blouse, black stockings and  heels and a black
push up bra clearly visible through the blouse.

The men were all sitting on a large white leather sectional sofa in front of
which was a large  square oak coffee table.   The women were on a separate
matching love seat. Marla sat alone  in a green velvet, high backed armchair.
Beer was the beverage of choice, at the moment but  there was an open bar built
into the bookcase which covered one wall.

There was also a  brown leather recliner and a couple of burgundy Queen Ann
chairs, all sitting empty.

"It appears that the prisoner has finally arrived", spoke Marla, as Pooch was
led into the  room walking bow legged and red faced with shame. "Have the
prisoner remove her shoes  and stand on the table". Pooch did as she was
instructed.  To Pooch the situation took on the qualities of a bad dream. She
believed less and less that  this could be happening to her. She thought she
would play along and that when she woke  up everything would be back the way it
was. None of this will have happened.

Ed sat down in one of the empty Queen Ann chairs.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury," Marla spoke in a loud clear voice.

"You have been  summoned here to pass judgment on this pathetic excuse for  a
slave, not to judge her guilt  or innocence, for there is no doubt of her guilt,
but whether she is to live on in some   restricted manner or be put to death. If
the verdict is death the sentence will begin to be  carried out tomorrow morning
as soon as all the recording equipment is in place. She will be  tortured for no
less than three days but with good medical assistance and advice I think it 
could be extended much longer than that. In the end she will be a limbless,
faceless, eyeless,  skinless, disemboweled slab of raw meat which will be fed to
Marks hogs".

This had to be a dream, thought Pooch, but why was she shaking so much? "In case
you think this isn't a real possibility Pooch", Marla went on, "I am going to
run this  video for the duration of the evening, with the sound off so that it's
not too distracting. This  video documents the last four days in the life of
Jasmine, a stripper who was caught  gathering evidence against Garret for the
police. Bailiff would you turn on the video please.

Ed, who was playing the bailiff, turned on the video machine. The projection
television in the  corner of the room came to life. The picture showed a petite
blonde girl nailed to a large  wooden arm chair  legs splayed sideways with
large headed spikes through each calf just  behind the shin bone driven into the
massive chair legs, her wrists nailed to the chair arms   and her shoulders
nailed to the backrest. A spiked leather belt around her belly pulled her  body
back against the short but sharpened spikes of the seat back. A similar belt
across her  thighs pulled her ass down onto spikes in the seat. Her head was
pulled back from behind by  a strap over her eyes so her face pointed straight
up. In her mouth were two clamps, placed  on the gums behind the back molar 
forcing her mouth wide open  without obstructing any  teeth. A man was using a
small grinding wheel, the kind hobbyists might use. to grind down  each tooth,
from the back till the nerves were totally exposed, but leaving an attractive
smile.   One breast had been sliced right through, top to bottom and a butane
torch used to stop the  bleeding. "You will notice," said Marla she has an IV in
her arm. It contains a cocktail of  stimulants to heighten the pain and keep her
conscious while being tortured. If the jury  decides on death the body in the
picture will be yours. It may interest you to know that the  video has made
almost a hundred thousand dollars so there is a lot of pressure to impose the 
death penalty".  Pooch couldn't watch and lowered her eyes.

"Don't take your eyes of the screen you fucking disobedient whore!! Marla
shouted. This is  for your own benefit so that you know what's facing you if
your judged unworthy, now  apologize"! "I'm sorry for taking my eyes off the
screen Mistress" whimpered a nauseous Pooch.

"Don't do it again or you'll be in that chair so fast it will make your head
spin. Now let me  tell everyone why this trial is taking place".

"Over the last few months I have instigated a surveillance program on you
without Ed's  knowledge in case he tipped you off either by accident or on
purpose. I wanted a true  picture of your obedience and loyalty. Sadly for you I
found you deficient in almost all areas.  I will give a few examples.  Are you
allowed friends Pooch?" "No mistress", she answered.

"Here are five photographs of you having lunch and laughing with some of the
girls at the  factory where you work".

"You work piece work and don't have to take lunch or breaks if you don't want
to, right? "Yes mistress".

"In fact You are not allowed breaks because it reduces the amount of money you
turn in to  Ed. Am I right? "Yes mistress".

"Here is a photo of you receiving a ride part way home. Is that allowed?" "No
mistress".

"Are you allowed to carry any money?" "No mistress".

"Here is a photo showing you paying to get into an afternoon movie. How many
rules are  you breaking here"? Pooch was silent.

"Answer me slave!, Marla exclaimed.

Pooch was now not only trembling in fear but crying as well.

"I, I hhad money that I'm nnnot allowed", she stuttered. "I wwwas downtown. I, I
lied  about being at work. I took money out of Ed's pocket by not working and
I'm not allowed  movies, mistress". Pooch was caught red handed. She was being
humiliated. This had to be  the worst dream of her life. When would it end?
"There is more isn't there?, asked Marla.

"Yes mistress, I lied to Ed when he asked me if I had broken any rules at work",
Pooch  cried.

In fact you lied to him all the time didn't you? "Yes mistress".

 "So you see that you have been a truly poor slave. You are lazy, disobedient, a
liar and a  thief. You can never be trusted. If this court decides against your
death I don't now how I  will have to deal with you but rest assured your life
will be a lot different".  Ed got up and  whispered something into Marla's ear. 
"I am told your lack of self discipline has continued even tonight." Pooch had
now not only been given away but also betrayed by the man she loved.

"Rest assured that if you live you will be severely disciplined for that act",
said Marla coldly.

The girl on the video screen had now had her head released. She was being forced
to watch  while a very agitated rat was being forced into her vagina head first
and then her pussy was  clamped shut. You could see her belly rippling from the
effort of the panic stricken rat to  escape. The poor girls eyes were bulging
out of her head. This was miles beyond anything  Pooch had ever imagined. She
started to pray for the victim and at the same time pray for  herself.

"That's one of my favorite scenes", commented Marla.

"Now let me tell you why we are here since everyone agrees that you  are guilty
of  innumerable transgressions. You are here to be judged whether or not you
show enough  promise to get another chance and live. Each juror has come up with
a task for you to  perform. I have looked at these tasks and have judged them to
be not only appropriate but  possible for a well trained slave to do. We know,
of course, that you are not a well trained  slave. No offense Ed. Failure to
complete any task will mean death, but simply completing  the tasks is not
enough. Your worthiness will be judged on the manner in which you  complete
them. Attitude, performance, reluctance, enthusiasm and over all entertainment 
value will be judged. The jury must be unanimous for you to live. If the
decision is life then I  will decide on your future treatment. Do you want to go
on with the trial or do you want to  be put to death?" White hot wires were now
being repeatedly inserted under Jasmine's toe nails until the nails  popped off.

"Please let me be tried", bawled Pooch. The nightmare was not ending.  "Very
well. I will introduce the jurors to you and I suggest that you remember their
names.  You may look away from the screen."  Pooch looked at the jury as each
member was introduced.

"Would you bring in the implements for the first task?" Marla asked Ed.

He returned pushing in a cart holding a brassier filled with hot coals and a
pair of two foot  long needles that glowed red hot. Beside the brassier were
three pairs of vise grips.  "Watch the screen as I instruct you" Pooches gaze
went back to the unspeakable torture going on the video screen. She had  turned
white after seeing the implements.

Marla went on.

"After that pretty  bra of yours is removed you will walk over to the cart and
pick up the  first pair of vise grips point them directly at your left nipple,
place the ends of the jaws so  they are even with the top and bottom of the
nipple and you will squeeze them till they lock  shut. You will then repeat the
process on the right nipple. I want the jaws covering the entire  nipple but not
beyond. Once the clamp is attached you will not support it in any way. You  will
let the entire weight hang from the nipples. You will then walk over to me and
ask me to  inspect the clamps. If they are not positioned as I have stated I
will have you remove them  and put them back on again until they are right. I
will then tell you to go on and you will  walk over to the cart again and pick
up one of the needles with the remaining vise grips.  With the other hand you
will take the left vise grip pull it straight out pulling your tit tight.  You
will then pass the needle through your tit, top to bottom, an inch behind the
nipple. You  will leave the needle half way through release the vise grip
holding the needle, then let go of  the grip still locked on your tit and repeat
with the other needle through the right tit. You  will then walk over to each
juror and ask to have your tits examined. If all the jurors agree  that the
needles have been properly placed you will then step back up on the table and
pull  them the rest of the way through with your fingers. They will be cool by
then. You can then  take the clamps off your nipples and put everything back on
the cart.

You will then thank  Greta for the task, get back on the table and watch the
screen while I describe the next task.  Any questions"? Do I have to watch the
screen while I'm doing these tasks"? asked Pooch.

"No. You can concentrate on the tasks. Ed if you would remove that beautiful
brassier  Pooch can begin. I know that she can't wait to get started".

Pooch had lost the awareness of wearing the tortuous bra. Her mind had become so
focused  on what was going on around her that for a while her own body had
somehow ceased to  exist. Now that she was about to feel pain greater than she
had ever felt before and have to  inflict it on herself she wished that indeed
she did not exist.

As Ed released the locks and removed the straps the swollen purple breast flesh
came back  to life. Even though she hurt and throbbed Pooch knew this was
nothing compared to what  was coming. Could she be strong? Could she rise above
the hurt and complete the first task?  It was nothing in comparison to what she
would go through if she failed.

She would be like a  machine. She would do as commanded, after all the body she
had control over no longer  belonged to her anyway. It was the property of Marla
Devries.   Her tits released Pooch stepped off the coffee table and waddled over
to the cart. She picked  up the first pair of vise grips, grasped them in her
right hand and pointed the opening at her  left nipple. Although the jaws were
open the distance between the tips was smaller than the  width of her bud so she
used her left hand to carefully position it inside the jagged metal  clamps.
When she was sure things were just right she thought, "I have to show them that
I  will not hesitate to inflict pain on myself. I'll close the grips fast and
without hesitation". She  squeezed the locking pliers tight. For a split second
there was the satisfaction that she did it.  In the next second everything was
sharp, acute, intense and radiating pain. It was not just the  crushed nipple
that screamed but the entire left breast, arm, side and neck. This was like no 
nipple clamp she had ever worn before. With the sudden shock she almost
reflexively went  to release the clamp but caught herself and let it fall from
her grasp.

This intensified the pain  much more as the weight  of the clamp pulled down on
her tit. For once she though, "I'm  glad for the dildos or there would be a mess
on the carpet". She still had her sense of humor.  Maybe it would help. The
intense pressure had broken the skin and dots of blood seeped out  from around
the jaws. As Pooch reached for the second set of pliers the cockiness was gone 
replaced by the reality of pain and fear. This is where she had to show guts and
overcome  fear. Her hands were not nearly as steady. She took a deep breath. It
hurt so bad. The right  nipple was positioned. The clamps locked. There was
another explosion of pain. Pooch  grunted, dropped the clamp and went over to
Marla for inspection. Tears rolled down her   cheeks. Looking down at the clamps
she hoped Marla would approve them.

The right one  hung pointing a bit to the right. She knew in her heart it
wouldn't pass.

"Very sloppy job", Marla said. "Take them both off and put them back on".

As she started to reach for a clamp Marla reached out grabbed them both twisted
180  degrees and dragged Pooch back to the cart. This time she staggered back
screaming.  "You were told to do it by the cart you idiot. I should rip these
right off".

A moment of which she may have been proud had turned into one of shame.  "Start
again".

The thing with clamps is they hurt as much when removed and five times more when 
reapplied over the same spot. She got through the next minute on guts alone. She
wasn't a  machine any more. She did not rise above it. She just did what she had
to do. She did it with  unsure trembling hands and walked back over to Marla. 
"Are the clamps on all right Mistress"? asked Pooch.

"They're not great but it will do. I suggest you be less sloppy when you insert
the needles.  You don't want to be doing them again and you have to satisfy six
people not just me".

Pooch knew Marla was right. She would have to be very careful how she positioned
the  needles. That would be very difficult when she was shaking like a leaf.

She figured she  would have to rest the tip of the glowing needle on the top of
her boob and kind of slide it  around till it was in the right spot. She
wouldn't be able to just quickly shove it through but  it would go in slowly to
be certain it went through straight emerging from the bottom of the  tit in the
right spot. Over and over again she repeated in her might, "Please God give me
the  strength, please God give me the strength".

Pooch picked up the remaining pliers and using both hands to steady herself
locked them on  one of the glowing needles, about one third of the way down it's
length.

She felt the intense  heat of the coals on her hands. Slowly Pooch turned around
to face the crowed. She pulled  out the left side pliers with her left hand, As
the trembling slave brought the needle to it's  position  on the breast several
small burns had been caused by her trembling hands  Pooch let  the needle down
on her naked breast flesh, it sizzled.  Not quite right. Pooch moved the needle.
A bit more sizzle. "God give me strength".  When the spot looked right she
pushed. She was surprised how much force it took. It almost  seemed like she
would pull the nipple off before the needle would break through the skin.  The
nipple stayed on. She tried desperately tried to blank out the pain.

Smoke rose from the  hole being dug into her tit and the smell of burning girl
flesh permeated the room. The hard  core deviants making up the jury began to
get aroused.  Burning pain is like no other. It is the most intense of all pain
because it is designed to get  immediate action if you are to avoid a serious
burn. Although the nerves immediately next to  a third degree burn are killed
and don't transmit any more signals the nerves further away  from the site are
damaged less and send signals to the brain like crazy.

The pain doesn't fade  away for a very long time, even days.  With the bottom of
the needle pushing against her lower rib Pooch released the vise grips  holding
the needle. The metal no longer held enough heat to burn her ribs. It had been 
absorbed by the breast. It was funny how she couldn't feel the vise grips
crushing and pulling  her nipples any more. The mind can register only so much
hurt.  From within the excruciating pain rose another feeling. It was a feeling
of euphoria. She had  done it and she had done it well. She could pierce the
other one, she now believed again.

As  Pooch stretched her right tit her hands shook less. Only a couple of tiny
burns marked  the top of the right orb before the needle found its mark and the
odor of seared slave girl  grew more intense.  She was able to correct the path
of the needle  as it passed through her  milk gland, so that it came out on the
spot where Pooch wanted it to.  She wanted to smile, despite the agonizing pain,
but thought better of it.  "Mistress Shandra, would you please inspect the
needles to make sure they are positioned  correctly"?,  Pooch said as she knelt
in front of the madam, eyes staring at her  chubby feet.

Shandra pulled on the clamps, still attached to Pooch's nipples, to inspect the
undersides.  Then Shandra dropped them. More waves of agony passed through
Pooch's body.  "I suppose that will do", Madame  answered.

The request was repeated one more time for each juror, each time with a similar
result.  Pooch got back up on the table faced the audience and stretched out her
left tit. She was  determined to go out in triumph. She would remove the needle
slowly and sensually. It was  all planed in her mind.  Her arrogance was about
to be shattered again. As she began to pull on the needle it  wouldn't move. The
surface of the metal, pitted from the heat, had literally baked on and  adhered
to Pooch's burned tit flesh. She had to grab the bottom of the needle with her
whole  hand and yank with all her might. As the skewer emerged Pooch screamed as
she had never  screamed  before. She then collapsed on the table and writhed in
agony.

Breaking the  adhesions caused the previously cauterized wound to bleed. Pieces
of the inside of her breast  were stuck to the needle.   What was worse, Pooch
was sure she had failed the test. Triumph had turned to a desperate  depression. 
"We don't have all night. Hurry up and finish", said Marla coldly. "And don't
let any blood  drip on the carpet. You can clean it of the table later".

The whipped Pooch got back on her feet and grabbed the right needle.

This time she knew  what she was up against and pulled hard right away. Her grip
wasn't hard enough and her  hand slipped of the needle before the needle
released.  She doubled over in agony then  regained her composure and pulled
again. This time the needle released and Pooch howled  again, doubling over on
her knees.

 She had put on more of a show than she thought. There was a wet spot on every
jurors  crotch.  Pooch removed the vise grips from her crushed nipples. Marla
walked over to her with a rag  and a bottle of tea tree oil and poured the oil
over her wounds. she then held the rag over her  tits  till the bleeding
stopped. Pooch then returned the implements of torture to the cart and  went to
kneel before Greta.

 "Thank you very much for this test of my worthlessness".

Pooch bent down and kissed Greta's red hooker shoes, then returned to stand on
the coffee  table and watch the unspeakable taking place on the big screen.

Jasmine was having an eye eaten by a hungry rat in a cage attached to her once
beautiful  face. There was no more nose and large pieces of her cheeks had been
eaten away. She had  no more lips.  Sitting on the top of Jasmines bleeding and
burnt gums were two rows of sharpened spikes.  That was what her teeth had been
ground into. When Jasmine closed her mouth the spikes  would cut into the gums
on the opposite side of her mouth. Right now her head was  attached to a special
headrest on the chair that allowed no movement of her head or jaw. It  was very
tight.

Pooch thought it was her in the chair.  O, how she hurt.

"Let's move right on to the next task", spoke Marla. "Bailiff could you please
bring in the  accessories for task number two".

Ed wheeled out the cart with the implements of Pooch's first ordeal and returned
shortly  with the same cart but this time it carried two pairs of vise grips, a
staple gun, a five foot  length of electrical cord and a small piece of plywood
with an eight inch square hole cut out  of the center.

"I imagine that since you have played at being slave for the past ten years you
have received  quite a few whippings. Am I right", asked Marla? "Yes mistress",
answered Pooch.

"Well I think you are going to find this whipping a bit different from what
you've  experienced.  Jordan has found this very effective in keeping his whores
in line without  excessively marking the merchandise. Pooch, you are going to
ask to have your pussy  whipped. We all agreed that you will ask Mark to do it.
He's the big one wearing the  cowboy boots, just in case you forgot. Before he
begins, however, you are going to have to  prepare yourself. That piece of
plywood you see  on the cart is going to protect you from the  electrical cord
whipping you where we don't want to whip you. The bad part for you is that  it
is also going to expose the part we do want to whip like it has never been
exposed before.  Your friends the vise grips and the staple gun are going to
help you properly expose  yourself.  You can sit on the edge of the table,
facing the jurors, when you do the  preparation. After the bailiff removes your
panties,  Pooch, you will bring over all the props  to the table. You will then
spread your legs, nice and wide and attach both pairs of pliers to  the bottoms
of those sloppy looking pussy lips of yours. You're going to be glad their so 
long during this next part. You will place the board on your belly and pass both
pairs of vise  grips through the hole, grab them and pull those pussy lips over
the bottom corners of the  hole. That will make sure you positioned the clamps
properly.  If the fit looks good you will  then stretch each lip past the
appropriate corner with the pliers and staple it to the front of  the board then
remove the pliers. Make sure the stapler has solid contact with the flesh. If 
the staple doesn't go in all the way or one leg misses your cunt lip you will
just have to pull  it out and start over again. When the bottoms of your  pussy
lips have been attached to the  board you will reach back in through the hole
with the vise grips and repeat everything with  the upper part of the lips. When
you are finished The entire opening should be filled with  nothing but sixty
four square inches of the inside of your pussy. Your hole will have become  an
external organ. Then you will get up and go over to Mark, with the electrical
cord, and  beg him to whip your cunt with it. If your begging fails to move him
this trial will be over, so  you better beg well. After the whipping you will
thank Mark and Jordan.

You can then use  one of the vise grips to pull out the staples. When your
finished put everything back on the  cart and return to the table. Simple"? "Yes
mistress", Pooch answered.

"Bailiff, remove her panties".

Ed removed the locks on the slut strap and yanked out the dildos.

Pooch gasped.

Both holes gaped open having been spread too wide to be able to close right
away. You  could see a long way up both her cunt and ass hole.

For the first time Pooch felt naked, and her nakedness embarrassed her.

"You may as well take the cape as well", said Marla. Ed removed the cape.  "Turn
around and show everybody how your punished back looks".

Various exclamations  were heard as Pooch paraded herself to the increasingly
excited  audience.

The bare naked Pooch couldn't believe that she could still feel such shame. 
"Get started", said the judge.  How Pooch wished for some mercy. She was in such
pain from the earlier whipping and the  self inflicted breast torture. She had
been tossed away by the man she loved and felt  profound sadness in her heart. 
The torture was going to continue. Pooch new it was really  for the
entertainment of the perverts in the living room. Where they ever going to be
sated or  was the cruelty just going to continue till she could go on no
further.

She knew what  awaited her if she gave up. She had to play along with the cruel
games and pray for a better  end than Jasmine's.

It took about fifteen minutes of sweat drenched struggling to attach her most
delicate female  area to the heavy piece of plywood. Two staples had to be
pulled out of the bleeding flesh  and reshot because her hands had moved while
firing and the staples had not gone in right.  Although Pooch's labia were
somewhat distended pulling them out to cover the eight inch  opening had caused
some small tears. The most painful was in the bridge of skin between her  vagina
and anus. Pooch's sex gaped wide open.  Even the opening of her urethra was wide 
enough to accommodate a pencil. Gynecologists never had a view like this. She
now had to  get up to beg the biggest meanest man in the room to whip her most
private parts.

Slowly Pooch pushed herself up off the table and very slowly waddled over to
stand in front  of Mark. Moving caused more stretching and with no slack the
skin tore a bit more.

She dropped to her knees, legs spread wide, and thrust her hips forward while
sitting back  on her heels. Head bowed in supplication the slave spoke to her
master.

Her voice rang of  sorrow and pleading, "Please master, would you whip my
pussy".

"You must be kidding", was the mocking response. "You were told to beg, you
stupid bitch,  now BEG!!".

Pooch turned red from embarrassment. What could she say to move this monster?
"Please master, I have been a very, very bad slave and need to be punished to
correct my bad  behavior. Please whip my evil pussy hard and teach me my proper
place."  "Tell you what", said Mark, "I've got a minimum number of strokes in my
head. I want  you  to tell me how many you think you deserve. If it's less then
what I have in mind then this  show is over. If it's the same or more then
that's the number of cuts you're going to get.  Now tell me how many"? Pooch
couldn't take a chance guessing low. She would have to knowingly increase her
pain  to be safe and live.  "Please master whip my pussy fifty times".

"I don't think you've ever been pussy whipped before, cunt. The number I had in
mind was  twenty, but if you say  fifty then fifty you'll get. Get back up on
the table in the same  position you are in now except I want you leaning back so
that your elbows are on the table.  I'm going to test your composer under the
whip. If you pass out you fail. I want you to  count out loud. Losing count
causes me to start over. Scream all you want but don't dare do  anything to
avoid or block the whip. This is going to be some show".

Pooch eased her way onto the table. Ed placed a rag under her pussy to catch the
blood.

Mark stood to one side of the table. The extra height from the table put Pooch's
exposed sex  at the perfect  height to catch the lash. He wrapped the cord once
around his large hand.  Pooch prayed. Somehow she knew this would be worse than
the red hot needles.

It was.

Not only did Mark use all of his substantial strength in bringing down the lash
he made sure  he snapped it at the end of each stroke. The damage was awful.
Imagine the inside of your  stretched mouth cheek being struck by a cord
traveling at four hundred miles per hour. Each  stroke cut deep into the soft
membrane. Pooch went hysterical. By the end of the fifty  strokes her voice
could only manage a  hoarse whisper. She didn't lose count. She  stayed  awake. 
Ed came over and wiped down her swollen bleeding cunt with the antiseptic oil.
That was  even worse than the whipping. He then put pressure over her entire
pussy with a large rag   and ice bag. It took about fifteen minutes of pressure
to stop the worst of the bleeding.  Marla was upset about blood having splashed
everywhere.   Pooch thought of how the rat had destroyed Jasmine's pussy and
felt that she hadn't fared  much better as she pulled the staples out of her
flesh. She wished she had never been born.

Pooch's Story
Part 5 - The Trial (Part II)

The first two tests had brought Pooch to the very brink of loosing her mind. 
While her  intellect said obey, do exactly as your told or else the hurt will be
much worse her body only  perceived that the more she obeyed the worse the hurt
became and it was time to run away  from the pain. The urge to close  her eyes
and curl up into a tight little ball was  overwhelming.  During the short break
between tasks Pooch's intellect was able to regain a  larger proportion of
control but she feared that another task that tested her endurance to  pain
would be more than she could handle.   She would get a break from pure pain. In
its place would come pure shame.

Having been instructed in the requirements of task number three Pooch crawled
over to the  couch where the four male jurors were seated. Her back was arched
and her dangling breasts  swung from side to side with each stride. Mouth
slightly open she licked her lips and forced  a smile trying to entice the
strange men to mount her. Pooch was a bitchslave, part human,  part dog. Her
task was to get all four men to come at the same time using her entire body  but
not touching their sex organs with her hands. Most importantly they had to
convinced  that she was enjoying every minute.  Enjoyment was going to be the
last thing that she actually felt. Pooch was no slut. She was  an intensely
private person, painfully shy and ashamed of her need to be dominated. The  main
reason she had not left Ed, when she was given the opportunity,  was that she
couldn't  see herself going out into the real world and finding someone else
that could take his place.  What would people think when they saw the marks of
ten years of subjugation covering her  body. She would be too embarrassed to
expose herself to anyone else but Ed.  Now she had  to make out like a common
whore soliciting sex from strangers she could never like. The  problem was her
life depended on it so the licking tongue, swaying hips and swinging tits 
advanced forward.

As she neared the edge of the sofa Pooch leaned foreword rubbing up enticingly
against  Steve's leg with her cheek sliding up and down, sticking out her tongue
and panting softly.  She then slid her face farther up until it contacted the
surgeons crotch pushing her nose deep  into the crevice until it massaged the
very erect  penis. Getting these men aroused was not  going to be much of a
problem but how she would get all four of them off at the same time  was  still
a mystery to her.  After rubbing up against his crotch for a minute she attacked
his belt buckle with her teeth  then moving on to undue the waist band and
pulling down his zipper.

Pooch then latched on  to the top of Steve's boxers with her teeth and pulled
them down hooking them underneath  his sweaty hairy balls, exposing the excited
cock for all to see. She gave it a long slow lick  from the base of his balls to
the tip of the slimy head and then moved her performance over  to Garret.

As she moved over Pooch swallowed the precum that her tongue had picked up off
the end  of Garret's penis. The smile on her face belied the revulsion she felt.

When she pulled down  Garret's zipper and saw the yellow stain on his white
jockeys it turned her stomach. As her  tongue snaked through the fly toward his
pulsing dick she could smell the pungent smell of  urine and thought, how could
any woman possibly want to do this for a living? Softly and  carefully using
tongue and teeth Pooch pulled the rigid snake out from the protection of 
Garret's shorts. She used her lips to pull down the foreskin and ready it for
action. He  breathed heavily trying to keep himself cool and in control while
all the while he really  wanted to shoot his load into the gentle mouth he was
quickly falling in love with. The look  of desire never left Pooch's face. She
kissed the cock head then slid over to prepare Jordan.

There was nothing Jordan enjoyed more than being serviced by and dominating
white  women. With Pooch on her hands and knees prepared to expose his manhood
with her  docile mouth he was in his glory. Jordan sat on the sofa legs spread,
his body language  saying service me bitch.  Pooch had never had sex with a
black man. She didn't feel she was a racist but still she felt  that somehow
this was an another step in her degradation.  It was Jordan who had come up 
with the pussy whipping test. She hatted him.  "Lets go bitch. Show me how much
you love black cock".

Don't these guys ever wash?, thought Pooch as her mouth worked on freeing
Jordan's dick.  The mingled smells of sweat, urine and precum was turning her
stomach.

As her mouth  began inhaling the dirty dick she heard  Mark get up and pull down
his own jeans.  Apparently he had grown impatient. He moved behind her and
placed his hands on her waist.  Her rape was about to begin.

Jordan grabbed Pooch by the hair and shoved her head down on his cock gagging
her with  his dick. At the same time Mark thrust deep into the cunt he had so
savagely whipped just  minutes before. Once again Pooch was thrown into a world
of pain she dared not try to  escape. Garret climbed on top of her hips,
positioning himself ahead of Mark he pushed into  Pooches dark hole restretching
the skin just ahead of her anus that had been torn preparing  for the whipping,
Each thrust by either Mark or Garret seemed to rip her apart.  "Move it slut",
boomed Mark, "if I wanted a dead lay I'd be humping Jasmine." Agonizingly Pooch
started to move back and forth in rhythm with the two men at her rear.  Each
thrust brought a fresh jolt of ripping, tearing pain. At the other end her
ability to breath  was seriously jeopardized  by the smelly cock lodged in the
back of her throat.  "What are you going to do about Steve?", joked Jordan. "You
seems to be out of holes  bitch".

For Jordan it was funny for Pooch it was cause for more panic. What could she
do? She had  to get all four men off at once. Her mind raced. She was rewarded
with clarity. Pooch  suddenly understood what she had to do and how the previous
tasks were in preparation for  her rape.  Pooch grabbed her burning breasts with
her hands hand started slapping them together.

"I think she wants to tit fuck you Steve", said Mark. "You better get
underneath".

Steve slid his hips underneath Pooch's tortured tits. Pooch lowered her chest
and grabbed  Steve between her tits pushing them together from the side with her
hands squeezing his  throbbing cock. She started into a rocking rhythm moving
her rear back and forth her chest  up and down and her head up and down together
with her chest.

Sweat poured out of her body in response to the strain as well as the pain. She
was  exhausted.  As she sensed the men were approaching climax Pooch began to
moan. She thought she had   better fake it.

Garret and Jordan shot their loads at almost the same time. Pooch first gagged
and then  stifled a cough in a desperate attempt to contain Jordan's sperm
within her mouth. The  stifled cough sent some of his seed up and out her nose.
She tried to snort it back in.  "Mmmmm" she moaned as she swallowed the vile
load.

The two men fucking her pain centers came shortly after covering her chest with
cum and  leaving her with a dripping anus and cunt. There was a fair bit of
blood mixed with the jism  dripping from her cunt. Pooch was so relieved it was
almost over.

She crawled over to Mark and used her mouth and tongue to clean up his penis.
Jordan was  cleaned while being serviced so he was OK. Mark was cleaned next.
Garret was the nasty  one to clean up since he had been in her shit hole but at
this point Pooch didn't much mind.  Soon she had put away the blanket placed on
the carpet for her performance and returned  the coffee table to its proper
spot. Eyes on the torture of Jasmine she awaited task four.

"Did you enjoy your time with the boys?", asked Marla.

"Yes mistress, I loved serving them", came the reply.

"Would you like to fuck them again?.

"If it pleases you I would love to fuck them again".

"Well, if they decide to let you live I am sure you will get many opportunities,
but now It's  time to see if you can please the ladies. I am sure you will enjoy
servicing them as much as  you enjoyed doing the men. Now since using your hands
directly wasn't allowed when you  did the men it would only be right that they
be off limits with the ladies too. Obviously you  can use your mouth on one of
the ladies. Greta was nice enough to bring in this very special  device that she
calls her Rebel Tamer. She says one session with it will turn the toughest  man
into a whimpering docile lamb".

Marla held up a shiny black strap on dildo that was very large though not
monstrous, maybe  two and a half inches in diameter  by a foot long. On the back
end there was a rubber cup  shaped to conform to a girls crotch with a series of
thin, soft rubber fingers that would  stimulate her pussy and especially her
clit as the dildo moved back and forth. The business  end of the Rebel Tamer had
a feature Pooch had never seen before.

Running up the entire  length of the instrument were twelve pairs of rings that
looked like very thin metal washers.  There was a space of a couple of
millimeters separating the rings in each pair.

"You will notice these rings", said Marla. "As this moves back and forth in your
hole the  rings are pushed together caching and pinching any flesh caught
between them. The grip  isn't strong enough to actually cause much damage but
I'm told it feels like someone has  gone to work on  your insides with a dozen
pairs of pliers. To add to the stimulation Greta  has also brought in this
special lubricating cream mixed with avery special hot sauce. It's the  hottest
hot sauce we know of. Since it's mixed in with grease and not water soluble it
stays  were it's put for a very long time. You should find this combination
extremely stimulating.  Now, spread your cunt lips I want to see how much damage
there is.  Marla came over to examine Pooch's severely damaged vagina. Pooch
held it spread open  for examination with her finger tips.

"It looks pretty bad", said Marla. Greta is going to have to make use your ass
hole. You will  make these ladies feel very special, remember that they are your
mistresses as much as I am  when you are servicing them.  I think you should
start with your dog act and then they will  direct you from there. You can lay
the blanket down in front of Shandra.

I think she is going  to stay in her seat. Don't forget to thank the ladies when
they're finished.  I want a special  thank you for Greta. Go ahead".

With each new step in the trial Pooch was becoming increasingly humbled.

Where at first she  thought she could triumph over pain she found that the most
she could hope for was to keep  her sanity and that was a huge struggle that she
had been on the brink of loosing several  times. Her sense of shame was being
taken away from her. It was another possession, a part  of her personality, that
she was no longer allowed to have. How much more of her  personality will she be
forced to give up? She was acting like a common whore and now she  would be a
lesbian whore. Though she still felt shame she could sense this would fade with 
time and repetition. This loss added to her sadness. Physically she was
exhausted. All her  muscles ached from both the earlier beating and the recent
rape. Her breast were still on fire  and her pussy was hyper sensitive to any
stimulation at all. A raging thirst was  becoming a  focus point. She had been
sweating profusely and hadn't had a drink since the afternoon.  Pooch new that
soon her ass would be a new source of torment. It scared her because in  every
previous task tonight the consequence had been worse than she had imagined.
There  was no reason to expect that it would be any different this time.  Pooch
crawled over to Shandra, back arched tits swaying and rubbed her cheek on 
Shandra's red nylons. This was the most revolting thing that she had ever done
and it was  only the beginning.  Shandra grabbed Pooch's hair with both hands
and violently yanked her head back. Pooch  inadvertently looked into Shandra's
eyes. The madam's right hand immediately let go of her  hair and delivered a
series of three full force slaps to the slaves face. Pooch was stunned.

"What's the matter with you? Are you stupid or what?, spit out Shandra.

"You know you  never look a superior in the face!!" "I'm sorry mistress
Shandra", Pooch bawled. This was a new humiliation.

She was being  disciplined like a dog by a total stranger.

 "My shoes got a bit muddy on the way over here why don't you like the soles
clean. I don't  want your salty spit ruining the nice leather  on top". Shandra
crossed her legs. Pooch's  tongue went to work on the dirty sole. It would have
been a lot easier if she had some spit to  keep her tongue moist. After five
minutes Shandra crossed her other leg letting Pooch start  on a fresh shoe.  "I
think we may have found something you are qualified for", said Shandra.

After a  while Pooch was instructed to pull down Shandra's panty hose and
panties, using  her hands, so that they were just above Shandra's knees. The red
stained sanitary napkin  stuck to her panties  indicated that Shandra was in the
middle of her period.

 "Go over to Greta slave" Pooch moved her cheek over to Greta's beautiful
muscular leg.

Much as Shandra had done before her, Greta snatched two handfuls of Pooch's damp
hair  and pulled them up to her own face.  Pooch's eyes shot to the floor. She
had learned her lesson.    When Pooch's lips were directly in front of her own
Greta planted a long, wet and deep kiss  directly on Pooch's dry mouth. It was
the sloppiest kiss Pooch had ever received. Greta's  tongue reached for Pooch's
tonsils.  But, this was not an erotic kiss. It was a degrading kiss. The kiss of
death. It was an I can do  whatever I want to do to you, kiss. It was the kiss
of Judas. It was a kiss so overwhelming   that Pooch felt that she had just been
buried alive under a hundred feet of cement.  Greta released the kiss, Pooch
slumped back to her knees. She was in a daze. She wondered,  what had just
happened?  Greta brought Pooch back to her senses with a kick to the ribs.

The kick was hard enough to allow the metal toe on Greta's stiletto to break the
skin but not  break a rib.

"Turn your ass around, I want it facing me", ordered Greta in a stern, cold but
very clear and  distinct voice.

"Now I am going to make sure your ass hole is large enough to accept the Rebel
Tamer".

"And by the way, I wish you would do something about your breath. It smells like
shit.  Lucky I have a strong stomach or you'd be licking up puke right now".

With that Greta leaned back in the sofa and with a strong, steady push she
shoved her  stiletto heel straight into Pooch's  waiting ass hole right up to
the top. With no lubrication  the two sharp inside edges of Greta's heel cut
into Pooch's clenched sphincter. The edges  cut right into the muscle.  Pooch's
world exploded.....

She curled into the tightest, most tiny, most compact, most little ball in the
world. Her arm  buried her head underneath it. Her eyes scrunched shut tighter
than they had ever been  scrunched shut before.  And for a second,... for a
slow........ delicious...... second the pain went away.

Pooch's body had wrested control from her mind. Her intellect was now only an
observer.  Then everything went black.

The suddenness of  Greta's attack cut through every defense Pooch could raise.

First, there was the devastating kiss, then before being able to recover from
that her ass is  torn open by an attack so brutal no one in the room could
believe it happened until they saw  Greta shoving the ringed dildo into Pooch's
bloody ass hole.

"I expect my pupils to have a higher tolerance for pain", stated Greta mater of
factly. But  since she isn't yet a student maybe I can let this one pass Greta
buried the pepper sauce grease coated phallus up to the hilt in Pooch's ass. 
Maybe it was the heat that woke the slave from her blissful slumber, but
whatever it was she  was soon screaming and writhing hysterically on the carpet.

"I'm burning up!!" "Help!! " "Help me I'm burning up I cant stand it." "Help me
please," "Please help me please....." Pooch continued on wailing and begging.
She had no pride left.

For the first time in her life Pooch was totally naked for not only her body had
been striped  bare but so had her soul.  Pooch had lost.

Her mind had been replaced by a clean slate ready to be rewritten. She would do
what ever  she was told to do. Her enslavement was absolute.......

"And I bet you all thought that my little test was going to be the easy one".

Greta had a huge grin on her face. She had barely started.

She slid of the love seat and sat on her heals next to the broken slave.

Gently Greta picked up Pooch's sweat drenched head and laid it down on top of
her lap.   Her graceful, manicured fingers smoothed the tangles from her hair
and wiped the tears from  her cheeks. Slowly Pooch grew quite, her ranting
turned to sobs.

"You know there is  nothing to be done about the burning dear", Greta said in a
soft  whispery voice. "Even if I pulled out the dildo the grease would stay
inside and your ass  would still burn. The only thing that would be accomplished
is that your chance to become a  real, true slave would be lost forever. You do
want to be a good slave don't you"? "Yes mistress Greta, but it hurts so much".

"A good slave must learn to endure what ever her masters wish to subject her to.
I know  that sometimes it may be terribly hard and seem unfair but that's just
how it is for a slave. If  it was easy there would be no point. Now I am going
to hurt you very badly. Don't worry,  no matter how it may feel it will do you
no damage and it will make me feel very, very good.  Isn't that what being a
slave is all about, pleasing your mistress through your suffering"? "I guess so
mistress".

"You know how lucky you are?, Greta went on, "you were born for this.

It's a part of your  natural being you want to be a slave more than you want
anything else.

Most of my  customers don't have that advantage. They've been sold by boy
friends or by their parents or  kidnapped of the street. For them slavery is
very hard.

"Now be a good girl and bury your face in mistress Shandra's pussy and spread 
your legs  wide for me while I attach these straps to myself. Now get Shandra to
climax, I'll take care  of myself. In a few minutes the worst will be over".

Pooch obeyed Greta's instructions.   She was starting to feel very different
about herself. Greta was right, she understood. Pooch  thought, "I was born to
be a slave and my purpose is to serve the wishes of my masters. I  can't keep
thinking about myself or my fate, I have surrendered that to others. All I have
to  think about is pleasing my masters, nothing more or nothing less. If I can
do that everything  else will take care of itself".

Pooch buried her face in Shandra's snatch and it felt good.  It felt good
because it was hot.

It felt good because it was very slippery wet.

It felt good because it smelled.

It felt good because it was hard to breath.

It felt good because it was so hairy.

It felt good because all the menstrual blood.

Pooch's face belonged there. It was its natural habitat.  Her tongue reached out
to lap Shandra's pussy . She lapped it from her ass hole to the top of  her
mons. Pooch's lips found the tiny clit and quickly engulfed it, She sucked it
hard pulling  it into her mouth. It tasted salty.   Pooch winced a few times as
the torture dildo moved around a bit as Greta strapped herself  into the
apparatus. She had simply kneeled behind Pooch and lifted up her skirt. Greta
had  worn stay ups with no panties.

Pooch gasped as Greta began to withdraw, Sharp pain enveloped her insides. Her
cut anus  felt like it was being ripped wide  open. All of this additional pain
came on top of the inferno  that continued to burn the intestine. When Greta
changed direction and thrust in it was like  ten nipple clamps had been released
and then snapped back all at the same time.   The effect  again exceeded
anything Pooch could imagine. All she could do was go rigid burying her  mouth
in Shandra's muff. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't move. Would she pass out 
again? There was one profound change. Pooch felt no anger or resentment.

It was something  she had to endure, it was as simple as that.

A half minute passed and except for some muffled grunts Pooch remained frozen. 
Shandra  pulled her head back by the hair.

"Don't you have a job to do"?, she asked gruffly then shoved Pooch's face back
into her  crotch.

Pooch slowly restarted her tongue.

By  the time both women had an orgasm Pooch was a physical wreck with still two
more  tasks to go. The judge called a short recess. Ed led Pooch to the washroom
where she was  allowed to refresh herself from the toilet bowl and gather what
little strength she had left.

On returning to the living room Pooch's eyes bugged out and jaw drooped.

There stood the  two largest dogs that she had ever seen.

"I bet you can guess what the next test is going to be", said Marla in a mocking
tone. "These  beautiful animals are in greater need of relief than even their
master was. While Boner and  Clyde are guests in this house you are their slave
just as much as if they were human. As  long as you are my property you will
never assume that your status is above that of any  animal that might share this
house, don't ever forget that. You are going to service both of  these animals
while we watch. You will give both oral and vaginal sex on both animals until 
they are satisfied. It could take a while. Showing enthusiasm is vital since
pain is much less  of a factor here. To make sure the dogs go for the right hole
and don't end up burning their  dicks on the hot grease in your ass you will
wear this tail which Ed is going to insert. The tail  has a coating that smells
like a bitch in heat. It will help get Boner and Clyde in the right  frame of
mind.  You will act like a dog throughout the session".

The scene before her caught Pooch unprepared. Nothing in her imagination had
ever  included her naked in front of total strangers wearing a but plug tail and
sucking on a dogs  dick while another dog is humping her from behind.

The dogs had no such apprehension. They were a couple of Newfoundlands, very
intelligent,  even tempered and very large, easily weighing fifty pounds more
tan Pooch. The dogs  belonged to Mark who often used them in films. Intercourse
with human females was the  only sexual activity these brothers had ever known.
Their wagging tails gave away the  feeling of excitement that they felt.

Pooch got down on all fours and spread her legs waiting for Ed to insert the but
plug. Ed  put a liberal coating of the peppered grease on this new toy and
shoved it up Pooch's rectum  which still gaped open from the previous treatment.
Under normal circumstances Pooch  would have screamed in pain as the thick end
of the plug dilated her dark hole and reopened  previous wounds but in the
context of what she had been through this pain was  tolerable.  As Ed returned
to his chair to watch Pooch began to crawl towards the dogs. Her tongue  hung
out of her mouth as she panted in doggy fashion. The dogs started toward her.
They all  met in the center of the room.  Boner, the more dominant of the pair,
went straight to Pooch's up thrust posterior sniffing  licking and growing
increasingly more excited. In response Pooch spread her legs wider  hoping to
entice the huge dog to mount her. At the same time she slowly crawled toward 
Clyde. The stage was set for the slave girl to do what only hours ago she would
have rather  died than do. Her tongue thrust from her open mouth and began to
lick Clyde's flaccid penis.  As Clyde began to grow  Boner 's forelegs landed on
Pooch's whipped back eliciting a gasp  from her. The dogs long pink penis
searched for the hole then found it.

In the mean time  Clyde's shaft had left the protection of its sheath filling
Pooch's mouth.  Boner began to thrust into his new mate at a faster and faster
rate, much faster than any man  had fucked her. Her cunt hurt because of the
earlier whipping, so any real enjoyment was  impossible, yet as abhorrent as her
actions were this wasn't nearly as bad as she had feared.  Her mouth and tongue
aggressively worked on Clyde feeling his member stiffen and tense.  Both dogs
came at almost the same time filling both of Pooch's ends with copious amount of 
dog cum. Pooch also faked orgasm in an attempt to convince the audience that she
was truly  enjoying the moment.

Pooch had to swallow twice to empty her mouth of the dog sperm. When Clyde
pulled out  she continued to lick the dogs cock and balls till the dog turned
around  and started to lick  her face and mouth.  Pooch was touched by the
gentleness of the big animal opening her  own mouth to French the big animal.
Boner, in the other end, stayed put.

Pooch could feel  his penis grow larger as the dog knotted. In nature this
action helped to ensure that the  sperm wouldn't leak out thus increasing the
likelihood of fertilization.

Five minutes passed  before the dog separated from his bitch. During this time
Clyde regained his masculine  strength and awaited his turn at the strange dogs
pussy.

Pooch wondered whether animal love would be the only love she would receive if
she were  allowed to live in Marla's world.

After a couple more turns at Pooch's mouth and pussy the dogs lost interest.
Pooch was  directed back to her position on the coffee table.

