BDSM Library - Kims Tail

Kims Tail

Chapter 2

Rubberwolf

2008

Story codes: f-self, bdsm, pony, reluct, cons.

Kim sat in the rear of the helicopter that the solicitors had arranged for her, trying not to be sick. She had travelled in aeroplanes before, but there was something about the motion of this juddering, loud machine, that her stomach rebelled at. Time stretched endlessly before the pilot reported into her headset that they were approaching the island. They had been flying for about an hour across a featureless ocean.

“When Jim finds an out of the way retreat, he doesn’t do it by half,” Kim mused to herself as she peered through the glass at the grey smudge indicated by the pilot.

After about five minutes Kim began to make out detail until, eventually, she could make out the features. It was a small island, perhaps two miles square. A small beach offered a landing site and Kim could make out a dock, as well as stairs leading up a steep cliff. As the helicopter banked and rose, Kim was able to take in more detail.

The island, as far as she could tell, was covered with woodland and sported a large, colonial style house, several outbuildings around a courtyard, as well as a larger, more modern building towards the back of the house. She could also make out features that made her enforced seclusion seem more bearable. A swimming pool, tennis courts, not that she had time or inclination to invite other people at this stage. However, that would change once she had settled in. A footpath disappeared into the woods and she imagined herself jogging around the island as part of her morning regime.

The helicopter banked nauseatingly before settling at a helipad on the lawns in front of the main house and outbuildings. She stepped out of the helicopter as the rotors wound down and the pilot took her hand, advising her to watch her head, before taking her bags, at the solicitors, who she now knew to be Mr Prentice, instruction as she walked with him to the main house.

Once he had shown her the main features of the house, the remote controls for setting the pool temperature, curtains, lights, television and all the other boy toys which Jim would have insisted on and having established that the radio worked and that the compound had power, he said his farewells before heading back to the helicopter with the pilot.

The first thing that Kim did was to check the kitchen. Sure enough, there were sufficient foods to feed an army, both fresh and the longer lasting, tinned and dried varieties. A person could hide for quite some time here, Kim mused.

Kim checked the radio again and was satisfied to here a response from the girl at Mr Prentices office. Although he would call in once a week to ensure that all was well, it was still comforting to know that she could do so herself.

Having found the spacious and well appointed master bedroom that the pilot had piled her bags in, she set out to explore the house. If she had nothing else to say about Jim Star, he definitely knew how to indulge himself. A spacious gym, with all of the latest equipment, sauna, Jacuzzi, oh yes and of course fully equipped dungeon.

Kim shuddered as a memory burst into her mind as she stepped into Jim’s playroom. They had not been married long and, despite what he had said on the tape, it was her introduction to bondage and the person who Jim became when she was helpless, that had started to erode their relationship. She shuddered as she remembered the tight constraint of the strange leather body harness he insist she wear, along with the four inch healed stilettos, before chaining her arms above her head, so that she was stretched to the full extent that her shoes would allow. Nipple clamps and a ball gag completed the ensemble.

“Crack.”

Kim jumped as an audio memory so real caused her to feel the whip again as it snaked across her back, buttocks and legs again and again. Kim’s hands wandered subconsciously to her body as she mentally recounted the sudden pain that she had screamed, protesting into her gag.

Kim withdrew quickly and closed the door, choosing to loose herself in an exploratory jog around the island track that she had seen from the air, finishing up with a workout in the gym and relaxing in the Jacuzzi.

The next day, having explored the main house, Kim set out to explore some of the other buildings.

Two hours later, she discovered that most of the buildings were dedicated to maintenance of the grounds and building, as well as more tinned food, dried food and the like. Another building, Kim took for a stable, but closer inspection of the tack soon revealed that this was another facet of his perversions. Strange boots with no heal and horse shoes on the soles, leather body harnesses, bits and bridals, obviously designed for human use, forced her to retreat from the building.

After this, Kim returned to the house and changed into jogging bottoms and sports bra before heading off for the track. However, her run was spoilt as images of women carrying riders or pulling carriages along the track interfered with her normal calm. Kim was also surprised to find that these thoughts made her wet and excited.