Like Jasmine on the video screen Pooch felt more dead than alive. She had
endured more  pain and humiliation than she had ever thought possible. What more
could they do to her? "I have to admit that I didn't think you would make it
this far", commented Marla. "There is  just one last task to go and then it's up
to the jury. Bailiff, would you please bring in the  chair".

Ed returned carrying a red velvet, high backed arm chair. It was a very special
chair it's  function was immediately understood by anybody that saw it. The
chair was missing the seat  cushion, instead an oak toilet seat took its place.
There was also a pair of wrist cuffs  attached near the top of the front legs.

"What do you think this last task is going to be Pooch?", asked her mistress.

Pooch's face went red  in humiliation, still she knew that she had better
answer.

"People are going to go to the bathroom on me mistress?", she whimpered.

"Not quite", answered Marla. "It's much more intimate. Try again".

"People are going to go in my mouth, mistress", said Pooch in despair.

"That's better", said Marla. "Your mouth is going to be used  as a toilet and
your belly will  be the receiving tank. After watching you clean up the playroom
floor earlier I think this will  be a breeze for you. You will, of course 
swallow everything put in your mouth and keep it  down. I understand that your
stomach has a limited capacity so if more than two people shit  in your mouth
you will be allowed to throw up in a bucket, otherwise you will keep it all in.  
Anybody shitting will squeeze off the turds into mouthfuls for you so you better
not let  anything fall on my carpet and you better swallow fast. I don't think
anybody wants to be  touched by your dirty, dog loving, shit eating mouth so
there is a funnel at the front of the  seat to pee in with a hose that you will
put in your mouth to collect the pee. Now go lie  down on your back under the
chair and place your wrists on the straps so you can be locked  in".

As Ed secured the slaves wrists to the chair legs the depth to which she had
fallen sunk into  her consciousness. Only a few hours ago she was Ed's slave
lover, comfortable and secure in  her position. Now she was the property of a
woman that she hated with a status below even  that of a dog. She was a human
toilet and even that had to be fought for.

Pooch could hear the jurors discussing as to who should go first, It ended up
being Mark.  He sauntered over to the special chair, pulled down his pants and
sat down on the chair.  Pooch had the best view of a mans ass  that she had ever
had in her life. It was not a pretty  sight.  "I've been saving this just for
you cunt", Mark said.

A thick hard dark turd began to emerge from Marks ass heading straight for
Pooch's gaping  mouth. As he squeezed off the first piece Pooch had somewhat
more than a mouthful of the  acrid shit. She extended her lips to surround  the
piece and keep any from falling on the  floor. She bit of a piece and swallowed.
Immediately her stomach reacted trying to bring up  the vile turd. It took all
of her concentration to keep it down.

Quickly, she knew` there was  little time, Pooch bit off the second piece and
swallowed. The third swallow finished the first  mouthful. It was just in time
as Marks ass hole opened up again expelling the next load.  Again her mouth was
filled with excrement and again Pooch struggled to move it into her  rebellious
stomach. Mark dumped two more loads into her mouth, more than a large meal. 
Pooch's belly was nearly full.

"I'm going to piss now", Mark exclaimed.

A heavy stream of urine cascaded down the tube into Pooch's mouth from Mark's
beer  engorged bladder. It just kept coming and coming. The human toilet could
barely keep up.  Finally it stopped. Marked wiped his ass with toilet paper and
shoved that into Pooch's  mouth. She swallowed that too.

Pooch tried to relax her stomach and get it to convince herself that what she
had swallowed  was not a big deal but her stomach continued to spasm. How she
would handle the next load  she didn't know.

Shandra's naked ass hole stared at Pooch's face next. She was also going to
shit.

To Pooch this was an even more disgusting assault than Mark's. She was a woman
on her  period. Her ass smelled awful even before she shit. When her sphincter
opened out flowed a  loose, light brown mass that required almost no chewing.
The shit just oozed out of  Shandra's ample ass. It flowed like molasses out her
hole and into Pooch's waiting mouth.  The bitterness dried up any saliva that
she left in her mouth.  The only way that this river of  shit moved down her
throat was because she knew that if she didn't swallow she would be  tortured to
death.  Pooch would have preferred red hot needles through her tits to this. The 
stream of urine that followed was almost a relief. The toilet paper that went
into her mouth  was also covered in menstrual juice. This coated Pooch's tongue
in red.

Desperately she  tried to blank from her mind what she was doing in the hope of
easing the distress in her  stomach. If only her stomach wasn't so full.

Garret was next to step up to the plate. As his naked bottom stared at Pooch's
bottom he let  go of a major fart. Nothing followed from his shit hole but a
long stream of urine flowed  from Garret's beer filled balder. The stream seemed
to go on forever getting harder and  harder for Pooch to swallow as her belly
distended from all the excrement.

Pooch kept remembering that if more than two people were going to defecate into
her  mouth she would be allowed to puck into a bucket to make room. How she
needed that  bucket. It didn't come. What did come was another stream of pee
from Steve' dick. It  brought Pooch to her physical limit. The end of his stream
just lay in Pooch's mouth, there  was just no room to swallow.   Ed rested a
large plastic bucket on the quivering slaves throbbing breasts. its lip resting
just  under her chin.  "Go ahead", he said.

Up came the most horrid mixture of chunky shit, liquid shit, piss and stomach
acids. Ed's  stomach turned as he caught a whiff of the odor that began to
permeate the room. He felt  sorry for the poor girl. Marla didn't.

"That's enough", Marla said. "She's made enough room. Close the bucket before we
all get  sick".

Ed dragged the edge of the bucket over Pooch's chin and lower lip scraping up
some of the  vomit that had landed there. He placed the lid back on the pail and
quickly carried it out of  the room.

Jordan was in no rush to head over to the special chair. He really didn't have
to go. The fact  was that he just didn't want to deprive himself of this
opportunity to defecate directly into a  woman's mouth. Eventually  his big
black butt was parked over the slave girls face. Jordan  strained to release his
load.

Pooch felt relieved after emptying most of her stomach's contents into the
bucket though her  stomach was still uneasy. There was the added misery from
some of the vomit having  entered her nose and sinuses. The awful fluid was all
she could taste and smell.  Jordan succeeded in only producing a small stool
that Pooch managed to consume in a few  swallows. The stream of urine that
followed was far more copious, but the newly made  space in her stomach handled
it easily. Jordan's small deposit had saved Pooch's life.

Only Greta remained. She pulled up her tight skirt, spread her magnificent
cheeks apart with  her hands and sat down. Her skin was clear and unblemished.
The buttocks were  simultaneously firm and yet soft and inviting. The luxuriant
fur surrounding her sex begged  to have someone's face nestled in it.  Her
brownie was small yet well defined and dark.  Pooch couldn't understand what was
going on inside of her. What she felt was not revulsion.  as she looked up at
the dominatrix's posterior, but eager anticipation.

Was it because her  ordeal was almost over, or was it something else.

Greta's small puckered ass hole began to open up exposing the tip of a large,
well formed  chocolate brown turd. The slaves eager tongue came out to great it
and help guide it past  her eager lips into her mouth. As Greta squeezed of the
first piece Pooch's lips extended out  to surround it. Her tongue caressed  the
sides feeling the semi firm texture and tasting the  sweet bitterness which was
somehow no longer revolting. Pooch didn't even notice that her  stomach had
stopped churning. She did notice that all the awfulness  of the previous
deposits  had been replaced by the taste of Greta. She was able to swallow her
with no more difficulty  than she would have had swallowing a banana.   Greta
mentioned to the audience that she believed in a high fiber diet so she
generated turds  that were very substantial. The load being ejected from her
bottom seemed to go on and on  more than making up for Jordan's small deposit.
By the time she was finished Pooch's belly  was once again filled. The stream of
golden urine that followed once again brought Pooch to  the bursting point only
this time she felt satisfied instead of sick.

Watching Greta clean  herself with the toilet paper Pooch found herself wishing
that she could perform the task  herself using her own tongue.

None of Pooch's behavior was lost on Marla.

"Bailiff would you please hang the slut from the ceiling in the playroom while
the jury  deliberates it's decision. I don't want to take any chance of her
escaping or killing herself",  ordered Marla.

Pooch's Story
Part 6 The New Order

The only sound heard in the darkness was the occasional creak of the wooden beam
that bore the weight of  a Pooch suspended between life and death. The events of
the past few hours had changed her life forever.   Obedience that had come, deep
down, from the love of her master had been replaced with obedience that  came
from the fear of the consequences of disobedience. The part of her heart that
had been filled with love  and contentment was now vacant. Where there had been
trust that her master would never go to far because  he loved her now she was in
the hands of people that were not even sure that she should be kept alive. This 
part of her heart was now also taken over with fear. The last vestiges of human
dignity had been cruelly  stripped from her. The men and women now deciding her
fate had found pleasure in watching her beg for  her life through the
performance of the most degrading acts imaginable.

She had been told, in no uncertain  terms that in the hierarchy of life her
status was somewhere below that of an animal. The friendships she had  made with
the people at work were over. She would never see them again.

Instead she would see only  people that enjoyed hurting her with no love as
compensation. In every picture, that her imagination  conjured up of the future,
she was crying and there was no one to wipe away the tears.  Ed would have never
left Pooch alone hanging by her wrists for such a long time.  The feeling in her
hands  was just about gone replaced by ever increasing pain in the shoulders. 
All the salt in the urine she had consumed dehydrated her body creating a
tremendous thirst. Her bladder  was now filled to overflowing  and she was just
too weak to hold back the stream that found its way down  her legs. Pooch winced
as some of the pee wet her raw pussy stinging the torn up flesh. She knew Marla 
would be pleased.

Upstairs  the conversation centered around experiences with other slaves,
methods of disciple, levels to  which slaves had been pushed and other fun
things. The decision that Pooch had great potential as a slave in  a fully non
consentual bondage situation had been made even before all her tasks had been
completed.  Everyone thought that she had shown tremendous self control when
confronting physical pain. She had  shown creativity in her own debasement when
servicing the four men. When driven to the psychological  breaking point by
Greta she was quickly able to reconstruct an altered personality that allowed 
her to  continue and even be stronger. The control she showed over her own body,
after being tortured and debased  to the point of exhaustion, when forced into
being a human toilet, impressed  everybody. If Marla was  looking for a slave
that could be pushed to the limits of human tolerance she had found  one. Pooch
could be  taken past her breaking point and then, like the Phoenix, rise from
her own ashes. Marla thought to herself  that what a fool Ed had been to posses
this creature for ten years and barely scratch the surface of her  subservience.
Marla was determined to squeeze the last ounce of blood out of her. It would be
so much fun.

Marla was in no hurry to let Pooch of the hook. She knew that her tortured toy
must be in both physical, and  more importantly, mental anguish. Marla imagined
that the lingering passage of time in the solitary blackness  of the playroom
would be playing on her mind making her feel that the jurors were having a
difficult time  determining her fate and that the possibility of a very painful
and slow death was very real. It was nearly five  in the morning when Pooch was
led back into the makeshift courtroom, clasped in irons, and instructed to 
kneel before Marla. All was quiet.  Pooch's heart could be seen to be pounding
in  her chest from twenty feet away. She remembered every  mistake she had made,
her blackout. Had she shown enough enthusiasm? "O God", she thought,
"there were  all sorts of reasons for which they could fail her".

Marla broke the silence.

"I know the jury's decision and have listened to their recommendations.

They really have a lot of experience  in these maters. I can assure you that
this is not a decision that was made easily". Marla knew that this 
phrasing would make Pooch feel doomed.  "After long deliberation the
decision of the jury is that despite the disobedience, lying and totally 
unsatisfactory performance in the past you show sufficient promise to allow you
to continue living as a  slave".  O God thank you, Pooch thought to
herself. She was momentarily elated.

Marla continued.

"Before you start celebrating I suggest you pay close attention to the rest
of what I have to say.  Your  behavior when serving Ed was disgraceful. You
virtually mocked his authority over you and you will be  punished severely for
that. You have shown that you cannot be trusted when not watched so I will be 
instituting measures that will keep you under surveillance at all times.

You will also be under some form of  restraint at all times and you will not be
allowed off this property except for reasons of extreme necessity at  which time
you will be securely bound. One of those times will be when you visit Steve's
surgical clinic for  extensive physical modifications.  When no one is here to
watch you, you will be confined to the pit. That's  the punishment you earned
for your past misbehavior. As you know I work as a lawyer. My job revolves 
around laws and rules. I have an affinity for them. During the next couple of
days I will produce a  preliminary set of rules which you will learn by heart.
With time new rules will be added. You will live by  those rules. Any violation
will be punished. You will be asked to confess any violations which have not
beam  caught by someone else on a daily basis. Remember that you will be under
constant surveillance. If you lie  during confession the punishment will be
tripled. I will not tolerate a lying slave. You are not a part of this  family.
You do not eat with us, you do not sleep with us, you do not share our
affection. You are simply my  property. To help you remember that you are a
thing and not a person you will refer to yourself in the third  person from now
on. Do you understand what I mean"? "Pooch understands mistress",
she answered in the correct manner.

"Remember you are here to serve. Don't expect any reward for perfect
service because that is the minimum  that I expect from you. However you should
expect severe sanctions for imperfect service. I have a great  imagination and
my imagination is not going to be your friend. Since you will not be leaving
this property  any more you have no need for clothing. Gather up every stitch of
cloths that you have and put them in the  cardboard box that you'll find in the
kitchen. They will be given to the needy. You will go naked at all times, 
except for maybe some specialty items I might get for you in the future.

Now go".

Pooch hurried as best she could considering her ankles, wrists, and waist were
connected by chains. She  wondered if this was what Marla meant when she had
said that Pooch would always be in restraints. Being  chained made everything
slower and more difficult. The chains  were heavy and tiring. They made reaching 
above the waist very difficult. She would have to rush around looking for things
to stand on so that she  could reach a hanger in the closet or a candle in the
middle of a kitchen table. Pooch also had to keep the  chains from touching
anything and making scratches and noise. Since her ankles were hobbled Pooch
could  only make quarter steps so it would take four times longer to get
anywhere. In order to accomplish anything   in a reasonable time she had to run
so in no time at all her shins would be bleeding  from the constant  abrasion
against the Coarse edges of the rusted manacles. The constant rubbing of the
rough iron on an open  wound leads to tremendous pain that only gets worse as
the wound is cut deeper. This is the type of  maddening pain that she would have
to endure. The worst part about this pain was that to the outsider it  looks
like something very minor and she is not allowed to either do something to stop
the cutting or let it  effect her performance. Her legs have to be kept spread
when walking and standing so that the chain doesn't  drag on the floor.  She is
expected to move just as fast as she could before being cut. When you are in 
manacles you walk as little as possible. Manacles are considered light restraint
here.  Pooch knew where everything was so she didn't have to search for
anything. When she returned with a half  full box and Marla had asked if that
was all?, Pooch answered that it was everything. She really hadn't had  much
clothing anyway. Marla asked her if she was sure? Now Pooch knew that she had
been trapped.  "Marla  knows about something I missed and now she is going
to get me for lying and failing to complete my  assignment", thought Pooch,
"and I have been serving her for less than fifteen minutes. My ass is
really  cooked", she thought.  "Why aren't you kneeling?", Marla
asked.

Pooch thought about how she should answer. Should she state the truth and say
that it was because she  didn't know she was supposed to kneel now and sound
argumentative. Or should she just apologize for  forgetting and take what would
probably be a minor punishment? Before she could make up her mind what to say
Marla half shouted "too late"! "What the hell are you doing?.
Making up some lies?, Maybe I should come back in an hour? Marla hissed.

"When I ask a question I expect to get an answer as soon as my lips stop
moving. DO YOU  UNDERSTAND!!!!!!!!!", Marla screamed loud enough for
everyone within a block to hear. "Go downstairs  and bring up the Singapore
cane. You know, the two handed one sitting in the brine bucket. I noticed  your
rear end has been barely touched so I'm going to do something about it".

Pooch was terrified. It wasn't so much the prospect of being caned, rather it
was Marla's severity and ability  to find fault with her every action. She had
to believe that the discipline Marla would administer would be as  harsh as her
attitude and between her ability to find fault and her eagerness to punish,
Pooch would be living  in a perpetual hell.  As Pooch hurried to fetch the cane
the magnitude of Marla's other pronouncements began to sink in. Ed had  put her
in the pit only once. It was a couple of days that she would never forget.. Ed
thought the pit would  be a good place to leave Pooch while he entertained a
girlfriend upstairs. it was totally sound proof so Pooch  could not signal her
existence to anybody. She would be out of his way the whole weekend. Feeling a
bit  cruel Ed made Pooch jump down into the pit Friday morning before leaving
for work instead of after  returning, even though he would have been home hours
before his girlfriend got there.

Pooch heard Ed push the lid bolts into the holes in the concrete walls.

That was the last sound from the  outside world that Pooch would hear for the
next 68 hours. Because the pit was so narrow she scraped her  knees, elbows,
shoulders, nose and forehead against the cement walls.

There wasn't enough room to sit  down. The best Pooch could do was lean back
against one wall with her ass against it and then slide down  until her knees
wedged  against the opposite wall. This got very uncomfortable after only a few
hours. The  air became grimy from being breathed in and out repeatedly. The bad
air, quiet, and physical exhaustion  made Pooch want to just lie down and sleep
but she couldn't. Her body soon began to ache. First it was her  back, because
the position she was in kept it arched almost all the time. Then her knees and
hips started to  hurt from the pressure of being wedged against opposite walls.
Time passes so slowly in such a place. You  can't sleep. You have no clues to
help you gauge time. After only thirty hours Pooch thought she had been  in the
pit for a week and Ed had abandoned her to die there. She was literally in her
grave. A total panic  began to engulf her. It was a panic that haunted her for
the remaining thirty-eight hours that she would be in  the pit. As the pit
stayed closed her mind told her that the longer the door stayed shut the less
chance there  was that it would ever open. She started to do crazy things like
start spinning around hoping that she could  make herself so dizzy that she
would pass out, surely when she recovered this would all be behind her. It 
didn't work. It only made her hotter, wasted the air and made her more tired.
Then she thought that  she could use up all the air be continually jumping up
and down. She would use up the air faster than any  fresh air got through the
cracks and pass out or die. Right then she would have welcomed either one. She 
was sufficiently used to far worse pain to ignore the hunger but there was no
way to ignore the thirst. Pooch  was so dry it hurt to breath. Her eyelids stuck
to her eyeballs. She hadn't succeeded in using up all the air  but she had lost
a lot of water. When Ed opened the pit on Monday Pooch was rolling her head
around on  her shoulders. Her eyes seemed to be taped open. She didn't have the
strength to raise her arms so that Ed  could lift her out.  Ed never put her
back in.  What body modifications did Marla have in mind? Would she tell her
before they were done? Pooch was  afraid of being irreversibly mutilated.

Back in the living room Marla mentioned to Greta how she had noticed that Pooch
had fallen for her.

"You understand that I intend to totally smash Pooch's ego and I don't
think it's helpful that she have any  warm and fuzzy feelings towards anybody. I
want her empty of any comforting thoughts".

"I think that I can change her attitude pretty quickly", responded
Greta. "Would you let me apply the cane?  I'm sure I can make her never
want to see me again".

"Sure you can. I always like to learn from the best and from what I've been
told you are the best".

"You're making me blush", answered Greta. "If you notice the way
I operate the most important thing is to  always keep the slave off balance. If
she doesn't know what to expect then she can't prepare herself and her  own
imagination becomes her worst enemy. Her own imagination will turn the edge of a
ribbon running  across her back into the blade of a knife cutting her apart.
Just think of what her imagination can do if you  really are cutting her
apart".  Everybody laughed.

Pooch returned with the cane and promptly kneeled before Marla. She had heard
the laughter. It made her  feel even more uncomfortable.

"Bring the cane to your girlfriend Pooch", Marla said in a soft voice.

"We all saw how your mouth made  love to her turds. You could hardly wait
for the next mouthful".  Again everybody laughed as Pooch turned crimson. 
"Look everyone she's blushing. Isn't that just so cute".

Pooch was deeply humiliated by the comments made while bringing the cane over to
Greta.  "Love hurts" "You always hurt the one you love".

She knelt before Greta's perfect legs, holding out the cane for her to take,
careful to keep her eyes cast  down to Greta's feet.  Ed removed the chains.

"Nice cane", Greta commented To Marla. "It's got a nice heft and
yet it's still springy. Where did you get  it"? "At Maxis Leather shop
over on Charles Street. They only carry the best", answered Marla.

"Has this been used on her before?", asked Greta.

"Not yet. Ed and I thought we would hold on for a special occasion".

"This is her first disciple session since you became her owner, it is a
special occasion. You know Marla  maybe you should do this I don't feel
right".

"Don't worry about it. I'll haveplenty of opportunities with her", 
answered Marla. I'm just going to sit back  and watch a professional".

"Thanks, I'll try not to disappoint you".

"O, I'm sure you won't". Marla went on, "Pooch would have
received five strokes for her delay in  answering me but since she spent that
time thinking about a lie to tell me she will get fifteen. I am  determined to
cure her of this problem that she seem to have. The sooner she is cured the
better off she will  be. You will do what Greta tells you to and when she's
finished I expect you to thank her for disciplining  you".

Pooch was just mortified about how they talked about her and her punishment as
if she wasn't there.

"Take my shoes of dear", Greta said, "and I really enjoy getting
my feet kissed when they come off.  Remember that if you serve me in the future.
You know that you just can't get a good swing when you're  balancing on high
heels".

Gently each shoe was removed and set aside. As the shoes came off each nylon
clad foot received a sincere,  slow kiss. Pooch was still mesmerized by this
woman, She just didn't understand why.

Greta stood up from her seat beside Shandra. She adjusted her tight skirt.

"Would you kneel here on the cushion that I was just sitting on, your knees
and thighs against the seat back  and your waist over the top of the seat back.
Good. Now spread your knees a little bit, about a foot, but  keep your feet
together. I don't think it's right for a slave to have her knees together even
if her pussy isn't a  target.  That's good, now bend right over the back rest
and try to touch the floor with your fingers.

SWICCHHH, the cane sung in the hands of the professional and crashed without any
warning with a  sickening TWAK!, not across the slaves posterior but across the
arches of both her feet, that had lain  perfectly positioned on the front edge
of the seat cushion. It had been a two handed stroke delivered with  perfect
accuracy. The quickness had made everyone in the room flinch in surprise.

Pooch let out a horrific scream. Her arms began to reach back instinctively, to
grab her smashed feet, when  the cane screamed again painting a stripe across
both Pooch's shoulders setting them ablaze in white heat.  The blow knocked her
back down into position, stunning  the slave and causing her mind to loose every 
thought, except for the pain. Even her voice was silenced. The stroke of the
cane across her shoulders, had  inflicted deep muscle bruising in both
shoulders. The skin immediately went purple from bleeding in the large  muscles.
When she tried to pull back her shoulders the whole area between the shoulder
blades erupted into  a blaze of pain that was well above what she could stand.
Her mind went into overload. Her feet felt as  though they had doubled in size.
They throbbed with every beat of her heart and she just couldn't let  anything
touch them again.  "I didn't say you could move", Greta lectured in a
cold steady voice.

"How do you think this works? I hit  you and you go cover up? I think you
know better then that. You're really lucky that I was able to stop you  before
you were able to touch your feet or I am sure your owner would have called for a
lot of extra  strokes".

"You know that Greta is right", added Marla. "If you would have
touched your feet I would have ordered  twenty more. It's very important that
you learn self discipline. We won't count that stroke across the  shoulders
since it was a preventative measure. I think you should thank Greta for her
quick action".

"Thank you very much for stopping Pooch from doing a bad thing mistress
Greta", Pooch whimpered in a  trembling voice.

"It's the least that I could do for someone who loves my shit so
much", Greta answered back. You do love  to eat my shit don't you"?
"Yes mistress Greta". Pooch's feelings of humiliation kept escalating
to new levels.

"Do you love to drink my pee too"? "Yes mistress Greta".

"Do you love to eat everybody's shit and piss or just mine." The
nightmare for Pooch kept getting more and more terrifying. She was trapped again
not knowing how to  answer this question. She had learned to answer right away.
Pooch chose the truth this time.

"Pooch just loves your shit and piss mistress Greta".  "That's
not good", said Greta. "A slave should love the gifts that come from
any of her masters. I  think  your new owner will be looking into correcting
this attitude problem of yours. Come over and take off my  skirt. If I would
have known that I would be so active tonight I would have worn looser fitting
clothing.  This tight skirt of mine is still keeping me from getting a good
stroke and we don't want to short change you  on your correction now do
we"? It had taken only two strokes of the Singapore cane to nearly cripple
Pooch. Her arms hung limp from her  shoulders while the pain in her feet showed
no signs of subsiding. She straightened her back and proceeded  to slide her
knees of the front of the sofa careful to stay off her feet.

Greta changed her tone from one that had shown some compassion to one of loud,
heartless, anger. "On  your feet you pathetic shit lover!! If your looking
for sympathy you won't get any from me!!  YOU MAKE  ME SICK!!! If I thought that
you wouldn't love eating it so much I'd puke right now.  Pooch tried to put some
weight on her feet only to fell them pierced by a hundred needles. She gasped
from  the pain but knew she had better obey. With tortured steps she made her
way around to the back of the love  seat were Greta was standing. Careful not to
move her shoulders she undid the snap and zipper of Greta's  skirt and pulled it
down revealing Greta's hairy snatch. Greta steeped out of the skirt, Pooch
folded it and  laid it down on the coffee table.  "You really stink",
taunted Greta. Did you piss yourself when you were downstairs"? "Yes
mistress Greta". Pooch was now bawling like a baby. It was one thing to
handle the physical abuse but  this constant humiliation was too much to bare.

"That's just another thing that I will have to deal with tomorrow",
said Marla.

"I think that in that case you better not go back on the couch. Somebody
spread some newspaper on the  coffee table". Greta asked.  "I want you
on all fours on the newspaper, knees apart and feet together hanging  over the
edge of the table like you were when you were on the couch. Got that"?
"Yes mistress Greta".

"Can anybody else smell this old used up scum bag or is it just me?, asked
Greta.

A volley of disparaging comments followed the weary slave on her way to the
table. She walked to the table  carefully and slowly. She knew that kneeling
doggy style would force back her shoulders to the position in  which they were
in the most pain. Her feet had swollen a lot though not double. She did not look
forward to  getting at least  fourteen more strokes of the cane from this mad
woman.

To Pooch, Greta now seemed to  be out of her mind. There was just no way to
figure out what she would be doing next, or what her  demeanor would be.  Pooch
began to think that her sentence of slavery for life was a fraud.

She began to  think that they had really decided to kill her and weren't telling
her in order to make it easier to keep her  under control. In a way she was now
cooperating in her own death. She was doing it because not  cooperating would
make things even worse. Pooch believed more and more that she only had a short
time to  live. The fear of death that griped her mind held her more tightly than
the thought of the fourteen remaining  strokes. She was a weird one. She was
more afraid of dying than anything else. The fear was so strong that  right now
at this moment of agony she would choose eternal, non stop, foot canning over
death.  As the strokes were laid on Pooch would begin to reconsider.

Greta was going to apply the cane over Pooch's  rear end starting at the line
between the tips of the pelvic  bone down to the backs of her knees. She would
work her way down trying to get all the lines parallel to  each other. Crossing
lines led to a lot of bleeding with no additional pain. With the force that
Greta would  get out of each stroke there would be bleeding even without cross
strokes. She had to remember to cut the  force on the stroke to the back of the
knees or Pooch wouldn't be able to stand for a month, if ever.  She swung the
cane like a home run hitter in baseball going for the wall. It was a long swing,
the batter  stepping into the ball or in this case, the slaves ass. It was the
only area Greta could really abuse without  permanently damaging, and even on
Pooch's ass the damage would be substantial.

When Pooch heard the whistle of the cane she had no idea where it would land.
She tensed her whole body,  She heard the slap of the rattan cane as it
connected in a line across the tops of her hips. It sent the  maximum pain
message possible racing up her spine. It didn't matter where the cane came down,
the effect  would be nearly the same.  For any one of the lashes Pooch received
that early morning a normal person would have run wailing to the  nearest
hospital emergency room. Pooch had to take thirteen more and not move at all,
and after they were  finished they would probably humiliate her some more. Was
it possible to humiliate her more, she thought?  They would then deposit her in
the pit where she would go insane and die, because, she fantasized,  they had 
no intention of letting her out again.    Pooch's fear of the pit was almost as
great as her fear of death since in her mind the one relentlessly led to  the
other. Like the cruelest of jokes this terror kept a large part of her mind from
being occupied with the  pain of the canning and helped her get through it. 
There was also the very, very small part of her mind, a part that she was not
even conscious of, that watched  Greta perform with all the grace and skill of a
magnificent athlete. The image of the tall Amazon straining to  get the most out
of every muscle  and maximize every brutal stroke, naked from the waist down
except for  her black hose, was wildly erotic.  This first stroke across the
uppermost boundary of what would be considered her ass bit into flesh that was 
not heavily padded. The force, instead of being absorbed by fat and muscle, was
absorbed by tendon and  bone. The first sensation was not unlike an electrical
shock followed by a duller pain that started high and  kept on building. When
she reflexively clenched her buttocks the pain turned dagger like. There was no 
scream, as might have been expected only a grunt that like the clenching was
reflexive. Pooch's voice was  now almost gone anyway as was nearly all her
strength. The best she could do was to start to tremble. Her  sobbing was
continuous.

Greta was in no rush to take the next swing. Experience told her that a cane
such as the one she was using  created a pain curve that kept increasing for
more than a minute. She would make sure that every one would  be felt to the
maximum. Instead she would use the time to talk to her victim.  "So that's
the second time tonight that you pissed yourself and you shit yourself too. At
your age I would  think that you would be toilet trained. Do you think that you
were adequately toilet trained as a child? "Yes mistress".

"Well if it's not your toilet training, then what could it be? Have you
been getting too much to drink"? "No mistress", answered a
parched Pooch.

"You now I have a pet dog and she would sometimes go in the house as a sign
of defiance. Are you being  defiant Pooch"? Before Pooch could respond the
next lash struck home eliciting the reflexive gasp and clench. This time  there
was more meat though it still was not very deep. The muscle was severely crushed
between the cane  on top and bone beneath. The skin broke in many spots along
the cane line, going purple in just seconds.  droplets of dark blood oozed out
of the tiny breaks.  After just two strokes on her ass the  large muscles of 
her buttocks were rendered useless. Any tightening brought on those daggers of
pain. Twelve to go.

"Well answer me cunt. Are you being defiant"? "No mistress",
Pooch whimpered barely audibly.

"It must be old age then. You've become incontinent. I guess your mistress
is going to have to keep you in  diapers. Do you think that could be the
solution dear? Do you need to wear diapers? "No mistress". Pooch had
to struggle to get out the words, Her breathing was labored.

"I'm at a loss then. You say you've been toilet trained. You haven't been
drinking too much. You haven't  been defiant and you aren't incontinent. The
only thing I can think of then is that you have no self control".   Greta
paused to let the pain build. "That has to be it. You have no self
control".  And the cane whistled through the air again this time digging
into much more fleshy ass meat just above the  level of her anus.  This time the
extra cushioning kept the skin from breaking though the welt and color  change
was still almost instantaneous. Greta stood back to admire her handiwork. Each
stripe stood at least  a quarter inch high above the surrounding skin. The
coloring followed every nook and cranny of the cane,  presenting almost a
photographic image of the instrument on her skin.

The lines were indeed parallel to each  other and evenly spaced. Swelling of
Pooch's posterior had begun.

"Self control can be taught you know. All that you have to do is impress
upon the subject the consequences  of the lack of self control", Greta went
on. "I'm really quite a good teacher. Would you like me to  teach
you"?  Why  was she being tormented like this, Pooch thought. Why didn't
Greta just finish the whipping and  leave  her to her suffering? Her rear end
was ablaze and she knew the fire would only spread. She also knew that  there
was no escape, she might get more than the number stated but there was no chance
she would get less.   "No mistress", Pooch managed to whisper.

"You at least didn't lie. Maybe you are capable of learning", Greta
went on. "Too bad for you that you don't  get a choice in the matter. You
don't seem very talkative".

Once again a shock raced up her spine as the cane left a fourth line right
across the two outcroppings of  her  pelvic bone that formed her seat and her
anus. Pooch actually saw a flash of light just before feeling the fresh  jolt of
pain. She now depended exclusively on her arms to maintain her position. She no
longer controlled  her legs. Her buttocks twitched in a random pattern as
injured nerves fired beyond her control.  Pooch  stopped breathing as she tried
to hold her self together.

"Now if you hadn't thought about fibbing to your mistress the punishment
would now be over. Instead you  now have to pay the price for your
deceitfulness. You will learn that it is always better to be honest and take 
your medicine than try to hide something from your mistress. You can't blame
anyone but yourself for the  rest of this session".

The next two strokes also caught part of the slaves pussy lips which protruded
between the two globes that  made up her ass. Breathing was now made up of
irregular gasps.  "Move your knees together for the rest of your
punishment", Greta ordered.

Agonizingly Pooch used the muscles of her inner thighs to obey. Both globes were
now enveloped in a fire  that felt even more intense than her breasts had felt
from the red hot needles.

Greta was now going to work on her thighs. Right after another surprise blow to
the soles of her feet.   Again the cane landed on Pooch's insteps a bit closer
to her heels. It would be a week at the very least  before she would be able to
put any weight on them and even then they would hurt like hell.

Seven lines striped the back of Pooch's thighs when Greta finally finished.
Pooch was aware that Greta had  been talking to her almost continually but her
mind had stopped registering the words. She was aware that  when her whipping
was over everybody was clapping and shouting things like "Bravo" and
"well done".  Pooch reasoned that Greta was being congratulated for
coming so close to killing her without actually doing  the deed. She didn't want
to see how she looked back there imagining that there was only torn flesh
loosely covering bare bone left. The whole area from the top of her hips to the
back of her knees was  on fire and the fire showed no sign of cooling down. 
Worst of all she was so profoundly alone. She didn't have a single friend in the
whole world. She needed a  friend so badly, somebody that would hold her and
tell her everything would be all right, somebody that  would take care of her,
comfort her and bind her wounds. There was no one. Everybody around her just 
wanted to hurt her and humiliate her. The one that she had reached out to for
some compassion had now  hurt her the worst. Greta placed the end of the cane in
front of Pooch's lips. She remembered what she had  to do and kissed the end of
the cane.

"Thank you mistress Greta for punishing Pooch for being a bad slave and
thinking about lying to Pooch's  mistress. Pooch is sorry for causing you so
much trouble. She won't do it again". She then hung her head  and continued
sobbing, her body still trembling.

Greta then lifted her right leg placed it on the slaves ribs and pushed her over
onto her side. She then  leaned  over, lips approaching Pooch's face and spit.
She was followed by everyone else in the room except  Ed.

"Throw her in the pit", ordered Marla.

Pooch's Story
Part 7 The Infirmary

Gradually her mind began to return to the real world. The world that had so
quickly filled with unpleasant  realities. Pooch first sensed her position. She
was kneeling on all fours her belly supported on a flat surface  of some sort.
her tits hanging over the end. There was soft padding under her knees. She felt
something foreign  running through her nose and going down the back of her
throat. Memories of what had happened to her  before fading to black began to
return, confirmed first by the burning pain in her breasts and then the 
throbbing of her feet. Pooch tried to adjust her position  but besides getting
reacquainted with the stabbing  pains in her shoulders and posterior  she  found
her wrists and ankles to be securely cuffed to what she  assumed was the floor.
Being blindfolded denied her the knowledge of where she was. Since all was quiet
she  assumed she was alone.

Her mind began to put together the clues to form an idea of what was going on.
She felt rested so a fair  amount of time must have past since the caning. Pooch
remembered the raging thirst she had felt and that  was gone too. The tube in
her nose must have been supplying her with water. There was a feeling of relief 
that she was not in the pit and that steps that had been taken to give her some
comfort. she felt somewhat  reassured that Marla intended to keep her around for
longer than she had previously feared. Still, there was no  reason to be
optimistic about the future. Marla had made her position very clear. If she was
going to be  allowed to heal it would be only so that she could be dragged back
to the mouth of hell all over again. For  now all she could do was savor this
quiet time and replay in her mind the events of the recent past.

The clicking of heels ended the peace all too quickly.

"Welcome back to the world of the living", Marla announced her
presence.

Pooch immediately felt her stomach tense.

"Isn't this exiting, our first time alone since you have become my
property. The thought that I can do anything   I want to you and you have to
take it is positively intoxicating though I imagine it must be quite different
for  you. Oh well, I guess the other neat thing is I don't have to give a shit
about how it feels to you". Marla was  absolutely giddy.

"I'll fill you in on your present situation in a minute  but first I picked
up a new toy at Maxis this morning.  Actually it was a bunch of new toys but I
just can't wait to try out this one. Beg me to whip your udders  Pooch."  
"Would mistress please whip my tits, please", responded Pooch in a
soft trembling voice.

"You know Pooch I thought that you were a lot smarter than you have shown
lately but you really are turning  out to be one ignorant cow. Let's go over the
still unpunished infractions that you have rung up since last  night. We begin
with begging Ed to  let you go. That involved attempted escape, talking out of
turn and  moving from position. You then looked Shandra in the face and she had
to slap you to reestablish her control.   You then pulled away from Greta and
talked out of turn to her. You failed to gather all your cloths together  after
being instructed to. You see you forgot the little maid outfit, and then you
lied about it when I asked if  you had put everything into the box and you said
yes. You pissed yourself. And now not only did you do a  totally unsatisfactory
job of begging, you failed to refer to yourself in the third person, as I had
clearly  instructed you , then you had to be a smart ass and call your udders,
tits. You will pay dearly for all of these  infractions. Now since you're such a
dumb ass I'm going to explain this to you. You are not a human. Human  women
have tits. I have tits. You have udders. Women have vaginas and pussies you have
a piss hole. Women  have ass holes or brownies you have a shit hole. Do you
think you can remember all that"? "Yes mistress". Tears had begun
to well up in Pooch's eyes.

"Good, now try begging again and remember that when you're told to beg you
better do it like your life  depends on it because it just might".

"Please, please, please, oh mistress, with all my heart I beg you, please
whip Pooch's sinful and vile udders.  Please whip Pooch's udders, whip those
udders nice and hard. Oh, please, please whip those sagy, ugly  udders".
She cried real tears all the way through. She was begging her new owner, a woman
10 years younger  than herself and in possession of what had been her man. A
woman who actually hated her was now her  owner. Pooch caught a glimpse of
herself as she must look to her bitch owner Marla. She was begging her  owner in
the most frantic and sincere way to whip her breasts. Breasts that had just
hours ago been pierced by  red hot darning needles and the nipples crushed by
vise grips. When Pooch saw herself do this, through her  minds eye, she grew
very sad. Pooch saw herself and what she saw was a pathetic creature that had
been, to  pardon the expression,  totally whipped.  A pathetic limp rag being
manipulated by Marla. She had given up  her pride and dignity to the sting of
the lash. and she was yet to be punished for her misdeeds, except for one,  and
that had almost killed her. Pooch  had no right to expect any less severe
treatment the next time she was  punished and there would be many sessions
coming up.

Marla laid into Pooch's dangling breast, the lash curling around the slave girls
left side and then snapping on  untouched skin just below the nipple. Pooch was
not gagged and she bellowed out the most god awful scream  that filled the room
to exploding.

On the end of the very small whip was a metal tip and a wire, made of very
strong but flexible and fatigue  resistant metal, connecting it to the handle. A
soft rubbery plastic, instead of the traditional leather was  braided around the
wire. The flattened metal tip allowed the pocket sized whip to hit with the
impact of a  much longer all leather whip. It felt to Pooch like her tit, o
excuse me, her udder, had just been ripped open by  a bull whip.

This was the reaction that Marla lived to see. It sent goose bumps down her
spine. She wondered if she could  do as well on her next stroke.  But first she
wanted to hear Pooch beg again now that she knew how the little whip felt.

"Pooch I am giving you a direct order", said Marla in a strong
matronly voice. "You are to beg again to get  your udders well whipped  or
I'll just give them 50 of the best. If I were you I'd beg real good".

Pooch could swear that her left breast had been ripped in two, and she was a
woman with ten years of  experience in getting her breasts whipped and that's
not counting the years she had done it too herself.

The pain from the first blow was still increasing..

"Mistress oh most holy mistress. Mistress most fair and just,. this
pathetic piece of trash of a slave, not worthy  of eating your shit begs you to
whip her udders. Oh most perfect of perfect mistresses please whip Pooch's 
evil, foul, udders. Please whip them so they bleed. Teach  them a lesson, not to
be so ugly. Please, please most  holy mistress.". Not a single shred of
dignity remained to cloth her.

She would do anything to avoid the whip  especially on her tits.

When Marla heard the plea she was again thrilled with her power.

She wondered how far she could go in making Pooch beg even harder to have her
tits whipped as her tits hurt  more and more. The second lash didn't miss the
nipple. Certainly the second scream was more hysterical than  the first.

Just one more, Marla thought to herself. She decided to extract maximum
performance from her slave and  when the wordless screams died down Marla
screamed right back but with words.

"That was the poorest most useless begging I ever heard. I'm going to give
you just one more chance to move  me to mercy or you get 50.  NOW BEG"!!!!!
By now Pooch's tears flowed in a steady stream.  How could she debase herself to
a point so low that she would not get the lash? She knew Marla would  probably
whip her no matter how she begged but she still had to try.  "Please
mistress Marla, please whip Pooch's udders, please whip them hard and make Pooch
scream. Pooch  will do anything mistress Marla if you would just discipline her
aching udders. Oh please use the new whip to  rip open Pooch's naughty udders
and show Pooch that you are really her lord and mistress. Please Pooch begs  you
to show her, her place beneath the soles of your shoes. Please her udders need
whipping so bad, oh please mistress Marla, please, please, please".

Pooch could hear her new lord and master walk over to her left side. Her hanging
breasts shook has she waited  for the high pitched but quiet whistle of the
horrid little whip. The agony of her left breast was soon shared by  her right
as the metal tip buried itself in the outside side of the udder. Again the room
was filled with her  scream though  it wasn't quite as loud. It wasn't because
of lack of effort but because her voice was starting to  go again.

Marla wondered if Ed could hear his former girl friends screams as he worked in
the garage. She hoped he  could. Marla's sanitary pad was now wet with her own
lubricating juices.

"There, there, there, Marla patted the now bawling slave on the head.

"It's OK I'm not going to whip you any  more. I just couldn't wait to try
this little whip out. It really works well doesn't it"? I'm going to have
it with me  all the time. It's small enough that when it's coiled up it fits
into the palm of my hand".  Marla cupped the slaves breasts in her hands
weighing them and examining the damage.

"You know the little whip left some pretty nasty marks but their pretty
small and only one stroke left a break  in the skin. This will be perfect". 
"Anyway I promised to fill you in on your current situation. You are in the
infirmary. As I am sure you are  aware, steps have been taken to position you in
a way that your wounds could best heal while maintaining  a  high level of
restraint. In this position you should be able to move just enough to prevent
pressure sores and  joint damage and you should be able to sleep. Right now you
must think it's a lot better than the pit which is  were you expected to be,
were you will indeed spend a lot of time. You are here only because Steve
thought  you were going into shock and with the damage to your feet and rear
having to stand in the pit might have been  too much for your body to handle so
we cleaned you up, inserted a tube into your stomach for food and fluids  and
brought you here. Now you may think that you want to stay as long as possible. I
want you out of here as  soon as possible and I don't want you looking for ways
to end up here.

This is where the "healing machine"  comes in.. This machine will
encourage rapid healing and discourage you from wanting to be admitted. I am 
now going to hook you up".

Marla pushed over a small stainless steel cart with some electronics and a long
but narrow dildo with a curved   narrow flat bar attached to the base along with
a bundle of wires. Marla picked up the dildo and liberally  coated it with
electrically conductive grease. She then squatted beside her slave and slid it
into her open cunt.  "Relax  this is quite narrow and it wont cause any
damage. It is long though, and it goes right up to your  womb". When
inserted the bottom plate followed the curve of  Pooch's  crotch from her
clitoris to the front  edge of her anus. "Now when I turn this ring small,
spring loaded,  metal probes will emerge from all over the  dildo and butt up
against your inside surfaces. Since the probes are angled backwards the dildo
cannot be  removed while they are extended".

Marla turned the ring and Pooch felt the spikes but up against the entire length
of her vagina. It was an  unusual sensation but it wasn't painful. She was sure
that would come soon enough. Probes also extended  from the plate along her
crotch.  "There,  that's all it takes to hook you up", said Marla.
This unit will stay in at all times while you are in here.  You may not have
noticed but a catheter has been inserted into your bladder to take care of your
urine  and  this plate only runs up to your shit hole without covering it so you
can shit without removing it".

"Now I'm going to explain the healing machine to you but first I'm going to
get myself another bottle of wine".  Pooch heard Marla walk away.

Pooch could not believe the effect of the little whip on her punished breasts.
They had become the new center  of attention. The little whip had brought tear
wrenching pain each time it hit her delicate breast. and being  blindfolded and
unable to asses the damage Pooch imagined a three inch gash deep into the meat,
so intense  was the pain. If she had been able to see the real damage she would
have seen a rather angry welt  with a broad  purple area at the end but nothing
really severe. It began to sink in that she would feel this every day as  just a 
prod to urge  her along to better performance. This wasn't even a punishment
stroke. How would she survive in  such a hostile atmosphere and to make it worse
Marla was making herself drunk and she knew, from her  experience with Ed, that
when she was drunk she would be a lot less inhibited when it came to inflicting
pain.  Seeing Ed drunk had terrified her. He had always hurt her much more when
he had been drinking.. Now  Marla, her new owner, was purposely getting drunk so
she could be  more vicious and have more fun. Marla  terrified her almost to the
point of immediate panic. Pooch wondered what would happen to her pussy. What 
would that thing do? Would it stab her? Would it rip her? Would it shock her?
She couldn't see the control  panel. She knew that what ever it did it would
hurt her badly.  It was an hour before Marla returned. She had to go to the
supermarket to pick up more wine. Marla brought  home a mini keg. It was enough
for an entire weekend and she brought it with her into the infirmary.

Pooch couldn't see that Marla had stripped entirely naked except for her shoes. 
She had replaced her sanitary  pad with a tampon. She had the little whip
wrapped around her neck. like a necklace.  Marla could not believe how good she
felt. She could now live out all the fantasies that she had only dreamt  about.
She had the perfect slave and Marla would show the world how well she could
train Pooch. The only  methods she would use were personality striping and pain
avoidance.

Slaves that had been stripped of their  personality responded better to the
simple pain avoidance technique. The fun thing about this technique was  that
although at first, there was a clear positive correlation between the intensity
of the pain and the subjects  compliance, after a point, as the pain increased
the subjects behavior no longer improved But the great part  was that it didn't
get worse so the only danger was to apply too little pain. It was better to err
on the side of too  much pain.  All you wanted to do was keep the subject
conscious. Up to the point of unconscious anything  goes.  "I didn't tell
you but I control your bladder too. If I unclamp the hose you pee otherwise you
can't.. Go ahead  Pooch, try it".

Pooch tried to pee but saw she couldn't.  "I can use that hose  to send
material into your bladder and not just out.  If I forget to drain you, you will 
suffer extreme pain in your bladder  and then kidneys. And you aren't allowed to
even let me know you're  suffering. Right now, in case you are wondering  I'm
recycling your pee through the feeder tube.  When it comes to your bowels,
they're under enema control. You figure it out. Since you're now conscious I'm 
going to withdraw the feeding tube and you can eat and drink through your mouth.
You'll get a bowl and it  will go on a shelf below your head. You will eat like
a dog. You will finish anything and everything that is put  into your food bowl
or you get punished ".

Marla continued, "you will soon find out how the healing machine works.

For you the great thing is that you  don't have to do any thing, the machine is
totally automatic. All you do is lie back and scream. At least until  your voice
gives out. As your voice gives out the pain doesn't. It just gets worse. Now
I'll just turn it on and put  it in calibration mode" Marla flipped a
switch on the control panel and waited while she watched Pooch.

At first Pooch couldn't feel anything. As the power output of the machine
increased she felt a tingle in her  vagina and instinctively jerked back. Marla
entered this output level as the lower minimum. Gradually the  machine kept
increasing the power. The tingle grew stronger and more distinct. The muscles
throughout her  nether regions began to contract. She wasn't in pain yet but she
was not comfortable either.  "Now let's test your ability to handle stress.
You will count backwards starting at one hundred like this, one  hundred
Mississippi, ninety-nine Mississippi, ninety-eight Mississippi all the way down
to one. If you don't  make it all the way down to one then at where ever you
lost count that's how many strokes you'll get with my  little whip. You can
count as fast as you wish just don't loose count".

Pooch obeyed the order and started counting back. By now her insides had entered
into great discomfort. Her  clit was starting to hurt as did her anus.

"One hundred Mississippi, ninety-nine Mississippi, ninety-eight
Mississippi", she counted as fast as she was  able.  "Eighty-seven
Mississippi owww, eighty-six Mississippi owwww"! Her muscles were now at
maximum  contraction and the pain was changing in nature from the pain of severe
cramping to the pain of constant  waves of electrical shock. This was her first
experience with electrical torture. She would learn that it is  something to
which you never get used to. If anything,  you learn to fear it more with each
experience.  "Seventy-five aughhhhhh Mississippi aughhhhhhh!!! Seventy,
seventy-four miss aaaughhhhh Mississippi  aaaauuughhhhh". Pooch was really
struggling not to give in to the pain.

She just had to get down to one and  avoid the whip.  Marla paid no attention to
the actual count. All that she was waiting for was for Pooch to totally loose
the  ability to talk. She was waiting for nothing but scream.  "Six
aaaaaghhhhhhh ty-six owwwwwww miss owwww is owwww i aaauuughh  pi, sixty owwwww
two  Missies aaaaaaauuuuuughhhhhhhh pi, sixty-five oooooooooooooooowwwww",
she had now completely lost  track of the count as her mind was abandoned to the
pain.

"Fif aaaaaaaaaauuuuuuuuuuuuughhhhhhhhhhhh"!!!!!  Marla had found her
next calibration point. It was where the subject cannot see anything but the
pan.  The intensity  kept rising. and rising.

Pooch's entire body began to convulse uncontrollably  crashing and jerking
against the block to which she was  attached. If she hadn't been blindfolded her
eyes would have been seen trying to pop out of her head.  Marla had reached the
final calibration point, maximum level. She switched the machine to automatic.
The  current stopped.  The room was quiet.

 "You know Pooch", Marla said. That dildo looked harmless enough so I
asked Ed to help me try it on myself. I  told him that I would insert the dildo
into myself and while I held on to the bed post he would turn it up to  about
half the current that you got and turn it off. If I screamed STOP he would turn
it off right away".

"I yelled stop at about the time you had counted down to ninety-five.  But
Ed was feeling cruel and he didn't stop till the machine had reached the maximum
level we had agreed on.  I almost went out of my mind. I haven't forgiven him
yet.  I had yelled stop, and I had meant it, at one quarter the level that you
just took. If I had got what you just got  the cleaners would have been scraping
me off the walls. You are one hell of a pain slut".

Pooch was still shaking uncontrollably. Every nerve in her entire body was
roaring. What had she just been  through.? She couldn't go through that again.
She had to tell Marla that she couldn't take that again. She  preyed under her
breath. Prayer was the last thing she could do. Any time she was not being
beaten she was  preying.. She still believed in God.

The light glistened off the sweat covering Pooch's body. Her heart rate was
still one eighty. "Oh God", she  prayed, "please, please, please
God, don't let me go through  that again". Her nose  was red and running,
her  eyes were swollen from crying.

When Marla touched Pooch's cheek with the palm of her hand Pooch jerked back
violently. It was a reflex  taken to the extreme by the state of her nerves.

"There, there, there", Marla chided.  "You'll be all right. You
felt the whole range there weakest to strongest. Usually the machine  wont get
up to  the maximum".

Pooch didn't like the sound of the word, "usually"? Was Marla 
implying that these shocks were going to be  frequent things? God help her,
Pooch thought, if she is..

"The healing machine is set to come on all by itself at random times and
random intensities, so you never  know when to expect the next healing session.
On average though", Marla went on, "it will come on about  once every
four hours. The machine tries, from information gained from sensors in the dildo
device, to turn on  when you are asleep. It will remove a lot of the pleasure
that you might get from sleep, when you know that the  sooner you fall asleep
the sooner you will feel the electricity. When you're finally so tired that you
can't stay  up any longer any little disturbance will cause your mind to jolt
you awake thinking it's the start of the next  session with the electricity. 
Now just to show you that I am not completely heartless, and realize that
sometimes you end up here through  no fault of your own,  the machine will,
again I must emphasize on average, perform at lower intensities early  in your
stay. As your stay gets longer the maximum intensity will go higher and stay
there for a longer period  of time. Needles to say  I have set the minimum level
of intensity for any session at about double what I could  voluntarily take. 
You already felt the maximum. It might stay at maximum from two seconds to two
minutes.  At maximum I don't expect you  to stay conscious for more than ten or
twenty seconds, but you will rarely get  the maximum. The machine is powered by
batteries which can be charged from solar panels if conventional  electricity is
cut off. When you are in here Pooch, you wont escape the healing machine. Just
remember, it will  start as a tingle and then keep climbing at a steady rate,
and it can start at any time" When Pooch heard those words every fiber of
her being agreed that no matter what the cost she had to get out  of here.
Anything was better than this. She had to show Marla that she was almost healed.
Yes Pooch was sure  that she was fit enough to work. .

The machine was working already.

As if knowing what Pooch had just been thinking Marla asked her, "did you
feel any healing effect from the  machine yet?"  Pooch nodded to her
mistress enthusiastically and said "Yes mistress I did, I feel
better".

Pooch heard the whistle, followed by the crack and the sting, of her mistresses
little whip. It landed in her  armpit and Pooch's. entire right side convulsed
as she, unsuccessfully, tried to hide her armpit from the whip.  Marla struck
the same spot quickly, a second time, as if to underline her point.

"I didn't tell you,  you shit head,  that you could blab. All that question
wanted was some indication  of a yes  or a no. A nod of your empty head would
have been enough, at most a -yes mistress-. I didn't ask for your life  story.
From now on if it is possible to answer a question by nodding your head that is
what you will do. I  won't hear your horrid little voice for days, except for
the screams of course".

New panic set in for Pooch, how was she going to show her mistress that she was
OK? "You know what Pooch", Marla sounded almost gleeful, "I bet I
can punish you for your blabby mouth  without hurting the healing, right here
and now. That would be better then letting theses infractions pile up,  now
wouldn't it"? Pooch moanfully nodded.

"Let me think about what I could do to you? All the large areas of your
body that are exposed have pretty  much been beaten to a pulp and that's why
you're hear healing, so your back, but and udders are out. I've got it.  The
perfect punishment for a poor student like you, and being in the position 
you're in you won't be able to  forget it as long as you're in here.  Did you
ever get the strap when you were in school? Pooch shook her head.

"Well around here students that had earned the strap got it on the palms of
their hands. Your hands are  wonderfully sensitive and because not as much force
is necessary to produce a remedial effect as, say. on your  back, the healing is
much quicker. Don't worry. I realize that you are not a young impressionable
student but  an old and stupid slave so a lot sterner measures are needed to
leave a lasting impression. Let me think about it  while you have your first
meal as my slave " It had been a long time since Pooch had eaten any real
food. A while ago she had been quite hungry but recent  events had resulted in a
loss of appetite.

Marla pulled out a sliding shelf from inside the block to which Pooch was
attached. It extended just below   the level of her head. She then scooped out a
measure of course meal from a bag labeled "pig chow" to which  she
added scrapes from a plastic bucket brought up earlier from the kitchen. It had
contained some potato  peels, apple core, chewed up meat gristle and fat, some
carrot tops and other scraps. The bucket was labeled  "Slop". Some
white liquid was poured from a plastic jug over everything, then Marla placed
the bowl on the  shelf right under the slaves chin.  "I hope you like it.
I've done a lot of research on a suitable diet that was completely nutritious
and yet cost  almost nothing. This is what I came up with. Believe me you will
be eating healthier than anybody else in this  house. If you don't like it,
well, you'll be eating it anyway. It's all you will eat. In fact I talked to Ed
about it to  make sure there are no little treats behind my back. Now dig in and
don't forget what I told you earlier about  eating everything placed in your
bowl. You have five minutes. When you are finished I'll have some dessert for 
you".

Her mistress had given her  five  minutes to finish and Pooch was determined not
to earn any more  punishments. The cold gruel had a faint fishy taste but mostly
it was just very bland. The bits of leftovers  reminded her of how food was
supposed to taste, still, it was a great deal better than her last meal. She was 
especially surprised how good the bits of fat tasted, something that she had
always been meticulous about  throwing away in the past. If it wasn't exactly
good, at least it was filling.  Marla again patted Pooch on the head as she
licked the bowl clean.  "Good slave ", cooed Marla. "You ate up
your slop very well. Now because this is a special occasion  I am  going to give
you dessert. Usually to get this treat you will have to perform exceptionally
well. It's the biggest  reward that you will ever get and I expect that you will
show the proper appreciation and enthusiasm".  Marla removed the feeding
bowl, pushed back the shelf , pulled back the slaves head by her hair and
planted  her hairy snatch in Pooch's gapping mouth.

It tasted a bit fishy too.  Maybe, Pooch thought, if I do a real good job eating
her pussy  Marla will take it a bit easier beating my  hands.  She tried  to
show all the eagerness and enthusiasm in the world. She worked her tongue, and
her lips and her  teeth. She moaned and groaned and made slurpy sounds.  She
made Marla cum and cum again.  For Marla there was now a bit of a dilemma. She
knew that she had told the slave that this would be a rare and  special treat
but she really wanted it every day. When it was available any time she wanted
how could she deny  herself.

"All right piggy that's enough". Marla stood back.  "It's
time". She tried to speak in a loud stern voice. In the voice of the strict
mother. Yes, that's what she would  pretend to be a strict, belittling and
intimidating but beautiful mother. And Pooch would be her very  delinquent 
daughter. Marla released the slaves right hand from its binding.  "Hold
your hand straight out in font of your face. I want the palm facing the ceiling
fingers extended straight  out and curving back,  Spread your fingers a bit. A
bit more". Marla continued.

"You are to maintain that hand position no matter what happens save for
five seconds after every blow. During  those five seconds you can do whatever
you wish with your hand. No force could stop you anyway. Your hand  must be back
in the position it's in now within five seconds, as judged by me. I don't care
if the bones are  sticking through the skin and your fingers have been severed,
the hand returns to position and waits for the  next strike. Remember, I can
always make things worse, no matter how bad off you think you are. Also 
remember that you have brought this on yourself. You haven't learned to keep
your mouth shut but I promise  that you will".  Pooch didn't get a single
bit of material she could use to prepare herself. The slave didn't know what was 
coming, how many or how hard. What she got was a picture of a hand with missing
fingers and broken bones  sticking through the skin.  Her reflexes took over she
started shaking. Keeping her hand even close to still was impossible.  "The
perfect slave would now be thinking", "I must make sure I don't talk
too much again. I failed and I deserve  the punishment that I am going to
get". "How far away is that, from what you are thinking, slave"?
Marla  asked.

"Far, mistress", came the response.

"Were you thinking about yourself?, like, how much is this going to
hurt"?  "Yes mistress".

"As a slave that's the last thing you are supposed to think of. Do you see
now how you deserve this"? She nodded her head. She saw why she deserved
it, she just couldn't make herself feel guilty.

Marla pulled the quill of a large feather across the slaves outstretched palm at
the same time that she slammed  a two tail taws onto the floor, knowing she
would hear the crack before feeling the feather. Her brain would  connect the
two and there would be a great overreaction. It was a Greta trick.

Pooch's hand flew back her fist clenched, A shout of pain left her lips.

"AWWWW".  Marla fought back the urge to laugh.

Pooch assumed, without thinking, that the pain wasn't as big as expected, 
because the nerves of her hand had  been cut by the blow. With great trembling
and tears flowing down from under her mask, the slave put back  her hand so that
it could receive the next blow. She heard Marla confirm her worst fears.

"Looks like there's a little more bleeding than I thought there would
be", and she drooped a couple of drops of  warm oil onto her hand.
"I'm sure that you'll keep it. Remember that you must be punished, not for
what you  did but so that you will do the right thing the next time a similar
situation comes up".

WHACK!!!!, the belt hits the floor again. This time Marla dropped oil from a
dropper bottle at the same time  she passed the quill over the slaves hand.

Now Pooch knew that her hand had suffered nerve damage and that Marla had opened
large cuts on it.

Not wanting to risk the illusion Marla replaced the slaves hand in the wrist
cuff and freed the other one,  making sure the recuffed hand was on a puddle of
oil and honey mix..

"I think I'll use another whip for this hand".

This time Marla connected across the slaves outstretched hand with moderate
force, enough to raise small  welts across the entire width".

The intensity of her scream was a lot greater.

"Damn that was a bad stroke"!!, cussed Marla.

The slave had confirmation that the reason her left hand hurt more than her
right was because it wasn't  damaged as badly yet. It took a lot of nerve to
stick the hand back out, it stung so badly. In fact the pain shot  right up to
her arm pit .  This time Marla struck the arm of a reclining chair just inches
away from the slaves face, so the sound would  be similar to the sound when
Marla had struck her hand. She drew the quill and oil over the hand at the same 
time.

The slave now knew that both hands were smashed.

Marla refastened the left wrist so that the left hand also lay in a small puddle
of oil and honey.

"I would avoid moving those hands or putting any pressure on them for a
couple of days at least". warned the  strict mother Marla The slave
whimpered tearfully, straining to keep weight of her hands.

What would happen next?  What an idiot, thought Marla..

Pooch's Story
Part 8 The Infirmary (II)

It was late Saturday night. Marla was sprawled on the reclining chair content in
her nakedness. The wine was  making her sleepy and she wondered if it might be
best to go back and lie with Ed. She couldn't drag her self  away. Here in this
makeshift room she had absolute power, the power of control, of life and death
and she  shared that power with no one. Marla once again felt the joy of a child
that had just received the toy she had  always wanted and what a toy it was. No
she would stay here with Pooch.

There was still so much to do. It  was too bad that the slave had taken so much
abuse in such a short time and now required time to recover.   Marla so wanted
to really put her through her passes, to display her to her friends. She
withdrew her right  hand from between her legs and wiped the scent over her
upper lip and nose. Marla liked the way she smelled.  Marla liked almost
everything about herself. She licked her hand savoring her own taste. What a
lucky cunt  Pooch is, she thought, to have me as her mistress, to have intimate
contact with this body.  Though she too was naked the slave did not share
Marla's feelings of joy and contentment. She still didn't  know where she was or
what day or time it was. She was becoming increasingly uncomfortable from being 
locked into the same position for so long. Her body hurt from the myriad of
beatings it had been forced to  endure. Her bladder demanded release. Strangely
enough her hands felt quite normal, though somewhat sticky  from blood she
assumed. She didn't understand that.  Continually tormenting her was the fear of
the next wave of shocks from the healing machine. As long as the  device was
buried in the tunnel to her womb there could be no peace.

Pooch's imagination refused to look  beyond the time that the machine would come
on again. Marla had said that at first the shocks wouldn't be as  strong, but
she also said  "on average", so sometimes the level could go really
high even at first. As it became  clear that she wouldn't be able to avoid more
sessions she prayed that the machine wouldn't go very high.

"I'd better give you protection before I forget". Marla dragged
herself out of the easy chair and picked up a  hard rubber ball gag,  that had a
large hole running through the center of it, from the cart holding the
electrical  device. "I've heard that in Chile people undergoing
interrogation under electrical torture often bit off their  tongues or broke
their teeth. I don't want to take any chances with you, even though I am sure
the shock levels  from the healing machine are not nearly as high. Open your
mouth wide".

Pooch opened her jaws wide knowing now with certainty that this sealed her fate.
It was only a matter of time  that the dreaded machine would send her back to
hell. Marla forced the ball deep between her teeth with the  heel of her hand
before fastening the strap behind the slaves head. The arrangement would protect
Pooch from  inadvertent damage while still allowing her to breath through her
mouth.

Of course the hole could see other  uses.

"If you remember, after the trial I told you that I would be giving you a
set of rules by which to govern your  self.  Since these rules will direct all
of your behavior and since you will have to keep them in mind all of the  time I
think it would be more appropriate to call them commandments.

After all they come from a divine  source, as far as you're concerned, 'me'.
They roughly fall into two categories, overall deportment and bodily  control.
I'm sure many of these commandments will be familiar to you, some will be new. 
When you break a  commandment you will be punished for it. Unlike  breaking
those other commandments, the punishment for  breaking any of mine will be both
swift and sure. You won't be waiting for an afterlife to pay for your crimes. 
There are sixteen commandments now. I reserve the right to add more later. You
will learn these rules of life  backwards and forwards. Do you understand so
far?" Pooch nodded her head.  "Here are your commandments."
Commandment number one. Pooch will always remember that she is a slave.

Commandment number two. Pooch will obey her superiors commands immediately and
fully.

Commandment number three. Pooch will show enthusiasm in the execution of all
commands.

Commandment number four. Pooch will not show revulsion to a command.

Commandment number five. Pooch will put the welfare of others ahead of her own.

Commandment number six. Pooch will not attempt to conceal wrong doing from her
superiors.

Commandment number seven. Pooch will not try to escape.

Commandment number eight. Pooch will not be clumsy in the performance of her
tasks.

Commandment number nine. Pooch will not lie.

Commandment number ten. Pooch  will address others only with respect and finish
each statement with either  the word master or mistress.

Commandment number eleven. Pooch will not speak unless instructed to or if a
proper response requires  speech.   Commandment number twelve. Pooch will not
stare at another with her eyes focused above their waist.  Commandment number
thirteen. Pooch will not caress herself.

Commandment number fourteen. Pooch will only defecate as instructed.

Commandment number fifteen. Pooch will only eat as instructed.

Commandment number sixteen. Pooch will only drink as instructed..

"What do these commandments mean?", asked Marla, "let me give you
a rundown  and remember for all time  that which I tell you now" She was at
her pompous best, helped by the wine. Marla didn't become mean when  she was
drunk, she became ostentatious.

"Rule one says that you will always remember that you are a slave. What
does that mean? It means that when  you walk up a circular staircase you will
walk on the inside so that you step on a smaller area of the stair and  leave
more space for others. When you haven't had a drink in three days and you are
offered one of two glasses  of water you take the one less full. It means that
when you are a member of a team you do not joke with the  other members because
you are too inferior to them.

Commandment number two, you will obey all commands immediately and fully means
that when you are told  to stick your finger down the food processor, while it's
running you will do it without thinking about it and  you will jam your finger
in hard to ensure that the whole finger gets chewed up. Remember that it's not
your  finger it's mine!!"  Marla emphasized the word "mine".

Commandment number three, you will show enthusiasm in the execution of all
commands means that when  you are shoving your finger down the food processor
you do it with a smile on your face and convince me that  you would like to do
it again. It means that even though seeing me means more pain and humiliation
you will  wag your tail and pant in joy whenever you see  me" This was
getting to be a bit too overwhelming for the slave. What did she mean by wag her
tale?, and she  wasn't having her fingers ground up to please anybody. This was
just crazy.

Commandment number four", Marla went on. "You will show no revulsion.

That is simply that as long as you  remember that you are the most revolting
thing in the world, you won't have a problem not showing any. When  a turd from
some fat pig is sliding down your throat you will moan with pleasure and accept
it with your eyes  wide open.

Commandment  number five, you will put the welfare of others ahead of your own
means that in a fire where  there is escape for only one of either you or my dog
you will shove the dog through the escape hatch.

Pooch stooped listening to what Marla was saying. It was all too absurd.

There wasn't even any point in  listening. All she would do was try and memorize
the commandments and then she would be careful. She  remembered that after Marla
had finished her explanation of the sixteen commandments she said that they had 
been recorded into her computer and would be replayed over and over to her, as
long as she was in here so that  when she left the infirmary the commandments
would be a part of her being.

Contrary to what Marla had said the intense stress along with all the physical
abuse that she had suffered , was  making Pooch very tired and her mind began to
wander. The sleeping draught that Marla had added to her  food didn't help
either.  Pooch dozed off.

After what only seemed like a minute she felt a strong pulse in her tortured
cunt.

No it can't be. Pooch sprang fully awake. It can't be happening again.  Her
insides tightened up as hard as they could to try and fight of the growing buzz.

It did no good because the buzz grew a lot stronger than her insides.  Pooch
began to pull at her restraints,  quickly the struggle became violent. She
pulled against the padded cuffs with all her strength not caring if she 
succeeded in breaking the cuffs or ripping of her own hands. Neither would
break. She thrashed her thighs  against the block trying to dislodge it, to no
avail. The current kept rising slowly but without pause. A scream   squeezed its
way through the hole in the ball gag. A scream that just grew louder and higher
pitched. It was a  hysterical cry for help. The current leveled off. For half a
minute it just kept pounding her, no mercy, no  compassion. Pooch wished for the
comfort of blackness but Marla had calibrated the machine well. The  blackness
never came only pure searing pain. And then nothing. The slave had no idea how
long the current  had fried her insides but it felt like it had been on forever.
Pooch swore to herself that she would not fall  asleep again.  It took twenty
minutes for Pooch to settle back down to state that had some resemblance to
normal. She began  to notice the pitch blackness and the absolute quiet. It
weighed heavily on her heart. No good could come of  it.

And then out of the void  came Marla's voice.

"Seems like you didn't pay much attention to commandment number 7. You
tried to escape and I am going to  have to punish you again. As a general rule,
when you try to run away from something you will receive an  extra large dose of
whatever it was that you were running away from".  The sound of Marla's
voice in combination with the cruel words scared Pooch to the point where her
heart rate  jumped back to the same level it was at during the electrical
shocks.

She knew what was coming. "Please God  don't let this be happening ",
Pooch preyed. She was preying to a God that she believed in less and less. She 
was losing one of her last sources of strength, at least with God she had never
been truly alone.

"I'm afraid that I am going to have to shock you now and since it is a
punishment it will be at a higher level and  a longer time. I suggest you lie
there and take it this time or we'll have to do it again".

Even before she could absorb the words Pooch felt the punch of the current hit
her birth canal then her anus.  Marla quickly turned the transformer  to the
highest level she had calibrated to. The slave had no control of  her body as it
thrashed around wildly limited only by the strong straps securing it to the
block. Her mind was  no longer cluttered by the impurity of though. There was
only the electricity.

Then just before losing consciousness the current stooped.

Pooch heard Marla say, "ONE!", and then the power went on again. Marla
simply turned it back to the same  level. There was one additional  effect.
Pooch now lost her faith in any God. There would be no one to save  her and she
would no longer look.  Pooch was on her own. and her loneliness was indeed
profound.

"Two".

This time Marla turned up the current to 10% less than before but kept it there
until the slave passed out.

Smelling salts jolted Pooch back to consciousness. Only to hear the voice of her
torturer.

"If I were you I would be very careful not to create even the appearance
that you would like to escape. I  consider attempts at freedom, even those that
just try to avoid a punishment or task to be very serious offenses  indeed. I am
going to turn on the machine one more time but before I do I want you to tell me
that you promise  not to try and escape again, ever, for any reason." The
slave had no choice , meekly she nodded her head and surrendered the rest of her
life to the hated Marla.

This time Marla took her time raising the current, she would make Pooch suffer
for a long time. She didn't  want this lesson soon forgotten. Marla kept her in
agony for a full twenty minutes raising and lowering the  current to maximize
the suffering without making her loose consciousness. Pooch would have done or 
promised anything to make her stop but all she had the ability to do was take it
and hope that she would pass  out. She didn't.

When the current finally stopped all that was left was the shell of a human
being. She had no strength, no  desires, no will and no thoughts. Pooch just lay
there.

Marla was disappointed in the state of her slave. It would mean that Pooch would
probably not react fully to  what she was about to do to her next. Steve, the
plastic surgeon, had prepared a large quantity of a histamine  solution in
combination with bee venom. This was to be injected into her breasts not for the
sake of cruelty  but to facilitate the major project of reshaping her drudge.
The fact that it would cause intense pain itching  and discomfort was merely a
bonus. The solution would be used to make her breasts swell and stretch the skin 
prior to augmentation surgery. Steve would need all the extra skin because Marla
wanted Pooch's udders to be  obscenely large. Maximum sized implants would be
inserted behind her pectoral muscles were the bags would  not be damaged by
whipping or binding then the breast itself would be built up using the slaves
own fat  removed from either her belly or thighs or hips wherever she tended to
deposit fat the most. In the future  weight gain would occur in her tits rather
than hips or belly making it easier to maintain a slim figure with  huge bags.
Part of the preparation would be to fatten her up so she would lay down fat
deposits. Feedings  would become increasingly large and frequent. After she
healed, lactation would be induced to further increase  breast size and weight
as well as nipple size and sensitivity. One of Pooches duties would be to
produce  enough milk to supply cream and cheese for Marla's own household as
well as those of her friends.  "I hope you recover soon ", Marla said
in a mocking tone. "Don't think that I will ever forget your attempt to 
free yourself. I will remember this and hold it against you the rest of your
miserable existence and you can be  sure that it will be my purpose to make your
life more miserable. I think that the injections that I will now give  to your
udders will be a major step in increasing your misery. These injections contain
poisons, about which  there is no need for you to know, They will cause your
sacks to swell until you are sure the skin will split like  the crust of a loaf
of french bread,  split in several place. This won't be the worst thing.  The
needles I will use  are 3" and I will use the entire length of the needle.
When I want to inject fluid into the left side of your bag I  will start the
needle on the right and push it through. An injection to the base of the tit
will be started at the  top. This will also provide a path for fluid along which
to disperse throughout the entire udder. The needles  have been dulled so that
they hurt like hell as they pass through the flesh . This still won't be the
worst. The  worst thing, I am told, is the deep, constant and intense itch. An
itch that will again drive you out of your  mind. The fact that I am going to
inject the fluid at 120 degrees will just speed the desired effect.. Don't you 
DARE!!!! move a muscle to try to pull your bags away from my hands or the
needle. Remember that I can  always make things much, much worse and I don't
believe  that you want to feel anything worse, but if you  insist then I will
oblige. Don't forget enthusiasm, there should be signs of eagerness to have your
udders  speared,. get a smile on your puss and raise your head. You will become
far more valuable to your mistress  because of this. You do want to be more
valuable to your mistress don't you?" Pooch smiled and nodded her head the
response was automatic.

"Don't forget that when I say your udders I'm only using the word
"your" as a convenience of speech. Those  things dangling from your
chest belong to me and soon they will go to work for me as your main attraction. 
You will be some freak."  Marla was drunk and full of herself but her words
had the ring of truth.

"Lift and push forward so I can easily grab those things".

The slave did as she was told her breasts now dangled down free no longer
resting against the front of the box.  Marla grasped and examined her right tit
pulling and twisting to get a better view of the damage. "It looks like 
these are healing as they should. You could be on duty in three or four days.
You can thank your lucky stars  that these injections are not going through your
nipples this time. I am going to give them a chance to recover a  while. You can
bet that in future your nipples will be the primary entry point. Now lets
begin." Marla cupped the underside of Pooch's right breast with her right
hand, pushing the tit toward the slaves face,  and placed the sharp tip of one
of the huge 30cc syringes  at the base of the underside and slowly pushed the 
needle through the skin and straight in the direction of the underside of the
nipple. Marla didn't release any of  the poison as the tip partially cut and
partially ripped its way through the breasts flesh in the direction of   Pooch's
face. When the full 3 inch length of the needle had been inserted Marla slowly
and steadily  began  injecting the poisonous fluid 3cc at a time. She would
inject the fluid then pull well back on the needle,  anywhere from one to two
inches, point it in a new direction and then push it all the way in again before 
releasing another 3cc of fluid. Each needle felt like ten and in this way the
entire core of Pooch's udder would  be filled with the poison. Marla's technique
in pulling out twisting and then shoving the needle back into the  breast could
only be described as clumsy  and course. Marla never knew where the needle tip
would end up.  Twice the needle broke back outside through the skin and had to
be pulled back, but this wasn't of any  concern to Marla, after all she didn't
feel a thing. Each tit was eventually filled with a half cup of fluid or four 
syringes worth. There were fourty needle channels and fourty pockets of venom in
each udder.

For Pooch the injections that signaled the beginning of a new outward appearance
were also met by a new  system of thought, indeed even a new consciousness. Time
was no longer marked by the hands of a clock but  by the streaming of pain. The
previous markers that had been so important like schedules to be met, places to 
be at, people that had to be seen, chores that had to be done, the passage of
night and day, all once important  just didn't exist any more. There was no more
night and day, nothing that had to be done and no one but Marla  to commune with
and even at that it was really only a one way communication. Even her bodily
functions were  controlled by her keeper on a time table that changed 
constantly. Pain, however, was an ever present  companion. Some was long
lasting, some was sharp but brief, some faded from being agonizing to being 
pleasant, even producing a glowing sensation. Slowly, maybe because physical
escape was impossible, Pooch  began to experience pain in it's purest state,
almost as if she was an observer of the pain and not really the one  that it was
being inflicted upon.   The pain in her udders was very  real and included every
kind of sensation. There had been the endlessly  repeating sting of the needle
followed by a burning sensation as the fluid entered and mixed with her flesh. 
The chemical fire felt every bit as hot as had the red hot needles that had
pierced her tits such a short while  ago and which still caused continuos
discomfort. Then there was the sensation of swelling and her skin being  pulled
apart from the inside by her own expanding flesh ready to split open like over
ripe watermelons. That  was the size she pictured her udders to be, watermelons.
Sweat covered her entire body. Fever, sometimes  accompanied by delirium was an
unfortunate byproduct of the injections.

Gradually the burning began to  subside only to be replaced by a dull throbbing
ache which only increased the tearing sensation on her skin.  This was pain that
would be with her right up until her appointment with the surgeon. One final
element was  still to be added to the hell that was her udders. It was the itch.

The itch began a couple of hours after the injections. At first it was masked
behind the throbbing pain and  even shortly after it became noticeable it was
only another small irritation; but the intensity kept increasing a  bit like the
current from the healing machine, except that this time it didn't shut of after
a few minutes. This  was not a common itch that occurs on the skin surface, be
it from a mosquito bite or chicken pox or Poisson  Ivy. This itch came from deep
inside and even brushing her udders up against the side of the box provided no 
relief. Pooch tried everything to obtain relief. She tried swinging her bags
through the air for a while then she  tried swinging them up towards her face
and then pulling back so that they hit against the front side of the  box. She
kept doing this not because it got rid of the itch, it didn't, but because the
pain inflicted on her  bloated  milk sacs was paralyzing but for a while it
killed the itch.

She would have probably kept on doing  this if Marla hadn't walked in and asked
her why she was trying to escape the itch when she had so recently  felt the
consequences of a similar action. This was the most horrifying question Marla
could have asked her.  Either she had to admit to trying to escape the itch or
lie to Marla even though she knew that Marla would  know it was a lie. She had
been much too obvious. There was no response she could make. Pooch went blank 
and froze.......................................   "Darling", Marla
broke the silence and addressed Pooch in a contemptuous tone, "I see that
you are a slow  learner. I don't know if it's stubbornness or stupidity but it
doesn't really matter. Either way you will become  more observant of the rules.
I am going to do something this time that I might never do again. I am going to
let  you off with a warning, but if I see you do anything similar to what you
were just doing again I will make sure  that you wished you were dead. Do I make
myself clear?" All that the petrified slave could do was nod that she
understood. She would have to bear the unbearable in  silence and stillness.

She heard the sound of Marla's heels approach and once again cringed in morbid
dread.

Marla squatted beside her property and grasped her slave's right bag in both
hands. Steve had told her all  about what would happen, how they would turn red
and swell till only the tightness of the skin would retard  further expansion.
He had told her that the irritation from the venom and histamine would bring on  
unbearable itching that would last for days. She was warned that any rough
handling of the udders at this time  could cause severe splitting leaving large
scars that he may not be able to hide. Marla could feel the tightness  of the
skin. The temptation to squeeze and twist was almost to great to resist. The
doctor had been correct  about everything.   Steve had supplied Marla with a
bucket of "Bag Balm" from an agricultural supplier. This was a lanolin
cream  used in the care of dairy cattle but would work fine on a cow like Pooch.
It would keep the skin soft and moist  protecting it from cracking. Marla
scooped out a handful and slathered it over the mammary glands. For a  short
time Pooch reveled in how nice this gentle attention felt  Marla's hands felt
soft and supportive, taking  some of the weight that had up to now been born by
her ribs and shoulders. The lotion felt cool and soothing  on her skin. Pooch
let out a sigh of contentment. Such a short time ago being handled by another
woman, in  such a manner would  have been revolting to her. Now it didn't
matter.

The only important thing was that there  was some brief relief before being
returned to her world of pain.

"You realize that any time you spend in the infirmary comes at a great cost
to me. Not only do I loose your use  but I have to take care of your health
needs, your feeding and your waste. I almost become a slave to you. I'm  going
to make sure that I get paid back for all my trouble. You will be pulling a lot
of extra duties after getting  out of here. Now I have to go clean  out your
shit. Do you suppose I enjoy that? You will pay." With that  Marla dropped
Pooch's udders and went to retrieve her enema equipment.  Marla returned with a
plastic bucket which had a rather odd looking plastic contraption on the top
that  resembled a curvaceous urinal. She also had a very large syringe, similar
to a douche syringe and a hose that  had a rubber sack surrounding it a half
foot from one end and a box with differently sized nipples on the other  end.
Still in a bit of a snit over nurse maiding Pooch Marla kicked her prisoner in
the thigh then ordered her to  spread her cheeks as wide as her restraints would
allow to expose her shit hole. Marla then shoved the tube  into Pooch's mouth
through the hole in her gag, beyond the rubber pouch.

This was for lubrication. Quickly  the rubber was pulled out of her mouth and
pushed into Pooch's waiting anus until the bag was also inside.  Marla then
attached a inflation bulb to one of the available nipples on the box . Pumping
it inflated the rubber  bag in the slaves rectum sealing in any contents.  Marla
inserted the end of the catheter, leading from Pooch's bladder, onto another
small nipple and released  the clamp. Immediately her overfilled bladder
released its load of urine through the tube and right into her own  rectum. The
two sensations were both pleasant. Pooch  had been waiting to pee for hours and
the warm fluid  filling her rectum was soothing as well.  Her owner had no
intention of keeping this procedure pleasant. Marla filled a 32 oz syringe with
ice water that  was in the bucket. After making sure that Pooch's bladder was
empty  she pulled the catheter off the nipple  and attached it to the end of the
syringe. Now the flow of fluid would be into Pooch's bladder instead of out. 
Marla applied steady hard pressure on the syringe propelling cold water along
the tube.  The pleasant relief our heroin had been feeling changed first to a
cold shock and then the serious feeling that  her bladder would explode. Her
lower abdomen bulged out. Pooch had to pull away from the block as much as  she
could. The pressure still kept building. Pooch swore she could feel her bladder
begin to rip. She began to  scream hysterically, but Marla's cold heart was
unaffected. If anything she was especially glad that this  procedure was so
painful.. Pooch should suffer for making her take care of the slaves elimination
needs. Marla  only stopped when the syringe was empty and then quickly clamped
the tube shut.

"I think you can hold this for a while", Marla said. "It will do
you good. First it will rinse your bladder nice  and clean and second it will
stretch it a little bit. That way you won't have to pee so often." This was
another pain like Pooch had never felt before. There had been so many new
brutalizations over the  past few hours. The need for her pee sack to explode
was so great she could feel nothing else, yet she stayed  still and waited. She
waited for her new masters pleasure. She  stayed still because she knew the
consequence  of doing otherwise. She remembered Marla's words that no matter how
bad something felt it could be made to  feel much worse. Pooch understood how
true these words were.

In no rush Marla reconnected the catheter back to the hose assembly that lead
into the slaves bowels and  released the clamp. To help the flow along Marla put
her arms around her slave, like in a very low bear hug,  made a fist with her
right hand and with the help of her left hand holding the fist she shoved it as
hard as she  could into the tortured bladder. Pooch almost lost what little mind
she had left.  Marla smiled.

This procedure was repeated two more times. By the time the third quart of water
was draining from her  bladder into her bowel it seemed that the pressure at
both ends was almost the same. For safety there was a  one way valve that
prevented any filthy fluid in her colon from backing up into the bladder. With
the help of  her mistress' fist  it was emptied for the last time and the
catheter sealed shut.  Pooch knelt there, her guts cramping, belly distended as
if pregnant.

She awaited her owners will.

Her owner thought it might be a good time to put the front end of her slave to
use again. She wheeled her chair  so that it was right in front of Pooch's head
and then removed her gag.

Slumping in the chair Marla placed her  feet on her chattel's back digging the
spike heels into the slaves sides. Just like spurs she thought. Her ass hole 
moved right to Pooch's waiting mouth.  "Since I am now taking care of your
toilet it seems like a good time for you to start learning your new duties as 
my personal lavatory. You will mine my ass hole with your tongue. To you my shit
is like gold. and my piss is  like the nectar of the gods.  Never give me reason
to think other wise.

When I am totally empty then I will  drain you.." Pooch was actually eager
to start. This would help take her mind of her other troubles and she so had to
expel  the contents of her own colon. She had no doubts about her ability to
perform this foul chore, not after what  she had done during the trial.  Marla
relaxed her tight bud allowing Pooch's tongue to slide inside. The stimulation
of her toilet's tongue felt  very pleasant but it triggered a reflex  causing
her bowels to begin emptying. A large, smelly turd slid out of  Marla's ass and
straight into the mouth of the waiting toilet. Unlike what had happened before
when the  people shitting into her mouth had squeezed off the feces into
manageable mouthfuls Marla had just released  the whole thing. Pooch was stuck
with the log extending from the back of her throat to well outside of her 
mouth.. If she bit it off the end outside of her  mouth would drop to the ground
and she didn't even want to  think about the consequences if that happened. 
"Hurry up I have more." Pooch's mind raced for a solution. She pushed
the turd up to the roof of her mouth with her tongue. A piece  small enough to
swallow separated.  "Mmmmm", the slave exclaimed as she tried to get
it down her gullet without gagging. She remembered about  having to show
enthusiasm. The piece of shit slid down her throat. Pooch sucked more into her
mouth and  repeated the new procedure. As soon as she had finished with the
first Marla positioned her ass hole and this  time intentionally pushed. This
piece was of much softer consistency and not nearly as large. It was followed 
by a copious release of gas. It stung Pooch's lungs. She held her breath.  Out
of no where two knives sunk into Pooch's sides, just above her hips.

Marla had dug in her heels.  Only superhuman effort stopped Pooch from screaming
and spitting out her precious cargo. She did  inadvertently deeply inhale.

"When  I give you the gift of my farts you will show appreciation. Next
time you will try to inhale every last  molecule. Don't you dare ever try to
insult my gift by holding your breath again." With that the pressure from 
her heels eased. Pooch got back to being a toilet.

After swallowing the last bit of her mistress's feces Pooch cleaned her own
mouth using her tongue and  copious saliva. This was to make sure no shit was
transferred to Marla's ass from her mouth as she licked it  clean.  The last
step was to cup  Marla's pussy tightly with her lips transforming her mouth into
her owners urinal.  Maybe because of all the wine she had consumed, Marla was
indeed generous with her flow. Before finishing  she told Pooch to use the urine
to rinse out her mouth before swallowing. "I heard that it makes an
excellent  antiseptic mouth wash," she added. She finished her toilet by
wiping her snatch in her slaves short hair.

The gag was replaced  and the plastic bucket with the top molded to encase her
slaves as was positioned to  accept the contents of Pooch's intestines. 
"Squeeze your shit hole tight until I tell you to release," she was
told.

Marla then released the air out of the plug and yanked the tube out. It was
again forced into Pooch's mouth  through the hole in the gag, so that it could
be tongue washed.  "All right, you can release." A torrent of
yellow-brown fluid gushed from Pooch's gapping anus, along with small chunks.
Again she had a  moment of feeling good. Marla wrapped her arms around the
slaves belly and squeezed to encourage complete  evacuation. She didn't want to
wait around for the emptying any longer than she had to. It still took several 
minutes until Marla was satisfied that all the fluid had been moved out.

The bucket was then moved so that it  rested just below the slaves head. Marla
thought it best that she get used to the odor.  Just one more thing remained on
the agenda before Marla could return to Ed for some sleep. It was now early 
Sunday morning. Her computer had been moved into the room. In its memory was a
recording of each of the  sixteen commandments. Each commandment was a separate
file allowing them to be played back through the  computer in any order. The
choice was made to continuously play back the commandments in random order. 
This way Pooch would learn them better this way.  The playback would be
continuous.

As Marla turned out the light and left the room Pooch heard:  "Commandment
number four. Pooch will not show revulsion to a
command".............................

 "Commandment number one. Pooch will always remember that she is a
slave"..........................

 "Commandment number thirteen. Pooch will not caress
herself"...................................

At  7AM Marla and  Ed were awakened by the sound of Pooch's screams. The healing
machine had come on.  They rolled over and tried to go back to sleep.  Marla had
the satisfaction of a job well done.

Pooch's Story
Part 9 Out of the Frying Pan

There was the sound of stiletto heels again only this time there was two pair.
Something was amiss  in Pooch's dark, hellish world. She couldn't bring herself
to think that release from the block  would be imminent. The extra pair of shoes
would mean only additional torment, something that she  could probably not even
imagine. It had only been twenty minutes since the healing machine had  cycled
off.  Pooch was still shaking, her vagina and cervix felt badly burned, Burning
was a sensation that the slave was  becoming very familiar with.  The shoes
parked one pair on either side of her naked kneeling body. It was Shandra's 
voice that Pooch heard  first.  "The slut has heeled up very well. Most
people would think that she looked  terrible but it's only the color  of the
skin that they would be reacting to. Personally I think the colors are very
beautiful. In any case  that is of no importance. What is important is that all
the breaks have closed up and there are no signs of   infection  or excessive
swelling." Shandra placed the heels of her hands on the center of the
slaves back and  pushed down. "You see she isn't even tender anymore."
Pooch felt her spirit soar. Could this really mean that she would be leaving
this hell hole?  Marla removed the gag from her mouth and gave the slave a stern
warning about not talking and that from  now on she would always keep her mouth
slightly open just in case anyone wanted to use it.     Pooch immediately felt
Shandra's talon like finger nails then fingers invade her mouth. She knew what
to  do and slobbered as much of her saliva on the invading digits as she could.
They had a foul taste which  was revolting to the slave but she didn't dare show
any displeasure.