Returning to the gym, Kim tried to go through her workout, but failed as images of pony girls, the word erupted into her self conscious and, after trying it out a few times, decided that it fit the situation, continued to flash into he mind.

Admitting defeat, Kim hit the showers, cleaned off the sweat, dried, threw on a cotton dress and sandals and walked over to the stables. Picking up various items, Kim eventually found her sizes. Twenty minutes later, Kim was dressed in a leather harness, which, while surrounding her bust, offered little support. A leather strap ran uncomfortably between her legs and straps at her waist, even at their smallest setting, pinched her waist uncomfortably. The boots were worse, but after several minutes, she was able to walk around comfortably in them. She also found a bit and bridle that fitted her reasonably well, as well. She also, found, after some consideration, what she thought were hoof gloves. The Velcro straps around the sides looked easy to fit and after trying with one glove fitted, decided that as long as she could make get her hands up to her mouth, even with the bit in, she could bite enough of the Velcro to take them off.

Leaving the gloves for a moment, Kim explored the back of the stable block and found what she knew to be there, a small, lightweight cart. After several moments, she saw how this could be attached to the strange D rings at her waist, which had puzzled her earlier.

Returning to the stall which she had dressed in earlier, she eventually got up the courage to place the strange bit in her mouth and fasten the bridal around her head. This was a little claustrophobic at first, as blinkers limited her world to straight ahead. The bit was also a little uncomfortable, but she should be all right. Next she struggled with the clips on the reigns. A second set puzzled her, until she saw how the reigns hung down below her jaw, touching her breasts. On an impulse and before she could dissuade herself, she attached the second pair of clips, butterfly, rather than the dog style used to attach the reigns to the head harness, onto her nipples. Gritting her teeth into the bit, she absorbed the pain, initially sharp, but which settled down to a dull throb.

Kim stopped to puzzle why she was doing this. Had Jim been right about her after all? He would never know and it didn’t hurt for her to have a little kinky fun. After all, she was in control this time and she trusted herself a damn site more that she had trusted Jim.

Grabbing the hoof gloves she walked over to the cart, tied the reigns around one of the rails behind the seat of the small, one-man craft, before testing the length and then finally clipping the carts two wooden shafts onto her body harness. Finally she attached the hoof gloves, using her limited jaw movement to pull the Velcro strap tight and fasten it around the gloves. Satisfied, she set off into the warm afternoon sun and, starting gradually, increased her pace until she was running along the track, pulling the carriage with more ease than she had initially thought possible.

Eventually she returned, having jogged for about six miles around the track. Only one incident marred the jog. She had taken the corner too fast and, due to the momentum of the cart, had been pushed forward before she could correct. Fortunately, she had only had to reverse herself out of some shrubs on the side of the track, but it had taught her that there was more to pulling a cart than she had considered, especially with a person on board.

Releasing her nipples from the reigns had proved painful, but she was glad that she had overcome her reservations and, she could admit it, fear. It had been like taking control again. She felt that she could now stand in the dungeon without running away screaming. In her own way, she had buried Jims more unsavoury aspects and she had actually found the experience liberating.

That night, glass at wine in hand, she eventually dared his DVD collection. As she had expected, it showed videos of his bondage sessions with his various wives, including her. There were even a few women who she didn’t recognise and had wished she had known of during divorce proceedings.

Kim slept better than she had for some time that night and got up refreshed and alive.

Kims Tail

Chapter 3

Rubberwolf

2008

Story codes: f-self, reluctant, imprison, gag

After her morning jog, without the pony gear, Kim decided to explore the rest of the buildings. So, having showered and changing into a cotton dress, she ate breakfast and set out to explore.

As well as supplies, an office and a sports room, Kim found something quite strange. It appeared to be, from what she could remember of her education, a milking room. Walking past the various stalls, which for some reason looked wrong, she found that it lead into a reasonably sized, enclose field. No cows were evident, and so Kim turned around and left. It made sense, she suppose, to be a little self sufficient, rather than relying on other people for supplies, she just couldn’t picture Jim as farmer Giles.

After a cup of coffee in the kitchen, she considered what she had found so far. Other than the stables and a dungeon, she was sure that Jim had other unsavoury indulgences to his sick preoccupation scattered about the island. Perhaps she would find something interesting in the building behind the house.

The large, concrete box was out of keeping with the rest of the buildings. Obviously newer, Kim could find no indication as to its content, since it boasted no windows. She walked around its large, square perimeter as far as she could, since a section of it seemed to lead alongside the house, and Kim remembered a door which she had pondered from the semi enclosed courtyard at the side of the house, next to the stable buildings.

Retracing her steps, she eventually found a door set into the rear of the building and reaching for her keys, was surprised to find that the door opened easily.

Stepping into the gloom, fluorescent lights activated to illuminate a strange, tiled, shower room. Kim turned but found that the door had closed behind her. It was then that she noticed that there was no doorknob. After some frantic pushing and trying to ease the door open with her keys, Kim eventually decided that she was not leaving that way and so turned to the door at the far end of the room, however, she nearly jumped out of her skin when a female voice echoed through the room.

“Please get undressed and place your clothes in the box provided. Once you have done this, coat your body liberally with the decontaminating jelly. You should leave this on for at least fifteen minutes and should be liberally applied to all areas of the body, including hair and private areas. After fifteen minutes, you should shower before proceeding into the next room. Thank you for co-operating fully with the requirement of this facility.”

“Hello. Who is there? I don’t want to go on, so if you could just open the door for me?”

Kim was puzzled. There was no response.

“Hello? Can you hear me?”

No response again. Kim decided that this must be a recording, activated when she came in. What the hell was this place, Kim wondered? She knew some of Jims business interests, but this was definitely weird. However, if it was a recording, then she expected that she could ignore it. Striding over to the door at the far side of the room, she found that, although it had a handle, it was locked. She banged on the door and called out again. Although she knew that this place was empty, she tried anyway, turning the door handle briskly left and right.

“Please get undressed and place your clothes in the box provided,” the message repeated.

Perhaps it is waiting for me to try the shower and so, stepping over, she turned the shower on and let the water run for several minutes, before turning the water off and trying the door handle again.

“Please get undress,” the message continued out its long instructions.

Kim looked at the metal box attached to the table. Pressing down, Kim found that the bottom moved, like a set of scales. Reluctantly, she removed her shoes, placed them in the box, gave the shower a quick blast and tried the door.

“Please get,” the message droned on.

Kim took off her dress and tried the shower, then the door. Again the message was repeated. Reluctantly, Kim stripped, placed all of her clothes in the box, before trying the shower and door. No luck.

This time the message was shorter, omitting part about getting undressed and launching straight into the instructions about the disinfectant jelly. How did it know? Was somebody really here?

With a growing sense of foreboding, Kim smeared the contents of the disinfectant jar she had found, putting on the swimming goggles before doing her face and hair.

“An alarm will sound after fifteen minutes. When you hear this alarm, please proceed to the shower cubicle and wash off the jelly, making sure that none remains, as this may cause irritation.”

Great, now it tells her.

Kim spent an uncomfortable time waiting for the buzzer but, after an eternity, where she imagined her skin burning or pealing, the alarm sounded and she raced for the shower.

After she had finished she looked for a towel, but couldn’t find one and so, dripping wet, she pulled off the goggles, letting out a cry of alarm as she did so. The goggles were tinted orange and, upon removing them, she sore that her skin had taken on a honey orange tan. Some areas, where the jelly had obviously been applied thickly, had blotched to a rich golden brown. Stepping back into the shower, she tried to scrub out the tan that she had acquired, but nothing would shift the blotchy stains on her skin. All the time, the voice continued to demand that she proceed to the next room.

Eventually, getting out of the shower, Kim retrieved her clothes from the box.

“Please get undressed and place your clothes in the box provided before proceeding onto the next room.”

Cursing, Kim threw her clothes into the box and stalked to the door, which opened easily. Stepping into the gloom, she remembered what had happened the last time she had stepped into a room in this place, but it was too late and the door had closed behind her.

“Please complete all of the tasks required before proceeding into the next room,” the voice intoned as the lights flickered into life.

Kim shivered as she looked around the room. It was a bare concrete room. A small plastic palette bed, with a plain duvet was set in one corner. Another door was on the other side of the room. Kim strode over and tried the door, but again was not able to open it.