Shandra began probing her rectum.

The distance she had fallen and the depth of the pit that Pooch found herself
in, began to permeate her  thoughts. A short time ago she had a relationship
that included love, warmth and comfort. She had, almost  always, felt safe. Now
a near total stranger, that tasted like she hadn't washed in weeks, was probing, 
stretching and pinching her rectum. Not only did Pooch not resist, she tried to
part her ass cheeks as  much as possible to make the violation easier. She
worried that she might not be doing enough to stave off  punishment. She would
submit to the most demeaning treatment, without even thinking about it, at the
hands  of unattractive total strangers, constantly aware that for any reason at
all she could be horribly  mutilated or even killed so that someone could have
the pleasure of hearing her scream. The realization  of the irony that her
situation entailed caused more sadness to permeate her heart. Pooch knew that
she  would not only cooperate in her own demise but that she would struggle with
all her might to please her  future assassins and she would be doing it
knowingly.   "Squeeze my fingers 'shit'," barked Shandra. Pooch
contracted her  painful sphincter muscle.  A hand grabbed a hunk of the slaves
hair and viciously ripped back her head.  "When I say squeeze I expect you
to really squeeze hard. I didn't tell you to caress my fingers." The pain
of having a large handful of hair nearly pulled out of her  scalp easily
eclipsed the pain in her  ass. The slave tightened her doughnut with all of her
might. Still the fist in her hair did not relent.  "There isn't any serious
damage here", Shandra spoke to Marla. "The bitch is a little slack. I
recommend  that you give the shit hole a daily work out, especially squeezing
exercises. She'll never please a man  with her shitter if she can't give his
dick a good squeeze."  "I'll get her ass in shape," replied
Marla.  Shandra withdrew her fingers from the slaves ass hole and shoved them
down her throat causing her  victim to gag, stopping her breathing.

"You don't need to breath to clean my fingers," shouted Shandra all
the while pulling on Pooch's hair and  shacking her head.

Her air supply abruptly cut of with no time to prepare Pooch's lungs began to
scream for air almost  immediately. Her panic only sped up the use of the oxygen
in her blood.

Desperately the hysterical prisoner  moved her tongue around and between
Shandra's dirty fingers. The taste of her own feces now dominated her  taste
replacing the taste of her owners last dump a few hours ago. Her tongue worked
furiously even as her  eyes began to bulge beyond their sockets and her lips
turned blue.  Marla didn't interfere. "The slave should get used to being
treated roughly," she thought, and besides  Shandra had much more
experience in these things. Marla would learn from Shandra and anyone else that 
had something to offer.

Just before Pooch passed out Shandra released her hair at the same time letting
her fingers slip out of the  toilet's  throat. There was a frantic gasp for air,
still terrified of failing to please her superior Pooch  didn't stop tonguing
Shandra's fingers clean even though her own head was spinning and her lungs felt
raw.

"You had better get a lot better at controlling your breathing", 
Shandra hissed.. "Do you think any of the studs  that you're going to be
sucking off are going to pull their cocks out of your throat just because you
would like  a little air?  Shit, their gona plunge there gonorrhea infested piss
sticks in as deep as they can until their  done shooting their load and as soon
as one is finished using your throat another one will take  his place. If you're
gona live slut,  you had better learn to get by with a minimum amount of air,
and to do  that you have to relax when your air is cut off. The only thing you
did right was doing your cleaning after  I cut of the air. We'll soon see how
quick you learn."  As she listened to Shandra speak, terrified that she
might miss a word and make a mistake, Pooch began  to see what her future held
and her stomach knotted up. From what she had just been through with a  couple
of fingers she didn't think she could survive if she had to take a thick  cock
down her throat till  climax. The strange thing was the thought excited her
masochistic nature. It had once been a fantasy  of hers, one of her more popular
fantasies. Now, when Pooch could feel fantasy begin to merge with  reality the
arousal was buried beneath a sea of trepidation. She was scarred shitless.

"I recommend a daily workout for her throat. First you want to train the
throat to stretch so it can  accommodate even the largest pecker. Second, she
has to learn to work with no air for as long as  possible. It will preserve her
life. An untrained whore on the set would be dead inside a half hour. A girl 
has got to stretch her gullet just like a garden snake swallowing an egg. If she
can't the guys will just rip  her throat from the inside until they fit. The
cunt usually chokes from blood running into her lungs from the  torn throat and
choking to death. If her throat is accommodating she still has to get an
uncooperative  dick to cum down her throat before she passes out. If she does
most of the guys will just do their own  pumping till they cum and if that takes 
too long the amateur slut won't draw another breath." Shandra went on,
"as for her ass I wouldn't stretch it with anything much more than three
inches thick.  Some of the boys get carried away if they think it's too easy to
shove their fist up a whore's ass. They  think that if she is  easy to enter
that somehow her whole bowel is huge, with the result that they'll try to  shove
too much of their arm up the poor bitch's shit hole rupturing her bowl. After
that it's a very slow and  painful death from peritonitis. I've seen them take a
week to die. It's much better that the men have a  hard time getting their fists
in to begin with." Though the words were not directed at Pooch she found
the vision of her future to be increasingly  terrifying. Sure she had fantasized
about being raped and being forced to take cock up her ass and in  her mouth the
fantasies never included burly arms shoved up her colon and dicks that fucked
her throat  instead of her mouth. A cock in her mouth had never been associated
with fighting for her life in any  fantasy.

"I would like to start training my slave as soon as possible," said
Marla. "You have been a tremendous  help to me already, I was wondering if
I could impose on you some more and have you show me some of your  techniques? I
will make sure that Pooch will more than make up for any inconvenience to
you." The Filipino lady hesitated for a moment. "There are some days
were I get more customers with exotic  tastes than my pain sluts can handle. If
I could borrow her for a day or so sometimes it would help me  out. I would even
share some of the proceeds with you. That would only be good business. I would
keep  her from the most damaging customers so that you wouldn't loose any of
your use of her." "Deal", answered Marla.  "Before we go any
further I'm going to attach Pooch's new collar", Marla went on. I don't
want to take  any chances of her getting away. 'SHIT', the cunt's started her
period", Marla shouted out. "There's going to  be a real mess."
"I know a way to stop it", Shandra said.  "How"? "Show
me the largest syringe that Steve gave you." Marla went over to her desk
and  opened the center drawer. Out of the drawer she pulled a very large  glass
syringe with a needle over half a foot long. She held it up for Shandra to see.

"That's the one", said Shandra. Do you have any of that tit juice
left?" "Yes, quite a bit." "Fill that syringe about half
full", Shandra instructed. "You don't want her to swell too much or
for too  long. And, you will be injecting a much smaller area. Do you want to do
it right now?" "Sure." Marla inserted what was closer to a dagger
than a syringe into a bottle sitting on top of the desk. and  withdrew a stream
of the bee venom mixture.

"I was afraid of using this", said Marla. "It's just so big. I
didn't know where I could stick it." "It goes into her cervix. It
makes it swell so much that the menstrual flow is cut off. The great thing is 
you don't have to worry about the needle. Nobody can see the fuckin' cervix. You
can stick it any which way  you want and the only one that will notice is the
slaves gyno, and he'll probably just stick more holes in  there. It heals very
fast. The swelling lasts a couple of days before the flow begins again. . By
that time  their sure their going to die. With the pressure burning and itching
I can only imagine the hell that the  poor cunts must be going through but their
usually usable for about a day and a half. " "So if I inject her in
the morning I can use her till the following night and she would go through the
worst  of it over night, when I would have put her away anyway?"
"Yes" "Let's do it. How do I begin?", asked Marla"
"If Steve gave you that syringe then he also must have given you a
speculum. When you open her all the  way up you'll be able to see her cervix 
from almost anywhere." Marla retrieved the speculum, also from the center
drawer of her desk.

It was all chrome steel, more  heavily built than any she had ever seen during
her examinations. Its first stop was in Pooch's mouth fore a  little lubrication
while Marla set about removing the steel dildo in her vagina. She disengaged the
probes  protruding from the walls of the  metal intruder anchoring it in slaves
vagina and pulled the rod out.   Pooch's piss hole continued to gape open, not
having had an opportunity to close for almost four days. During  those days
Pooch had wished for nothing more than to be rid of the horrible device that had 
caused her so mush suffering. Now she felt exposed and vulnerable without it.
The  blood covered  dildo replaced the speculum in her mouth.

Marla inserted the spreader and began to open it. The shiny metal felt cold and
hard to the soft lining  of Pooch's vagina. Shandra chuckled commenting that she
kept hers in the freezer. Pooch didn't see the  humor while Marla made a mental
note. This speculum opened using a ratcheting squeeze grip  similar to  what is
found on a caulking gun. The mechanism allowed the user to spread the jaws
quickly and easily  exerting a tremendous amount of force. Marla kept squeezing
the handle until her drudges vaginal walls  felt like steel cord ready to snap.
Pooch bit her lip in distress but she kept quiet.

"Can we secure her at her waist and knees?", asked Shandra. "Even
my best trained whores can't stay still for  the needle up there. She'll soon be
trying to crawl out of her hide."  Some hemp rope was obtained and Pooch's
knees were secured so that they straddled  the block over  which she had knelt
for the better part of a week. Her waist was tied to the block the rope secured
to eye  bolts in the sides. Both Marla and her guest pulled on the rope, using
their feet against the top of the  block for leverage, making sure it was as
tight as they could get it.  With  her slave secured Marla took her first good
look into the gaping twat. She had never seen a girls  insides before.  "Do
you see the dimple in the middle there?", asked Shandra. "That's the
entrance to her womb. In close  to the dimple you can't push the needle in very
deep, maybe a half an inch. You don't want to push it all  the way through
there. About an inch and a half away you can go much deeper, the needle will
just run up  the uterine wall which is quite thick. I usually shoot the poison
into about twelve spots in a spiral  patten away from the middle. Are you going
to do it or do you want me to?" "She's my bitch so I may as well do
it, besides I have to learn".

Marla kneeled behind Pooch's ass holding the syringe in her hand.

Shandra shoved the ball gag back into the  slaves mouth so she would have
something to bite down on.  Pooch broke out into a cold sweat. She couldn't
imagine what she was going to feel but she knew that she  would never forget it.

Her vagina was spread so wide that the first thing that she felt was the tip of
the needle contacting her  cervix near its opening. She tensed digging her
finger nails into the palms of her hands. Marla paused for  a second, checking
the location of the broad needle tip. Satisfied she pushed. At first the flesh
resisted  penetration. Marla pushed a little harder. Pooch's flesh yielded to
the steel. A drop of blood leaked from  the puncture. Pooch's eyes filled with
tears and she began to groan.

Marla kept shoving in the needle  deeper. The groan turned into a cry. Still the
needle went further.

Finally Marla pushed on the plunger  sending in the first dose of the searing
venom. Cries turned to screams.

Pooch would have gladly changed  places with Jesus Christ on the cross. Marla
pulled out the syringe.

"You seem to have a knack for this," said Shandra. "You can see
though, why we had to tie her down.  That was just the first one" When
Marla looked up the slaves cunt she could see the swelling already beginning.
The delicate pink flesh  around the puncture had instantly turned to red.

"Are you sure this is safe?", Marla asked.  "Yea," was the
response. "I do it all the time when my sluts are indisposed for some
special occasion.  If their not allergic to the venom it's no more dangerous
than shooting it in their tits." Reassured and pleased, Marla proceeded
with the rest of the injections.  Pooch could never describe in words the series
of sensations that followed the crunching sound as the  thick syringe broke
through her outer membrane into the meat of her cervix. At first there was a jab
of  sharp pain. It increased until it started to run up the length of her body
right up to her neck equally  sharp along the whole length. It finally reached
all the way to her right eye making it feel as if it were  going to split. No
force in the world, short of one that killed her, could have stopped the
hysterical  screaming. She wanted to die and she wanted it to happen right away. 
Pooch remembered that Marla had told her that no matter how much she hurt that
it could always be  made much worse. After a half dozen injections she couldn't
believe anything could be worse.

Pooch noticed that she could remember just about every word that Marla had ever
said to her. Her  world had become so focused on Marla. Pooch strained to hear
every word for fear of missing something  and having to ask Marla to repeat
herself or facing the risk of being found disobedient because she  hadn't
understood a command or heard it wrong and did something incorrectly. She was
dying and as far  as Pooch knew, she wasn't even being punished for anything.
All that had happened was that her period  had begun at an inconvenient time for
her mistress. She couldn't help that.  Her cervix became increasingly inflamed
and tender. The pain from each new needle puncture eclipsed  the pain of the
last.  From out of the background another sensation began to creep up over the
pain of the piercing. As the  walls of her cervix swelled the organ began to
pulse. sending a very dull throbbing pain that radiated to  fill her entire
pelvis. Even the bone ached. Pooch's body glistened  from sweat.  "Your out
far enough from the center now to push the needle in a lot deeper. It will only
go up the wall of  the uterus. It's quite thick." Shandra's words were
devastating. This wasn't her fault How could they be standing there calmly 
discussing how they could hurt her  more than they already were. Pooch was
suffering as she had never  suffered before, going out of her mind  in pain and
it still wasn't enough for her torturers. How could it be  that anybody could
fail to feel pity for her. If they only felt a little of what she was going
through she  was sure they would, but her mistress had just been instructed to
shove the needle in a lot deeper. Marla had  been so right about always being
able to make her suffering worse. The next puncture went in at least an  inch
and a half. Pooch's voice failed. She threw up all over the floor.

Some of the vomit splashed up on  Shandra's shoes and stockings. All Pooch could
do afterwards was emit a rapid stream of grunts. She  truly sounded more like a
pig than a human being. She was being treated  as though she were worth far 
less. The eleventh injection emptied what was left in Marla's syringe.  For
Pooch, the word violation couldn't begin to describe what she had just gone
through and she had been  absolutely helpless in doing anything about it. 
"After the initial pain wears off and the itch begins she'll fuck anything
big enough to scratch the entry to  her womb. She'd fuck a horse if you let her.
It can lead to some interesting scenarios seniorita." Marla had no real
liking for her Filipino guest. She thought she was vulgar and had definitely let
herself  go, still she had to admit that Shandra was extremely knowledgeable in
getting the most out of her whores.  Without Shandra, Marla would have never
thought of doing what she had just done. She wondered what  else she would learn
from her today .

For Pooch the fact that the monstrous syringe had stopped punching holes out of
her cervix only meant  that she could now better focus on the effects of the
poison. As it spread through the fibers of her  flesh more nerve endings became
irritated. Her insides began to burn.

Capillaries opened up gorging the  cervix and lower uterus with blood and
causing more swelling and heating. She began to hyperventilate. As  the cervix
continued to swell it pushed against her bladder.  It hadn't been emptied since
diner last night. Urine was beginning to back up into her kidneys. The 
interplay between her bulging cervix and bulging bladder was interesting to say
the least. Neither organ  could be reduced in volume from compression, instead,
as they push against each other their shape changes  They both get flatter and
wider. This caused them to push against other organs like the large intestine 
and uterus even pushed against her ovaries. The easiest of all directions for
the cervix to grow was   straight down into the slaves vagina, inverting the
opening into the womb as it grew. This caused  tremendous stretching of her
opening walls at the head of her cervix. A similar inversion  occurred at  the
other end of the birth passage. It was inverting into her womb with similar
distention of the  surface. The next time Marla and Shandra looked inside their
subjects dick canal they would see her now  scarlet red cervix within a couple
of inches of the vaginal sphincter.

"You noticed that you didn't use anywhere near the  entire length of your
needle." Shandra intoned. "The  reason for both its length and its
diameter is so that if for any reason your slut hasn't resumed a good  flow
within fourty eight hours you have to go in and extract the slime from her
uterus by drawing it out  with the syringe. You push the needle in, right up to
the hilt, following her opening with the tip of the  needle. This can be slow
because depending on the swelling the tip might not emerge into the womb for
four  or five inches. You then draw out any fluid." Shandra went on,
"I make my whores eat their period. It helps them recover lost nutrients
and is in the  interest of their own good health.  Of course they have to fight
to see who will eat mine. The lucky slut  gets to sleep with her mouth wrapped
around my snatch and then follow my pussy around all day catching  my drippings.
Back to the subject. As you fail to fill the syringe you pull it out a bit
further and draw on  it some more pulling in any liquid until the needle tip is
at the entrance and you can't get any more fluid.  Repeat it four hours later
and then again next day. If she isn't draining in two days then phone Steve, but 
not sooner. These problems work themselves out almost all the time so you don't
want to disturb the  doctor without good reason." Shandra noticed Pooch was
hyperventilating. She interlaced her fingers making a tight ball then sent them 
crashing, from over her head, into the very center of Pooch's back knocking the
wind out of the helpless girl.  Never let them hyperventilate. They do it to get
high and dull their senses to the pain. It can cause brain  damage."
"Thanks for the tip." Marla walked up to Pooch's sweat drenched head
squatted in front of her, shoes standing in the vomit,  and cradled Pooch's
dripping head on her lap She had layered a series of rags on her skirt so that
it  wouldn't get dirty. Curiously Marla felt no revulsion from all the foul
matter. It was as though Pooch  was not just her property Pooch was an integral
part of her and normal people are not repelled by their  own filth. Marla began
to clean Pooch's face First wiping it gently with a warm moist cloth and then 
drying of her whole head in a thick towel. When she had finished Marla continued
to stroke Pooch's hair,  then her face, being more tender than she had ever been
with any man knowing what her whimpering drudge  had just gone through; though
how could she really have any idea what it was like and what the abuse 
continued to do to her captives female organs? After several minutes of stroking
Marla began to talk softly to her charge.  "It's not fortunate for you that
Shandra is here today. I'm sure that you will have to go through this many 
times in the future because of her. You might even get used to it, though I
doubt it. The good thing is  that it will help me to get better use out of you
making you available to perform tasks that you might not  otherwise be able to
do on that day. You should feel happy that your mistress now has a tool to
control  your nasty period with, if she wants to." Marla continued to
stroke her slaves face. "It won't be like this  all the time. As you truly
become my slave and release all of your will to my direction there will be more
and  more times were you to will enjoy bliss. How fast this happens will depend
a lot on you. Right now  though, you are a long way from being the slave that I
intend to make you. Unfortunately, for you,  the molding  tool that I am going
to use the most is pain. Heavy, monstrous, terrifying, agonizing,  will
destroying, ego crushing, unbearable pain, though you will find that you will
indeed bear all the pain that  I will give you. Today you will start your
training in surrendering to me. We will also have to address  punishing you for
those outstanding infractions. You will learn that I take punishment very
seriously  and I  will expect no less from you." "I am now going to
attach your new collar around your neck. It will probably feel heavy at first
because of  all the metal and batteries. It does have a leather covering. Once
this collar is fastened around your neck  it can't come of, there is no
unlocking mechanism. I expect that you will wear it the rest of your life. The 
collar works like those invisible fence collars dogs wear. Sensors guard the
perimeter of the property. If  you cross the boundary you will get an electrical
jolt to your neck strong enough to knock you out. You  will try it out later on
so that you have no doubt in your mind that there is no chance for you  to get 
across. You can't shove enough insulating material between the collar and your
neck because the voltage  is too high. You can't cut through it because there
are numerous trip wires that trigger the collar when  cut. Only I control the
collar with my remote control. I can turn it off if you have to be transported 
anywhere and I can set it of at any time if I feel you have gotten out of hand.
It's got four shiny chrome steel  rings for lots of attachment points. The
collar even has your name engraved in the leather. It says, 'Pooch -  TOILET
SLAVE ' on the brightest shiniest red leather that you ever saw.

I think it's very attractive."  Marla splayed open the collar and wrapped
it around Pooch's neck. She brought the two ends of the shiny  red collar
together behind her neck  and snapped  it shut forever. The bright collar along
with the  rhinestone  trim around the lettering immediately drew the eye to it.

"I am sure you will be pleased with how beautiful the collar looks on you
as soon as you get a chance  to look in a mirror," Marla said.
"Speaking of looking I think it's about time that the blindfold came off as 
well as the other restraints. Shandra, perhaps you might release her ankle cuffs
and untie her knees while I  free her front end. I left a new pair of leg irons 
on top of the desk.

You might fit her with those." Marla directed her next comments at her
slave while undoing the lock on the blindfold which had kept  Pooch's attentions
focused on her own inner world for four days.   "You will find the new
irons much more comfortable then the old pair that you wore. They are made  from
a light weight titanium alloy, much harder than steel. All the corners are
rounded so as not to cut  your skin and the links in the chain have been coated
in plastic so that you won't scratch the floor or  make a lot of noise. You will
find these things important since I expect few moments, other than those 
requiring access to your crotch with spread legs, that you will not be wearing
them." Although the morning was overcast, after being without light for so
long Pooch was dazzled by the  brightness streaming in through the large library
window.  So that was where she had been confined all this  time. She was careful
to direct her gaze to the floor, though she was eager to explore her
rediscovered  world of light.  As her superiors fumbled with the restraints
Pooch saw her breasts dangling in the air. Her first reaction  was to close her
eyes and clear her sight. When she reopened them nothing had changed. They had
felt  large and heavy during her confinement. Pooch had attributed that to the
length of time that she had  been forced to stay in the kneeling position with
the boobs dangling over the edge of the box. What she  saw, however, was
something she could hardly believe. These weren't breasts they were large, ripe 
watermelons, painted in Halloween colors and covered with dozens and dozens of
small scabs where the  needles had penetrated. The skin was still very tight,
although the swelling was down  from its maximum.  As the reality sunk in that
the huge udders were indeed hers a new sense of horror began to impinge on  her
consciousness. She looked like a freak. She could never hope to disappear into a
crowd. Where ever  she was people would stare at her. How could they help it,
with her watermelon sized tits and bright red  collar that said toilet slave.
Did the depths of her mistresses cruelty know no bounds? "I see that you've
noticed your new rack," Marla said. "Impressive isn't it? After the
surgery it should  be even bigger. Time to stand up".

After the beatings that she had endured and the endless days confined on her
hands and knees standing up  was not something that would come easily. Every
joint had grown stiff with time. She tried to stand as  quickly as she could
though it wasn't quickly enough for her mistress.  "Hurry up we haven't got
all day", Marla said, clearly irritated. "You will learn that I hate
being kept  waiting".

With that Pooch saw the little metal tipped whip Marla was dangling in her hand,
with which she had become  acquainted at the beginning of her stay in the
infirmary, disappear from view only to hear it whistle  through the air  and
crack in between her shoulder blades. Pooch could only gasp, in response the
skin  ripping sting. She redouble her efforts to stand up. As she stood her
heavy udders  pulled on her  shoulders and tightened  the skin. The weight was
uncomfortable and very unnatural. To add to her  discomfort, the change in
position of her bags made them ache all over again. The swelling of here uterus 
down into her vagina created the sensation of having a large dildo up her twat.
Under the circumstances  it just made getting around even more awkward. At the
very least her mistress could let her pee. Doesn't  Marla realize that her
kidneys could be damaged, Pooch thought. The torment in her bladder and kidneys 
was beginning to rival that of her tortured cervix. Her mind raced from one pain
to another, making it  very difficult to concentrate on anything else. Her
balance was still unsteady.  Marla again spoke up. The cut across her back stung
like blazes. Pooch tried to listen. She felt so  terribly exposed, so terribly
naked and so sore.  "You will be responsible for all of the care and
maintenance of this household. You will do all the  cooking, all the cleaning,
including laundry, and all other services that are required of you. That
includes  performing the most intimate of services in any way that you're
instructed. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME SO  FAR..."  Marla screamed directly into
Pooch's ear.  It made Pooch feel so small and worthless. She believed that Marla
was intentionally trying to damage her  hearing just to make it more difficult
to obey.  Pooch was right. Marla saw no reason for good hearing in a slave.

Partial deafness  would only force the  slave to be more attentive, to stay
closer. Marla was still at the stage where she couldn't get enough of 
dominating her toy. If she could she would play with her toy, shaping it, 24
hours per day. She imagined  she would be brought to orgasm by the thrill of
laying on a good hiding to the struggling screaming bitch.  She couldn't wait to
find out. Marla decided that morning that if Pooch was well enough to leave the 
infirmary she was well enough to receive the punishment that she was due.  Marla
began to feel angry when she thought about the slaves most serious infraction;
trying to talk Ed into  letting her escape. The slut was going to break her
agreement with Ed when she found out that Ed had handed  over her ownership to
Marla. Marla thought, "the slut hates me".

The feeling she was hated made it easier for Marla to try and be especially
cruel to Pooch.

Pooch nodded her head indicating that she understood.

Marla went on. "I will be watching you all the time looking for faults.

When  I find a fault with you I  will record it and you will be punished for it.
That means if I find just one crumb on the kitchen floor  when I get up in the
morning  you will be punished. When I administer punishment I always believe
that you  get away with far more than what you get caught for. When there is any
doubt in my mind the doubt will not  be decided in your favor. I will be looking
not only at your performance but also your attitude. I don't care  how well you
eat pussy, if the person your eating doesn't believe that your having the most
wonderful  experience of your miserable life, you are in big trouble."
"This is roughly your schedule," Marla went on. At four thirty in the
morning you will go to the kitchen to  make fresh croissants and clean the
floors and counters. You will have prepared our breakfast for seven  o'clock
according to instructions from the day before. I will have breakfast in my night
cloths and be  sitting in the toilet chair." Marla paused...........
"You remember, ...the chair from the trial. I'll be  having my morning pee
and dump in your mouth while I have breakfast.

That will also be your breakfast. I  imagine Ed will pee in your mouth as well.
My dessert will be your tongue licking me spotlessly clean." 
"Afterwards you will wash the breakfast dishes and help me dress. Whom ever
leaves the house last will  put you in the pit till we get back. The time that
you spend in the pit is considered sleep time. It's the  most restful place that
you will ever be. Even though I have made the house virtually escape proof for
you I  will not trust you alone in the house.

"Your lunch will come down the feeder pipe. I expect everything sent down
the pipe to end up in your  stomach. If you feel like relieving yourself then
feel free to go on the floor; otherwise you have to wait  till one of us gets
home. Then you can go in the bucket....outside. The only place you will ever
relieve  yourself  inside the house is in the pit. DO YOU UNDERSTAND!!!",
Marla screamed into Pooch's other  ear causing the slave to cringe at the verbal
assault.  Pooch quickly nodded her head again. Both her ears were ringing.

"After our return you will be released to make dinner and general house
cleaning including laundry. By the  way, the washing machine has already been
removed and replaced by an extra wash tub. You will do  laundry every day and
you will do it by hand." "At nine-thirty you will make yourself
available to us in the living room. That doesn't give you much time  for your
chores so you had better work fast. At that time you will either entertain us
with your charms or  you will undergo training so that you may become better at
your work." "At around midnight you will receive your evening meal and
then help us prepare for bed. While we sleep you  will spend the night tongue
cleaning every inch of the master washroom and available to be my  personal
toilet or anybody else's toilet paper. You see, as your collar, and latter on
your brands,  indicate your prime role will always be as the household toilet
slave.

Your mouth will take in any and all  of my excrement directly, I will even try
to train myself not to use the bathroom while outside the house.  Your tongue
will replace the toilet paper for everybody else that may be here. I have gone
so far as to  remove the toilet paper dispensers from all the washrooms in the
house.

At four-thirty the electronic lock  will release you from the washroom so that
you may go to your personal preparation area that has been  prepared for you in
the playroom. There you will shower, shave and apply your makeup. I will warn
you now  that urinating while showering will not be tolerated and you will be
caught if you try. There are now  surveillance cameras in every room of the
house that lock on to the signal from your collar and track  your every
movement. They can also pick up every sound you make." "The telephones
all require an access code to be used. You can be sure that there will be a
record of any  failed dialing attempts. Alarms will also be triggered if you try
to enter any area of the house where  you are not supposed to be at the time.
You will be videotaped, for review, twenty-four hours a day. I  will be playing
an on going game with you where you will find circumstances that appear to be
favorable  for escape. I will be hoping that you try. Trying to escape my
control will be the most brutally punished  offense of all and I will enjoy
every second." "As you,  no doubt, realize I have already spent a
small fortune on toys for you and installing security  devices throughout the
house. I imagine the bill from Steve for the physical modifications I want done
to  you will not be steep. I don't intend for you  to cost me money. You will
more than earn your keep and  pay back all of my expenses. For that reason your
schedule will frequently be interrupted to allow me to  rent you out to groups
and individuals that have a need for a pain slut-toilet slave like yourself.
Mark  and Garret are already interested in using you in films. You remember they
put together the Jasmine video.  Jordan said he could use at certain parties.
I'm sure that as people see the uses that you can be put  through demand for
your time will grow." "Now before I show you your new clean up
facility there is still the matter of all this  vomit everywhere.  You will lick
it of our hose and shoes, so we don't track it throughout the house, and then
you will go to  the kitchen and bring back your feeding bowl, which you will see
on the floor, and a rubber spatula. I want  every last bit scraped off the floor
and placed into the bowl. I won't have any food go to waste, it will  be your
lunch today." Each dominatrix chose a seat in the library. Marla chose her
recliner while Shandra chose the Louis XIV red  velvet chair. Both ladies sat
tall and straight, legs crossed, shoe presented for licking by a willing 
tongue.  "I want you to spend most of the time licking the bottoms of the
shoes," Marla addressed Pooch in an  exaggerated dominant voice.  
"Start with the hose and quickly clean down until you get to the soles and 
heels.  That's where you belong anyway, and that's where you will clean the
most. I want your tongue  in  every seem, every nook and every cranny. Every pit
and seem better be dust free. You will make sure that by  the time your finished
the sole will be the cleanest part of the shoe.

Start with my guest."  Pooch hurting really badly was afraid that they
would hurt her again if she didn't do her job right. The  slave literally dove
back onto her hands and knees right by Shandra's dangling foot.  Pooch thought,
"Shandra's the one that told Marla how to torture  my cunt and
cervix". The cold steel  spreader had stretched her so wide open that her
pussy hole still looked like a gaping mouth. She  wondered what else this
hideous, cruel, woman would tell her mistress the she would regret? How many  
more tortures would Marla learn from her. Without really thinking about it Pooch
started picking off the  flakes of vomit from the nylon using her pursed lips
and then cleaning of her lips with her tongue. She  looked like a bird pecking
at grubs.  Pooch used this cleaning technique all the way down to the tops of
Shandra's shoes. Shandra was only  splashed a little when Pooch had brought up
the contents of her stomach, mostly Marla's morning dump.  Pooch didn't think
she could eat it again. When her nose first came in contact with the sole of  
Shandra's shoe, Marla instructed her to use her tongue on the soles of the
shoes. What was there was  mostly just street dirt.  Marla's shoes were another
story. She had stood in and walked around in the barf totally oblivious too  it.
Marla had always been neat and meticulous in everything she did.

Now, at least as long as she was at  home, she was released from her former
habits. She could live in an environment even more clean, neat  and organized
without lifting a finger  to keep it that way. It would be fun to find out just
how much of  a slob she could become and still have her slave keep up with  the
housekeeping. Walking around, oblivious  to the filth on the floor, was just a
start in her new life style. She would never wipe the mud from her  boots again,
or put away her cloths or do the dishes or clean or wash or iron or make the bed
or cook or  even take out the garbage. She could toss the breakfast dishes on
the floor and wake way every morning  if  the notion overtook her. She could
shit on the sofa and Pooch would have to clean it up. She'd  deliberately mess
things up as she walked by just to leave a trail.

Marla so looked forward to the change,  it would be so much fun.

Marla addressed her nervous boot licker who was busy wearing off the surface of
her tongue, "sometimes  when I see you doing something in a way that I
don't like I'll warn you about it. Don't take these warnings  lightly, they are
an act of mercy to help you adapt to your new life. My suggestions will stop
soon enough  and be replaced by sterner measures." "When you begin
licking my shoes I expect you to get much more into it.

Remember that cleaning my  shoes is a privilege that you would kill to
perform,....... dear. I didn't create the third commandment just  to pass the
time. I know full well that your whole body probably feels like one raw nerve
ending, but that's  entirely your problem and of no concern to mine. Get used to
that idea.

If your too sick to perform you  can always be put in the infirmary otherwise I
will treat you as though you are perfectly fit. I haven't  reset the healing
machine yet. Would you like to go back to the block?" Marla's voice was
without the  faintest sign of humor or warmth..

The cold voice chilled Pooch. The feeling of debasement was pushed aside for the
moment to allow  renewed concentration on her task and even more fear of her
merciless future. She wasn't throwing aside  her humanity quickly enough. The
fact that she could only survive by becoming some other animal, a much  lower
animal, that didn't feel shame, had no self respect, no desires or dreams. She
would have to go  through life totally devoted to pleasing everyone around her
at her own expense, ignoring her own pain be  it physical or emotional. Pooch
was finding it difficult to turn into this animal. She knew that the  sooner she
did the sooner she would relieve herself of much of the pain.

For now she would suffer the pain  It was so hard.

"Come over here and start on mine," ordered Mistress Marla.  Pooch
stopped immediately scurrying as fast as she could to her mistresses dangling
foot. Hurriedly she  struggled to clean her mouth so she wouldn't get any vomit
stuck on her lips or tongue on Marla's shoe.  She caressed the shoe using the
deepest recesses of the insides of her lips. and the fronts of her gums.  Pooch
was afraid to use her tongue on the top of the gray pumps. She could taste the
blood on her tongue  from washing Shandra's shoe's. Pooch rubbed vigorously yet
with deep sensuality. She groaned in  pleasure as her lips looked for specks of
shit on the  filthy shoes.

Pooch held her legs wide apart to  show her subservience. She thought she could
use the sides of her tongue more when she did the final  cleaning of the soles.

Shandra added her opinion, "a lot of times your attitude can save you from
an otherwise failed  performance. If you can fake an orgasm with a gorilla sized
cock completely plugging your throat and a  dildo that's way too large ripping
through your anal ring in the fist of a man that's not only going to force  it
up your ass but fuck your ass with it too, you will be a lot better off. Nobody
has any sympathy for slaves  that have to be forced to do everything while
kicking and screaming.

They always get it the most of all because  they're not even trying to live. The
criers and beggars don't fare a whole lot better. They are seen as  juvenile and
pathetic not motivated to become good slaves and instead taking the easier route
of  becoming cry babies. Trying hard and showing eagerness and pleasure will
save a slave like you many  beatings. Of course, if you are one that enjoys a
good tit whipping or having a catheter shoved  into  your uterus and inflating a
balloon on the end till you look six months pregnant, then I suggest the  crying
and begging approach. It will ensure that you get lots of extra torture."
Pooch was now having to swallow mouthfuls of brought up, cold, shit. Her
mistress's shoe bottoms were  covered in it.  Her stomach revolted at the
acidic, bitter crud she was swallowing but as it would come  up to her throat
Pooch would just force it back down. Feeding time was not an event to look
forward to  any longer but lunch would be a meal Pooch would prefer to do
without   Pooch began to think that what she had gotten into was her own fault.

She had been able to walk away  and her own needs and insecurities had caused
her to turn down the opportunity. The vomit in the floor  was the result of her
own lack of control. She needed to be dominated but on her own terms like
before,  not like what was happening now. This was insanity and she had no
choice but to adapt to it. Her bed  had been made and now she would have to
sleep in it.

Pooch cleansed her mistress's shoes for almost twenty minutes while she chatted
with Shandra about  things of no importance. Finally bored of this form of
attention Marla ordered her drudge to scoop up  the vomit on the floor into her
bowl  and then report to the playroom where she would clean herself up.  After
almost five days of not washing this had some appeal to the poor slave though
she suspected that  Marla would find a way to eliminate any pleasure.

 The walk to the basement dungeon turned out to be a real eye opener.

During the time of her confinement  it appeared that an army had marched through
the house and deliberately vandalized it. Marla had made  sure not to do any
task that might be considered slave work. Cloths had been dropped  and left
everywhere. Dirt had been tracked throughout the house by dirty shoes. The
kitchen was a  disaster area with dirty dishes not only piled up on the table
but when there was no more room,  strewn on the floor. The sink was empty. As
she passed the downstairs powder room Pooch could smell  the unflushed toilet
and see towels covered with brown stains on the floor. Marla had said that there
would be  no more toilet paper used in the house. Obviously she had meant it. 
There was all ready some new decor scattered around the house. Hanging on the
wall in the hall Pooch  passed a small scourge. It hung with all six tails
spread out like a fan, hanging down. It's length,  including the handle, looked
to be only about two feet. Pooch had been whipped by far more menacing 
instruments  than that. Except. None of them had been barbed. Each tail had at
least two, some had three rusted iron  barbs.

Just an hour ago Pooch had felt as if she were in hell itself. As she walked
through the house she began to  see that she was only now begining to walk in
through the gates.

Pooch's Story
Part 10 Into the Fire (I)

What Pooch noticed about the state of the house she caught mostly out of the
corners of her eyes. She dared not appear tardy  as she rushed to  the kitchen.
She noticed some pain in her feet from the canning  but paid no  attention. 
Once in the kitchen she found a spatula, still resting in a dirty frying pan.
She picked it up and then looked to the floor for her feeding bowl.

What she found was a stainless steel dog bowl with the humiliating,  ever
present 'Pooch - Toilet Slave' scrawled on the side, in what looked like red
lipstick. Also on the floor, by the door leading to the basement stairs there
was a curious looking wooden bucket. A brass plate on the side  said 'Royal
Navy.' Over the edge of the bucket hung a handle fashioned from twisted rope,
from which ran a multitude of  knotted tails.  Pooch couldn't make out how many.
The bucket was filled with what appeared to  be water. Both the bucket and the
rope were dark with age. With bowl and tool in hand Pooch ran as fast as her
hobbled legs would go, back to the library.

Pooch cleaned up the mess on the floor filling the feed bowl.  By the time she
arrived at the playroom door she was out of breath, frightened of what she maybe
facing next. She was sure that someone would say that she had taken too long,
earning her more punishment.  She  appreciated the smooth finish with rounded
edges on her leg irons. Her shins were being spared a great deal of injury.
Pooch had found something to be thankful for, humane irons. Her legs were still
being bruised by the  hard metal though the level of pain was bearable. Injury
no longer mattered.

What was important now was how much pain could she tolerate and still obey her
lady, Mistress Marla. If she had two broken legs and Marla  told her to stand
and walk Pooch would have stood up an walked. She would do whatever she was told
as best she could. Her mind kept giving her pictures of the new whips she had
just seen. As Pooch walked down the  cellar stairs she began to fell uncertain
if she would ever come out.

Yet, her fear of Marla was greater than her fear of death. That was the only
reason why she walked down the stairs. Fear of what would happen to her if  she
tried to escape, forced even the word itself to be vanquished from her mind.
Even thinking about it could get her into trouble. She had been told that she
would be watched all the time. She didn't stand a chance.    Marla was giving
her guest a tour of the playroom when a very pale Pooch stepped inside. It had
changed. A half dozen cages of different shapes and sizes lined the left wall.
From the mid point of the right wall  protruded a six foot, wood beam, eight
inches square, secured to the wall by steel hinge and held parallel to the floor
by a chain running from the front of the beam to an anchor bolt set deep into
the wall behind it. A  winch had been installed above the lid covering the pit.
Pooch supposed that this was  to allow Marla to open the pit without Ed's help.
Scattered around the perimeter of the floor there were all kinds of stocks that
Pooch  had never seen before Standing in the back, right corner was a gallows
straight out of a western movie. A rope, tied into a hangman's knot dangled from
a broad wood beam, over the low platform on which the victim stood.  Lack of
height in the cellar room prevented the platform from being any higher than two
feet. The sight of the gallows sent a chill through the slaves spine.

In the near right corner, occupying a significant portion of the  room stood a
circular steel tank. It was constructed from panels that bolted together
allowing it to be disassembled for transport. It stood six feet high with a
diameter of about eight feet. Some of the panels had  round windows allowing
spectators to view what was happening inside. On the top edge of the tank there
was an electrical hoist attached to a swing arm. The arm just barely fit under
the ceiling beams.

Pooch wondered just how much money Marla had spent on all the new equipment.

How  would she possibly make it all back, as Marla had said she would.

"Get over here now you piece of shit!!", Marla bellowed., "and I
want you to crawl. From now on when you enter this room or  move around here you
will crawl." Pooch scurried across the floor to her mistress's waiting
feet. Her udders, once again, hung down from her chest just inches above the
floor.  "Put your face on the floor," Marla barked. "Your
forehead, nose and lips are to touch the floor, thighs straight up, showing off
your ass and your knees spread wide. Don't you be trying to hide your crotch
from  anyone. Now interlace your fingers behind your neck and point your elbows
straight out. This will be called the 'worship' position. This will be the
posture you assume automatically after you crawl to anybody's feet.  Pooch
complied, her face in intimate contact with the floor.

"Now keeping your knees and arms where they are, straighten up your back
but keep your head bowed. This is the 'kneel' position. Remember that until told
otherwise your eyes stay focused on the floor. You may now  look around your new
clean up facility" The first thing Pooch's eyes focused on was her own
reflection  in the broken mirror stuck onto the wall.  Looking back at her was
someone she didn't recognize at all. The eyes were nearly swollen shut from
constant crying. The edge of her lower eyelid underlined the red eye balls with
a similarly colored line. Snot ran down  her bulbous, red nose, hanging on her
upper lip. The bright red collar with its humiliating inscription screamed out
her lowly status for all to see. From her knees Pooch could only see down to her
shoulders. Even  so it was clear that the skin was being pulled hard by her
heavy bags.  Below the mirror a small shelf, cut from rough lumber, served to
hold an assortment of cosmetics and an old hairbrush. These were Marla's
castoffs. Marla was glad they had found some use. In the corner a copper pipe 
that had been taped into the main water line, ran  down at a small angle away
from the wall. A valve had been attached to control water flow.

Below the valve there was another short length of pipe that had been capped 
off. Small holes had been drilled through the cap creating a makeshift shower
head. On the floor lay the rest of the cleaning implements, a toilet brush,
tooth brush, a bar of soap and a disposable razor. All but the soap  were well
worn. Off to the side was a large jar of bag balm and a towel so threadbare it
was possible to see right through it.  "You'll visit this corner at least
two times per day, once early in the morning and once after being taken out of
the pit. you'll also visit this corner before and after a performance. In the
early morning I will give you twenty- five minutes to shower, shave, brush your
teeth and put on makeup.

Subsequent visits are fifteen minutes because you don't need to shave.

You will use the toilet brush to apply the soap and work it into your skin.  You
are to cover every inch of your body. You use the same brush to rinse of the
soap. Use the same soap on the tooth brush when you clean your teeth. After your
shower you will towel yourself off and then kneel in  front of the mirror. You
brush your hair, which is now going to be allowed to grow long so that it can be
used  as a rag. The minimum makeup you are  required to wear is skin cover up,
mascara, eye liner, eye shadow, lipstick   and blush. You will also apply skin
cover over your udders and crotch. I don't want to see bruising in those areas 
after they have been made up. I want everyone to think that these areas haven't
been adequately abused yet. You will find a blush for your nipples  and pussy
lips on the shelf, as well.  Usually you will find items on the shelf other than
just cosmetics. You will obey the instructions, included with the items. It
might be special  clothing or shoes, or maybe restraints or clamps. It could be
anything.

After the allotted amount of time the light over the mirror will turn itself off 
and it will become too dark to see much. Don't forget that you are my  whore and
I want you to look the part."  The irony of the situation was noted by
Pooch. She would spending all this time and effort trying to look her best only
to have her mistress' filth shoved into her mouth and spread over her face soon
after her shower.  These women were being meticulous at turning every small
pleasure she might feel into pure misery. She would sleep in the hellish pit,
hurt her self while bathing, eat shit and be fucked in a manner that would put
her very life at risk.

There was a method to Marla's madness. Marla believed that if she were the only
possible source of pleasure for Pooch her control over the slave would be much
stronger. It is much easier to surrender to pleasure than it is to surrender to
pain. In this case Marla just happened to play both parts. Pooch didn't stand  a
chance. Eventually Pooch would see her as a source of  pleasure and make it
easier for her to surrender to her mistress completely.

Pooch would obey from both the fear of pain and for the love, perverse as it may
be, of her mistress. Marla showed Pooch the switch that would turn on the light
above the mirror and flipped it on.

"You had better be quick  once the light is turned on. You will stand to
turn on the water. Turn it on all the way. To save time adjusting water
temperature the only water you will get is cold. After the water is on you will
then lower yourself for the remainder of the shower staying on your knees or
sitting on the floor. You can get started. Since this is your first time I will
instruct you in the way that I want things done as we go along." Pooch
scampered to her feet to turn on the flow of water  then returned to her knees
underneath the broad, chilling streams emanating from the pipe. At first the
cold took her breath away but the urgency to get herself clean and made up in
time didn't allow her to dwell on the cold. She grabbed the old toilet brush and
began to soap it up.

"You will pay particular attention to your crotch, udders, the soles of
your feet and your face. I want them well scrubbed. There is a camera installed
near the ceiling. When you are cleaning yourself I want the brush to be between
you and the camera. Not only I will be reviewing your bath but scores of others
will be as well,  around the world on closed circuit television. I think a lot
of people will tune in just to see how your appearance and attitude changes from
day to day. Your first punishment session is a pay per view event." Marla
realized the tone she set for this first cleaning  would be followed by all
subsequent sessions. Again luck was not on Pooch's side. Marla was determined to
start her slaves day off on the right foot.  "When you scrub your crotch 
make sure that it's facing the camera. The best way is to lie on your back and
raise your legs up past your head.

keeping those knees of yours spread..That way the cameras will be sure to get a
great view of both your shit hole and your piss hole. I want you to scrub both
those holes well for your audience........... Scrub harder!" Marla yelled. 
"Now grab one of your nipples between your thumb and your
forefinger.......... Now pinch it hard.........Keeping on the pressure lift up
that udder............ Keeping your bag where it is scrub the underside just
like  you just scrubbed your cunt.......... Good. Now do the other bag just the
same way."   It was late autumn and the municipal water was quite cold. 
Pooch was nearly frozen.

Her skin pale, from the blood retreating out of her skin to try and keep her
insides warm.  Patches of skin, in her crotch, that had just started to heal
were scraped off exposing raw meat. Marla, then  directed Pooch's attention to
her udders. Pooch had to continually squeeze hard on her own nipple or the heavy
bag would slip out of her grip while it was being scrubbed. Marla wanted to see
all of the little needle  scabs scraped of. That way when Pooch made-up the
oversized globes, they would look like they had never been touched by a whip. 
Pooch was surprised that the scrubbing pain would reach a certain intensity and
then level off.

She saw it as a small victory, her first since becoming Marla's property. It
raised hope in Pooch.

Maybe the same would be true in other punishments. Maybe they would all reach a
maximum level of pain beyond which she wouldn't have to endure. The thought gave
Pooch some new strength.  Marla continued to instruct her captive.

"When you're scrubbing the top and sides of those melons I want them
supported only by your holding on to the nipples. Don't hold them in the palm of
your hand..........  Good......Now turn your back to the camera while you scrub
it...........

Put more soap on the brush.......... Turn around again and do your
arms............ Now your neck and face...........Smile for the
camera........You can hold the soap in your hand to lather your hair. That's the
only time I will allow you to use your hands directly is when washing your
hair................ Using the brush to help get the soap off your skin rinse
yourself off except where you are going to shave................... I see that I
have left the catheter  in and it might get in the way of your shave. "
Marla screamed, "Pull it out." Pooch was kneeling at the time. The
reluctant slave was beginning to understand what Marla expected of her. She
didn't want to be accused of hiding her  assets, so with her legs spread for the
camera, and trying to show enthusiasm  Pooch  twisted the small tube around
three of her fingers and gave it an enthusiastic pull. She pulled hard enough to
lift a concrete block but the balloon only moved part way into  her urethra.
Most of it remained in her bladder. Pooch collapsed onto the floor writhing in
the agony that she  had just inflicted onto her self.

Her hands instantly reached to cover and soothe her cunt. Pooch didn't scream 
but only because she had already lost her voice.   Marla had earlier prepared a
pair of  five foot bullwhips with tails of extremely coarse and hard buffalo
hide.  She retrieved them and handed one to Shandra.  The whorehouse keeper
cracked it in the air a few times to get a feel for  this marvelous training
tool.  Then all hell broke loose. The tail crashed into  Pooch's skin right on
her collar bone.

Liquid fire screamed to her brain. The slave was in shock. Her hands reflexively
jerked away from her cunt trying to cover her sliced collar bone.

Marla, not nearly as sure of her aim as her guest, swung her whip at the girls
now unprotected belly. The bullwhip  connected  a little low slamming into Pooch
directly over her bladder. Pain racked her slender frame both high and low.

One hand stayed under her shoulders the other jerked back down to her belly.. 
One of Marla's faults, in the outside world, was that she was short tempered.

This made it difficult for her to form close relationships. In this domain, her
short  temper was only a problem for her slave, which is to say, no problem at
all. Pooch's reflexive attempt to cover up lit her mistress' short fuse.

"KNEEL!!! you stupid cunt. Marla screamed. It was so loud and unexpected
that even Shandra was startled.  Somehow it registered in the slaves mind. Pooch
realized that she had gotten herself into a world of trouble and got back on her
knees placing her hands behind her neck as she had been instructed to while in
the  kneeling position.  Marla continued to scream. "You stupid, stupid,
stupid little shit. I give you an order and you don't even try to carry it out.
Then, when I try to provide some encouragement to help you out you try to cover
up. " She went on in a calmer voice. "Shandra and I are going to have
a little contest.  Where going to see which one of us can get in the most
strokes while you pull out your plumbing.

I suggest you use both hands, and don't worry about the tube breaking, it's made
from Kevlar...... You can start as soon as you feel the first lash. Don't you
dare  screw up!" The two women attacked her back with the whips. Shandra
laid down stripes lengthwise sending her whip over the slaves shoulders down
toward her waist.

Marla cut across the back,her stripes intersecting Shandra's   at ninety
degrees. The hard cellar wall echoed back the rapid fire staccato of cracks pops
and whistles as the dueling whips found their target over and over again. 
Frantically Pooch groped for the catheter trying with both hands to find a grip. 
The pain from her urinary tract suddenly didn't matter in comparison to her
blazing back. The water flowing across the playroom floor to the center drain
was streaked red by the blood dripping from Pooch's back. Though the tails were
wider than most and designed to abrade the skin and not cut it, at the points
were the two whips crossed the skin usually failed and droplets of blood oozed
out.  Pooch had to get that catheter out fast. She managed to get the balloon
all the way into her urethra before being overcome by the pain of the acidic
urine  that forced its way into the scraped and torn flesh, soaking newly
exposed nerve  endings. Pooch knew how desperately she had to get the tubing out
but she just couldn't try again until the pain died down just a bit. The heavy
whips continuously slamming into her back didn't hurt that much any more. Though
she felt the pain it didn't have the sharpness that it had before..  Suddenly 
she realized that yes she was a slave, and that was the role she wanted to play
of her own free will.  It was only right that she be owned by somebody she
disliked. It would raise the intensity of the experience  making the gulf
between slave and master so much wider. Pooch arched her back symbolically
presenting it to the whips. It was her own failure as a slave that had gotten
her into this dilemma, she had stupidly broken the rules, that had been engraved
so deeply into her mind while in the infirmary, and now she was paying for it. 
Marla had basically said that she would be driven to her limits but would be
able to bear the stress. What more could a real slave ask for? Determined to
obey her mistress Pooch gave the Kevlar tube a strong, two handed, yank freeing
the balloon and gushing out a stream of blood and urine. Once again she grunted
like a wounded animal. She had lost all bladder control. The warm pee burned the
torn and scraped walls of her piss tube and despite all her efforts to stop it
the pee just kept running out. Pooch remembered clearly what she had been told
about pissing in the  shower and braced herself for the worst, but instead the
whips fell silent.  "You're running out of time," Marla intoned as if
nothing of importance had taken place. "You'd  better hurry up and shave. A
lot of time has been lost" Pooch picked up the razor of the floor but with
what she had just gone through her hands were shaking so badly she had to grasp
it with both hands to help steady it. Though still sharp enough to shave with
the razor had to be passed over the same area several times to remove the
stubble.  Sitting on the floor, legs spread for the camera, Pooch worked at
frenzied pace to try and denude herself of forbidden body hair. She was cold and
there were goose bumps all over her arms and legs. The passage of the razor
blade repeatedly over her skin was very irritating.

Soon the pale white skin appeared to be covered in a rash.  Pooch wondered how
her legs would look after a week of this treatment. The razor must eventually
get very dull. She refused to think about what that implied. It was better to
just think about what you are doing and not make things even worse for herself
by screwing up. What will happen in the future will happen no matter how hard
she tried to change  it.

Luckily for  Pooch by  the time she reached  for her pussy, with the razor, her
shaking had settled down to where she could stretch the folds with one hand
while shaving them with the other. Pooch's improved ability to concentrate on
her task helped steady her hands.  Soon this  ability to focus would block out
everything but the ordeal at hand. Pooch would loose not only her past but also
her present. Her life would become nothing more than the task at hand. Thought
about anything  else would cause some degradation in the way she did her work
and this led to punishment. In a way, everything that was taken away from her
hadn't really been taken away but rather put away and never looked at again.
Sometimes these experiences that Pooch was loosing would surface in her dreams.
Pooch would later  know these dreams as healing dreams and wish for them to
visit her every time she was locked into bed.   Marla knew that because of what
Pooch had been through combined with not having shaved for five days, there was
no way Pooch could get herself together in time and Marla didn't intend to
penalize her slave for not doing what she could absolutely not do. There was no
reason to tell Pooch that. Marla was much more interested in seeing how Pooch
would try to please her.

Watching Pooch pull out the balloon by almost ripping out her own urethra, had
left an extremely strong image in Marla's mind. She wasn't sure if it horrified 
or mesmerized her. What the lawyer-mistress was sure of, was that the image just
wouldn't go away.   Marla reminded her slave not to forget to shave her arm
pits. "Although you have shown me that your ability to learn from anything
but pain is severely limited, I will try to enlighten you through mere words one
more time.......... You will be subject to inspection for shaving stubble at any
time. A piece of cotton dyed to fluoresce under black light will be brushed all
over you legs, crotch and pits, then under a black light any spots were some of
the fibers came off would be circled, in pen, for punishment. These spots might
be whipped or burned or injected, it could be anything, but I will make sure
that you will remember each spot that failed the test." When Pooch heard
Marla speak the tremor returned to her hands causing a nick to her mons. She had
to grab the razor with both hands again. She didn't have any chance of finishing
on time. Pooch was certain it would mean more painful punishment. The thought
that she would fail again did nothing to steady her hands.

Unable to tighten the skin in front of the razor blade she didn't get a close
shave and there was a chance that a loose flap of skin could be caught by the
razor and sliced off. There was no way that she could get a good enough shave to
pass the cotton test. Pooch began to wonder if she would ever please her
mistress.  "You won't be checked for stubble today, maybe tomorrow. Wash
your hair, dry your head, udders  and cunt,  and get the makeup on."  Pooch
was now sure that she'd failed again. On the verge of tears she wondered what
awful price she would  pay.  In an icy voice Marla instructed her charge,
"do the cunt and bags first, and face the camera when you do.

Just  like when you were soaping up you lift your udders only by the nipple.
" The camera looked down on a cringing form that looked somewhat human.

The extra lights that had been  installed weren't there for the slaves benefit.
They were there mainly for the benefit of the camera. Pooch was lit up
beautifully so she could be watched by thousands of people during her most
intimate moments. The  heinousness of this thought sunk into her consciousness.
She would be watched all the time, day and night  never to have a private
moment. Her slight, pale form would be surveyed by many eyes all the time. 
Massive bruises covered most of her body, her back crisscrossed with welts and
narrow trails of blood. Her  thighs were mostly black and blue, from stooped
shoulders hung the massive red udders, more eye catching than her bright red,
rhinestone encrusted collar. If Pooch were ten feet tall they might have been
proportional to her body.

They presented far more area for the whip than any other part of her bony form.

Pooch picked up the jar of concealing makeup and began to wipe it over her naked
crotch. Just as Marla had said any marks were quickly concealed by the cream,
leaving what appeared to be clean, clear skin.  The udders were next to be
masked by  the concealing cream. To do the undersides  Pooch had to grab the
nipples by pinching them and then lifting the heavy glands while the other hand
applied the makeup. The job was finished by applying blush to both nipples and
her inner pussy lips.  When she was finished the only signs of trauma that
remained on these sensitive parts was some small pits on the skin where scabs
had been scrubbed off and a few small welts still left over from Marla's little
metal tipped whip.

"Hurry up now and do your face," Marla urged on. "you can face
the mirror for this. The camera will just film your reflection." Pooch
turned her back to the camera and looked at the ravaged face that stared back at
her in the mirror. The camera now saw both her back and her face,  reflecting
back from the mirror.  What Pooch saw was her mistress taking a step away and
readying  the bull whip, firmly clenched in her fist.  Pooch knew it was coming.
She started applying the same skin cover over her clean, but scrubbed red, face.
She watched in the mirror as Marla brought the whip around and sent it crashing
across the middle of her back with the tip striking the side of her left udder.
The sudden searing pain paralyzed her for a few seconds as her brain registered
the full effects of the whip.  "Raise your elbows," Marla ordered.

  As Pooch was raising her elbows to expose her sensitive flanks Marla swung the
whip again. It made contact just below her arm pit. She couldn't help it,
Pooch's arms jerked back to her sides. She couldn't believe how it hurt. She
didn't think about screaming she just did. The scream wasn't very loud, her
throat being as it was, but it was a pathetic howl, as sad as she could make
it...........Pooch realized what she had just done.  She had failed again and
there would be a payment exacted. Pooch was sure of it. She hated herself. 
Marla didn't strike her a third time, instead she talked.

"I hope I have your attention. You know your time for getting yourself
together ran out a long time ago and you still look like shit. I don't care
about that today. Today I want everything done right. Today we are setting the
standard.............I want to see you FUCKING SMILE!!!!"   "I WANT TO
SEE YOU SMILING."  Marla was never shy about hollering.

"How many times am I going to have to explain to you that you had better
show a good attitude. I want everyone that sees you to know that you are
enjoying every second. You love pain............. You're nothing but a pain
slut.

The more there is the better you like it.  The next time you see me ready my
whip, you raise your  arms without being asked. Pooch reached up with her arms.
She saw that Marla was rearing back, about to let the whip fly. Her face
scrunched up in anticipation of the blow, waiting for another line of fire to
seer across her back. Pooch heard   the whistle and then she felt the fire. 
This time she didn't try to protect herself.

Pooch accepted the anguish though real tears rolled down her cheeks then dripped
onto her breasts.  She couldn't help it.  Still she forced a toothy smile
through the tears.  "That's better. Now don't keep me waiting. Hurry up and
paint that ugly puss of yours. Use the towel to dry off the tears. There's still
an awful lot to do today." Pooch wished that she could work faster but her
body was giving her a very hard time. So much of her hurt in so many places that
Pooch couldn't stand the idea of her own existence. Her nerves were so on edge
waiting for the next blow that she just couldn't keep from trembling. Most of
the makeup tools had to be handled by two hands. to keep them steady. A smile
now was always on her face, almost as if it was painted on. The skin was pale,
almost white, the eyes dark blue, her  lips bright red with black liner, and her
cheeks rosy pink. The shades Marla  had selected did indeed make her look
whorish.  Bloody piss continued to leak out of the damaged bladder. Pooch was
now incontinent. If her bladder didn't heal properly she would drip piss from
her pussy the rest of her life. Marla had figured that this problem could arise.
She handed Pooch a Q Tip with an elastic band wrapped tightly around the cotton
making it much thicker and water proof.  "Shove this up your urethra you
filthy shit..............................All the way in so that you need
tweezers  to get in and pull it out....Show the camera!" Pooch turned
around to face the camera, remembering to keep a smile on her face. Sitting back
on her heels she spread her knees wide.  Pooch hurt so much down there, she
could imagine how much more it would hurt just to touch her slit gently.  She
thought that Marla just couldn't keep doing this to her all the time. She
wouldn't  live more than a few days treated like this.   She just had to blank
her mind  to  everything except the act of shoving in the rubber tipped stick. 
Pooch desperately tried to show no hesitation in executing the order. She wasn't
told to apply any lubrication to the head of the Q Tip which was now much wider
then her piss canal used to be, because of the elastic band.  She clenched her
teeth and stiffened  every muscle as the plug touched the entrance of the
urethra.

Thinking that she could never stand the pain if she did it slowly, Pooch
carefully aligned the little stick and pushed hard knowing that it would hurt
like hell  but it was her only chance. It was a stupid mistake.  Friction
between the rubber head and walls of her piss channel was so great that the Q
Tip moved inside very  little. What it did was stretch the skin and increase the
damage. The camera's audio picked up a most haunting scream. Pooch new that she
couldn't let off the pressure because she could never force herself to do this
again if she eased up on the pressure. Pooch kept pushing. The pressure forced
some moisture out of the tissue  providing a little lubrication. Slowly, at a
horrific price, the little stick pushed it's way inside. It took six minutes of
superhuman effort to shove the plug all the way inside.

Once  again Marla had solved a physical defect in a most painful way.

Pooch figured taking it out would be worse than putting it in and she would find
out soon enough, as soon as her mistress decided that she wanted her to pee.  
The waterproof makeup was little effected by Pooch's tears. "Get to the
center of the floor. It's time to begin your training," barked Mistress
Marla.

The slave remembered to crawl to the new location and assume the worship
position at Marla's feet.

"Kneel." In her hands Marla held  a white two and a half inch thick
dildo with a saddle eight inches up from the tip. At the very base of the
instrument was steel screw eye. The size of the dildo was not particularly
intimidating to Pooch. It would  take a little effort but she knew that she
could accommodate the size. The concern was the  dildo's surface. It was covered
in what looked like course sand. Though she was almost certain where the plug
would be going  Pooch wished that it wouldn't be her shit hole. Shandra locked
the chain between her ankles to a ring in the floor.

Both ladies had their bull whips in their hands.

"Shandra has noticed that your anal sphincter doesn't provide much grip.

I don't want to disappoint anybody that will be using that hole, and it will be
many, we are going to get it into better shape. If you perform like a good slave
and don't break any of the commandments the training sessions may not be that
unpleasant. If you are a bad slave then it's a different story. I will make sure
you suffer a lot. This is what will happen. When I tell you to begin you will
take this dildo from my hand and hook that weight you see on the floor to the
eye  bolt in the base. You will then squat and shove the dildo up your shit hole
until your shitter lips are gripping the saddle. I will give you two minutes to
do this before Shandra and I begin to use our whips on you. When you have the
rod properly inserted  you will stand up, fingers interlaced behind your neck,
legs spread as far as the chain allows and toes pointed in toward each other.
This will make sure that you are holding the rod with your shit hole muscles and
not your ass cheeks.

You will hold onto the dildo for half an hour. If the weight pulls it out and it
drops to the floor Shandra and I will lay into you with our whips until you have
it reinstalled  and are standing up again. Today the weight is five pounds. We
will continue with this training until you can hold twice that without dropping
it.

This should give you a clear goal to strive for. Begin, and remember your
attitude." Pooch truly wondered if she would ever get a break from this
continuing horror. The grit covering the hard, heavy phallus felt sharp in her
hand. She knew the effect it would have as it was pushed through her tightly
drawn ass hole. She also knew that it would have to be carefully maneuvered past
the curve of her colon and  into the large intestine or she could be seriously
damaged inside. Pooch wanted so much to please her mistress. For once things
just had to go right.

She snapped the short length of chain connected to the weight onto the base of
the dildo. Squatting  on the floor her hand brought the head of the artificial
cock  up and into contact with her dry hole. Relaxing the muscle, as best she
could, Pooch shoved it in about an inch. This wasn't hard because all that had
happened  was that the grit on the dildo just dug into the skin and pulled it
tight as the tip began to enter her rectum. The gritty coating had not yet had
to slide over the skin. Now it could progress no further unless it did. Trying
to relax her anal ring as much as she could the short distance that the cock was
able to penetrate caught  Pooch by surprise. The distance she normally got a
cock of that size to go in without much  difficulty was four or five inches. Ed
had liked to punish Pooch by fucking her ass with a large dildo. This was a bad
surprise.  Pooch had to start pushing hard to make any progress at all. The
rough surface began to remove the upper layers of skin. Spread by the full width
of the cock, the anal skin was near drum tight. Underneath the top layer of skin
the abrasive surface found the living layer. The surface here was moister,
providing just a bit of lubrication. For just a little while Pooch found
progress easier, but though it required less pressure to advance, the sandpaper
pole began to find nerve endings and blood vesicles. The droplets of blood added
more lubrication. This was insignificant compared to what the naked nerves began
to do.  They started to do a little dance in her ass. Stabbing shards of pain
shot up her spine with any movement of the dick and even when there was no
movement at all the coarse surface hurt her spasming hole.  Reflexively her hole
wanted to close, wrapping itself tighter and increasing  the damage done. 
"You keep amazing me at how stupid you are", taunted Marla. "I
should just let you go ahead and let you finish annihilating your shit hole but
that would lower your value. Stick some fingers in between the rod and your
shitter and then sit on the stick to shove it inside, you ignorant cunt. Anyway,
your two minutes are up." Once again both bull whips whistled through the
air. Marla's caught Pooch on the right arm half way between her shoulder and
elbow  Pooch remembered that when she was being whipped she had to raise her
arms over her head. Even though her mistress had just instructed her how to
insert the sandpaper dildo up her ass Pooch thought that she had better raise
her arms to better expose her  sides and udders to the lash.

"That's right Pooch," Marla said. "You'll know for next time. Now
you're going to shove that thing in the rest of the way with your arms over your
head. " Shandra's whip caught her in the rib cage after wrapping around her
back. Pooch again shut her mind to pain and squatted  lower bringing the base of
the dildo into contact with the floor.  Marla snapped her whip right between the
slaves shoulder blades, then Shandra's hit the same spot from the other side.
Marla again struck the same area. The pain between her shoulder blades eclipsed
everything else.

Pooch didn't even notice what was happening to her once soft, delicate, shit
hole, but she clearly noticed when the tattered lips of her shit hole sunk into
the saddle. Pooch tightened her sphincter muscles, now well seated in the
saddle.  Shandra's whip slammed across her kidneys.  Pooch started to straighten
her legs and stand up until she felt the weight pull against the chain. She
didn't know if she could lift it with her ass hole. Pooch tightened her ring as
much as she could and started to lift.  Marla wrapped her whip around  Pooch's
right hip, the tip ripping her lower belly, right over her bladder.  The pain in
her shit hole still paled compared to the pain from the whips.  Pooch
straightened her legs and interlaced her fingers behind her head.  Although it
felt horrible at the time, the pain  from the whipping didn't feel nearly as bad
as it had before.  The whips had stopped. Pooch stood there, her legs spread,
toes turned in toward each other, hands behind her neck, back straight face
forward with eyes cast down.  Through everything Pooch kept a stiff smile on her
face. Her bloody anus griped the little pole up her ass as hard as it could. The
pain from the weighted, coarse surface  didn't matter compared to the importance
of keeping it from falling out.  Pooch couldn't go through that again.   Her
back radiated in pain from the bull whips.

Pooch was determined to perform for her mistress.   After ten minutes her
sphincter muscle was becoming exhausted. It began to slip toward the back of the
saddle.  Where as on insertion the skin on the outside of her anus was abraded
off, on its way out, the rough surface would take the skin of the inside off her
anus. Pooch's weakening anal ring together with a growing need to expel the rod 
caused her great concern. Droplets of blood rolled down from between her
shoulders, others rolled down the shaft between her legs.  Shandra appreciated
how this training would stand her in good steed when she was put to hard use in
the future. She would survive being used by the men only if she were well
prepared. Though she knew Marla was only a novice at training, Shandra was
becoming favorably impressed with the thoroughness of her work.

Pooch didn't have the same appreciation as her mistress's guest. All she new was
that it was getting harder by the second to hold on to the shaft.

She watched in fear as the two dominatrix's fidgeted with their respective
whips, imagining that they were looking for any excuse to put them to use.  She
looked so frightened and  awkward trying to stand there naked with her legs
spread and toes pointing in, trembling from the strain of holding  the large
shaft up her ass hole.

Her pendulous milk sacs swayed from side to side keeping time to her discomfort.
She had to hang on. The weight dangling from the short chain also swayed, the
motion adding  to the strain on her hole.  Of course Pooch had no idea of how
much longer she had to hold the weight. Marla  didn't provide a time check.  The
terror in her eyes betrayed the stupid looking smile on Pooch's face.

She new that the her ass lips would loose their grip on the saddle soon.

After that she had no idea what would happen. Would she be able to hold the
stick without the extra leverage provided by the groove that circled the rod? By
the way Pooch was  beginning to cramp she was sure that she wouldn't be able to
hold it.

Maybe she could slow it down enough so that the thirty minutes might be reached
before the rod fell to the ground? Maybe the extra stretching would increase the
strength of her grip on the rod? Pooch also figured that the harder her ass hole
held on to  the rod the deeper it would scrape her anal membrane. She knew that
for the least damage she would have to relax her grip as much as possible. The
best that she could hope for was that the rod would be slowed and the 30 minutes
be called quickly.  The worst was that she would squeeze as hard as possible and
hardly slow the rod down.  "If the rod falls out the time it spends outside
of your ass won't be counted towards the 30 minutes until you have the thing all
the way back in again.

That way even if it falls out at 29 minutes and 59 seconds you will be 
experiencing another full, round trip, in and out." Marla knew how to
poison a persons confidence.  It became very critical not to drop the heavy
dildo. She didn't like the minimum punishment. Every fiber of her will went into
clenching her shit hole.  Very gradually the rod began to slide down. Fresh
flesh was carried   away on the sandpaper surface. Pooch still had hope she
could slow the stick down, now if only she could slow it down enough.  Marla had
already decided that she would tell Pooch time was up just before it slipped out
of her ass hole.   She  really didn't want to risk another round trip until she
had seen the damage from the first pass through.  Besides she couldn't wait to
see the slaves reaction to having the burning liniment rubbed into her raw
flesh.  She would tell Pooch to perform some delicate task while she rubbed it
in.  The rod kept slipping further and further out of her shitter. The only
thing really slowing it down was the  friction between her tightly stretched ass
hole and the abrasive surface of the rod. Her ass muscles were so tired that
they weren't able to contract much. Still Pooch struggled to slow the stick. She
could feel the descent of the rod speed up as less and less of it remained in
her gut. Around the central part of her anal ring,  where the abrasive dick had
cut both on the way in and on the way out it was now scrapping away the muscle
itself. Marla had even taken away the small pleasure of having a shit from her
slave. The next time she took a dump it would hurt her terribly, and the next
time that she was fucked up the ass she would wish she were dead. Marla had this
scheduled as the next activity. Marla wanted Pooch to experience various degrees
of pain . What she felt now was the first degree.

When she shoves a rag covered in tea tree oil up Pooch's ass she would
experience,enhanced  second degree pain.  When she is then viciously fucked up
her ass, using a strap on dildo that would be third degree pain. Marla was
curious, when would Pooch drop the humiliating smile?

Pooch's Story
Part 11 Into the Fire (II)

"Squat down and release the rod ,.... cunt," Marla ordered. Marla was
careful to keep her voice as humorless and cold as she could without breaking
out in laughter. It had become a personal challenge. She wanted to maintain the
atmosphere of torture and personal degradation, that she had so skillfully
created,  for as long as she could.

 Pooch let her body do what she had struggled so hard and long against.

She expelled the sanding rod from her anus sending a sheet of pain to her brain
as most of the remaining skin was ground out of her shit hole.  And then it was
over. Finally, Pooch thought, the worst was past and even though badly damaged,
her ass hole could start healing. For a short while Pooch was in heaven, so
great was her relief.

 "See those floor stocks over there," Marla pointed to a massive set
of stocks that held their victims arms and legs on the floor with the legs
straight and spread while the arms were shoulder width apart and also straight 
leaving her back parallel to the floor in a touch the toes position. The stocks
forced this position by clamping the legs at both the ankle and just below the
knee, and the arms at both the wrist and just under the elbow. Pooch would be
completely exposed between the knees and elbows and would be forced to maintain
the very uncomfortable position for as long as her mistress wished.

 Pooch crawled over to the unusual contraption and saw that Marla had labeled
it, right leg, left leg etc., making it clear where everything went. She got up
and placed her legs in the appropriate positions and pushed  the two halves of
the device that locked her legs, together.  As the device closed Pooch's legs
were forced to be perfectly perpendicular to the floor and well spread. Forced
to bend entirely at the waist  Pooch reached down with her hands to place her
palms on the floor. She could only wait in this position for someone else to
close the arm section of the stocks. It was Shandra that came over and kicked
the arm section shut, restraining  the slave in  the way that only stocks can. 
The camera, tracking the signal from her collar had paned over to the new
location , focusing on her bloody ass. This would be a very uncomfortable
position to maintain for any extended period.

 The human body is designed to stand upright, the wrists are not designed to
bear weight and neither are the shoulders. The backs of Pooch's legs were
stretched tight, hurting at the backs of the knees and along the thighs. The
position was also unstable, with no leverage to balance herself, Pooch's muscles
constantly worked to prevent falling backwards or forwards. Another one of
Marla's additions was a small closet.  As Pooch watched, the two women remove
their outerwear and hang up their clothes,  her fear  returned.

 Shandra now only wore stockings, a garter and no panties as a red brassier
supported her ample bosom. Marla was left with black panties under black
pantyhose and a matching black bra. Marla scooped out a handful of red liniment
that sat in a pickling jar. When Pooch saw what was coming  the silly grin
immediately vanished from her face. Her teeth clenched and all the muscles in
her face clenched. As soon as Marla's manicured finger tips touched Pooch's
skinless anal ring the effect was the same as if a blow torch was stuck up her
ass. This was beyond anything that she had ever felt. Marla continued to push
her entire, fiery liniment covered hand into her slave's rectum. The shitter's
walls were scraped and bleeding in spots. Marla felt her slaves anal ring close
around her wrist. She began to open and close her fingers and rotate her wrist
expanding the walls of Pooch's large intestine.  Pooch went hysterical. How
could she still be conscious, Pooch thought.  Just as she thought that the pain
was at its worst Marla withdrew her arm and shoved a baby finger into Pooch's
torn urethra.

 "Such ingratitude," Marla chortled. "Here I am trying to prevent
infection and I don't even hear a thank  you. Remind me to punish you for this
insolence before the end of the day, if I forget. Did you hear me?"  Pooch
frantically nodded her head trying to save what she could out of the situation.
Her whole gut was burning Pooch couldn't believe the agony. "I don't
understand the fuss dear," Marla went on. "This is just standard
procedure for treating  wounds. It prevents infection and speeds heeling so you
better get used to it. In a minute I'm going to do your back." Marla again
dipped her hand into the liniment jar.

 Marla showed not the least hesitation in slathering her slave's whipped back
with the burning balm causing her unlucky drudge's whole body to feel as though
set ablaze. The feeling of being set ablaze in combination with being held
totally immobile by the stocks created absolute panic in the slave. Once again
Pooch lost all control of her bodily functions. Her stomach, in the midst of dry
heaves managed to spit up the puke she had previously licked off her Mistress'
shoes.  Her bowels strained to evacuate, a little turd peeked out her shit hole. 
Her bladder was still plugged or it too would have emptied.  Pooch could not
acknowledge the intensity of the sensations in her consciousness except to think
they must be avoided at all costs.    Marla thought, on the other extreme,  the
back rub induced enema was humorous and it had the bonus value of justifying
more punishment for the errant slave.

 While Pooch continued to try and support herself as her guts seemed to be
turning inside out, Shandra and Marla prepared for the next part of the training
session.  Marla strapped on a twelve inch long, three inch thick dildo.  The
massive dildo angled up like a real cock and had straps that ran behind Marla's
hips and ass to allow Marla maximum control as she prepared to impale her slave.  
Marla took a handful of the fiery liniment and rubbed it all over the dildo.

 Pooch realized from her experience during her trial that the extreme heat
wouldn't last at that level for long. While that knowledge gave her some hope,
it did nothing to deaden the excruciating pain of the fire on her raw meat.

 Marla knew the pain would  soon deaden, but she had some fresh stimulation
planned for Pooch before that happened. She was going to use her strap on giant
dildo to fuck Pooch's ass hole while Shandra shoved a more realistically sized
dildo down the slave's throat.  There was a real purpose to this exercise. It
was to get Pooch used to being raped in this same manner by men who brag about
fucking whores to death.  The slave had to have her insides trained to put up
with the new uses they would soon be put through.  Her ass hole was being
savaged so that when it healed it would be covered with tough scar tissue and be
able to stand the constant onslaught of the driving cocks it would be subjected
to. The same could be said for first segment of her large intestine. It would
have to withstand cocks but also hands and fists, big, burly ones.

There were no penalties for fucking a slave to death.

 On the other end Pooch had to be able to take the largest cock down her throat
without it splitting.  Pooch also has to learn to manage her air, surviving by
grabbing some at the slightest opportunity, and not wasting oxygen by panicking.
Whoring for Marla would be the primary way in which Pooch would earn her keep.
At the rate that Marla spent money, Pooch could never keep up.

 Marla had decided to play close attention to Shandra and try to see exactly
what she did. The two women would make the situation even more realistic by not
raping Pooch in any sort of pattern. Sometimes both of Pooch's ends would be
worked simultaneously, sometimes only her mouth and sometimes only her ass.  If
Pooch was well used to taking this abuse before being rented out she just might
live for a few years.

 The only things required of the slave, for this training, were to learn to
maintain her balance while being jerked all over the place by her users, and to
survive.   The floor stocks were shaped to allow someone to stand comfortably
behind the slave to use her rear and to stand in front to use her mouth.

Marla casually watched as Shandra first pulled back the slave's head, by her
hair using her left hand and slowly begin to push the artificial penis into her
mouth to the back of her throat with her right. Pooch, at least, had the
presence of mind to take a deep breath before the dick cut off her air supply.

 "Open those jaws wider," Shandra ordered. "I don't want those
teeth scratching this beautiful baby dick.

 Maintaining a strong grip Shandra began to twist the dildo back and forth while
maintaining pressure,  pshing it down her gullet. Marla could begin to make out
the location of the tip as it slowly began to expand her slave's throat, as she
stood transfixed watching the curious sight.

 Pooch now had something else for her mind to focus on other than the fire
burning up her guts. Following the suggestion to relax in order to conserve her
air supply was easier said than done. The very position Pooch was forced to
maintain was strenuous. Add the sensation of being on fire while her throat was
being split open and continuously gagging,  was not at all conducive to
relaxation.

 Shandra continued to grind the end of the dildo against soft throat tissue  
"Relax your throat muscles or I'll just tear through them and you don't
want that, believe me," Shandra demanded.  These weren't words that Pooch
could ignore. She relaxed her throat muscles allowing the cock to slide in
another inch or so.

 Marla watched as the budge descended further down the slave's throat. It was
now visibly clear that breathing would be impossible. The lawyer had never seen
anything like it. The budge extended from the front of the slave's jaw to her
Adam's apple. Shandra was about to go to work.  She pulled the dildo back an
inch and with her left arm griped Pooch's head in a headlock.

 Pooch knew what was coming would not be any fun. She had already been strictly
restrained by the stocks and the fist in her hair.  Why was it necessary to be
further restrained in this way? Her answer came all at once as Shandra began to
pump the cock in and out through that bottom inch of gullet all the time pumping
harder and harder. Pooch was unable to utter the slightest sound at all being
totally deprived of any air.

Tears streamed down her cheeks as her eyes tried to convey the pain that her
voice could not. She knew she was about to die and just wished that it wouldn't
take too long. Under the circumstances the exhortation to remain calm and not
panic seemed silly.

 Shandra pulled the tip of the cock back into Pooch's soft mouth.  The slave's
lungs gasped for new air.

 One gasp, then a second... Shandra shoved the cock back all the way back down
again. This time she kept it there and began to twist it back and forth, again,
always maintaining pressure.  Pooch had forgotten all about the fire and didn't
even notice Marla walking back to stand between her legs. Of course being in the
headlock limited her vision anyway.   Marla surprised even herself. She felt
sorry for what she was about to do to her pride and joy, although it wouldn't be
all bad for Marla. The angle of the dildo made sure that an extension that ran
from the base would rub up against her clit even through her undergarments.

 Marla loved being a slut, as long as it was outside her job it was a role she
could never stop playing. She had a great body and she enjoyed using it. It was
what she lived for. Ed was a great convenience to her.  Not only was she lucky
enough to have a man she could actually love, he came with a great house and a
ticket to unlimited stimulation, Pooch. By being sweet to him she could also get
him to do whatever she asked. That was his main attraction. Marla was in charge
of everything. Marriage to Ed would just make it official. Life was very good.

 Owning Pooch had now opened up the doors to play with the exciting people she
knew, people with whom she hadn't had anything in common with until now. All
these people exercised complete control over women, in some way, and now she did
too. They had common ground now and they could do business.

 Long before Marla had thought about Pooch for her own use she had thought about
how much money could be made from her. First she thought about forced
prostitution, but the overhead, with only one girl and a forty year old atthat,
would eat up most of the profit and besides you could live off of prostitutes
without them even realizing that they are slaves. Pooch was a real slave and
could be forced to do what nobody else would. The answer Marla thought lay in
specialty work for Pooch.

Work for which people would pay a lot of money.  If Pooch became a star Marla
could demand star money. There was a segment of the sex entertainment business
that was always looking for stars but found no volunteers. It was the torture
business. In this business girls normally only starred in a single feature. With
the proper training Pooch could become a continuing act, Marla thought.

 The future star's thoughts didn't have the variety or pleasant quality that her
owner's had. Pooch had to breathe more than anything else and soon the pain in
her ass receded into the background. In the human hierarchy of needs, the need
to breathe beats the need for freedom from pain every time. The slave tried to
maximize the pleading look of her eyes. Tears streamed down uncontrolled. Her
bright red lipstick concealed the real blue color of her lips. Since she had
already evacuated any internal contents that she had available there was not
another signal that she could make to show her distress.

 Just as her vision was beginning to fade Shandra pulled back the dildo in her
throat, far enough for Pooch to begin breathing again, and kept it there. She
left it in a spot where Pooch could catch a breath in between fighting off the
constant stimulation to gag. This new freedom to catch some air helped the
actress's mind return to the savagery that was taking place in her ass.

 Marla began to feel at ease with the rhythmic thrusting of her pelvis.

The strokes became longer and harder. Moisture began to spread from the gusset
of her pantyhose to the surrounding nylon. Placing her hands on the savaged back
of her chattel Marla adjusted her position placing more of her weight on Pooch
and getting up on her toes with each drive. As the action became smoother and
more relaxed for Marla the cock drove inside deeper and deeper. Blood dripped
steadily from the ravaged anus onto the floor bellow sometimes even hitting the
wooden stock. The dildo glistened a bright red.   For Marla the training aspect
of the exercise began to mater less and less. Her level of excitement, driven by
the feeling in her groin rapidly built to the edge of climax. All other thoughts
left her mind, her breathing grew to panting and her hands grasped onto Pooch's
back just over her armpits, her long nails burying themselves in the flesh.

Finally she stiffened and then convulsed in ecstasy as the orgasm swept over her
glistening, sweaty body.

 Marla smiled as she thought about how much fun preparing her slave for her
future work could be. For a second she also had a vision of using the strap-on
on Ed's tight ass, wouldn't that be a surprise she thought.

 "Looks like you need a bit of a rest," spoke Shandra.  "Why
don't we switch places, then I can keep her ass exercising and watch you stretch
her throat at the same time? It's best you not be alone the first time you try
it."  Marla agreed but was somewhat repulsed at the thought of the low bred
woman's cunt engulfing her strap-on dildo. Oh well she would have Pooch give it
a thorough cleaning with bleach later on.

 With the agreement Shandra withdrew the hand held dildo from Pooch's mouth
while Marla pulled the oversize monster out of her ass, causing a small trickle
of pooled blood to splash onto the floor, falling from the almost skinless bum
hole. All that the slave could do with the temporary freedom of her mouth was
cry and pant for air. Her vocal cords where so bruised that speaking was out of
the question.

 "I think just one more round of throat and ass fucking will be enough for
today, it is your first real session and you have so much work to get done yet.
I guess you noticed that because of your time in the infirmary the house is a
complete shambles. I expect that it will be at least presentable by this
evening. Then you will be facing your first official punishment session. I bet
you are as excited as I am about that" Marla let out a chuckle at her
slaves expense.

 Pooch's mind was still too clouded from the oxygen starvation and pain, now
everywhere, to appreciate the significance of her owners words.

Right now what had most of her attention was the fire in her back side and the
ache in almost every joint demanding release from the god awful position she was
fastened in. While Marla undid the straps of her dong and handed it over to
Shandra, clarity began to return to Pooch's head but instead of being a benefit
it only served to make her feel even worse.

 Shandra wasted no time putting on the dildo and adjusting the stimulating
prongs so they hit just the right spots on her plush twat.

Marla made a point of grabbing Pooch by the hair and pulling up her face so that
she could rub the slaves nose in the wet gusset of her pantyhose. "Take a
deep breath you shit. It's the smell of your real master, not me but my cunt.
You learn to keep it happy and wet and your life just might become tolerable. If
you fail your life will be a living hell."   Pooch had to learn her real
position in the order of things and hers was well below that of her Mistress's
cunt.

 Quite familiar with the use of a strap-on, Shandra stepped into position behind
Pooch, carefully nudged just the tip of the dildo into the wide open anus, and
then grabbed both of Pooch's shoulders and pulled her back while her hips thrust
forward. In a single powerful motion the 3-inch thick penis, now lubricated only
by her own blood, was buried up to the hilt in Pooch's savaged shit hole. The
speed of penetration not only unmercifully stretched and scraped the descending
colon but also literally punched the adjoining organs out of the way sending the
slave's stomach into a series of dry heaves and a fresh torrent of screams from
her unoccupied throat. Anguished, harch screams. Her throat was so raw.

 Angered by Pooch's reaction to the invasion of her insides, Marla, still
clutching a fistful of hair, sent her other fist flying into the slave's face.
"Shut up and take it. I'm getting sick and tired of your cry baby attitude.
What are you going to do when there are fifty or sixty men lined up to use your
ass, huh? How do you think you're going to earn your keep?" Marla slapped
her chattel's head just to emphasize her point. All the while Shandra kept
driving in and out with long rapid thrusts   "Now open our mouth nice and
wide like a good slave-whore, so that I can shove this big fucking man cock down
your slut throat. You've got two ends and I intend to have you use them both at
the same time."  Marla looked over at Shandra to check that she was
watching. Shandra nodded her head telling Marla to proceed. Marla then applied a
headlock, just like she had seen before, and pushed the dildo right to the back
of Pooch's throat. Pooch's throat was already so badly bruised by Shandra it
hurt a lot, along with the sudden absence of air.

 Just like before when Marla was ripping her ass and Shandra was savagely
abusing her throat, breathing became Pooch's number one priority. What Shandra
was doing didn't matter all that much now to Pooch. All her focus was on her
need to breathe.  Nothing was moving in, or out, of her lungs. When she felt the
headlock tighten it dawned on her what she had to do. Pooch extended her lips as
far up the shaft as they would go and relaxed her throat, inviting the cock to
come farther in. She knew Marla wouldn't be pulling it out until she had
swallowed down all that was possible. Tears rolled out of her eyes one after
another. Pooch had the look of the damned on her face. She was sure her eyes
were seeing their last.

 Pooch began to strain forward instead of pulling back and Marla loosened her
grip. This convinced Pooch that she was on the right track. Marla slowly
increased the pressure until Pooch's throat muscles just couldn't hold the hard
plastic dick out any more. The rippled surface bruised the throat even more as
it slid by. Her eyes bugged out. The dick stopped for a bit while  Marla looked
over at Shandra for affirmation and Shandra again nodded her head, signaling
with her eyes for Marla to keep pushing.

 She was only too eager to oblige. Marla gave the cock a bit of a twist and this
knobby throat plug filled more space. When it seemed that the visible bulge in
the throat had reached about half way to her collarbone Shandra shook her head,
no.

 "Next time you can go back down to where you are now and then maybe a
quarter of an inch farther but no more than that each session." Shandra
said. "You need to stretch her throat without ripping it. In a couple of
weeks you'll see how easily she will take the entire shaft. Keep her away from
any food at least twelve hours before she does any real cocks....... Twenty-four
hours and she will be very hungry, Shandra smirked."  While Shandra
instructed Marla on the proper use of the throat buster Pooch's need for air
grew desperate. Her heart and head were pounding and the burning feeling in her
lungs was driving her to madness. She didn't know what else she could do to get
some air. Her vision began to fade.

 "Pull it back." instructed the perspiring Philippino madam. Marla
quickly jerked the dildo out of Pooch's severely strained gullet.

 There was an immediate rush of air and loud wheezing around the huge intruder.
The continuous gagging returned.

 "Just keep the dildo as stiff as you can while I finish her up." 
Coming from the husky woman those words had a very ominous ring to them.

 Shandra latched onto Pooch's scalp with both fists and began to yank her neck
back and forth as she used her arms to drive home the hard thrusts.

As Shandra pulverized Pooch's hind quarters Marla used the penis in the slave's
throat the same way, holding it tight as Shandra literally shoved her throat
back and forth against it.

 Now that Pooch got some air she could struggle but with Shandra whipping her
head back and forth with considerable force made her struggle barely
perceptible. Her head was the only part of her body that could move more than a
couple of inches and that was being held in Shandra's iron grip.

It felt to Pooch much of her hair was being ripped out by the strength of each
pull and push. The cock Marla held against Pooch's throat also kept pounding the
soft tissue and cartilage. It was like a fist reaching in to the back of her
throat and pounding it, on the same spot over and over again. Pooch was sure it
would punch right through, as she tasted her own blood. All the stars flashing
in her head blocked her vision.

She tried to turn her head so the cock would hit something else but Shandra's
grip on her scalp was just too strong. It was Shandra who decided where her head
went and no one else.

 Pooch felt a sudden increase in Shandra's level of tension as the madam
approached climax. The pull on her hair became even harder but the movement of
the shaft up her butt, stiffer but slower. Finally Shandra just shoved the
phallus in to the hilt and kept pushing against it hard with her mound While
bouncing up and down with her toes maximizing the stimulation to her clit Pooch
felt her ecstasy as Shandra came.

 At last both mistresses withdrew their respective tools, the huge one up her
ass hole made a loud slurping noise as it was yanked out. Pooch was totally
spent and stood there trembling from the combination of shock and exhaustion. If
the stocks had allowed it she would have crumbled into a heap on the floor. The
filthy dildos were tossed onto the floor leaving  a broad, wiggly, red smears.