“Please complete all,” the woman’s voice continued and Kim reluctantly started to explore her surroundings, not that there was much to see as she examined the room. Some hatches, which she could not open, were set into the floor. Other than that, she found nothing.

Kim had tried calling out, banging on the door, getting angry, shouting, crying, but nothing would work. If she tried the door, the same message would repeat. Despondently, she walked over to the cot bed and sat down to find out what the voice would ask of her next.

Kim lost track of time, she had tried sitting, and pacing, screaming occasionally, but the door remained the same. Just what the hell was this place? What the hell had Jim done here? What would happen to her? Curling upon the duvet, which was attached to the bed and offered her minimal comfort, sleep eventually found her.

She was eventually awoken by the voice.

“Please eat everything in the tray.”

At first Kim did not register what had been said, but after it had been repeated Kim crawled out of her cot and, after stretching her aching limbs, walked over to the opposite wall, where a tray had appeared. The moulded tray contained some sort of dried biscuits on one side and water in the other. Kim bent down and tried to lift the tray, but it was anchored firmly in position where it had jutted out of one of the little doors that she had noticed earlier. Peering down to look into the hatch, she could only make out a dark void beyond. Sitting down, Kim picked up the biscuits and bit into them. They did not taste that nice, but they were not bad either. After some more of these, she cupped her hands into the water and took several gulps. Finally, she had eaten about half of these biscuits and, although the voice prompted her on two more occasions, the food tray eventually slid away.

After several moments, a sliding sound caught her attention and she looked over towards the door that she had come in by. There, on the floor and firmly secured in place, was a large litter tray. As if in response, her bladder started to ache in that familiar way. If this were the only option open to her, then she would take it. Squatting down over the tray, Kim relieved herself with a satisfied sigh.

Kim did not know how long it was until her next meal, but her stomach growled loudly. She paced the room and took stock of her situation. At least she was being fed and the most she would have to endure this for was another week when the solicitors tried to radio and, finding no response, sent someone out to investigate. However, this was not the main concern. Kim worried about who had last used this room. How many other people had been subjected to this or were she the first one. She hadn’t seen anything like this in the DVDs that she had watched, but she had not gone through his whole collection and besides, he may not have videoed this. Yeah right. Where was this leading, she wondered? If this was an old project, how much food was left? Was the food bunker full?

Kim lost track of time, but when the next food arrived, Preceded by a buzzer, rather than the voice, she ate all of the biscuits and drank all of the water. She was starving. While eating, she noticed a sound behind her and, turning, watched as a fresh one replaced the litter tray as it rotated around, like the secret fireplace in Indiana Jones. Regardless, she had done more than wee the last time that she had used the box and it had started to smell.

After sleeping and being fed for several more times, where the buzzer noisily announced it was time to eat. Kim thought of Pavlov’s dog and sure enough, upon hearing the buzzer she had noted that she was drawling.

This time, when the buzzer sounded, another door had opened depositing a small plastic and wire thing into a tray, along with a small Allen key. A panel above this tray opened, revealing a small monitor.

“Please place the devise into your mouth and secure it using the Allen key provided, as shown in the video on the screen above the tray,” the voice intoned.

Kim had had braces when she was younger and this looked similar to the material that the dentist had used to secure them in her mouth. Looking at the video she saw that she was to place the device inside her mouth so that it sat across her tongue. This would, in effect, trap her tong. What the hell was this?

“No way. No fucking way,” she raged at the voice. “ You can go screw yourself if you think I am doing this she screamed and stomped over to the cot.

“Please place the device into your mouth and secure it using the Allen key provided, as shown in the video on the screen above the tray. Food will not be issued until your you have carried out this task.”

Kim fumed, but the message kept repeating. Kim raged at the voice, but eventually thirst and hunger won. She did not know how long she had refused, but she knew that, unless she wanted to starve to death, she would have to do as she was told. Defeated she walked over to the tray and fitted the device.

“Please continue to tighten until you hear the buzzer,” the voice advised.

How the hell did it know, she wandered. Perhaps there were some sorts of sensors in the thing. She didn’t know, but she tightened the Allen key until her tongue was held firmly in place and the ends, which fitted over her molars, would not budge at all.