 Marla changed her grip on Pooch's tear streaked face cupping it in her hands
and gently caressing it with her thumbs. She squatted down in front of the
pilloried woman so she could stare into her face as she spoke to her. Marla
figured that it was possible to convey kindness without relinquishing any of her
power to the slave. Marla knew that it was up to her whether or not Pooch would
experience the sensation of kindness or whether she would feel the wrath of her
lord and master.

Marla understood well the power that getting someone's attention gave her. She
would have Pooch face her right in the eyes and depending on her mood make Pooch
feel like the worst part of her nightmare was over or make her feel that it was
only getting started. Marla decided that maybe it was a good time to show some
kindness.

 The stocks were opened and Pooch collapsed to the ground. Bloody, sweaty,
exhausted and consumed by her pain she just lay there. Marla retrieved the
threadbare towel wet it and returned to wipe away the blood that was staining
Pooch's crotch and legs. Squatting beside her Marla stroked her slaves hair and
face.

"I know this is hard for you, but training for anything is hard at first.
You'll get used to it and eventually you'll see how it will pay off. One day you
will make me proud, only not today. Now get yourself together you still have a
long day ahead. As I have told you that since you were laid up in the infirmary
the house has been neglected somewhat.

I expect it to be in a of reasonable state by this evening. Now stand up." 
Pooch tried her best to get off the floor but every time she moved new waves of
pain shot to her brain. The hurt between her legs was the worst of all. Inside
her body Pooch's cervix was pounding and her colon was burning. She didn't dare
touch her brownie; it was super tender having been rubbed raw by all the
oversized dildos that had used it. As soon as she began moving muscles would
cramp in response to it. Her throat had suffered with all manner of abuse but
nothing like what caused it to hurt like it did now. She hoped that they
wouldn't feed her for a while because Pooch had serious doubts if she could
swallow. Pooch looked down on her udders finding them badly bruised and criss
crossed with welts and cuts. Neither Shandra nor Marla had held anything back
when they had laid into the slave girl earlier on. They had aimed at all her
tender spots. A lot of people watching over the closed circuit television
channels were hoping that Pooch would bebeaten again. They were paying big money
to watch girls being tortured and humiliated, not coddled. Marla would make sure
that the audience would not be disappointed for long but Pooch did need some
time for recovery and Marla would try to get her some.

 The two dominatrix's grabbed Pooch's shoulders and helped her up. Pooch
couldn't imagine that it was possible to hurt more. Every muscle and joint ached
but this was minor compared to the hurt inside her body, hurt that was the
result of her rape by the hard diodes and the injection of her cervix. Her
cervix was still swelling from the histamines. In addition she now had to try
and stand on feet still swollen from the cane. While Pooch was trying to get
accustomed to standing on her own Marla brought over what was to be Pooch's maid
outfit.

 "I'm dying to see how you look in these shoes," Marla commented as
she placed a pair of ankle boots on the floor along with a pair of extremely
sheer black seemed stockings and a shiny black PVC garter belt. "If you
need to steady yourself you can lean against the whipping post, but hurry up and
put these on, you don't have much time."  Accepting the suggestion Pooch
hurried to comply, leaning on the post as she slipped on the expensive stockings
and fastened them to the garters.

 The boots were highly unusual. They resembled a cross between an extremely
high-heeled pump and a ski boot. The material they were constructed from was a
super smooth, high gloss black plastic. The heel was slim, six inches high.
Around the top of the boot ran a shiny steel rail to prevent leg irons from
slipping down onto the boots and possibly marking them. The most unusual feature
though was the closure of the boot. They were closed by a set of three buckles
just like ski boots except that these latches were not adjustable and once
closed required a key to release. The boot was designed to make the foot conform
to the boot, no matter what.

 "Those stockings cost me twenty dollars a pair, you'd better not get any
runs in them or you'll pay dearly."  Pooch tried to slide her foot into the
boot carefully spreading the two sides apart as far as they would go. Her foot
slid easily along the smooth surface till the last couple of inches where it
narrowed at the toe. Inside the boot there was nothing, no padding only the hard
plastic shell. As she pushed hard Pooch worried if she had left enough slack at
the toe of the nylons so they wouldn't stretch and tear as they were forced
along the sides of the boot. With the foot finally wedged in Pooch needed to use
both hands to close the buckles. She now had a new pain center to focus on. 
Soon both feet were throbbing as the slave tried to maintain her balance.
Running away from anything in these just wouldn't be possible.   "Do you
remember this?" Marla held out the series of leather straps that Pooch
recognized as the spreader brassier, only this one was shinny black coordinating
with the rest of her outfit and the straps were longer to allow for the
increased size of her udders.   "You put it on and put it on tight. Believe
me, you don't want me coming over to adjust it."  This particular item had
always been Pooch's most hated piece of clothing. The bra was made up of three
individually adjusting straps that surrounded each bag. Each strap was studded,
only not on the outside but on the inside. The studs actually had a purpose
besides causing pain. Once dug into the breast meat they wouldn't allow any
slipping of the straps especially when the back strap was tightened and the
udders pulled sideways until one nipple faced right and the other left. Now she
was so much larger, that her melons could be pulled sideways far enough that the
nipples pointed backwards.   Her feet hurt like mad as she stumbled around
trying to keep her balance and do up the torture bra. There was no give in the
shoes; they felt like they were carved from rock. She couldn't imagine what it
would be like to actually walk in them.

 Marla knew that if she wanted, she could make her slave run in them, and
doubtlessly would at some future time.

 In a few minutes the pain from her udders would eclipse all the minor
irritations Pooch now felt. Her chest was already painful to the touch, soon she
would be trying to pull her bags right off and only succeeding in causing
herself more hurt. The studs although dull buried themselves deep in the flesh.

 Marla wanted Pooch to be able to dress herself and also apply sufficient force
while strapping herself into the udder harness, as it would be called from now
on, Marla had conveniently made a few unique adaptations. The first was that the
back straps of the harness were tightened simply by pulling on the loose end of
one of the straps which passed through a buckle similar to an automobile's seat
belt buckle. The straps could only be tightened while the harness was on.
Knowing that it would be difficult for Pooch to reach behind her back and pull
the strap tight the way she wanted, Marla had two small holes punched near the
tip of the back strap. A long leather belt with matching hooks on the end could
then be temporarily attached. Pooch could now grab hold of the long belt, that
even allowed her to use both hands, to pull with a great deal of force, yanking
her now torpedo shaped jugs right around her sides,  underneath her arm pits.
When tightened to the slave's satisfaction she could then reach back and unhook
the pull strap.

 Marla was extremely interested in just how tight Pooch would go with all the
straps. She knew that it would be almost unbearably painful to her slave but she
had warned her of the consequences of insufficient force and this would be a
good test to see just how much the toilet slave feared her mistress.

 Marla was not disappointed. By the time Pooch stopped pulling on the back strap
both udders were peeking backwards from under her pits and some of the dull
studs embedded in the breast meat had torn through the skin leaving tiny
rivulets of blood leaking from under the leather bands. Marla would have settled
for less, but why spoil a good thing, she thought. Pooch was so scarred of Marla
that she was willing to rip off her own tits to please her. It was the level of
fear, that Marla was looking for.

 Marla walked up to Pooch and started trying to stick a finger underneath all of
the bands. They were so tight that she couldn't force a finger between leather
and flesh. Marla made a mark with a permanent marker, on each strap where it
left the buckle.

 "If I catch you doing up the buckles any looser than this, it will cost
you a trip to the very whipping post you are standing beside. You'll have a date
with a bull whip that could last for hours."  Stepping back to admire her
slave Marla admonished Pooch. "Now... isn't that better? We got the
overgrown udders out of the way so you could see what you were doing.  Though it
is a bit disconcerting to stand behind you and see your nipples pointing at
me."  Pooch rested her biceps on the sides of her own tits. She could no
longer lower her arms to her sides.

 Marla looked down towards the slaves cunt.

 "I guess Ed had those eyelets attached to your pussy lips so he could seal
you up from unauthorized stimulation, but I have quite another use for them.

 Marla picked up a Popsicle stick sized, gleaming, piece of metal, with three
evenly spaced hooks running along it. Hooks that could be closed against the
metal bar. Centered on the opposite side of the bar was a single ring.  
"Spread your legs, I want to see your cunt."  The terrified slave
spread her legs, not knowing what would come next.

 With the curious metal bar in one hand, Marla squatted down in front of Pooch
and parted her sex with the other hand, isolating one of the inner pussy lips.
She clutched it near the top and pulled up and out, continuing to stretch it
until the spaces between the eyelets in her pussy lips matched the spaces
between the hooks. She passed the hooks through the holes and locked them shut
against the steal.

 "Did you see what I did, cunt?"  Pooch nodded her head.

 "Here, ... you do the other side." Marla handed the slave a second,
identical bar.

 With unsteady hands Pooch fastened the hooks to the opposite inner labia, just
like she was told. Marla then brought out what looked like a short piece of
piano wire with small locks at each end.

 "Here, fasten this to the ring on one of the bars and then pass the wire
behind your ass and connect it to the ring on the other bar."  Trying not
to show any hesitation, Pooch did as told having to pull hard on the wire and
pull out the normally hidden lips a long way before she could lock the wire onto
the opposite side. Her sex was now displayed for all to see, the inner labia
pulled over the fronts of her thighs, exposing her vagina and even her urethra
for the world to see. From now on every step and movement would tug and stretch
her tortured labia minor.

 Marla finished up by fastening the leg irons around Pooch's shins.

 "Is an omelet all right with you?" Marla asked Shandra.

 "That's fine but I like mine hot and spicy," Shandra responded.

 Marla turned to Pooch and explained to her like she was retarded.

 "Use anything that you find in the kitchen, but they better be good! You
will serve us lunch in the living room. Shandra and I have some planning to do
for your debut tonight.  But before you start working in the kitchen you will
assist us in getting dressed and then take a few minutes to fix up your face and
hair. When you're done you can pin this maids cap to your hair." Marla was
so thrilled to have someone she could totally boss totally control and never
complain, never snivel, never leave her.

 With these words Pooch's life in service of her Mistress began.

Awkwardly at first she stumbled around the basement fetching clothes, dressing
her superiors then trying to make herself look presentable, though she was not
sure what that was anymore. She stood in front of the mirror for a few seconds
trying to recognize the person that was looking back. The face was still
attractive though in a whorish sort of way, but the rest of her could have come
from another planet. Her arms were now held away from her body, kept that way by
her enormous bags that made her look like she was wearing water wings. Her sex
now gapped open as the center of attraction, a bull's eye invitation waiting for
an arrow to strike.  Her legs were still shapely helped along by the new boots
that looked so dainty and sleek, achieving this effect at the cost of crushing
her feet, but this was invisible to anyone else. The leg irons, now riding high
above the boots, so shiny and polished almost looked like they were jewelry,
kinky perhaps but jewelry non the less. Finally there was the bright red collar,
screaming out "Toilet Slave," in sparkling rhinestones, for the entire
world to see.

 Pooch couldn't believe it but her nearly shredded vagina began to visibly glaze
over. It was betraying her to the world. The slave was lubricating. She
shuddered to think that she could not maintain even this secret.

Pooch slowly and carefully had to relearn how to walk in her new shoes.

The rigid nature of the shoes required her to step higher and bring the boot
down flat on the ground, rather than heel first, to minimize the stresses on her
feet. She was glad to see that the new, higher, position of the leg shackles
made it much easier to keep the chain from dragging along the ground. Pooch
thanked her lucky stars that the leg irons were smooth enough not to snag the
stockings. Marla had told her she better keep the seams straight at all times.
It would reflect sloppiness on Pooch's part and be punishable by a whipping. The
stockings were so incredibly shear she couldn't imagine they would last through
the day.

Knowing Marla had paid so much for them made the slave sicken. She knew Marla
would be really steamed if one developed a run. It also meant that jobs that
would have seemed simple before would now become hard because she could no
longer kneel. Her knees would have to be kept off the ground unless absolutely
necessary, such as when being ordered into a kneeling position by a superior.
Pooch was forced into keeping all her weight on her feet where the boots
continued to do their work, brutalizing her feet. The noise they made to the
slave was a 'clickity-clop on the playroom's concrete floor.

 Following behind her superiors Pooch lifted a leg to take the first step up the
stairs, and out of the hell that the playroom had become, she was hit with a
stabbing pain in her lower gut. The step had caused some compression on her
inflamed cervix and now it started to heat up. The nerves normally reserved for
detecting heat were becoming compressed and firing. Each step up the stairs
refreshed the stabbing pain. The slave kept going knowing that the only way she
could keep living would be to work through the pain.

 Pooch would do everything for her mistress and Ed. In addition, her mouth would
become her Mistress's private commode and her tongue would replace all uses for
toilet paper. She would do all cooking, cleaning, and laundry. She would help
dress and undress the household. She would be called to turn the controls of the
television or radio as she became the universal  remote control. Pooch would run
baths and do the lathering of her Master and Mistress. She would pick up the
napkin that fell off Ed's lap and replace it. She would even iron the socks, and
make sure closets were always organized and neat. Pooch would put on and remove
all shoes and keep them impeccably cleaned and polished. She would provide the
entertainment, thoughit it wouldn't  be very entertaining to Pooch herself.  She
would be the maid. Most important of all she would earn enough moneyto make
Marla rich..

 While mistresses one and two ate their omelets in the living room Pooch stood
at strict 'attention' waiting, no trying to anticipate their needs. 'Attention,'
for Pooch meant standing straight with her legs spread as far as her irons would
allow, hands behind her head, fingers interlaced, and elbows pointing straight
out to the sides. They may have been wasting precious time making her wait when
she could have been working on her chores, but that was not Pooch's concern now. 
To follow instructions not question, to suffer not have kindness or comfort were
her role now. Long after they had taken their last bite Pooch was instructed to
fetch the bowl of vomit, and meet them in the kitchen.

"Put the bowl down on the floor," Marla instructed. "Slaves eat
off the floor. Not because you still retain some humanity, but because I don't
want to stop and redo your makeup,..... you can use a spoon." "Kneel
in front of the bowl."  "You know that I shouldn't be giving you a
spoon. what I would really like to do is step on your head and shove that sluty
face right to the bottom of the bowl and hold you there till your nose and eyes
were full of vomit. How dare you puck out my glorious shit. My shit is a gift to
you to be treasured and appreciated and not brought up......... You just don't
know how much that pisses me off."  "Before you begin to eat your
lunch you better take a minute to review the commandments I've given you. Both
Shandra and I will be watching for you to fuck up. I can't wait till you
do."  Pooch was devastated by Marla's words. She knew damn well what they
meant. They meant that she would now be putting on a show. Pooch would have to
show no reluctance to do what she was told and she had to show great pleasure in
performing this most repulsive task. It also probably meant that she couldn't
let any of the vial substance dribble down her chin or she would be guilty of
sloppiness.  The worst of it was that she knew that she would not be allowed to
succeed. She would be pushed till she failed and then she would be punished for
failure. She would now pretend to enjoy her mistress's regurgitated feces so
that later she could be whipped for not enjoying them enough. And so the charade
began.

 Pooch was given an old wooden spoon. One where the front edge had worn down and
there were slivers of wood missing making for a jagged edge. It would not be
easy to avoid getting vomit smeared all over her face because the spoon was big
for her mouth. Pooch could sense that there would be a collision between the
shit going down and the shit coming up.

It would end up spewing all over the room as both her stomach and lungs joined
forces to clear her body of  what she just had to somehow keep down.

 On her knees and bending over the bowl Pooch dipped the spoon into the center
of the excrement and smiled a wide broad grin. Her look said, "I just can't
wait to get this spoon to my mouth. I love to eat other peoples regurgitated
shit."  Pooch was now far too terrified of the whip to put anything less
than her best effort into the performance. She completely blanked out of her
mind what it was that she was eating. Everything went into maintaining the smile
and being ladylike when trying to get the big spoon into her mouth. She new that
there was no real chance of Marla being satisfied with her but if there was so
much as a tiny sprig of a chance she had to try......And so the spoon kept going
down empty and coming back up full.

What she had already once consumed, early that morning Pooch ate up for the
second time. Each spoonful became more difficult to get down than the last. She
had to time swallowing between bouts of heaving. Pooch prayed that the heaving
wouldn't be considered as signs of revulsion, but how else would Mistress
interpret it? Maybe, she though, if I could truly imagine my Mistress as being a
real Goddess then maybe I can imagine the shit as being very good? So she
pictured Marla sitting on a golden throne, her radiance glowed creating it's own
light. Marla was the most magnificent female in the universe. Provocatively
dressed and flawlessly coiffured.   Pooch was right. It made getting down the
poop a lot easier. The vision of Marla lingered in the slaves mind for a long
time after the last bit of brown had been licked out of the bowl and Shandra
picked it up for an inspection. Pooch had certainly tried to get every last spec
of brown off of the bowl. After all the she had eaten there was no significance
to avoiding the last few bits. Pooch prayed she hadn't missed any.

Shandra just handed the bowl over to Marla without a word. Marla looked at it
then put it down,.... again without a word. She didn't need any more cause to
punish Pooch. There was quite enough as it were.

 "As you continue to straighten the house I wasn't you to check and see if
we need anything at regular intervals. I expect the house neat and tidy by 4:30.
That's when my guests and technical crews will start showing up and you will
receive final preparations for tonight. Don't embarrass me"  Pooch didn't
fail to see the irony in Marla's statement. Her mistress was doing everything in
her power to maximize her humiliation and yet was concerned that perhaps the
house might not look tidy enough for her depraved friends. The knowledge that
her punishment would not be a private affair between herself and her mistress
but rather a public spectacle with assistants and an audience sent new waves of
terror through her already over stressed mind. Marla, alone, punishing her was
cause enough for concern but Marla trying to impress an audience was cause for
sheer terror. Again  Pooch had to fight back her stomach's desire to revolt.

 Pooch pushed herself as hard as she could to accomplish her task of
straightening out the shambles that was Ed's house. In a way she was grateful
for the task and the pressure to complete it because it allowed her to think
about something other than what going to happen that evening.

Catering to the whims of the two women, however, did become quite an annoyance.
They were watching torture videos and discussing the merits and the pitfalls of
what was happening, on the screen. Marla was taking notes. It was something that
the slave would rather not have seen but the constant trips into the living room
to check on the women combined with the times that she would be called into the
room for some trivial reason  like adjusting the volume on the television, made
it impossible for Pooch not to notice what was going on.

 Pooch saw a woman, perhaps in her late thirties or early forties, much like
herself bent over a bar and having her ample derrière literally being removed,
chunk by chunk, with a barbed flail just like the one now hanging from the wall,
like a piece of art. Chunks of flesh could be scene being ripped out with every
lash. When the flogging stopped for a moment it wasn't to provide the hysterical
victim with a moment of rest but rather so that the torturer cold scoop out a
handful of salt from a barrel placed beside her and rub it into the hamburger
that had once been her seat. Pooch could not believe that this poor woman
remained conscious, but not a single woman, that Pooch witnessed being taken
apart  that afternoon, ever passed out.

 Another time a young blonde lady, just a teenager in appearance was fastened to
a metal frame, on her knees with her head severely forced back. In her mouth was
a funnel gag and a line up of people waited to urinate into the funnel, both men
and women. As if this wasn't enough her nose was clamped shut so that the only
way she could breath was by first swallowing any liquid in the funnel. Her belly
was distended by the amount of piss she had swallowed but there appeared to be
no end to the line of people waiting their turn.  Urine leaked out of her nose,
coughed up by lungs that where constantly inhaling drops and squirts of it. In
between swallowing streams of piss the girl coughed and gasped incessantly. When
Pooch returned latter the same girl was being forced to vomit and then
repositioned back in the frame, in front of a new line, to start all over again.

  Pooch remembered the film she had been forced to watch during her trial and
the assurance she could avoid the same fate if she showed genuine attempts and
enthusiasm.  Now Pooch was terrified she knew she would soon be the girl on the
screen, it was her new role.

  When Pooch stumbled in, still unsteady in the awkward boots, to check on Marla
and Shandra at around two thirty, Marla decided that Pooch had worn the spreader
bra for long enough. The slaves udders had grown quite numb by this point and
causing nerve damage to these magnificent structures would be quite counter
productive to Marla's future plans.  Enhanced sensitivity is what she was
looking for and according to Dr.

Steve one way to achieve this was through repeated treatment similar to what she
had just undergone where nerves are stressed and suffer slight damage but not to
the point of killing them. When they recover often times they will grow
additional branches which are more sensitive than the ones they replace. Besides
Marla wanted her slave looking as good as possible for her debut performance and
some time would be needed for the mammaries to return to their normal shape and
not the sausage shape created by the straps.

 Though not thrilled by the return of feeling after removing the brassier  Pooch
was grateful for the small favors. She had actually been quite concerned that
the lack of circulation would kill the tissue  and leave her either dead or at
least breast less. Now hanging as they did, however, the twin boulders did get
in the way of work making things at low levels difficult to see or knocking over
object placed near the front of a table or bureau while Pooch reached for
something near the back.

 By three Pooch had the single greatest mess cleaned up, that being the disaster
once referred to as the kitchen. Hallways and other common rooms like the family
room and living room were straightened out much more quickly.

 While working in the living room Pooch watched a particularly beautiful
Oriental girl undergoing a torture that made the toilet slave shudder.

She had been suspended, up side down, by wires wrapped around her toes, although
her big toes were left free. The wires had cut through most of the skin and were
now impinging on the small bones. Her hands were also bound with wire behind her
back. A foot below her head was a bed of hot coals radiating heat upwards from a
reflective metal bowl. What had previously been long black hair had flared up in
flames as soon as the girl had been lowered leaving some first and second degree
burns on her scalp. She had instinctively protected her pretty face by looking
upwards as her sumptuous locks were destroyed. She had been given a true
dilemma. She could just hang there as her head slowly roasted or she could
escape by ripping off her toes and falling head first into the glowing embers.  
A small additional inconvenience was the swinging of the wires activated a
bellows blowing air through the coals increasing their temperature.    It
appeared that the only way she could survive was to jerk her body violently,
repeatedly and quickly while trying to put as much of her weight onto the toes
of one foot. If she wasn't quick she would succumb to the blistering heat of the
bellows stoked fire. Pooch's heart went out to the unfortunate victim as the
wires cut through one toe and then another. Her head and face began to blister
from the intense heat. Her lungs must have been cooking as well.

 Shandra rubbed herself, her hand underneath her dress.

 The Chinese princess didn't make it. She succeeded in having the wires tear
through the toes of one foot but when it came to the other she just ran out of
strength and passed away,  her free leg falling limp exposing her genitalia as
one final indignity.

 Watching Shandra diddle herself, Pooch found herself wondering  what atrocities
this woman was capable of. She was responsible for much of the pain she was
experiencing right now both above and below the waist.

Curiously Pooch didn't find herself repulsed by the woman but aroused instead,
by the knowledge that she had to submit to this dominatrix who had such purity
of purpose. She admired the fact that this woman would do whatever needed to be
done to extract the last ounce of effort from each of er charges and never
accept anything less.

 Pooch noticed that if anything Marla didn't look pleased with her guests crude
behavior. She hoped that it meant that her Mistress did not approve of such
extreme tortures and not just that her mistress was displeased with Shandra's
actions.

 By a quarter to four most of the obvious dishevelment within the house had been
cleaned up and Pooch busied herself with vacuuming carpets while taking along a
pail with a brush and some upholstery cleaner to attack the patches of mud that
the vacuum just couldn't get. By this time she had also developed an urgent need
to pee and thought about how it would feel to remove the rubber encased Qtip
when she was instructed by her Mistress. Because of the damage done to her pee
canal that morning, the building pressure hurt more than what would be normally
expected. Still it paled in comparison to the anguish that was her feet and her
womb. Her udders, which had last been injected almost two days ago where feeling
a fair bit better. Some of the swelling was actually receding  making them a bit
softer and more natural to the touch.

 At  four thirty  Marla decided it was about time to brief her chattel on what
was going to happen that evening.

 "At attention  CUNT. Tonight is a very important night for you and I.

For me it is the culmination of a great deal of work and planning and for you it
will be a time of discovering the cost of less than perfect performance as my
slave. Soon the technical crews will begin to arrive.

You will be taken to the guest bedroom and prepared for punishment.

After your  preparation you will greet my guests upon their arrival. At seven
o'clock you will be taken downstairs where I will introduce you to my guests and
the television audience and read off the list of your infractions.  The penalty
phase will then begin. I expect you to be fully, completely cooperative
throughout the evening. You are not to forget at any time what you are and
accept the consequences of your shortcomings. As a slave you have been less than
stellar, with tonight that will begin to change. I need not remind you that no
matter how bad things get for you, no matter how painful, it can always be much
worse, and let me assure you that I will make it so if you give me even the
slightest reason, the slighest imperfection in your performance, the slightest
lack of enthusiasm on your part.  I expect, no demand you behave with the
nobility of manner of being MY slave.  You will not dishonor me.  There is a
purpose to this evening for you and secondarily for me.  What is most important
is the benefit for you.  It will finally, indelibly, etch in you miserable slave
mind whose property you are and it will make you a better slave as you revel in
this knowledge.  You will now have clear goals; you sole purpose in life to
please your mistress.  For me it will provide the means to keep you as you WILL
become accustomed.  Now do you understand?  Answer in words, CUNT." 
"Yes Mistress, Pooch understands."  "Very good, Now that I know
you understand I will tell you what I expect from you tonight. First I expect
you to keep your mouth shut. I don't mean that you can't scream and weep.
Everyone you will ever meet from now on will enjoy listening to the screams of a
woman. You may even prey out loud. What you can't do is actually talk to anyone
but yourself.

Just to make sure I didn't make a mistake in this regard, if I were you I would
try to keep as quiet as possible. I expect that you will do everything you are
told to do and you will do it according to the guidance offered you in the
commandments. You will particularly pay attention to commandment number four.
You are a toilet slave and toilet slaves are not revolted by anything. And don't
forget that anybody at all can use you, any time, any way, any where, although I
can't understand why anybody would want to use those filthy holes of yours.

They must just be full of disease by know, and if they  really don't have any
venereal diseases yet, they sure will soon." "Now when you answer the
door I want it done in a very particular fashion. You will only be opening the
door for guests that I have invited, so you have no security functions. After
you open the door you will move back up to the wall and stand at strict
attention, your eyes cast on the ground. My gusts may want to examine you. If
they do you will offer no resistance. When every one has cleared the door you
will close it and escort the guests to the living room. unless another room is
ordered. While you're waiting for instructions or between assignments you will
take up the 'worship position' with your head in the nearest unoccupied corner.
In the worship position either your head is in a corner or  your ass is directed
towards the greatest concentration of viewers in the room. You will maintain
this position until given instructions otherwise.".

Almost as soon as Marla had finished her instructions to her slave the door bell
rang. Pooch went to answer it..

"That should be the makeup team. You will escort them to the guest bedroom
and from there you will follow their instructions."  The slave girls heart
began to race. It was starting.

Pooch opened the door only to witness quite the bizarre sight. Standing there
were three people. At the front was a matching pair of the most beautiful women
Pooch could remember ever laying her eyes  on, One raven haired the other golden
blonde. Both were gagged with red ball gages that had been inserted well back in
their mouths. Below the waist both women were encased in black latex, so tight
that Pooch believed the outfits must have been painted on. Even their hands were
covered except for the finger tips, which revealed perfect, red, long nails.
Their shoes were red patent pumps with heels that looked impossibly high.

Matching red collars and a pair of black satchels completed their outfits. A
chain ran from each collar into the hand of their burly African American
handler. He had to be at least six and a half feet tall and at least three
hundred pounds. Three hundred pounds of muscle.

"Right on time." Marla had followed Pooch to the door.  The threesome
stepped inside the house.

Bubba disconnected the chains from the pairs collars.  Take these ladies
upstairs and remember to do anything that they instruct you two. You are in
their hands now." Pooch led the way, while the two cosmeticians followed,
in lock step, right behind.

"So well trained, " Marla sighed.

Their sculptured bodies made Pooch look dowdy.  Inside the bedroom the beauty
queens quickly went about their work. A hot bath was drawn in the adjoining
bathroom, filled with herbs and lotions. They had keys to the boots, probably a
universal set, and after sitting Pooch down on a towel placed on the bed, a
necessary safety measure, the torture boots were pulled of her feet along with
everything else, the vaginal spreader the stockings and her garter belt. One
girl cleaned and the other massaged Pooch as she lay in the divine tub. Her hair
was washed, and she was cleansed with soothing creams. Her hair was washed cut
and styled in a short but smart style. Her hands and feet moisturized, nails
clipped and lacquered in white translucent pearl polish. Every inch of her body
was examined and if necessary covered over with theatrical makeup. Her face was
changed from that of a cheap whore to the face of an angel  using light clean
tones. Unless you were very close the toilet slave looked like she had never
undergone the beatings of the past week.  Finally Pooch was dressed  in a simple
satin dress, made from white satin , flowing down to end just above her ankles.
It was sleeveless held up by a pair of spagetti straps on her shoulders. 
Pooch's legs were clad in a pair of white nylons held up by a lacy white garter
belt. High heeled strapy sandles adorned her feet.

She did not receive a bra but to her surprise a pair of  high cut white panties
was a part of her outfit.   Too soon the dream was over and Pooch's wrists were
tied tightly behind her back, the narrow wrists crossing each other, and she was
lead out of the room and down staires to great the guests.

Pooch's Story
Part 12a Prelude to Punishment

    	With a twin on either side escorting her down the stairs Pooch presented a
vision in white.

	For the first time since being handed over to Marla she felt human.

Cleaned, styled and perfumed she descended the stairs with unsure steps knowing
that she had only been made presentable so that soon this too could be taken
away from her, for the entertainment of others. The latex sheathed book-ends at
her sides felt no such trepidation but walked tall and confident sure of their
own beauty and feminine charms.

	The twins were Garret's property and trained to make sure that the women in his
club always looked their best. He believed that beauty on the part of the make
up artists served to assure their customers that indeed the indentured employees
were good at their craft.

	Judging from the change in Pooch, they were the indeed the best.

	Marla watched from the base of the stairs as the trio descended. Some of the
early guests were there with her, Garret, Steve and Greta.

	"Why don't you stand facing the corner as straight as you can with your
legs spread. I want you to remember that whenever you are told to assume a
position you will always do it with your legs spread unless told
otherwise." 	Pooch walked over to the corner just to the left of the door
and stood straight nose and eyes directed straight into the corner, legs spread
wide apart. "Pull down the panties as far as your knees and gather up the
back of the dress in your hands. I want everyone to know why you are here." 	
This was not as simple a task as it seems, Pooch had to slowly lift up the dress
using only her fingers requiring her to arch as far backwards as she could
bending her knees so that her crossed hands could grab onto the dress just below
her ass. Slowly the hem worked its way up her white nyloned legs. When the hem
crossed over the top of her panties Pooch grabbed the top of the elastic and
pulled down, again arching back bending her knees and without thinking bringing
them together.

	Marla exploded.

	"You fucking ignorant shit." Marla grabbed a fistful of Pooch's hair
and to the amazement of Marla's guests, that were just standing around at the
time, the dominatrix yanked her head backwards so hard that Pooch instantly lost
her balance and fell hard to the floor.

	Marla almost yanked off her entire scalp keeping her head from smashing into
the floor along with the rest of her body.

	Marla then straddled her face up slave and then still holding her head up by
the hair slapped her across the face with all the strength she could muster and
then brought her hand back up and did it again.

	"I thought I told you not to humiliate me in front of my guests! What a
stupid fuck you are! Did you think that I wouldn't notice what you just
did?" Marla was livid. She again grabbed the scalp with her fist and again
slapped the slave's face twice, this time with her left hand.

	Pooch looked for a hole to crawl into. Here she was being put on display for a
room full of strangers and being reprimanded at that. Her ears, about the only
part of her body not covered in make up turned a bright red.

	"What have you got to say for yourself, you fuck!" Marla continued to
scream so everybody in the house could hear.

	"I'm sorry Mistress, so sorry... Mistress please forgive me... please I
beg you to forgive me... O please... Dear God, Mistress I'm soooo sorry...
Pleeeeeeeese." Pooch was wailing.

	"While you are my property you can forget about forgiveness. When you are
caught disobeying or not living up to expectations you will be made to pay the
price. I just think about all the times that you get away with poor behavior and
add a bit extra for that. No slave of mine will ever disobey me with impunity.
Especially not in front of company." 	She let go of the hair and pushed
back Pooch's head. It hit the floor with a loud thud.

	"Get up and try it again!!" 	Marla's vicious outburst mesmerized the
guests. Previously to this most had only seen the cool and collected defense
attorney. This seemed so out of character. Imaginations were ignited with
thoughts of what Marla had in mind for the slave's actual punishment session if
she was this free with her demonic side before the program even began.

	In actuality Marla had not lost her mind at all. Marla knew that if Pooch was
not on her toes every second of her miserable existence she would bring down so
much additional punishment on herself that she would not last long at all. A few
good smacks across the face would not hurt her physically, but the reminder that
it was intended to be, could do her a world of good and even save her life.
Marla even decided on performing the outburst knowing it could make her look
like a raving lunatic to her guests, and decided that with this crowd that may
not be such a bad look. Greta smiled at Marla's performance recognizing it for
what it was.

	Pooch received the message with the clarity that comes with the sharp cracks
ringing out from your face. It is a feeling that is almost the ultimate
humiliation but for a masochist also a focusing force. Pooch indeed was a
masochist only that feeling of arousal had not been around for quite some time.
Living in a world were her previous limits would be akin to a pat on the head,
gathering the will to still keep living made it ahead of taking any erotic
enjoyment from her treatment, at least not more than the occasional brief
glimpse.

	Marla delivered her message successfully. Pooch would consider the propriety of
her every move from now on. Bruises spread across both of her cheeks. "Not
only do you not discipline your body but you have failed to discipline your
mouth. I didn't tell you to beg for mercy although I am sure I will later on
when you are suffering and I'll get something a lot better than what you just
blurted out. I asked you what you had to say for yourself and you couldn't even
tell me that you forgot or something equally lame. So I know you have nothing to
say for yourself. With such little control over what comes out, if I were you I
would try to keep that yap shut as much as possible. Now get up and position
yourself like you were told". Pooch began a series of gyrations of her back
and legs trying to pull the panties down to knee level against the force of her
spread legs. Bit by bit she worked them down with the very tips of her manicured
finger nails. She would push one side down and the other would ride up. Back and
forth she twisted her body to one side and then the other fighting a battle that
she could not seem to win until she succeeded in twisting them inside out and
catching the elastic in the bony protrusion of her knee.

	And so she stood there like an adolescent child waiting for a spanking only
Pooch was no adolescent and she didn't even dream that her punishment would be a
spanking. Maybe with a hand covered with claws. At seven o'clock Pooch was taken
downstairs on a leash led by her Mistress.

Marla, now dressed entirely in black leather pants as tight as humanly possible
and spike heeled boots right up to her knees, laces running from just past her
toes all the way to the top of the boot. On top she wore a short open jacket
revealing a black leather bra that held back her soft, round, generous breasts.
She led Pooch to the wall where three tiers of benches had been set up for the
attending guests. There were about 40 people in the stands. Marla led her
chattel from one side of the floor for all eyes to see.

	Pooch walked with her panties still pulled down around her knees and holding up
her pretty skirt to expose her female charms. Marla positioned her to one side
of the viewing stands facing a wall as she had done upstairs. Marla informed her
guests that they were most welcome to examine the slave before she was taken to
center stage for her punishment session. By the time her turn came up Pooch had
been examined by almost all.

	The Playroom looked darker than ever. Everything was in shadow except for a
small area in which the spotlights were centered. Spotlights had been positioned
against all four wall at ceiling level so that any given spot on the dungeon
floor could be lit up from all angles while not showing the clutter of cables,
cameras and people throughout the large room.

	Their privacy would be maintained.

	Marla left Pooch alone and walked under the spotlights at center stage.

	"Ladies and gentlemen," Marla spoke with well practiced elocution.

"Tonight you will receive an unexpected treat. In addition to the public
punishment of the toilet slave, Pooch, the owner of this most attractive pair of
twins," the spotlight landed on Garret's latex clad beauties, "has
agreed to a demonstration of their exemplary training. These girls have been
inseparable all of their lives but tonight their attachment to each other shall
be put to the test. Each has been fitted with a Texas Longhorn dildo, the tip
needle sharp. Their wrists are fastened to their collars, behind their necks, to
expose their bodies completely to the assault that is to come. The contest will
be which one will succeed in pulling out both the other's nipple rings using the
point of the horn.

The winner will be spared the painful mutilation. The loser will be stripped
naked, suspended by her jugs and given one hundred strokes of the cane for your
enjoyment. She will then have to endure reconstruction of the damage done by
tearing out the rings without the benefit of anesthetic." "There are
rules in this contest... Neither one can attack the other's head, in any way and
they may not step outside of the ten foot by ten foot square that's been drawn
on the floor. Any violation will be whistled by the referee and the offending
lady will step out of the ring and wait to be whipped with this lash that I hold
in my hand.

These tails are braided buffalo hide each a full thirty-six inches long and each
tip ending with a one once lead weight. This whip will ensure that the rules are
respected. And that a violation of the rules will result in lasting damage and a
real disadvantage to the offender. This whip will easily cut the latex outfits
and go much deeper. With four tails, that's the equivalent of a quarter pound of
lead crashing into you at over two hundred miles an hour. That can break bones
if wielded at unpadded areas like the ribs or the collar bone or wrist. The
punishment is three strokes for the first violation and then an additional
stroke will be added for each subsequent violation. If either of the ladies
fails to cooperate for the whipping she will immediately be turned over to the
dog Kennels for termination. Let me assure you ladies." 	Marla turned and
looked the twins straight in the eyes. "The Kennels are not the way you
want to go. It could take years to expire... The other will receive the hundred
strokes of the cane. You, the audience, will not be deprived of an excellent
show." The sisters, known only as Blondie and Blackie, in obvious reference
to their hair color were led into their arena of battle, on a leash held by a
large hooded man. A man that brought to mind images of an executioner from the
middle ages.

Their wrists were already secured as prescribed behind their necks. Once inside
the square, under the hot lights, the double leash was removed.

The hooded figure approached the gladiators with a pair of scissors and cut away
their latex garments around the base of each breast.

	It was now revealed how confining these garments really were as ample mammaries
burst forward into freedom each nipple sporting a large 6 gauge ring. The air of
smugness that had accompanied the two beauties only a short time ago was
completely gone. They had been inseparable all their lives and now they were
about to mutilate each other, at the very least. And possibly even cause the
death of the other if not through being gored then possibly by ending up in the
Kennels.

	"Before you begin there is just one other rule. If either one of you shows
the other any compassion then the one being shown the compassion will be turned
over to the dogs. So you see doing anything other than trying to win at all cost
will be of no benefit to the one being shown the mercy but instead seal her
demise. The contest will start when the referee blows the whistle and if you
hear the whistle during your bout you will immediately stop and await
instructions. Otherwise the contest will continue without interruption until the
winner is declared." 	Marla stepped aside.

	The sisters' haughty looks had been transformed to wide eyed fright.

One could imagine what must have been racing through their minds as they faced
each other. Both staring at the other's pointed dildo, neither wanting to lose
and yet not wanting to mutilate the other almost as much. What had they done to
deserve what was happening. As far as they could remember they had done nothing
wrong. The lights shining on the black latex heated their bodies and their ball
gags restricted their breathing. These factors assured that the fight would not
last too long and bore the audience. The hooded man blew his whistle.

	Neither slave wanted to risk getting too close to the other at this early stage
and be gored early. Kicking was going to be the obvious main mode of attack.
They were both wearing identical shoes, bright red pumps with steel tipped toes,
five inch heels and inch wide ankle straps that locked the shoes to the slave's
feet. The shoes were not the kind that would allow the girls to keep their
balance very well. After they exchanged the first few quick kicks that landed
from close range and without a lot of force on each other's lower legs, Blondie
tried to take Blackie down by kicking her legs from under her from behind and
she succeeded in sending her dark haired sister hard to the concrete floor.

Blackie was able to keep her head from hitting the floor by falling on her
elbow. The price was high as she felt a shock race up to her shoulder. Her right
upper arm lit ablaze in pain as the bone cracked. As soon as Blondie recovered
her balance she started to kick her sister in the back. Blackie kicked out
wildly from the pain.

	The whistle blew.

	When Blackie had kicked out her foot it crossed the line on the floor.

She had to stand up and present herself to the whip. The action of meekly having
to cooperate in her own punishment was more painful because of the humiliation
involved in obeying every command so that she could be punished more painfully.
Holding up her own breasts to the whip, or bending over and spreading her legs
to present an unobstructed pathway for the whip to strike the mucous membranes
of her ass hole and vagina. The pain was horrendous, but what could compare to
the total degradation of bending at the waist and holding her ass cheeks spread
for the lash. At least she wouldn't have to use her own hands this time, since
they were fastened to her collar. Knowing from past experience that hesitation
would not work in her favor, Blackie stood up as quickly as she could, now using
her left elbow to help herself off of the floor, and went to stand where the
referee pointed to.

	"Legs straight and spread wide apart. Bend right over at the waist and
present your ass." 	The raven haired slave complied at once. There was no
hesitation on the part of the referee as he brought down the leaden whip across
the right flank. Not only did it punch right through the latex covering it
punched right through her skin to the layer of fat below.

	Her leg gave way and it was all she could do to keep herself from falling.

	Blood oozed from the milky white fat turning it crimson... She recovered but
now bore her weight far more on her left leg. She had never felt such a forceful
blow from any whip.

	Blackie trembled waiting for the next strike and praying that it would not be
directed at her more sensitive parts. The site of the impact now felt as if it
were lit on fire. The sound made by the whip as it struck her flesh was a
sickening thud. It was a dull thud and not a sharp crack because no arm could
crack this heavy whip in such a short distance to produce the supersonic speed
it takes to produce the high frequency of the cracking sound.

	Blackie now understood beyond the faintest shadow of a doubt that these people
were not fooling around. The slave felt a sudden rush of nausea as she realized
that there were still two more lashes coming. She began to pray out loud,
praying that her private parts be spared the whip.

	The referee stepped into his second stroke and had the three foot whip wrap
around her waist and the tips strike her belly just below her navel. It was too
much for Blackie as she involuntarily felt her knees buckle. She collapsed to
her knees as the wind was knocked from her lungs. Her eyes bulged as her brain
registered and processed the damage, sending out pain impulses to her
consciousness. Her eyes pleaded that her violation of the instruction not to
move couldn't be helped. She would get right back up. She would present her body
to the whip again.

She would do it as soon as she could move.

	It took Blackie another fifteen seconds to get air back into her lungs and it
was all that she could do to get to her feet. The delay irritated the referee
who figured that Blackie was just trying to kill some time.

The force of the blow that was transmitted through the muscles of her lower
abdomen seriously bruised her bladder and she lost her control.

Urine flowed up and down the latex outfit trying to find room between her skin
and her clothing.

	Nobody would know about her accident till some of her pee found a channel
through which to escape. The pee was tinged with red. Her belly muscle could be
seen clearly where the latex had been ripped back. It was lucky that she hadn't
been fed all day or she would have puked as well and probably suffocated on the
vomit...

	The last stroke was the most devastating. All four tails sped through the air
converging right on her anus. Blackie leapt straight forward diving to the floor
landing on her udders and striking the ground with her chin. That was it, she
was done, she thought. She writhed on the floor curling up and trying to find a
way to put out the fire. She had had enough.

	Blackie wanted to die right on the spot. She couldn't seriously be expected to
go back into the ring to face her sister. When Blackie heard the referee tell
her to get up and back to the ring she began to cry.

She felt completely broken. Pee flowed into the newly opened gash adding its own
sting yet cleansing it at the same time. Four ribbons of blood ran down across
the inside of her thighs. Blackie tried to hold back a bowel movement but the
ruptured sphincter refused to hold and she evacuated while squirming on the
ground. Shit squeezed through the newly opened hole in her latex outfit. Blackie
didn't care what happened to her anymore, nothing could hurt more than she hurt
now. "This is the only warning that I am going to give you today, cunt. I
don't particularly like you. If you aren't back on your feet and in that ring in
exactly ten seconds I am going to just cut loose on you with this whip... Ten...
nine..." 	By the count of six Blackie was on her knees completely motivated
to do as instructed.

	Maybe she could still function after all. Maybe if she used the element of
surprise on her sister and caught her off guard she could gain an advantage. She
thought that if she could force Blondie out of the ring she would never stand up
to four strokes of the lead tailed whip. They both knew that the fourth stroke,
the next time, would almost certainly land on their cunts. If it had hurt her
anus so much that she wanted to die a similar stroke to the fleshy mons would
drive a girl out of her mind and into hysterics. Blackie figured that if she
could pull it off her sister would not only lose her advantage but might become
an easy win. The additional pressure of trying to straighten up forced the rest
of the stool out her back door. The live audience broke into laughter thinking
she had shit herself out of fear.

	Blackie didn't care because she knew that it wasn't cowardice that had made her
shit, it was the damage caused by the whip. The slave wondered if the laughter
from the audience would give Blondie a false sense of security... She was now
certain that she had the right plan. "Five...

four..." 	Blackie had staggered to her feet. The injuries to her legs made
them far less responsive and this in combination with the height of her heels
made for a very wobbly stance. She had to pull herself together, and she had to
do it fast.