“Please place the Allen key back in the tray,” the voice urged in an infuriatingly flat tone.

Kim gulped down her food in silence. She had no choice. She could make basic noises, but her ability to form words had been severely limited.

Kims Tail

Chapter 4

Rubberwolf

2008

Story codes: f-self. Reluctant, nc. Transformation, bd, electro, mc.

Although Kim had tried to use some of the drinking water to keep herself clean, her captors obviously felt she was getting a little grubby. The first that Kim knew about this however was when the buzzer sounded. As she had walked over to the food tray, which did not appear, her bedding and litter tray swivelled into their wall slots, leaving the room completely bare. The next instant, powerful jets of water erupted from small holes in the walls, drenching Kim in seconds. After a minute or two the jets stopped leaving Kim shocked and shivering with cold as the surplus water funnelled down the drain hole in the corner of the room.

Kim hugged herself and, for the first time since her captivity, began to cry. She did not know how long she had been here, but she doubted that she could withstand an entire week of this before relief arrived.

After the water had drained away her bedding, as well as fresh food and litter rotated back into her prison. Dejected, Kim crawled back into her cot, snuggled into the duvet and wept herself to sleep.

Kim was awoken by the sound of the buzzer. She had started to discern that different durations of sound meant different things. This, slightly longer tone, was indicative of an instruction. Sure enough, upon reaching the wall where the food was dispensed, an empty tray slid out from the wall.

“Please place all of your jewellery and metal objects in the tray”.

This was too much. She had been striped of her clothes, died a strange orangey colour, fed crap and made to sleep in a plastic box, not to mention being cleaned by high-pressure water sprayed at her.

“Oh. Ey are ine. Ot oo oo ont em or. I ant.”

This gibberish was barely understandable to Kim, let alone the Voice. Even if her refusal could have been understood, Kim knew that the Voice would not listen.

“Please place all of your jeweller and metal objects in the tray.”

Kim sat in stony silence as the Voice repeated its mantra in a continuous loop. However, she knew that it was pointless. If she wanted food and water she would have to obey. With exaggerated movements, that would have put a teenager in a strop to shame, Kim pulled off her rings, bracelet and ear studs and threw them into the tray.

“Am oo,” Kim cursed as another piece of her vanished into the walls.

To her surprise, another draw opened. This one contained something. Kim picked it up and examined it. It was a collar made of thick, pink, leather. Metal studs were placed around the outside, while on the inside; wires connected the backs of the studs. A chunky compartment on the outside of the collar caught her attention, but it was sealed. She also noticed a metal tag, but before she could examine the collar further the Voice interrupted her thoughts.

“Place the collar around your neck.”

“Oo av ot oo ee iddin.”

But the Voice simply repeated its demand.

Kim already knew that she had lost the fight and so, after a few moments, placed the collar around her neck, pushing male/female connections into place with an audible “Click.”

“Well done Honey,” the Voice praised. “Go to your basket,” the Voice continued.

As Kim approached, she noticed that a long, rectangular section of wall rotated around, revealing a length of chain. The rectangular section then pivoted from it’s base, outwards, so that it formed a forty-five degree arc from the base of the wall.

“Honey. When you here this noise,” the buzzer sounded again, this time stopping and restarting three times, “It is your rest period. You should get into your basket and attach the chain. You can release the chain at the end of your rest period, when you hear the buzzer again. Try it now.”

The buzzer sounded three times and, dragging her feet as much as she could, she walked over to her bed and examined the chain. The connector looked similar to a normal dog lead, except that the moving bar opened outwards. Unhooking the chain from the wall panel, which slid noiselessly back into place, Kim clipped the chain to her collar before she heard a click. Reaching up, she found that the chain was now stuck fast.

“Good girl Honey,” the Voice cooed.

Kim experimented and found that, although she enjoyed about three feet of movement, she could not move far from her basket. She had better make sure that she had used the toilet beforehand. The buzzer sounded again and Kim removed the chain.

“Honey. This is a disciplinary collar. If you do not perform a task quickly enough, a small electric charge will be delivered to you. If you are still disobedient, the next shock will carry an even greater charge. It is important that you attach the chain correctly, since this will charge the batteries in your collar. If you fail to attach the chain, you will receive electric shocks until the battery is exhausted. You will also lose one of your food entitlements. You will receive a mild shock for demonstration purposes in three, two, one.”

Kim only had moments to take in what the Voice had told her and its immediate effect, trying her best to brace herself before pain erupted in a necklace of fire around her neck, causing her limbs to twitch and judder, sending her to the floor in a spasmodic dance. The pain stopped as quickly as it had started. Kim lay on the floor for several moments before she noticed that the floor was wet. Looking down, she saw that she had wet herself.

The food buzzer sounded and, just in case the Voice felt she was not being quick enough, she scuttled over to the food tray as quickly as she could.

“Dinner time Honey,” the Voice chimed in a cheery Voice.

Why, Kim wondered, did the Voice keep calling her Honey? She hated that term, or was it a name. As well as taking her clothes, her jewellery and her Voice, had she now lost her name? Was there anything that she could do about it if it had? Kim crammed the dry food into her mouth as she tried her best not to give the Voice a reason to shock her again, letting another part of herself go as she fiddled with the strange metal tag that she had found on the collar. It would not surprise Kim to find the name Honey etched into it.

The pattern was set for the next few sleep periods. The buzzer would sound three times and the chain would detach. Kim would get up, use the litter tray and eat biscuits. She had given up trying to find out why this was happening to her or who, if anybody was behind it. She had formed a theory that Jim had been into some pretty weird stuff. She was probably spared exposure to this place only because she managed to leave the marriage when she did. It stood to reason, she decided, that some of his earlier wives would have been bought to this island to satisfy his perversions. This room was just a small piece of that life that had been left untended, only to be reactive when she had blundered into it. That did not bode well for her food supplies, or that the solicitor will search here when he arrives. But she must hold on. If she gives up now, then she is truly lost.

On the eighth rest period, the buzzer sounded as usual, followed by the long buzz that indicated she was to receive new instructions. Sure enough, after she had reached the food wall, another tray appeared containing a bundle of leather straps. As she picked them up, a panel in the wall slid back to reveal the video screen she had seen earlier.

“Honey. Place the binders onto your legs as shown on the video screen above the tray. Good girl.”

Kim watched the animation play out, showing how she should sit on the floor, bending her leg so that her foot was touching her ass, before pulling the loose straps down her leg and tightening them in a strict leather prison.”

“Oh uckin ay oo ayee itch. Oo an oa oo orelf eore I,” Kim ranted as she desperately tried to pull the collar off.

Too late, she realized, as she desperately pried at the catch, that it would not come off and a moan of despair escaped from her lips.

Zzzzzzzz.

Kim’s limbs began to shake in uncontrollable spasms as the shock pounded at her like an unmerciful fist. Her jaw clamped shut and she shook in place until mercifully, the electricity stopped and she collapsed into a heap on the floor.

As she returned from her own painful hell and she crawled back to awareness, she heard the Voice again.

“On the video screen above the tray. You now have three minutes to comply.”

“Oh shit”, she thought as she scrambled to her feet and picked up one of the bundles of straps.

After a few moments of panic, she managed to find out how it should be fitted and scrambled to pull the leather prison over her knee and down her folded leg. Frantically she adjusted the position and began to pull the buckles tight.

“Above the tray. You now have twenty seconds to comply.”

Desperation and panic drove her, but she had only buckled one leg, grabbing the second bundle, she fumbled with the many straps, dropping it onto the floor. Kim tried desperately to get it on to her legs, to show the Voice that she was trying her best, but she did not make it.

Zzzzzz

“Two minutes and thirty seconds to comply,” the Voice chimed as she groaned back into consciousness.

That had been a real bugger. Longer and harder than the first shock, it had left her drunk and punchy. Kim picked up the bundle from where it had been dropped and, using all of her remaining skill, pulled the straps over her knee, adjusting the rubber pad, as the video had shown.

“Fifteen seconds to comply”

Kim worked faster, pulling at the buckles and tightening this unforgiving prison around her.

“Eight, seven, six, five, Good girl,” the now perky Voice chirped.

Kim collapsed onto her back, with her folded legs now encased in leather, as her breath came in exhausted gasps and sweat glistened over her orange body.