	Blackie stumbled up to the ring, still bent over.

	"Three... two..." 	Blondie looked too relaxed.

	"One..." 	Blackie dove for Blondie's knees sacrificing her right
shoulder because Blondie wouldn't expect that... and Blackie was right. The blow
landed squarely knocking Blondie backwards and popping her right knee at the
same time. Only the fact that she had her hands cuffed behind her neck kept
Blondie's head from striking the concrete floor. How she managed to keep her
feet inside the ring no one will ever know but the first tiny movement of her
right leg threw Blondie into anguish. She couldn't get up.

	Blackie felt sorry for her sister, very sorry indeed. She saw her leg lying
twisted on the ground and it sickened her, but Blackie pressed her attack.

	She began to lay into Blondie's left leg, kicking it as hard as she could while
balancing on her stilettos. Blondie was kicked over and over. The whipping had
effected Blackie more then anyone thought.

Blackie was so afraid of getting the whip on her genitals and breasts that she
would have tortured to death her own mother had she been told to. There was more
muttering and giggles from the audience as a yellow streak found its way from
under Blackie's latex outfit. It was coming from the hole over the anus.

	Blackie figured that she would keep kicking her sister until she passed out and
then she could pull through her nipple rings with no struggle and less pain for
her sister.

	Marla had already thought of this scenario and smiled to herself. It was one
that she had thought about and thought likely to be picked. It had an easy way
out appeal to it. The problem was, and the reason Marla was smiling was, there
was no kicking the head. The one getting the boot wouldn't likely pass out until
she had bled enough internally to cause unconsciousness. Consciousness that was
likely never to return.

	Blackie's plan was about the worst there was for her sister. The irony of the
situation was delicious to Marla's jaded tastes.

	There was an additional irony to the situation that Marla had not thought off
and that was that no matter how well something has been thought out it doesn't
always proceed as planned.

	Blackie was trying to restrict her kicks to padded areas so she had not yet
broken any bones. On her way to kicking her sister in the shoulder Blondie
suddenly bent at her side causing Blackie's steel toe to strike Blondie on her
left earlobe, splitting it open and causing copious bleeding.

	The whistle sounded and Blackie almost died on the spot. She knew what she had
inadvertently done. "Step outside the ring... cunt... and assume the same
position you were in the last time. Pity you didn't learn to respect the rules
the first time around. Now I have to increase the dose to see if you will
respond better." Gasps where heard from the audience along with some
scattered applause reaffirming exactly where Blackie stood.

	This was an audience that wanted to see her hurt and she didn't doubt for a
moment that the shows producers would do everything they could to please the
spectators.

	The referee walked over to her right side and then took a step back.

	"Raise your head as a gesture requesting the next lash. You will be
getting 4 unless you fuck up and get more." Blackie raised her head and
looked right into one of the cameras.

	The audience would get a good look at her face at the moment of impact.

Every aspect of every stroke would be replayed to the closed circuit viewers.
They would see her face, they would see the site of the impact from different
angles and different speeds. Slow motion would capture the lead weights just
slicing through her skin tearing off pieces of flesh on their rough surface.

	The audience would step back and clearly see the whip arching through the air
only to come down on the lower outside part of Blackie's dangling left tit. Slow
motion showed the complete distortion of the entire gland as the lead weights
pushed aside quivering flesh transferring energy throughout the whole breast and
smashing capillaries throughout the entire organ. The poor quivering slave girl
collapsed to her knees and rolled up into a ball trying her best to soothe the
damaged tit. She even tried to hold it between her elbows, but to no avail. It
was like the whole tit had exploded sending out pain from everywhere. The
referee was not pleased and pulled Blackie's head back using her hair.

	He slapped her hard with an open hand. "Get the fuck back up before you
really piss me off." 	The invited guests all applauded as if on cue.
"If this was just the first stroke there was no way she would survive
this" she thought.

	To stand back up only to catch another lash more painful than the last or to
just give up and surrender to the pain was not an easy decision to make. She was
very aware that her pussy had not yet been whipped and knew she would have to
hold it open for the lash.

	Blackie then thought that he would probably strike her other breast next and
maybe she could take it. Blackie staggered back to her feet.

She got back into the most vulnerable position and looked up into the camera.
Blackie clearly heard the whistle of the tails as they flew right into her right
nipple which had been pointing almost straight down. The large mass of the tails
flattened Blackie's ample bosom right to her rib cage before it bounced back.
Only by steeling herself with all of her might had Blackie stayed on her
stilettos. Any appearance of a functional nipple was erased in one swoop. What
remained was just a spot that had been gouged out roughly and was covered in
dripping blood.

	Amazingly the ring had stayed in. This time too, it had felt like the whole
organ had exploded and not just the impact site. Looking down Blackie saw that
her left bag was already completely purple and swelling fast. The sight of her
right nipple made her want to puke. Despite twisting and writhing to distract
from some of the pain she managed to roughly maintain her position.

	"I think I will make some temporary changes for this next stroke,"
snickered the referee.

	He removed the ball gag from Blackie's drooling mouth and released her wrists
from the collar.

	"Now ladies and gentlemen, I will endeavor to show you the level of
obedience expected of a well trained slave. Notice I didn't say fully trained
since there is no such thing as a fully trained slave. It's a process that must
be a ongoing one." 	"Slave I will now use the last two strokes to whip
your cunt." 	Without the gag Blackie began to bawl. She knew what was
coming though she had never imagined it. The referee undid the strap holding the
longhorn dildo in position against her crotch and pulled a small folding knife
from his pocket. From pubic bone to tail bone the sharp edge sliced through the
latex and exposing the now naked flesh of her meticulously shaved pussy to the
direct assault of the whip. Some of the more sensitive guests became queasy even
bringing up their hands to cover their eyes. They had already seen the damage
done to protected flesh. "You will now reach back with both of your hands
and spread your pussy wide open for the whip. You will then look up once again,
this time I will be standing in front of you, and you will ask me to whip your
pussy. I believe that you are familiar with the routine."
"Y-y-y-y-y-es M-m-master," Blackie stuttered out between sobs.

	Blondie remained on the floor praying that somehow Blackie would avoid the
Kennels and that this nightmare would end. She too cried but she cried for her
sister.

	"If you try to avoid the whip you will get an additional stroke. I will
let you collapse after the lash but you will have only one minute to collect
yourself and ask for the next stroke. If the clock runs out then so will your
time. Your sister will be hung for her caning and you will be off to the dogs.
Now ask for it... BITCH!!" She didn't even remember how or why she had
gotten into her predicament but it had to be coming to an end. She had been at
her Master's side, along with her sister, for so long and had served him without
question to the best of her ability.

Why was he doing this to them now? Why was she being butchered in front of these
people. The last 5 strokes of the lead tailed whip had had to penetrate the
tough latex of her body suit, now she spread her bare flesh to the whip so it
could rip through parts far more sensitive. It was all she could do to just try
to stop any thoughts at all and for a second let her mind go blank.

	"Please Master, whip my pussy I have been bad and need correction." 	
SWISHHHH!! 	For a third time the tails whistled through the air only this time
they raced to the girl's absolutely most tender spot. Striking from in front of
Blackie the man brought the whip down so that the bottom tip of her tailbone was
the pivot point as the lead weights snapped around the length of her crack and
slammed into her unprotected clit. For the television audience it happened close
up and in slow motion. For Blackie her life flashed before her eyes. It looked
like almost half of her clit was ripped off as well as chunks of the hood.

	The whole area between her clit hood and vagina turned a deep purple color.
Blood broke through in spots. Worse... the tails cracked the pelvic bone through
the crotch. She immediately crumpled to the floor writhing in agony. A timer was
started. Blackie's fate would be determined in less than one minute.

	Blondie watched her sweet sister writhe in severe pain on the ground.

She could feel her pain as well as her own. Her mind tried to think of a
solution to their dilemma but if Blackie didn't get up and ask for yet another
stroke to her mangled cunt anything that she thought of would be of no use.
Somehow if they were both to survive, Blackie simply had to get up.

	Many years of handling pain came to Blackie's aid. Though she had never felt
anything quite like this she was not prepared to give up yet. At the thirty
second mark she began trying to get to her feet. Sharp pain shot through the
heart of her pelvis. On her hands and knees she planted her right foot on the
ground and tried to push up but that put an unbalanced stress on the bone
pushing the crack apart and sending shock waves of pain to the brain. Pain just
too great to get through. She put her knees together and used her left arm to
steady herself and help push her back till with both feet together she was
squatting on the floor.

"Twenty seconds," the referee reminded. Blackie now pushed up with
both legs and with even pressure on both sides of her hips she slowly, carefully
rose. It seemed even most of the degenerate audience was beginning to root for
the plucky slave. Blondie had made her decision as to what she would do if her
sister ever made it back into the ring, but first she had to make it.

	Her back side now turned to the audience Blackie placed her hands on her ass
cheeks and started to bend at the waist. As her head began to inch down towards
the ground she moved the toes of her shoes so they pointed out, then she put her
weight on the balls of her feet and turned her heels out, then her toes again.
Her legs spread apart while keeping equal pressure on her pelvis. It still hurt
terribly but she could just manage it. Though her legs were not spread nearly as
wide apart as they had been before it was the best she could do. Blackie lifted
her head.

Her hands shook almost beyond control as she spread her sex for yet another blow
from the weighted whip. Her voice shook like her hands and legs.

	"I have been bad, please whip my pussy so I could learn to be
better." 	Garret had promised an exhibition of obedience and it seemed as
though he had delivered.

	SWISHHHH!! 	Again the whip flew down between her legs but this time the blow
was not quite dead center, either because of compassion by the referee or more
likely the trembling of the wounded slave but the lead tipped tails collided
with the very top of the inside of her thigh and only after continued on to
strike the posterior edge of her vagina. Again Blackie howled from the impact
and collapsed to the floor but the thicker layer of soft tissue kept further
damage to a minimum but looking worse because it precipitated a lot of the
previously bruised flesh to split open causing some short lived but profuse
bleeding.

	For the people watching in the Playroom what they had seen already had eclipsed
all their previous live experience. Sure most had seen videos of women being
tortured, even tortured to death, but it didn't have the impact that this did.
Here just 20 feet away they actually felt the contact of each stroke through the
clear sound of flying metal striking naked flesh. They actually felt the sound
as the wave of energy struck their bodies. It was very much a low thud. No sharp
crack of a light weight tail. Some, sitting in a narrow area were sprayed by
drops of blood as they flew off the end of the whip along with tiny bits of
flesh. They saw first hand the impact had on the slave's entire body, how it
convulsed in pain and how it writhed in agony. They saw her struggle to get up.
They smelled her fear.

	They heard her frantic, heavy, breathing. Her heart beat reached 200 beats per
minute. But what they would never forget, what they would remember always, was
the sound of her shaking, quivering voice asking that it be done all over again.
Hands everywhere, disappeared underneath clothing. The decorum that had been
observed up till then began to quickly disappear when most of the audience
decided that since the whole show was designed as a masturbatory fantasy that it
didn't make sense not to masturbate, otherwise the whole point would be missed.
Common concealment gave way to open displays when people noticed their neighbors
doing it. They had reached a new level of being cool. They could masturbate in
public and still remain dignified. No one had any desire to jump anyone else's
bones but Blackie's. She had captured their imagination... for now.

	The first one to realize that she had caught a break was Blackie. The blow
contributed substantially to her considerable discomfort but after feeling all
the ones that came before, this one wasn't quite as bad. By the time she was
pushing herself up of the floor she knew she would be going back into the ring
to maim her sister. Getting up, though wasn't any easier then it had been a
minute ago. With a lot of effort Blackie rose from the ashes of her demise. What
she was going to do besides knowing that she had to walk the few steps back into
the ring. She was in so much pain that she put out of her mind the idea of
launching any more kicks to her sister's prone body. Blackie knew that she was
in no danger of loosing to Blondie since her sister couldn't get up off the
floor, but the only way Blackie could win was if Blondie didn't move at all. If
she moved at all there was no way Blackie could spear her nipple ring with the
dildo. All of a sudden Blackie didn't feel as safe from the overall defeat as
she just had. The only way to get her sister's nipple rings out was to grab them
with her hands, even though they would soon be reattached to her collar. Down on
the ground with her back on the floor she would have very little advantage over
her sister and maybe no advantage at all. The thought that this could be only
the beginning of her beating attained a new prominence in her mind. It was
shared with dozens of other repeating thoughts like the pain from the whip and
how she could do what she intended to her own flesh and blood. Flesh and blood
that was nearly identical to her own. Different only from the effects of
different experiences and not different through genetics.

They were, after all, identical twins. The steps to getting back in the ring
began.

	The referee again locked Blackie's wrists to the back of her collar.

Then he yanked her back to her feet by her right arm getting a new scream of
pain. It was silenced with the gag forced back between her teeth. Blackie didn't
resist. The worst part was when the Texas long horn phallus was strapped back
on. One strap ran from the front of a waist belt through the crotch and then up
the back side of the waist belt. The referee pulled the waist belt very tight
but when tightening the belt between her legs he even pushed Blackie forward
with a foot planted in the small of her back all the while pulling the other way
with both hands around the end of the strap. The hard leather bit deep into the
masticated tissue. The pain was so great she could not stand upright long.
Staggering back to the ring Blackie fell to her knees at the first opportunity
and then lay all the way down rolling over towards her sister, hoping she
wouldn't realize her intentions till it was too late. After a single revolution
she bumped into the bottom of Marla's black boot. "Ladies and gentlemen,
due to the extent of the slave sisters' injuries this fight cannot go on in the
way that it was originally intended and in fact would end up boring you to tears
it is better that it be called off."

A string of boo's emanated from the gallery.

Pooch's Story
Part 12b Prelude to Punishment

"Please, please, people, you will not be short changed. Instead of having
to declare one a winner and the other a loser, the decision of the owner is to
label them both losers, as indeed they are. Instead of only one of the pair
being hung by her breasts and caned they will both get a hundred sweet strokes.
And so that you are all aware that the caning isn't being just staged it's you,
my house guests, that will do the honors. All that is requested is to keep the
strokes below the tops of their shoulders. Afterwards they will each be fastened
appropriately to a horse and be made available for your use throughout the
remainder of the evening. The owner requests that you assist in helping them
realize again that they are nothing but a pair of slaves. You may have noticed
their arrogant attitude as they walk around freely with their noses in the air.
It was setting a terrible example to the other whores and the danger had to be
stopped. Slaves have no business walking around putting on airs. Whore slaves
need to know exactly what they are. By morning they should both know their place
once more in the hierarchy of life leading up to humanity." 	Both Blackie
and Blondie felt crushed by Marla's words. They hated her so much both thinking
that she had gotten to Garret and had been the reason he was so upset with them.

	He used to encourage that very cockiness as a display of his own power and that
his personal slaves would rank much higher then any of the rest and were his
slaves not because they were restrained and forced but because they enjoyed
being his slaves. Marla had to be the reason things had suddenly changed. Why
they would now be placed on a level just below that of a rat. When a rat is
killed the method is usually chosen for its efficiency. When you kill a slave
you do it slowly and with a great deal of pain. Hearing that the purpose of the
coming events was to drive their social status to the very bottom level, toilet
slaves to a pack of dogs. They had enjoyed their ride at the upper level of
slavery and were about to be pushed all the way back down. If they were given a
choice they would have picked another alternative but in Garret's domain death
was usually the result of a long stay in the Kennel.

	4 lengths of rope were produced 3/8" hemp and both the referee and Marla
began binding the base of their breasts using a slip knot after 2 wraps with the
rope. Once a knot was pulled as tight as it could be a nail was pushed through
the rope, just above the knot to prevent it from loosening past the point where
it was. The rope was then wrapped around the breast a second time around the
middle of the bulging balloons with copious slack left between the tie at the
base and the tie around the middle. When suspended the slack would allow the
sacks to stretch substantially before the loops of rope at the base took some of
her weight. The system not only allowed a great deal of stretching but it
ensured that the ropes could not be pulled off no matter how violently the two
slaves might struggle. Both Blondie and Blackie, now with their udders tightly
tied off, were dragged by their collars till they each rested below a spreader
bar connected by a steel cable to a winch on the ceiling. At each end of the
spreader bar was an eye bolt to which the tit ropes were fastened. It wasn't
enough to just suspend them by their breasts. If the punishment could be made
more painful it would be, and so their breasts were pulled hard towards opposite
ends of the spreader bar bringing the two slave sisters to wail and moan even
when still on the ground. At the push of a button the winches came to life as
did the vocal cords of the two slaves. With so little load the cable rolled up
fast jerking them first on to their feet and then into the air. The slip knots
pulled tight and both Marla and the referee went over with two more nails in
their hands once again to push them through the rope at this point so that the
knot could not loosen.

	The milk bags bulged and then turned purple. The slaves forgot about everything
else.

	Even Blondie's torn knee stopped bothering her although it too had been yanked
out of position and now hung from her upper leg with no support.

All they felt was fire on their chests at a pain level that neither could stand
much longer. Their beautiful bosoms were being pulled out by the roots.

	Silently they prayed for the caning to begin as quickly as possible.

	All Marla, and most of the viewers felt was tremendous excitement between their
legs.

	With every member of the audience entitled to administer 5 strokes of the cane
there was no thought of feeling disappointed because both unlucky slaves had
kept their nipples.

	They would probably disappear during the beatings anyway, after all only the
neck and up were out of bounds to the canes.

	Two deep buckets were brought forward by Marla and the referee, turned
executioner.

	They held a half dozen canes each, soaking in a vinegar, brine solution. The
dangling slaves didn't notice as all their attention was being focused on their
elongated bags. After putting down her bucket Marla gave Blondie a firm push
setting her swinging and twisting in the air, and sending the pain level of her
chest spiking higher. The referee got Blackie's attention with a swift kick to
the center-front of her left thigh with his work boot.

	"Do I have your attention?" shouted Marla.

	Blackie imagined that she was in hell. Such pain wasn't possible in the real
world while remaining conscious. Worse was that she knew soon the pain in her
breasts would spread to the rest of her body. Blackie had only been caned once
before and she remembered every agonizing second of the experience. She had
gotten 20 strokes but thought she would go out of her mind from the pain. And
she wasn't hanging by her tits then either, but in the relative comfort of
kneeling over a caning block. "It wasn't possible to survive 100," she
thought.

	Marla had gained their attention.

	"First you will be stripped naked, most people enjoy seeing the marks that
they leave. Later they can sit back and look at you thinking proudly that they
had left those marks. Besides it hurts more without the latex protection...
Right now you probably think that you are feeling about as much pain as you can
handle. You're right, but there is a solution to the problem. You will soon
receive an injection of stimulants that will keep you wide awake and interested.
4 foot rattan canes that have been soaked in brine will be used. The brine helps
keep the canes supple and the cuts sterile. It also makes each cut feel like
it's ablaze. The canes will be wielded with both arms much like they were the
last time you were caned only this time they will be able to reach all those
tender spots that were safe then. You didn't even have your legs spread for that
one, and your tits were buried on the blocks, shielded by your backs. Now
they're all stretched out and waiting to be whipped. I hope you two enjoyed your
last taste of the cane because this time it will be a lot worse. Hell, you
probably already hurt more...

Right now you are probably imagining how much the cane will hurt when it lands
between your legs and crushes your clit hood and everything immediately
underneath. Make no mistake you will feel the cane there but have you ever felt
it across the soles of your feet. After a half a dozen across each foot it will
be a week before the pain begins to fade but you will still be required to walk.
Barefoot, if your feet don't fit your shoes anymore. Blondie! You will be on
your feet way sooner than you think, bum knee and all. You will each get 100
strokes of the cane.

If I were you I wouldn't move around too much or those bags are likely to tear
right off." 	Tears rolled down two pairs of eyes. The pain from their
stretched and constricted milk sacs was overwhelming. Both sex slaves hoped to
feel the cane if only to distract them from the torture of their ample bosoms.
It hadn't occurred to them yet that it would be those very same breasts that
would get the most attention from the cane. The skin above their sternum and
underneath their tits felt just about ready to tear.

The glands themselves pounded with pain at every heart beat. Severely congested
they were ripping the skin from the inside with the weight of their bodies
pushing everything inside their breasts forward and making them ready to
explode. Their color had changed to a vivid deep purple.

Veins pushed against the skin leaving their impression on the surface.

Some burst from the intense pressure leaving bruises everywhere around the bags.
Breathing was labored, every slight movement causing an increased sensation of
bursting organs and splitting skin.

	As the final acts of preparation the hooded referee cut of the dangling slaves'
latex uniforms leaving their glistening, wet, skin exposed to the direct assault
of the cane, and removed their gags. No one would be deprived of hearing the
music of their shrieks and screams. A caning like the one Blondie and Blackie
were about to received is more closely associated with Muslim fundamentalist
countries where a serious offense might lead to a sentence of 20 strokes, and
that would be for a man.

These rather small girls would be getting 100 each. Their only advantage was
that they weren't schooled in the ways of caning and some of the punishment
would be administered by women, who couldn't possibly wield the pole as hard as
men. Otherwise they would both have been handed a death sentence.

	"Ladies and Gentlemen," Marla started up again. "Since some of
you are inexperienced at this, let me demonstrate the proper way to use
this." Marla picked up a cane from one of the brine buckets and stepped
behind Blondie. With a scream Marla brought the cane from as far back as she
could reach whistling through the air and brought it down using her right arm,
squarely across the middle of the slave's back. Reflexively the slave girl
arched her back giving the slip knots, holding her udders, a good yank. A scream
emanated from the previously quiet, but now gag free, slave.

	Damage done by the cane is mostly invisible although it will raise heavy welts.
It damages muscles, blood vessels and nerves, well below skin level without
cutting the skin too much. This markedly reduces the chance of infection but
increases the level, and length of time, that pain is felt. Slow motion cameras
have shown how the impact of the cane sends a shock wave to flesh far from the
impact site and bone bruising is common along with deep muscle bruising.

	"That's the wrong way," explained Marla to a now very interested
audience. "It's wrong because I held the cane in one hand and couldn't get
a lot of my energy into it... You must use both hands on your instrument in
order to use the strength of your whole body. Now watch me again." Marla
stepped back away from Blondie by a full step. With the cane held firmly in both
hands, the way one would hold a baseball bat, Marla twisted her entire body
along with her arms, away from Blondie.

Then with a second Banshee scream she stepped towards Blondie while
simultaneously bringing around the cane driven by her whole torso as well as her
arms and shoulders. This time when it landed the crowd saw the poor slave girl
go into hysterics. Blood vessels broke, spilling their contents and showing
massive bruising along the length of the cane's mark. "That's how it's
done. Now if you could form two lines, one at each of these advertisements for
the need for regular discipline." "You should count yourselves
extremely lucky cunts. If you had gotten the Kennel you would be being strapped
down to have your lower legs and hands amputated so that you could only get
around by crawling and pose no threat to either the dogs or to escape. It also
makes sure that you can only satisfy the dogs' sexual needs with your stinking
holes. No hand jobs. As long as you satisfy the dogs' needs then you live and
when they get bored of you they tear you apart knowing that a fresh face will
replace the one they get rid of... So... When I tell you to spread your legs for
the cane just think of how lucky you are getting off so lightly. Learn your
lesson well my dears, because next time it will get rough." 	"Pooch!
Marla shouted. "Some of these people have never caned a slave before and I
don't think it would benefit the twin's learning process if we had people coming
up who couldn't deliver a descent stroke. Don't you agree, SHIT!?" 	Pooch
was jolted away from her little world of roaming, squeezing, twisting, pinching
hands, to trying to grasp what her god had just said.

The spotlights moved to bathe her in light. The question begged the answer, Yes.
Pooch replied, "Yes Mistress." 	"How could we get these people
some practice, SKANK!?" What other slave could be practiced on Pooch had no
way of knowing, and so again the question begged the answer and her reply was:
"They could practice by caning Pooch." 	Marla's heart was gladdened
when she heard the replies. Pooch was learning fast and showing no signs of
wanting her own destruction. She also knew and thought about how fine a line she
had to stride if she was to completely break Pooch's spirit while at the same
time strengthen her instinct for self preservation. It would be her ultimate
goal to create a slave that would do anything at all just to preserve its own
life. Not to attain some improvement, a respite from her miserable condition,
but just so she could continue to go on with no light at the end of the tunnel.
Marla was sure that Pooch was such an animal.

	"Good idea." "Would you remove the cunt's cuffs?" Marla
asked the referee. "When the cuffs are off you will strip off that pretty
dress, fold it up neatly and hand it to the referee. You will be wearing it
again some other day. Then I want you to take one big step away from that wall,
turn around and face it again, spread your slave legs wide and put the palms of
your hands on the wall. That way those that want to practice a side stroke can
use your ass, those that want to practice a straight down chop will have your
back and those that would like to practice their golf swing can come up between
your legs." 	Pooch obeyed her Mistress's command and soon stood naked
except for her shoes stockings and garter belt, legs spread wide revealing all
to the spectators and cameras.

	Bent 90 degrees at the waist hands pushing against the wall she felt so
vulnerable, so exposed. It had been such a short time since she had last tasted
the cane but in many ways it was an eternity. The anticipation of the
devastating cane made her momentarily forget her pains like the one from her
swollen womb and overfilled bladder. Remembering her last run in with the cane
Pooch figured she wouldn't last long.

	SWOOOSHH!! Pooch heard. She clenched tight waiting to feel the blow.

CRACK!! She heard this as well and it was all but a confirmation that the cane
had landed, Pooch screamed. She remembered how she had screamed the last time
she was caned.

	Everybody burst out in laughter at the stupid slave whore. She'd only been hit
with a plastic shower rod cover. It couldn't even leave a bruise. "Look how
stupid she is. She's obviously sex slave material." "She's lucky to be
treated as well as she is." 	The spectators justified their joy in Pooch's
total humiliation with these thoughts. They thought she was getting off lightly
so far. Pooch could do nothing but cry while maintaining her position. Even
though they were ineffective in creating pain the light, hollow, plastic canes
continued to rain down all over her body as men and women mocked her and told
her that next time they would just use the real canes and how they just couldn't
wait to see Pooch fuck up.

	A feeling of intense loneliness overcame Pooch. No one else could even imagine
how completely alone she felt. She was alone in the middle of a mob that only
wanted to see her suffer and in fact had come specifically for that reason. Just
as were, who knows how many, television viewers.

They all wanted to see the same thing. They wanted to see her suffer and they
all justified it because she deserved everything she got. What a stupid, filthy
animal she was and she most certainly must have broken some pretty serious
rules, even if she was never caught.

	Pooch knew she had no escape at all. Why didn't they just kill her and get it
over with she thought. There was no great knight that was going to save her and
no friend that would even miss her, let alone, look for her.

	Pooch winced as an upper cut slash caught her naked pussy. It stung a bit.
Nobody had told her she wasn't allowed to cry, yet. It was all that she could do
but to show everyone how sad and miserably she was. Maybe they would get their
fill of her crying, and stop torturing her. She was certain that it wouldn't
work but what else could she do? Even though the blows raining down on her were
just a mockery she couldn't help but feel the hostility that her tormentors had
towards her and how they seemed to wish that the light plastic tubes were indeed
heavy, brine soaked cane. The unconcealed blood lust of these people was bone
chilling.

	Marla seemed satisfied with how this scenario was evolving. Pooch had been
reduced to having the will of a dish rag and completely stripped of her dignity
even before her official punishment had begun, while at the same time the
excitement level of her invited guests had been whipped into a frenzy. She was
sure it would be a memorable caning for all involved.

	Blondie and Blackie tried to stay as still as possible. Every little movement
increased the already unbearable pain and made them feel that their poor
ballooned and stretched bags were close to being pulled off.

The television spotlights returned to the quiet twins.

	Before coming into view by any of the television cameras each guest was handed
a loose fitting hood to protect their identity. They would then choose a cane
from one of the brine buckets and receive their instructions from Marla. She
wasn't going to let this deteriorate into a free for all. It would have offended
her sense of order. Since this was a bonus that the guests had not expected
Marla had no trouble convincing them to go along with her instructions.

	To save time and intensify the experience further for the twins Marla arranged
it so that two of the guests would be beating them at the same time. The first
pair to cane Blackie were husky tall men. Being the strongest looking of the
bunch one would apply the cane across the strong muscles of her back while the
other would beat her between her belly button and the front of her thighs. The
idea was to alternate the strokes from front to back so she would feel a steady
cascade with no time to recover. The men, now true believers in the rightness of
what they were doing, gave Blackie no quarter. The canes slammed into her
feminine, soft, body leaving trails of ugly welts and broken skin.

Though she had experienced many whippings as a slave none had been as vicious
and brutal as this.

	Quickly she saw the pattern and tried to desperately twist and sway out of the
way in complete futility. Her wrists fastened behind her neck she could not
offer up another part of her body to take the blow. Her struggle pulled the slip
knots around her purple jugs even tighter but she didn't even notice. When one
of the blows landed just above the spot she had been hit with the lead tipped
whip she convulsively brought up her knees trying to curl up into a little ball,
curling and stretching her back for the blow that came after, right across her
kidneys. This brought down her legs again as her back arched convulsively. Her
body now swung wildly from her sideways pointing tits.

	When they were done the two men were satisfied that they had indeed impressed
upon the slave the importance of proper deportment. Blackie just hung their with
her eyes closed and her lips moving in silent prayer. 90 more were still to
come.

	It was now Blondie's turn for some attention. It would be her tender, plump and
unmarked nether regions that would give her a howling introduction to the joys
of the cane. Marla had a couple of taller men, whom she knew were fine golfers,
administer this anticipated, but, by the poor girls very dreaded, part of their
caning. Like before one man stood in front of Blondie and one stood behind.
Marla instructed her to spread her legs to the sides paying no heed to the pain
it would cause her mangled knee. Marla had been told that these were good and
obedient slaves. She was going to find out how obedient they were right now.

	As Blondie spread her legs, gritting her teeth in pain, Marla placed the backs
of her hands against the insides of Blondie's white, piss soaked thighs and
pushed them farther apart.

	"That's where you keep them. I don't want your fat flabby thighs getting
in the way of the cane when it's aiming for target far more interesting. Can you
imagine how it's going to feel when that same cane lands here..?" 	Marla
now used her fingers to tease Blondie's delicate dark inner pussy lips apart.
Marla smiled to herself as she gently pulled on them to expose her vagina. Her
wet vagina.

	"You're wet!" Marla announced to the world.

	Blondie felt sick when she heard that. It couldn't be because she was aroused,
fuck no, she was terrified. Her stomach heaved but she was empty.

	Marla began using the tips of her fingers to walk her hand back to Blondie's
crinkled brown ass hole. She tickled it with a finger nail.

"This will make a challenging, but very sweet target." "I thought
that there wasn't any point keeping everyone waiting so you are going to have
your private parts whipped first. It's going to be interesting to see if this
gentleman can get your shitter to invert after only five strokes.

As for this area," she moved her hand to Blondie's clit hood and started
teasing the little nub. "I just want to see the colors you're going to
display here," and she circled the area from the top of her clit hood to
just before her anus. "These are not very big targets so I don't want you
moving around. If you are lucky the second stroke will hit before you feel the
pain of the first and you'll be able to keep your legs spread open till after
the second strike. If you close up neither stroke will count. You will have
thirty seconds between each pair of strokes to get your legs back into the
position they are in now." 	Cameras zoomed in for the best possible view of
the selected area. The two men that would wield the canes carefully measured
their stokes, bringing up he canes several times to just touch the flesh of the
terrified girl, adjusting their position so the tip would just land on the right
spot. Marla nodded her head.

	WHHUUUP!! 	The man standing behind her swung his cane through the gap between
Blondie's legs connecting right over the clit hood.

	WHHUUUP!! 	The man in front struck the waiting anus.

	Mercifully the two strokes did come in such quick succession that Blondie was
able to keep her legs apart long enough for both strokes to do their damage, but
just barely.

	With no regard to the pain in her knee the dangling slave brought her legs
together and pulled her thighs up to her belly. With the movement the knots
around her bags slid tighter.

	At first she let out a loud yelp followed my a continuous owwwww, owwww.

	"Get them apart," Marla reminded. "That was only the
first." 	The home audience watched the replay in slow motion video.

	As soon as Blondie began to spread her legs for the next blow everyone could
see the new colors. It was as though an artist had just applied a brush stroke
of purples and reds.

	There was the same touch of gloss from the dampness. Now when she began
spreading her legs she couldn't stay still. Blondie was shaking all over. The
blow to her anus had been so hard it had ruptured the top layer of her strong
sphincter muscle. If her poop shut was to invert it would only happen if the
muscle snapped apart; otherwise it would try to hold everything shut
reflexively, and her lower bowel would never see the light of day. If she could
avoid needing to be sewn back together taking a crap would be a study in agony.

	Her mind raced so fast that Blondie thought about needing to be sewn back
together, and figured she would never survive it. She figured there would be no
anesthetic for stitches.

	She prayed there would be anesthesia when her knee was repaired.

	Both Marla and the referee/executioner tried to hold the whimpering girl
steady.

	WHUUUMP!! 	WHUUUMP!! 	Came the next two blows with a similar result although
the girls shaking made the canes both land to the right of their intended
targets.

Not by much but by just enough to lay another line of reds and purples on either
side of the first tripling the width of the affected area.

both her inner lips were bruised with inch wide welts running back from the tips
of the canes, widest and most swollen at the very tip and tapering out slowly.
This time Blondie couldn't control herself at all not only curling up her thighs
again and this time twisting her body from side to side trying anything to
distract herself from the pain in her cunt, even if it had to be done by trying
to twist her swollen purple melons out of the grip of the ropes. The bowstring
taught boobs stretched a fraction more and it felt like the skin would soon
split at the sights of the ties. There was no more yelp but pained howl that
went on and on. When her chief tormentors went to help her spread her legs
Blondie just curled up tighter trying to resist.

	Marla wasn't as impressed by the slaves training as she had been earlier.

	"It seems like this cunt has stopped obeying. I guess we'll be starting
over again. This time though she will have her legs pulled apart by a couple of
winches that you see connected to the ceiling. " 	A rope sling was
fashioned around each of her feet and a hook on the end of two cables went
around a piece of rope running across to top of each foot. As the winches began
to turn, new shrieks came from Blondies throat. She felt the pain in her knee
again. The ropes around her mammaries tightened more as she frantically twisted
her upper body left, right and left again.

	"Bwaaaa!!, bwaaa!!! oh ...bwaaaa!!... Oh, please, pleeeease have mercy,
please have mercy, bwaaaa!! 	"We will start from the beginning as you have
been told." 	"Gentlemen, you may now strike her again in any way you
please. This time with no pattern. We'll soon see how she likes that. Oh and I
suggest that you finish quickly, before too much blood gets a chance to leak out
and things get very messy." 	Blondie's mind was now racing at an even
faster clip. Not only was she already in delirious pain but they were now going
to tear her tight crack apart.

	When the cameras zoomed in to give alternating close up views of her ass hole
and cunt many of the viewers shut their eyes.

	With a three inch wide band between her legs already brutalized by the wet
canes blows each new swing broke through the skin first exposing the white fatty
layer and then turning almost instantly red with seeping blood. Her nub and clit
hood didn't split on the next impact but swelled up immensely, and looked to
have gone black in color. Swollen to the size of a grape, Blondie's clit pushed
back her hood exposing itself directly to the cane.

	On the next stroke it split.

	Her little brown shit hole did poorly, as well. Despite his best efforts the
man applying the can to her anus couldn't get the tip to land on the exact same
spot all the time. The tissues swelled up all around the edge of the target and
when the cane would strike the swollen mass, the membrane would break every
rime.

	For the final stroke fresh canes were pulled from the brine bucket, just
dripping with salt and vinegar.

	Already the salt deposited on earlier cuts was drying the tissues and shrinking
them opening up the wounds. Marla shoved smelling salts under Blondie's nose to
clear her head for the last cut of this series.

	Blondie jerked her head back as the blessed feeling of fading away disappeared,
replaced by unwelcome alertness.

	The hooded executioner picked up a rag and patted it up and down the slaves
crack soaking up the blood so the last swats wouldn't splash the crimson fluid
all over the guests.

	WHUUUMP, WHUUUMP!! 	The last two strokes came in quick succession eliciting the
loudest scream yet from the shattered slave. The pain was so intense she didn't
notice any of her other pains for several minutes after the last stroke of the
canes. Only after it died down could she again notice the throbbing, bursting
and pinching pain in her udders, the tender swelling pain on her still expanding
uterus, or the aching throughout her spine because the pulling of the bags
caused her back to arch backwards severely. Blondie couldn't see what her most
private parts looked like and that was a good thing.

	In fact the entire region around her anal ring had ballooned so much that it
was hard to tell that there was a passage there. There was little to distinguish
between the appearance of mucous membrane and skin. Both were black. Blood ran
everywhere dripping straight down to the floor or running down her legs to the
floor.

	Blackie saw every stroke that her sister had taken.

	There is something to be said for not knowing your fate and right now Blackie
would rather have not known hers. She had survived the lead whip, but she had
done so because the number of strokes was limited. One hundred seemed as
unbearable as one thousand. She new she would break.

	Blondie's crack whipping wasn't yet complete.

	Marla went over to fetch the toilet brush Pooch used for bathing and dipped it
in the burning ointment.

	When the brush contacted Blondies shredded cunt she let out an animal scream
and passed out. It would take a full five minutes to reacquaint Blondie with
consciousness, and when she did awaken she thought she was burning in hell and
began to scream again hysterically. The executioner used the same rag he had
used earlier and held it shoved into the burning crotch flesh applying pressure
to stop the bleeding.

	Marla was glad she had got this part of their punishment over with, She had
worried that if it were left till the end the slaves might not give their best
performance. Marla rung her hands in anticipation as she turned toward a totally
terrorized Blackie.

	"Now it's your turn," she smiled. "I think we'll do those milk
sacks of yours." 	Marla strode over while her assistant continued to hold
the rag against Blondie's crotch. Her screams were dying down not only because
she was increasingly growing more hoarse but because she had expended so much of
her energy in trying to distract herself away from the terrible burning by
trying to hurt her own tits but it was futile. The torment emanating from down
below would not let itself be diminished. So her twisting and squirming settled
down from complete exhaustion and not because she hurt less. The bleeding was
not severe and was soon stopped by the pressure.

	Using the tip of her own cane, one with a gleaming silver sharpened point. She
taped the end of the instrument lightly against well exposed inside bottom edge
of her right sack. She tapped the cane between the two loops of course hemp rope
that bound it to one of the ends of the pole which currently held her well off
the ground. Marla saw how the skin was ready to split and once it started
Blackie's own weight would cause it to rip further. The caning would leave
terrible scares as a lifetime reminder that she was no more then the lowest
slave. Blackie had been injected earlier with a timed release amphetamine that
would kick in at ant minute. The slave girls were often injected with
amphetamines before being displayed to make them seem more alive and with it.
Today the injections were given to help keep Blackie and Blondie conscious
during their ordeal and feeling the pain at a higher than normal intensity
level.

	Marla now brought the tip of the cane just below the nipple. Blackie, who was
trying to keep perfectly still gritted her teeth.

	Marla poked around the expanded arola just lightly pushing with the tip.

	Blackie began to get increasingly tense. Not only did it hurt she knew this was
nothing compared to what she would be getting.

	Marla put the point through the heavy steel ring in her nipple and gave it a
good tug throwing the suspended slave into a panic. Then she just pulled it out.

	"Ladies and gentlemen, This exhibition had been set up with the express
intention of seeing at least two and possible three nipple rings being torn out
through the nipple flesh." 	Marla twirled her cane around now holding it by
it's pointy end and exposing the hook screwed into the other end. She now
brought up the hook end and grabbed the end of Blackie's right nipple ring. and
began pulling with a hard and ever increasing force. Soon the end of the milk
sack looked more like the tip of an old rocket with a painted nose cone.

	Just when Blackie thought things just couldn't get any worse they did.

Now her focus of attention shifted from her aching torso something she could
clearly see.

	"Nobody expects to see product demonstrators with un-scared skin.

Customers at The Leather Shop love to see the effects of the tools they're
buying." 	Marla held the cane with both hands now and put her back into
pulling out the ring. Blackie's scream echoed around the cement walls of the
playroom.

	Marla stumbled forward with the sudden release of the ring from it's fleshy
prison. As the cane snapped forward the ring flew off the hook smashing into a
wall and providing someone with a souvenir of the experience.

	It had been an evening of greatest and this was no exception as Blackie had
never felt anything as painful as what just happened but there were no signs at
all that she would black out. She tried not to look at her mangled nipple but
she couldn't help but take the occasional glimpse.

Blood ran down the breast until it reached the first loop of rope, and then
dripped down onto the floor. There was a steady drip. Marla waited a minute to
allow the shocked slave time to settle down...

	"Now you will answer me this question. If you answer correctly there will
only be one more ring pulled out between you and your sister. If you answer
wrong then two more rings will go the way of the first." 	"Here is the
question. Should I pull out your other ring or should I pull out one of your
sisters, who, as you've just seen has gone through a very nasty
experience." 	Blackie tried to think only to feel Marla's small personal
whip cut across her belly.

	"Answer me now BITCH!," Marla implored.

	With no time to think Blackie blurted out. "Please mistress pull out
mine!!" 	"Wrong answer!!" 	"From now on you had better learn
to worry only about saving your own skin. If you can pass off something on to
your sister you better take every opportunity of doing it. You will learn to
make decisions on the basis of what is good for you and not another slave. As a
reward for trying to be a martyr you will both have another ring pulled out. The
worst scenario for you, since all you accomplish is making things worse for
yourself because Blondie, over there, was going to loose one of hers, anyway.
You'll learn fast that there is no nobility in sacrificing yourself to another
slave. Not like there is when you sacrifice yourself to a superior." 	
"Now I'm going to give you another choice. Instead of pulling out your ring
I could pull out both of Blondie's nipple rings. Which would you like me to do?
Shall I pull out your other tit ring or do I pull out both of hers." Marla
pointed her finger at Blondie. Blondie who had still not fainted away but now,
near complete exhaustion, she continued to writhe while still suspended in mid
air by. Suspended from her tortured boobs.

	"Just look at her," Marla went on. "She is not doing well at
all, Having her nipples ripped apart could put her over the edge... Look at her
lips go. Nobody has any idea what she's babbling about except maybe
herself..." 	"So. Which do you prefer?" 	Blackie would never wish
harm on her sister but now she was trapped.

Showing sympathy wouldn't help her sister but it would defiantly make it worse
for herself.

	"Pull out both of my sisters nipple rings, Mistress" Blackie strained
to whisper.

	Blackie would have welcomed death with open arms at that moment.

	"WHAT!!," Marla shouted at the desperate slave. "I didn't hear
you." 	"Please Mistress, pull out both my sisters nipple rings." 	
Blackie's voice was stronger, but still too quiet to satisfy Marla.

	"If I can't hear you the next time you talk I'm going to start pulling out
your pussy rings as well," came Marla's sharp reply.

	"PLEASE MISTRESS PULL OUT BOTH OF MY SISTER'S NIPPLE RINGS," Blackie
screamed out as best she could under the conditions. It was loud enough for
everyone in the room to hear without any electronic aides.

	Blackie was almost dead inside. She began to understand what real pain was and
what they were doing to her body palled in comparison to what Marla was doing to
her mind. She couldn't believe what she had just done. Up to a few minutes ago
she never imagined saying anything like she had just said and now she had not
only said it but yelled it. Sure she knew that Marla would do what she wanted to
do but still Blackie thought... Maybe the real reason was to save her own skin.
She could no longer tell. She started to think about what would happen when she
had to hold her own legs spread for the cane. She hurt so much down there, and
it wasn't just a surface pain but a deep down pain.

	"Ladies and Gentlemen, Lords and Ladies," Marla put on her finest
courtroom manner.

	"Although both these cunts posses milk bars of ample size their mass is
quite low so when the cane strikes the organs will absorb most of the shock
which will spread right through. With so much pressure inside the bags trying to
find an outlet, the skin will be hard pressed not to tear like a too tight pair
of slacks. Because of the danger of having the entire sack rip off as any tears
in the skin would try to pulled by her own weight, the caning will be restricted
to the fronts of the breasts where there is no weight effect. Don't worry, The
shock of each blow will penetrate right down to her ribs. Of course there is
such a beautiful target on each globe, the nipples. It shouldn't take more then
a couple of strokes to tell this sack of shit, that the nipple isn't where she
wants to be whipped, if she can avoid it. I expect there will be quite an aerial
display as she squirms trying to get the cane to miss it's target. So that
nobody feels that I am being unfair in handing down such a heavy punishment I
will have the ones caning her breasts be women." 	A pair of female
silhouette approached from the stands and stopped to put on hoods. Blackie
recognized them immediately from their shape. The two women were Greta and
Shandra.

	Blackie had seen their victims before and knew she would be broken tonight.
They all were.

	Both Shandra and Greta were expert in their use of the whip and other
implements of correction. A large segment of their clientele expected it.

	In the hands of these experts the wet canes would come down with more force
then a baseball bat connecting with a ball in the hands of a major league
hitter.

	Shandra, substantially shorter then Greta would come over her head with the
cane, both hands on the handle, and smash it down on the right tit.

She stood head on to it.

	Greta, was tall enough to wield it like a baseball bat. She would attack the
left organ, from the side. Greta's size and taught musculature made her not only
imposing but in combination with her Slavic good looks she was incredibly
erotic.