Over the next few cycles, Kim experimented with moving. The rubber pads on her knees were a clear indication of how the Voice thought she should move and, after finding that nothing else would actually work, Kim got onto all fours and shuffled around her prison.

The food buzzer announced that it was mealtime. However, instead of food, the video panel greeted her. It showed a picture of a woman kneeling down, with her hands on the ground in front of her.

“Honey. When you hear the food buzzer, you must come to this wall and sit in this position. No food will be given until you have sat for one minute. Try this now.”

Again, the buzzer sounded as a prompt and, knowing the consequences of not complying, Kim sat still for the required time.

“There’s a good girl Honey. Aren’t you a clever girl?”

The food tray swung open delivering it’s usual mix of dried biscuit and water. Kim began to eat. It was not great food, but it was food. She couldn’t enjoy it though, it had flavour, but it tasted processed. But it was keeping her alive until the solicitor arrived. Kim smiled at the irony of the situation. Here she was, praying for rescue by one of Jim’s parasitic legal sharks. The gods play such games with mortals she chuckled.

After she had finished, she returned to her basket and examined the rubber pads. For some reason there were strange grooves, or tracks in the side of the pads. These were made from metal and it was obvious that something was supposed to fit onto the pad, although she could not imagine what. She didn’t want to think about it anyway, it was bound to be unpleasant and the Voice would tell her when she was ready.

Two cycles later and her questions were answered.

The buzzer sounded in the long tone and Honey quickly scrambled to her hands and knees and shuffled over to sit at the wall.

“Please dress in the clothes provided. The correct method of applying these garments is shown on the video screen above the tray.”

Looking up, Honey saw that she was holding a tank top of some kind. Although it had long, orange or honey coloured hair, a high collar and two holes in the front.

“No prizes for guessing what goes in there,” Honey mused to herself as she held the garment up. Sure enough, the video animation confirmed her suspicions. Quickly, she pulled the garment over he head and, once her arms were through the holes, pulled the top down, adjusting her breasts once they had poked through the holes. Finally, she pulled the high neck under her collar.

“Good girl,” the voice encouraged as Honey quickly looked at the video screen to find out what was next.

Judging by the image on the screen, she was looking for a set of leggings. Sure enough, after rummaging through the pile, she found something that would be called leggings, although they were more like suspender tights, since they did not have a bottom, only a small flap of material with, what she could only guess, was a tail. Turning it over in her hands, she examined the garment. Yes, definitely a tail.

“Oh well,” she thought as she sat down and pulled the garment over her knees. Its then that she noticed the two feet, or more accurately paws, attached to the end of the legs.

“That figures,” Honey mused as she pulled the leggings up and finally got the belt over her ass and around her waste.

Looking at the screen animation, she saw that the paws should be pushed around the pads, so that the cups inside the paws matched up with the grooves on the rubber pads. Honey fiddled with the left paw until she heard a click and found that the paw was now firmly attached to her knee. She then repeated this on her right knee before looking at the screen again.

Judging by the animation, a strip of card covered the flat base of the tail, this should be peeled off and the triangular, splayed section should then be pressed down onto her tailbone. Honey did this without question, holding it in place until she had, as instructed, counted slowly to one hundred. Letting go of her tail, Honey knelt forward and waggled her ass, giving the long, straight tail an experimental wag.

Looking obediently back at the screen Honey, which is how she now thought of herself, waited for the next instruction eager to please the Voice and avoid further shocks.

The next instruction was that she should run a brush through her hair. As she rummaged through the tray she found a hairbrush. Luxuriating in the feel of a small piece of reclaimed humanity, Honey brushed until her naturally curly hair ran easily through the brush.

Looking back to the screen, the next item was a mask. Following the instructions, she pulled the material elements forward, covering the face. Next she fiddled with the mask until she had bent the rubber fold of the mouth behind her top lip. Next, she pushed the mask onto her face and pulled the balaclava over her head, feeding her hair through a hole in the top of the material and pulling the bottom of the balaclava under her collar. This was not easy since, although the material was stretchy, it was also very tight as it pulled the mask into her face.