	With a subtle nod of her head Marla began the flight of both canes to their
targets at the same time, connecting within small fraction of a second from each
other.

	First came the whistle and then the sickening smacks as the polls plunged into
their soft targets splitting the skin with both tips and sending a shock right
up her spine. Reflexively Blackie's body convulsed bending and twisting her body
tightening the loops of rope even more, Shandra's cane expanded the existing
tear in the right nipple while Greta opened up a brand new cut.

	Marla walked over to the bawling, squirming figure and began to stroke her
flanks with her gloved hands.

	"There, there, take it easy." Marla's voice soothed and reassured.

	Blackie's mind was on overload processing more sensations then it could handle
shutting of any kind of real thought. All she could do was react to the pain.

	For the second blow the women switched places ensuring equal treatment for
Blackie's jugs.

	As Blackie began to settle down Marla took a close look at the damage to the
two globes pulled by the spreader bar and hanging right in front of her face.
She saw that even though much of the canes' energy was absorbed by splitting the
skin still the rapidly forming bruises extended way beyond the width of the
canes.

	Marla extended her tongue to lick some of the blood flowing from the new wound.
Extending her tongue out its full length and with the very tip flicking back
drops of the crimson elixir. The air was heavy around the breast perfumed by the
pungent aroma of fear and sweat.

	She stood there several minutes, licking and caressing till the only motion
from Blackie's body was her heavy breathing and incessant trembling. The two
custodians of the canes would be able to once again strike the same targets only
from different angles.

	Marla stepped aside.

	Blackie scrunched up her eyes.

	"WHHHHAP, WHHHHAP", came the successive sharp blows again on target.

	This time Marla didn't bother to try and settle the struggling form.

Instead she waved on Greta and Shandra to strike at will, sending in 3 more
strokes into each bag in quick order.

	Unable to think, Blackie simply felt and reacted instinctively going so far as
to try to kick away her assailants with her legs. This just resulted in some
quick stokes across her thighs that didn't count.

	Their punishment continued with Marla breaking up each whipping into ten parts
and carefully setting up each part to squeeze out the biggest reaction from the
two slaves. Their arm pits where caned next, followed by sessions concentrating
on single parts of their legs like the fronts of their thighs, then the backs,
followed by their flanks and calves.

Their backs received more attention and then finally they ended with a double
session across their ass cheeks leaving posteriors grossly bloody and swollen.
Towards the end both Blondie and Blackie moved very little.

They had nothing left.

	The initial plan had been to secure the beaten bodies of the twins over a pair
of wooden horses so that their orifices could be used by the guests as they saw
fit but Marla had never witnessed live what a hundred strokes of a heavy cane
can do to the bodies of underweight girls. It was quite clear that this idea
would have to be discarded since they would be unable to be responsive to any
further abuse leaving a distinctly bad taste in the mouths of anyone that tried
to use them. On the other hand the prognosis for nearly full physical recovery
was quite good if attended to promptly by a surgeon that had experience with
similar injuries such as Steve. For him being pulled away from the night's
festivities in order to take needle and thread to these still conscious lovelies
was hardly something that he had to be strong armed to do. Not only would he
enjoy the work but he knew Garret would pay handsomely for the expert care.

	The twins did manage one more show of emotion before being wrapped in blankets
and carried out of the Playroom. It was when the ropes binding their tortured
udders were cut suddenly sending back in a rush of blood and sensation. Fresh
tears appeared from dried out tear ducts and pathetic moans forced their way
past their lips. Steve was in for a long night.

	Blondie needed knee surgery and multitudes of stitches to close open wounds.
When they were told that it was a part of their punishment and they would
receive no anesthetic both went into shock. The reassembly of the torn nipples
was the worst partly because of the natural tenderness of the area and partly
because the doctor took particular time and care reassembling these jewels.
Blondie was anesthetized for the knee surgery. It would have been too much
additional stress for her and endangered her life, at least that was what Steve
thought.

	The wounds in their crotch were repaired with less care since appearance in
this area was more important than perfect function. It mattered little if they
could ever again frig themselves to climax because their clits no longer had
normal feeling. Repairs went more quickly. Part of the treatment was that each
slave also had her clit hood trimmed off and then cauterized. This was to leave
their clits completely exposed to the whip. It took the better part of 24 hours
for Steve to finish up with the two slaves but his work was meticulous, and even
the stitches could barely be seen when he was through.

	It was now finally time for Pooch to assume her rightful place at center stage.
Her owner went to fetch her away from the wall from which her hands had not
strayed since being instructed to remain there. On a leash she walked behind her
mistress, eyes cast down, wearing only shoes, stockings and garter belt.

	Marla led Pooch to the spot light like a dog keeping the leash tight.

	"Stand at attention like your previous owner taught you," Marla
snapped.

Pooch's Story
Part 13a Pooch’s Punishment

(up high) In the spotlight stood Pooch. A tallish very
lean woman with a rack that would put Dolly to shame. They were obviously too
hard to be natural drooping very little for their size, their skin still
tight and Pooch’s shoulders still not permanently pulled forward. The breasts
created an illusion of youth. Her face was so swollen from constant crying
that it just didn’t convey much information about its age. The great orbs had
been injected with hundreds of strokes of the needle with bees' venom and
other irritating agents causing the great swelling and constant itch from
deep inside the breasts. Her womb had received the same injections with a
thicker needle swelling the opening shut and closing of her menstrual flow.
Her last meal had been her own diarrhea which in turn had been her owners
morning bowel movement, washed down with her owners morning pee. She was
already acting as Marla’s commode and would soon play the part of the toilet
paper, for the whole house as well. Four days ago her feet had been caned and
had swollen so much she couldn’t walk. Now they were holding her weight while
encased in tight, spike heeled shoes. The places that the plastic canes had
scraped the make up off her skin was mainly red or very dark purple. She had
endured a great deal in a very short time but rather then slow down Marla
quickened the pace. “Ladies and gentlemen.”

 Marla spoke clearly and
carefully. “Standing here beside me is a slave with the name of ‘Pooch.’
Curious name that. What kind of image goes through your mind when you hear
the word Pooch? ... It’s obvious; the image is clearly one of a dog.... Well,
this dog has been bad and now you will all see how she is going to be
punished for it...”

 “Well dog,”

 Marla stared at Pooch’s neck. “Today isn’t
your day. Today you are going to learn, and learn very well, that the body
that I stand in front of is my property. I can do to it whatever I want. From
what I’ve seen of you, dog, you are still a long way from complete surrender
to me and I will have nothing less from you.”

 Pooch couldn’t stop trembling.
The naked 40-year-old woman stood there just shaking and jiggling. The work
of the cosmetologists had been undone by countless blows of the plastic
shower bar covers about her head, front and back. Where just an hour ago
Pooch had at least felt pretty, that was already been taken away from her,
completely away. The intention had been to tease Pooch into thinking she
could still be pretty and then snatch it away to remind her all the more just
how abhorrent she really was. “Look at you. Someone, who looked just like you
must, have inspired the expression 'You look like shit,'. No wonder Blondie
and Blackie got assigned new duties tonight. Who would ever feel comfortable
in their hands after seeing you.”

 Marla wasn’t being the least bit light
hearted with her comment. “Tonight you are going to learn that every part of
what was in the past your body, is now my property. That ownership is
complete and absolute and the only way you can come out the least bit ahead
is if you accept that principle. Only when you realize that there is nothing
that you can do to alter your situation, can you ever conquer your constant
fear of what is going to happen to you next. The constant, gnawing fear of
what would be happening to you next will completely ruin your enjoyment of
your time between torture sessions. Only when you accept that you are
completely controlled by your Mistress and have no power to change your fate,
can you convince yourself that fear is a wasted emotion. It can’t change your
future and will only destroy your present.”

 “Pain is not as bad when it
doesn’t belong to you. When you are a real slave you realize that what used
to be your body is now owned by someone else and does not belong to you, and
so neither does the pain. I intend to break your will. That is what
punishment sessions are for. If you yourself strive for the complete
surrender that I expect, then things will go easier for you. If you fight
this, things will go much harder, though in the end the result will be the
same. You can’t win.”

 “Just look at you. Shaking like a leaf. Nothing speaks
louder to your state of mind then your body. I see that you are terrified and
I guess at this stage I would be scared shitless too if I was in your
position. You have good reason for fear because you have experienced some of
the results that come from my beliefs about punishment.”

 Marla maintained her
serious tone but increased her volume by about 10 decibels. “Tell everybody
just exactly what you are, Pooch!”

 Pooch knew that every word Marla said was
true. Standing in front of the world and her live audience Pooch felt the
deepest humiliation that she had ever felt in her life. With eyes looking
straight down at the floor she could see how her body quivered. She watched
her swelled breasts shake like jelly. Her thighs looked floppy too. The
thought that she had to tell everyone what she was cramped her stomach. How
could she ever say in public what she knew with certainty she would say?
“Pooch is your slave Mistress.”

 As soon as she had said those words Pooch
knew she had made a big mistake. “My slave, you say. Tell everyone what
common item, an item that is found in virtually every home in the country,
has been removed from this house.”

 “All the toilet paper was removed from the
house Mistress.”

 Pooch watched herself change color from head to toe. “Why
was that?”

 “It was because Pooch would make her tongue replace all the toilet
paper. “ “When I come for breakfast, where do I sit?”

 Pooch couldn’t believe
even Marla would put her through this ordeal. “You sit on the Throne,
Mistress”

 “What is the Throne?”

 “It’s a special seat with a hole cut out of
the bottom so that anyone sitting in it can have their bottoms taken c-c-care
of.”

 Pooch’s voice was beginning to break. It felt hard to breathe especially
in the heat of the spotlights. “Tell the people what I do when I sit in the
chair.”

 “You g-g-go to the t-toilet in Pooch’s mouth, Mistress.”

 “I see. So
because you have replaced all the toilet paper in the house with your tongue
and I have made you my own private shitter and bidet, you say you are a
slave??”

 Marla did not sound amused. “What does it say on the collar, you
shithead!”

 “It says ‘toilet slave,’ Mistress.”

 The slave burst into tears.
How could she have been so stupid over trying to keep just a little bit of
her dignity? Instead she had fallen into a trap like a stupid animal. “But
you didn’t say ‘toilet slave,’ you just said slave. I wonder why that was? Do
you really enjoy being humiliated in public so much that you want more?”


Marla walked over to stand in front of Pooch and ran her gloved hand through
her terrified slave’s crotch. It came up glistening. It wasn’t that Pooch was
wet but a few droplets of urine had squeezed their way past the makeshift
plug jammed into her urethra. Marla made a mental note to remove the plug so
as to keep her property’s kidneys in working order. Right now she merely
lifted her wet fingers for all to see. “You are wet you whore. It must be the
thought that later on you’ll be doing everyone that came around. I suggest
you save your energy, and your slime, for that time.”

 The audience laughed.
“Now once again, what are you?”

 “Pooch is a toilet slave, Mistress.”


“Louder!!”

 “Pooch IS A TOILET SLAVE... Mistress!!”

 “You can see where I was
confused, can’t you?”

 Marla tormented her chattel. “On the one hand I know
what you do and I can read your collar.”

 (Cameras zoom to read Pooch’s
collar) “On the other hand when I ask you to tell everyone what you are you
just say, slave. It’s not nice to try and confuse your Mistress. Perhaps I
should add that to the list of commandments.”

 “Since your mouth continually
gets you into trouble I will start your reform by taking control of it.”


“Stick out your tongue.”

 Marla issued the order tersely. Immediately Pooch
opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue. Marla stepped out of line of
Pooch’s sight only to return with a pair of locking pliers, the kind used to
grip sheet metal with long, broad, plates welded to the jaws of the pliers.
The sight of the tool made Pooch wish she could pass out. Without a second of
hesitation the tool latched on the tip of the tongue squeezing it completely
flat with a thunderbolt of pain. Pooch screamed out in pain but words were
impossible. Marla released the tool from her hand letting the weight of the
heavy tool pull on the slave’s throbbing tongue. It was locked on. Marla
disappeared again this time returning with the largest piercing needle Pooch
had ever seen and a pair of what looked like 3 foot chain cutters that had a
partially open ring sitting in a holder at the end of the tool. “This should
cure your speech problem.”

 Pooch was too terrified to consider breaking from
her position of standing with her fingers laced behind her head and her legs
spread wide. Her face shone from the wet of all her tears. It nicely matched
her piss-dribbling hairless cunt area. Marla picked up the dangling handle of
the vise grips and pulled Pooch’s tongue out about as far as it would go
without tearing. The executioner picked up the three foot long ring
applicator while Marla pushed the fat needle through the centerline of the
screaming slave’s tongue a half inch ahead of the jaws of the locking pliers.
With a steady thrust the needle pushed its way right through the tongue and
as Marla now pulled out the needle from the bottom of the tongue, her
assistant guided one of the ends of the open ring right behind the stem of
the piercing needle. He squeezed the ring shut with the special pliers,
locking it permanently into position. Marla stepped back and admired her
handiwork. No sane person would ever volunteer to have a ring that size
inserted through their tongue. It would make chewing almost impossible and
talking difficult. Just closing her mouth would require some forethought. For
the first time in a while Marla smiled. “I think that should bring another
area of that body under my control.”

 The executioner handed Marla a dog
leash, which she snapped on Pooch’s tongue ring and gave it a tug. Pooch’s
head snapped up. “I want that ring outside of the mouth whenever it’s
attached to a leash. I don’t want those teeth being knocked out if someone
gives the leash a tug.”

 The feeling of being so powerful and dominant was the
greatest aphrodisiac Marla had ever had. Pooch hadn’t yet felt any real
sexual arousal since being given to Marla. Mostly she’d just felt continuous
fear as to what would be done to her next. It had been clear to Pooch, that
she would be in for a world of hurt and there was nothing she could do about
it. All the begging and pleading, and finally her best efforts at pleasing
her mistress, would not get her off the hook. Marla gave the leash a quick
tug, sending Pooch lurching forward accompanied by a vicious pain to her
impaled tongue. Dutifully she followed her mistress’s lead as she was paraded
around the playroom giving all present a good look at how effective this new
method of control was. Tears streamed from the trailing dogs’ eyes, eyes that
stayed downcast onto her Mistress’s feet. She had no will or desire to look
around at the hostile surroundings. All that she wanted was to keep the
throbbing of her tongue to an absolute minimum. Sucking cold air over its
surface gave it some relief. Marla led her slave back to a one of the
remaining familiar spots in the playroom. It was the bar over which she had
been bent to receive her last punishment from Ed. The punishment that had
never been completed. “I think you’re quite familiar with this setup,”

 Marla
stated matter of fact. “And you can even keep your legs together for a
while.”

 “Now I do want to put that punishment behind us but if you could only
handle 15 of the assigned 40 strokes you won’t be able to take the 25 that
are left. So I have come up with a whip that will cause your back far less
real damage and yet hurt even more.”

 As Marla was talking the executioner
busied himself fastening Pooch’s wrists to the waist level ring in the wall
and her ankles to the floor, forcing the slave to bend over the bar, back
exposed and parallel to the floor. Marla had made a small improvement in the
apparatus by applying a very special adhesive tape to the short bar that
pushed into her naked hips. The outside surface of the tape was covered with
short but sharp plastic studs that dug into the skin over her hips and belly.
This improvement was certainly noticed by Pooch as in some spots her skin was
punctured and a few streaks of blood ran down the fronts of her legs. The
tiny spikes were too short to cause anything but superficial wounds but quite
long enough to cause intense discomfort. The slave began to sweat profusely
from the intense stress and discomfort of her enforced position. “A special
whip has been made just for this occasion.”

 In her hand Marla held a three
foot braided leather whip that was not particularly heavy or menacing in
appearance. The unique feature was that braided right into the whip were the
leaves of the stinging nettle. Each strand was literally wrapped with the
irritating plant material. “You will feel as though your back is being cut to
ribbons by a whip as hot as fire but the actual damage to your back will be
minor. The searing pain will mostly be from the thousands of tiny, glass-like
stingers that break off in your skin. Your back will stay super sensitized
for weeks. A puff of air will make you wince and a touch will make you cry.”


Marla gave the executioner a scowl. “Chain her tongue too. That’s what the
damn ring’s for. It’s the extra insurance that this pathetic toilet slave
will stay on her best behavior and not move around too much. This whipping
will be like one she’s never felt before and I want her to stay completely
still and not be distracted from the pain. This little lesson will teach her
the importance of absolute self control”

 Pooch was already exhausted from
four days with almost no sleep and just couldn’t support herself in the
tiring position for very long. Her arms, shoulders and lower back became
increasingly strained. She had begun to cramp, muscles sending signals of
blinding pain up to her slave brain. Between the pains of being bound in that
position and mental lethargy caused by her fatigue, Pooch had not heard any
of Marla’s words. These new pains almost robed the old ones of their fury,
but not quite. Her heavy bags swayed with every breath and still throbbed
from the burns of the darning needles and the multiple stabbing by dull
syringes filled with bee’s venom and other irritating agents. Her feet were
swollen and a long way from being able to bear her weight without rebellion.
The only way she could get any relief from the increasing irritation of the
plastic spikes was to get high on her toes. Her feet just didn’t want to
cooperate. Marla had ideas about this little session that the average master
might not consider. She was going to turn it into an educational opportunity
and learn from it as much as she could. Today she would examine how
wide-awake an exhausted slave would become under the whip and would the slave
feel more intensely after being given stimulants. This would be knowledge
that could be put away for use in making decisions, about punishment, in the
future. Most importantly for Pooch, it would determine if she would be kept
bone tired or get adequate rest. She would first give her 12 strokes without
any attempts to get the slave ready for her whipping. After judging her
reaction to the whip Pooch would then be given an injection of strong
stimulants and whipped with a fresh whip so the comparison would be fair. The
man that had sold it to Marla said it was good for less than a dozen strokes
but that the dozen would be ones that the recipient would long remember. That
was why she had bought two. “I think this little mater down in your pee hole
had better be attended to before you burst. Would you get me the small pair
of needle nose pliers,”

 Marla asked her assistant executioner. “This might
hurt a bit but I expect nothing like what’s coming up, and you better not pee
till I say you can. Now spread your knees apart as much as you can so I can
get in there”

 Fearing irritating her owner Pooch did her best to get her
knees parted causing the small spikes of the cross bar to dig more deeply
into her skin. She felt the cold steel jaws enter her urethra open up and
grab the end of the Q Tip around which the elastic had been wrapped. Marla
pulled it out slowly as Pooch squirmed in great discomfort. She could feel
the urine that had been plugged up following right behind the plug. With all
the damage done there was little she could do to stop it. When the plug
emerged so did a heavy stream of urine flowing down her hose over her shoes
and then pooling on the floor around her feet so that she was standing in a
puddle.  Eventually, with great effort she was able to slow the flow down to
a slow dribble. It was all she could do much to the audiences' delight. “I
will deal with this later,”

 was Marla’s cold response. Her public humiliation
had removed the last vestiges of thoughts of escape. She had wished that by
some miracle a white knight would rescue her. A knight, that would see that
she had taken more then anybody should ever be forced to take and that,
enough was enough. He would step out from the crowd and carry her away.
Instead, Pooch had just proclaimed to the world that she was the lowest form
of slave that could exist and the audience loved it. They laughed out loud at
her when she pissed herself and made the crudest remarks. Some had yelled
that she should be punished for her slowness in proclaiming herself a toilet
slave and that she lacked enthusiasm. All hope of rescue ended when Pooch
screamed out that she was a toilet slave and nothing positive at all
happened. There was a short whistle followed by a loud slap as the stinging
nettle whip landed across Pooch’s shoulder blades and instantly even the pain
in her bladder and urethra disappeared. All there was the sensation that an
entire band of skin, across her back, had just been ripped off. The jolt
completely cleared the cobwebs from her addled brain. The Pooch was as
wide-awake as she had ever been. She even realized that she had let go a
powerful stream of urine. The taunting jeers only confirmed this. Reflexively
Pooch emitted a grunt and jerked her body in response to the sting of the
whip. Her tongue stretched so tight she thought it had torn but the chains
pulling tight on her wrists kept her ability to move restricted enough to
keep her from ripping it out. From experience she knew that the force of the
blow was not as hard as she had often received from Ed but the pain was once
again, like nothing she had felt before. The sting and burn wasn’t confined
to the end of the tail but was spread like a molten river across the width of
her back. A thousand needles danced along that line sending a continuous
cascade of distress signals to her consciousness. Tears welled up in her eyes
again but she managed to hold the noise to a loud grunt. This was stroke 1.
Stroke 2 followed across the small of her back well away from the first line.
It was Marla’s plan to involve her entire back as early as possible. She
didn’t know how long there would be fresh little stingers on the leaves of
the nettles so Marla would take no chance that a portion of her slave’s
strong back would escape their torture. Within seconds both lines swelled up
unlike any welts that Mistress Marla had seen before and they were a bright
red color, not a bruised red but an inflamed red. She wondered how they felt
to her still untrained toilet. The imagined agony of Pooch began a flow from
her pussy that would ease off very little that evening. Marla turned the whip
handle slightly in her hand so that fresh leaves would drive against the
slave’s skin on the next blow. This one fell right in the middle of the back
between the first two. The crack was a bit louder and showed proof of the
extra velocity by causing a small break in the skin near the tip. A small
trickle of blood ran down the left side of Pooch’s rib cage. The stroke also
elicited a scream By the third stroke Pooch’s breathing had grown erratic,
alternating between no breathing at all followed by hyperventilation. Her
eyes bugged out of their sockets as she constantly rolled them, trying to
find some distraction from the needle fire engulfing her back. The thought of
another 21 to go was too much to consider. The ‘big boy’ felt nothing like
this new weapon. Absolutely powerless to mitigate her plight all she could do
was take her medicine and hope that the night would somehow come to an end.
By now Marla had gotten her range and the whip bit harder and harder into the
red and bloodied back. The screams got progressively louder with each stroke
until Pooch’s throat seemed to give out.  By the time the twelfth blow had
landed many other little trails of crimson fluid had joined the first. Little
droplets fell to the dirty, piss-soaked floor from all along the slave’s left
side. Marla tossed the used up whip to the floor. The leaves that had wrapped
each strand of leather were now all torn up leaving just a fine brown
latticework with little of the green still intact. Leaving the glare of the
spotlights, for a moment Marla went of to one of the cupboards and returned
with a syringe in her hand. It was filled with amphetamines and would ensure
that despite her fatigue Pooch would remain at a high level of alertness and
peak sensitivity. Returning, Marla wasted no time jabbing the needle into
Pooch’s right armpit and emptying the contents of the syringe. Pooch felt a
rush of new energy. Her heart seemed to pound harder then it had. Her senses
also seemed to become more acute including her sense of pain. As she waited
for Marla to begin the second half of the whipping Pooch began to notice
sensations in her belly other than the decreasing pain in her bladder.
Something was wrong deeper inside. The effects of the injections into her
cervix were beginning to be felt. Menstrual fluids were building up in her
womb with no way to get out. For now this was not bad enough to warrant a lot
of her attention but bit by bit the discomfort was increasing. Her mind had
stopped thinking anything intelligible. All Pooch knew was that she hurt was
going to hurt more and had to move. There is almost no worse a torture than
filling someone in a straight jacket with stimulants. Pooch’s straight jacket
held her immobile with all the strength of hardened steel. Not only that but
the straight jacket that she was in was not only a passive restraint but was
actively forcing her torso to endure the worst whipping of her life. Pooch
had to move and the urge grew stronger as Pooch began to test the resistance
of the chains. She pulled so hard the iron manacles began to dig into the
tops of her hands and feet. She had to move. For want of anything else to do
she forced out another stream of urine. The splatter of pee on the floor
sounded very loud to her hypersensitive hearing. She her urinary muscles
continued to spasm, even though she was now completely void. Thought of the
punishment she was even now calling upon herself did not diminish her urge to
move. Pooch knew that there were another 12 strokes to come if she didn’t
escape. Her inability to move, even the very least, began to work up into
panic levels. Pooch knew she had to escape, and just as certainly realized
that she couldn’t, but... it didn’t mater. She had no plan; she had no idea
of what she was doing. All she could think of was getting away. She had to
get away. She would pay any price to get away. It was driving her crazy.
“Your lack of control is disgusting. Do not for a moment think it will go
unpunished. But that can wait.”

 The first cut to her right side was far
deeper than the one to her left side had been. Marla had by now established
her best stroke and was cracking the whip with every blow. Where it had taken
4 strokes to draw blood from her left side, her right side was cut all 12
times. Seeing the pattern of stripes and the trickles of vital fluids
increased Marla’s own vaginal secretions. It was turning the inside of her
leather pants sticky and musky. For Marla the night was beginning to go from
just hot to sticky hot. She looked down on the back that she had just
punished. Set in front of her, immobile, completely powerless to avoid
anything its real owner wanted to inflict on it, it now fairly radiated pain.
As she looked at the ravaged back laid out before her, criss-crossed with
bright red welts, she tried to imagine what it felt like. The more she
imagined that it hurt the more Marla became aroused. The thought that she
could do whatever she wished to it and that it would only try harder to
please her was her aphrodisiac. The temptation to find release right there
and then grew stronger and it was just her strong will that stopped her from
doing just that. Her intellect told her to hold off and let the excitement
build, that the longer she waited the more she would enjoy the moment. She
hoped that the audience would also feel the tension. Pooch had stopped her
pattern of grunts and moans and settled into straight sobbing. Her eyes wept,
her nose dripped and her mouth drooled. With her mouth held open and tongue
pulled out to the ripping point the toilet slave had no control over her own
saliva. Any coherent thought that she had centered on what she began to fear
was her imminent demise. It wasn’t as terrifying as it had been. She wished
for everything to go black. But it just didn’t happen. Marla disconnected the
chain from Pooch’s new tongue ring and let it drop. The chain swung back
striking the wall with a clinking thud. Next went the chains to her wrists.
They swung back to the wall too making a still louder clang. Pooch slumped
over the rail driving more sharp spikes through her skin but she still felt
precious release. For a moment she had thought she died and went to heaven
but not for long.

Pooch's Story
Part 13b Pooch's Punishment

Marla stood in front of her slave then bent down to pick her up by a fist
full of hair. “Now I’m going to punish you for trying to break your agreement
with Ed. I sure hope you didn’t think I would forget that. I’ve thought long
and hard about what I would do to you for that most despicable of crimes.
You’re about to find out.”

 She continued to pull Pooch to her feet by her
hair and soon the spikes across the top of her nether hills pulled out from
her flesh sending tiny red rivers flowing down and into the crack of her bald
cunt. “Stand on your feet,”

 the bitch queen barked. Marla thought that
Pooch’s attempt to get out from under her ownership after her agreement with
Ed was particularly insulting and to a large extent was what had brought out
her worst qualities. Maybe, Marla thought, if she did a particularly good job
in punishing this inexcusable action, she would find it easier to be
sympathetic to her slave’s plight. “Your back should stay inflamed for weeks
but still be perfectly able to work. Of course any strokes of the whip that
you earn will be particularly memorable after they plow across your back. Now
let me see what I can do for your front”

 Marla picked up one of Pooch’s
swollen breasts feeling and weighing it in her hand as Pooch struggled to
keep her balance while standing at attention. Marla ran her black gloved hand
down Pooch’s belly and in between her legs. With her ankles still fastened
together Pooch did her best not to impede her Mistress’s access. Marla pushed
her thumb into the captive’s cunt as she reached for the ass hole with her
index finger. She squeezed them together trying to get a feel for the
condition of the underlying structure. Marla withdrew her fingers and wiped
them off in her slave’s hair. “Relax cunt, I’m not going to be punishing you
down here till a bit later tonight.”

 Marla lit up a cigarette. Pooch saw that
there was no point in trying to stop her crying. “First there are those
beautifully developing hooters to attend to. The injections have made them
look so ripe that they seem about ready to just pop like a couple of
balloons. I wonder if this cigarette would make them blow up just like
balloons?”

 Pooch watched in terror as Marla brought the cigarette straight up
to the bottom of her left tit then clamped her eyes shut just before the
glowing end charred her skin. Pooch jerked backward instinctively twisting
her body out of the way of the burning tip. There was no question that this
was the wrong thing to do but she couldn’t help herself, it had hurt so much.
Marla hadn’t hurried to pull cigarette away letting it sit there till it
extinguished itself in the flesh; she just let her hand follow the moving
breast around as Pooch tried to move away. The slave knew that moving away
would get her into even more fire but the burning cigarette had hurt so much
that she couldn’t keep her body from reacting. She managed to keep her hands
behind her neck from her fear of her new Mistress, knowing that to lower them
to try and protect herself would probably lead to retribution so terrible
that she would want to die. It was this fear that kept her going. Despite
everything that she had been through, Pooch knew that her body was still
essentially intact and given a chance it would recover. She still had hope
that she could find something in her life that would keep her going and make
all the pain worthwhile. Maybe she would learn to block out the pain. The
gurgling coming from deep in her throat made it seem that it wasn’t likely
that Pooch was making progress in terms of blocking out the pain. “When you
tried to beg Ed for your freedom only to get away from me, at any cost, you
sealed your doom. It showed us both that you loved yourself more than your
Master and what a worthless piece of trash you were. You tried to go back on
your bargain and now you are going to pay for it. And you know what the
ironic part is? I’m going to keep you the freest that you will be tonight...
I’m not even going to restrain you anywhere above the belt. Only your ankles
will stay chained to the floor. You could even use your hands to strike at me
or push me away as I torture your big, fat breasts. They must be quite sore
from all the swelling and the needles and each still feeling the burn from
the darning needles. Well soon you will forget all about those pains.”

 Marla
smiled to herself. She knew what she was going to lay out for her slave and
she was just in the mood to even embellish what she was about to describe
just to see if she could coax a reaction. In some ways there was nothing
worse then knowing your future, or at least a part of it. Knowing what was
going to happen to her would increase Pooch’s anxiety level even higher.
Marla wouldn’t give her any knowledge that could comfort her such as when the
torture would stop. “You’ve just shown everyone that despite all of the
warnings I’ve given you about trying to escape from me, you were still trying
to evade that tiny little pain of the cigarette. Maybe through punishment you
will learn better control and gain the knowledge that trying to escape is
just too painful. You’ll learn that it isn’t good even to think about.”

 “For
most of the time I will keep you well secured but now it’s time for you to
show me that you can learn self control. I’m not going to stop hurting your
tits until you show me that you will stand still and let me do whatever I
want without so much as squirming, or, until you try to push me or hit me
with your arms. Then I’ll tie you up and get really rough. You’ll have to
show me that you’re sincere about accepting whatever I decide to give you
before I’ll stop so don’t expect that as soon as you stay still things will
get better because they won’t.”

 Marla then hauled of and delivered a loud
slap across Pooch’s face, sending another wave of humiliation coursing
through her shaking body. There was something about being slapped that was
intensely demeaning far beyond what was now a fairly small physical pain.
This was especially true done in front of an audience of fascinated
spectators. This sent more tears rolling from her red eyes. The fresh burn on
the bottom of her tit hurt terribly partly because the cigarette hadn’t
stayed in one spot and didn’t burn too deep resulting in a second-degree burn
with still very lively nerve endings. The thought that this was a tiny pain
was rather unsettling to say the least. She also thought this was the way
that Jasmine’s torture had started. “The good doctor to the slaves has given
me some pointers on how to play with fire without ruining your appearance
much and causing the most pain. You’ll be glad to hear that the two go
together since severe burns will destroy the nerve endings and reduce the
pain while causing heavy scarring. I’ve been told that any scars that result
from this we will be able to clean up and make practically invisible, just as
long as I’m careful and don’t get carried away, so I’ll be careful.”

 Marla
lit a fresh cigarette. “Let’s see if you can hold still a bit better now that
you know the situation.”

 Grabbing Pooch’s nipple between her thumb and the
knuckle of her forefinger, Marla picked up the right breast pulling it up and
out. Taking a deep puff to light up the end of her little torture stick she
brought it near the slave’s breast bone just at the juncture where the tit
attached to the chest and ran the tip down and around this borderline
rotating the cigarette between her fingers as she created a fiery incision.
Pooch had tried her best to steel herself for the pain and stay still but she
just couldn’t do it. This time too she tried to twist her body away only this
time Marla retained the firm, pinching grasp on the nipple stretching out the
swollen gland and pulling on the freshly burned skin. Fresh screams ensued.
Her near naked body now dripped with sweat. This time the cigarette did not
go out before Marla took a fresh drag and began touching the tip, just for a
fraction of a second all over the tit. Touch... burn... scream... touch...
burn... scream, fresh drag, repeat. All the while Marla kept the nipple
pinched between her fingers as Pooch tried to squirm away from the unbearable
pain. Pooch was frantic, teetering on the brink of striking out at her
Mistress and only fear of worse keeping her from doing so. Her mind managed
to stay coherent enough to tell that there was no escape as long as her legs
remained chained to the ground. As the cigarette continued to inflict intense
pain to her breast another thing gelled in her muddled mind. Any uncertainty
that she had regarding her ownership had disappeared. Ed became a faint image
from the past in a present that allowed no opportunity to think of the past.
There was only the moment or anticipation of what would come. Marla was her
owner and there would be nobody that would contest it. No white knight was
going to ride up on a white horse to rescue her. The only thing that any
knight would do is use her, fuck her probably have the horse fuck her too
before he was through. “You did better then I thought,”

 Marla addressed Pooch
in an only slightly condescending manner. “I had you figured to try and push
me away but you’re smarter than I thought. Still you’re a long way away from
being well trained, so I’ll continue on your left bag.”

 With those words
Marla grabbed the breast on which she had just inflicted a multitude of
burns, with her gloved hand and twisted it to the left causing Pooch to drop
to her knees as it felt like the flesh had all erupted in flame. The only
sound coming from her throat was a rush of air. “That’s a taste of what I’m
going to be doing next. You will have to do much better. Now stand up”

 As she
rose again in obedience to her mistress Pooch didn’t know how she would ever
pass this impossible test. She saw what was happening to her burned right
tit. Much of it was blistered and Marla’s attack on it, with her gloved hand,
had broken some of the blisters. They oozed clear liquid. She had never
thought her body would ever be abused in this way. She wondered where it
would stop. Naturally this wasn’t casual wondering but just a brief flash of
thought as her senses were overwhelming her with pains from every segment of
her body. Her back felt like it was on fire thanks to the nettles, her womb
was becoming increasingly distressed and starting to cramp. The new terror of
presenting her left breast to Marla so she could give it the same treatment
as her right was simply too much. As she began to stand, still obedient to
her Mistress, her anus opened wide, fetid diarrhea burst from her ass,
covering her legs and the floor below in a runny mess. The live audience
burst out in laughter at the sight. Out of desperation for some small mercy
Pooch began to beg her owner for mercy. “Pooch is sorry Mistress she just
lost control of her body,”

 she cried out. “Please Pooch didn’t mean anything
by it, she’ll clean it up, please let Pooch clean it up, please Mistress.
Pooch is yours, your property.	Pooch promises she’ll live only to obey you.
She’s yours completely, body and soul. Mistress Pooch is so ashamed that her
body betrayed her.”

 Marla looked at Pooch but not in the way Pooch had
feared. She didn’t show anger or even mocking. Instead she took the time to
talk to and console her slave. This, in fact, was the moment that Marla had
been waiting for. It was the moment that she recognized in her slave’s voice
and demeanor that she had really surrendered herself to her Mistress and was
broken. “Shhhh,”

 Marla quieted her slave. “I think that mess has already made
one too many cycles through that gut of yours. You can just clean yourself up
in the shower a bit later. I’ll probably make you pay some sort of price for
it but don’t worry your little head over it right now. I think you really
meant what you just said to me just now and though in future I expect you to
keep your mouth shut unless spoken to, rule 11 you know, I’ll overlook it
this time if you hold still while I burn your other bag. Do you think you can
do that?”

 The unexpected compassion from Marla caused a similarly unexpected
change in Pooch’s own feelings. Where she had expected a brutal attack she
received a touch of kindness. Maybe she just could hold still and show her
Mistress that she was not totally worthless. Maybe she could obey; Pooch was
ready to give it her total effort. After all it wasn’t her tits that Marla
was burning, they were Marla’s property, to do with as she pleased. “Yes
Mistress, Pooch thinks she can stay still.”

 Pooch didn’t know why she told
her owner that she could stay still as her left breast was burned; she was
filled with doubt. Now it was different, she had actually taken on the
obligation herself and she just had to make good on her promise. She again
straightened herself up somehow feeling that she was standing a little taller
then a few minutes ago. Marla placed a fresh cigarette in Pooch’s mouth and
brought up her gold lighter, striking a flame as it neared the end of the
little white torture stick. Pooch drew in setting the tip aglow in bright
orange light. “Go ahead and inhale, there’s plenty more when I need them.”


Not normally a smoker the jolt of nicotine made the slave light headed almost
immediately distracting her a little from her fear and the serious,
unrelenting pain she was now feeling. Some smoke wafted into her eyes
stinging them a little and inducing more tears. “Get ready.”

 Marla removed
the fire from between Pooch’s lips and brought it down right on top of the
unburned breast. Pooch shuddered and let out a gasp but she did not move.
Instead she directed her mind to her right sac which still hurt almost as
much as it had while it was being seared. This distracted her mind away from
the new pain. It was far from total distraction but enough keep her reflexes
in control. Marla repeated the entire routine that she had performed on the
right side, showing no mercy. This was not going to be a phony test with the
administrator cheating on behalf of the pupil. Pooch would have to prove her
worth, but just as any proud teacher would, Marla was rooting for her pupil
to succeed. When Marla dropped the cigarette and grabbed both tits in her
hands simultaneously squeezing and twisting them, Pooch let out her loudest
scream yet. Her knees weakened and began to buckle but somehow they did not
fail. “Well, well, seems like you have a little spine after all,”

 Marla
commented as coldly as her secretly thrilled heart would allow. “Lower the
hook.”

 The executioner walked over to a nearby wall and began turning a small
hand winch. This lowered a chain from the ceiling with a clasp hook on the
end, so that it stopped just above the slave's head. “Arms up over your head.
You may have shown me that there is some faint hope for you as my slave yet
but you certainly haven’t finished paying for your attempted escape. You will
now be free to make all the noise you like including begging for mercy, I
think these people may enjoy that, but I doubt it will get you any.”

 Marla
fastened the hook to Pooch’s wrist cuffs and then motioned that it be raised.
“I want her good and tight so that she can’t evade my little whip. Those milk
sacs of hers are just about ready for a good taste of the lash. First though
we’ll just rub on a little of this special grease.”

 The executioner hauled up
the beaten woman not only till her feet had cleared the floor but to the
point where he could barely turn the handle any longer and Pooch was
stretched like a bow string. Marla then scooped up a handful of the hot
pepper preparation with her gloved hand and began smearing both the swollen
orbs with it. Pooch went into hysterics with this new assault. Exposed nerve
endings were immediately assaulted by the hot peppers not only making her
breasts feel as though they were on fire but also the muscles in her chest
right up to her neck. It seems that in open wounds the effects of these hot
peppers can travel all along the nerves and right up to the head creating the
illusion of fire along the entire path. The effect can last for hours. Just
as Marla had predicted, Pooch began to beg for relief about as pitifully as
you would think humanly possible. “Please, please no more!!,”

 she wailed
hoping beyond hope that Marla would listen. “Aughhhhhh, I can’t stand it,
mercy, please mercy. Aughhhhhhh!!!!”

 “Mercy? You scheming, filthy cunt, how
dare you ask for mercy? You should have thought about the consequences when
you tried to weasel out of your agreement. I’m only preparing you now. Just
wait till I begin whipping those oversized udders of yours. You just can’t
seem to get it through your head that no matter how bad you think you hurt I
can make it worse.”

 She instructed Ed to be ready with the smelling salts and
cold water and then picked up a new whip straight out of a bucket of brine.
It was the British Navy cat o’ nine tails. One just like Captain Bligh might
have used on any unruly sailors on the Bounty. In the hands of a powerful
whipmaster the knotted cords would have ripped the skin of off any poor
wretch’s back that was unlucky enough to be at the wrong end of it. In the
hands of Marla the effect would be somewhat less. The knots would leave
horribly deep bruises and the rough fibers would strip away any burnt skin.
With the way she had been prepared the sailor’s agony would pale in
comparison to that of the slave, though he would have been the more badly
damaged. The anguished wails turned to simple, incomprehensible gurgles.
Pooch couldn’t think anymore, only react to the horrible pain. “Just one last
little preparation.”

 Marla produced a short bungee cord with one of those
extremely stiff clamps, used to bundle stacks of paper, on each end. She
could hardly open them up wide enough to snap them shut on the slaves still
un-mutilated areolas. First she clamped one nipple, then passed the elastic
cord behind the slaves neck pulling it taught until she could fasten it to
the opposite nipple. The tension of the cord caused great upward stretching
of the nipples exposing the undersides of the seared sacs to the claws of the
cat. “I don’t intend to miss any spots.”

 While Pooch’s had been strictly
secured by the winch and hook, the effect on Marla was quite the opposite.
She had broken Pooch while she was still usable so now all she had to do was
make her pay dearly for her crimes. “How dare the stupid cunt think she could
run away from me”

, Marla began to fume. “I’ll make sure she doesn’t let it
cross her mind again.”

 Pooch teetered on the edge of insanity; the pain was
so intense. The cruel springs squeezing her nipples were minor irritations in
comparison op the fire that was now consuming her upper body. The smelling
salts were ready to revive her as soon as she passed out. The lawyer’s
henchman would be ready to shove them under her nose at the slightest sign of
the slave loosing consciousness. Nothing else existed in her mind aside from
the wretched pain. Then the heavy, wet, ropes whistled through the air coming
down across Pooch’s raw, burnt, ultra sensitive bag bottoms. The sound of the
collision didn’t convey the effect on the soft breast meat at all. It was
just a dull THUD, loud but not alarming. The knots all landed on the right
bag crushing it against her collarbone and viciously stretching the already
taught bud. Burnt skin was ripped off exposing bleeding tissue and driving
salt and pepper right into freshly exposed nerve endings. Another stream of
pee gushed from between her legs triggering new laughter from the assembly,
The expression on her face went blank as the shock was just too much for her
to handle but quickly the strong salts jolted her back to full consciousness.
They were held there for a good long time. Pooch pulled back her head to
avoid the strongly irritating odor but the vial just followed her nose. Ed
would make sure that she would be alert for as long as Marla wished. The
knots struck a broad area with each stroke wreaking havoc not only with the
mammarys but also striking chest and ribs. After only eight blows most of the
visible chest had gone from red to purple to near black. Numerous spots of
bright red blood stood out against the dark background. Pooch alternated from
violent thrashing, within her narrow limits of movement, and quiet when the
executioner would immediately push the smelling salts under her nose. Marla
stopped the whipping and went to release the nipple clamps. Pooch pissed out
whatever urine had begun accumulating in her bladder. When the battered boobs
dropped down to her chest the audience could see even better the effect of
the cat. They had swollen so much that there was little sag to them left. The
nipples, now also black and blue from the tugging of the stiff clamps,
pointed straight out. Pooch was allowed a minute to regain some of her mental
faculties. “This is the type of treatment you can expect if you ever try to
escape from me again. I would like to think that you would never let it enter
your mind again. Do you think that you will ever try to escape again?”

 “No
Mistress, Pooch is so sorry. She will never try to get away from you again.
Pooch is so sorry Mistress; she is yours as long as you want her Mistress...
Aughhhhh.”

 “That’s good to hear. Unfortunately for you the punishment for
attempted escape isn’t over yet. I would like to make sure that you don’t
forget it. And, I expect you to understand why I’m doing this. It’s because I
seriously never want to have to worry about that sort of thing again.  It
pissed me off, and when I get pissed off because of something you did I’m
going to take it out on your hide. If it does happen again you better know
that I’ll be even more upset ”

 With that pronouncement Marla laid into the
still unscathed tops and bottoms of Pooch’s milk sacs. It started out as a
low whistle, a sort of ‘Whhhhhhhhhh’ and ended with a very brief ‘Oomph’ with
a simultaneous slapping sound. Whhhhhhhhhhumph (slap). One of the knots split
open her left nipple sending out a thick run of dark blood from the bruise
caused by the clamp. It had the effect of knocking the wind from the
desperate slave. Her eyes bugged out, as she didn’t understand what was
happening.  Marla didn’t wait swinging the whip harder, Whhhhhhhhhhumph, and
striking the same spot. She was getting her range. Whhhhhhhhhhumph, again the
left bag only this time Marla swung down right on the top of the swollen, and
now completely discolored organ. “You’re going to love the special brassier I
had made for these things.”

 Pooch heard nothing except,...“Whhhhhhhhhhumph.”


The smelling salts had to revive her only this time it took a little longer.
Pooch tried to hold on to unconsciousness. Her brain knew what was waiting
for her. The effect of the salts was so strong, however, that she came back
around in less then half a minute. She was weakening. After the tenth stroke
it took a minute and a half and her struggles were getting weak. Marla
thought it was humorous. “This is the other way to get you to stay still,”


she commented sarcastically. She found the thought of continuing her beating
on Pooch’s breasts after she stopped struggling to be very exciting. She
would whip her armpits and see if she moved. When the cruel Mistress did
bring the whip around striking her slave’s left armpit she did move although
very little. In fact all the muscles along the left side of her body went
into spasm curving the slaves spine into as much of as ‘C’ as her strict
bondage allowed. Marla would go on to the next phase. It was time to move
lower.

THE END

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