After some adjustment of her hair she imagined what she must look like. The mask had jowls that ran along her top lip, with a small black nose and whiskers. Her lower jaw was free of the half mask and a simple material and fur balaclava held everything in place. Her orange hair complemented the material exactly, just as she now knew the dye was meant to. She also sported two tall, pointy orange ears.

Again, the voice encouraged her with praise before issuing more instructions. Again, Honey looked for the video for instructions.

“Place your hands into the gloves, making sure that the glove shown in the illustration goes onto the right hand. As you ease your hand into the glove, form a fist with your hand. Once you have done this, place your hands into the holes in the wall below the video screen.”

Honey did as she was told, using her teeth to pull the left glove on. Once on, the glove, did not feel securely fastened. The cuff, which went around the wrist, was leather, like the glove, which formed into a convincing facsimile of a paw. But in order to get the glove on in the first place, the leather was not joined, but formed a V shaped slit. However, Honey placed her gloved hands into the slots and a few moments later felt the gloves tugging at her as something was wrapped firmly around her wrists. After several moments, Honey felt heat around her wrists, but resisted the urge to pull back. Finally she felt something else tugging at her wrist, before finally the Voice told her she could withdraw.

“Whose a good girl Honey? Are you my clever dog? Good Honey,” the Voice praised in a soppy voice.

Honey looked at her hind paws. She could see that the wrists were now covered in fur material and she could just make out the tell tail look of a melted glob of plastic, just under the cuff.

“Good girl Honey. Bark if you’re my good girl.”

Honey was too lost in studying her transformation and did not here the instruction, as she gazed at her transformation.

Zzzzzzz

Honey yelped as her collar shocked her, but it was only a low voltage tap.

“Bark if you are my good girl Honey.”

Honey barked and yapped for all she was worth.

“Good girl,” the Voice continued. “It’s din dins time. Your such a good doggy.”

Honey barked and wagged her tail, as she was sure she was expected to do, for all she was worth. The now empty tray disappeared and the food tray rotated into the room.

Instead of the dry biscuits that she had been expecting, she now saw that her dish contained wet dog food, mixed in with biscuits. Looking at her paws, Honey knew that she could not pick up her food. She had only one way of eating now and, sighing as another piece of her humanity disappeared, put her face into the dish and began to eat the chunks of meat, gravy and biscuits.

Over the next dozen or so cycles, Honey learnt how to sit, beg, role over and play dead. She also quickly learnt how to position her body so that the collar lined up with the lead clip. This was important, as she still had to sleep with her lead on at night, but could not use her hands as she had in the past. The Voice would also play ball with her, popping a rubber ball out of a chute in the wall, which Honey would run after excitedly, before grabbing it in her mouth and running over to place it in a bin that was opened for just this game.

The Voice was a good mistress and would reward her with chocolate drops and toys. Honey now had a rubber bone, and old slipper, a squeaky rabbit and a football. Honey played with and chewed all of them, because she knew what would happen if she didn’t

A long time passed, when Honey could only distantly remember being Kim, waking crying from a dream as she recalled shopping, other people or any number of human activities. But she would soon forget this as another round of fetch, or beg or chew the squeaky toy until it breaks, filled up her day. Then Honey noticed something new. The door that she had sought to go through for so long was open.

Honey shook with fear at the import of this, but knowing the Voice, or what could happen if she didn’t, she edged her way gingerly towards what she was sure was daylight.

Kim’s Tail

Chapter 5

Rubberwolf

2008

Story codes: bd, reluctant, nc, beast, rp, mc.

Honey edged out of the room that had been her prison for an eternity of degradation and pain. Blinking she edged into the light of day. After a while she saw that she was in a large, enclose, courtyard, about the same size as her room. A large metal gate, with vertical steel bars stood open at one end of the compound and she could see an even larger yard beyond. Other dogs, real dogs, were lounging about or playing in the warm sun. The gate had wheels on the bottom of it and, she assumed, would slide across the entrance in order to close it.

As she adjusted to the light she stepped further into the compound. A hissing noise behind her indicated that the door to her old room had closed and, turning around, her suspicions were confirmed. Turning around she noticed, that she was next to a small structure of some kind and, walking forward she found that a sturdy wooden kennel, with the name Honey painted in bright pink letters across the front opening. Great, she had her own doghouse.

Moving forward she edged her head into the kennel to see that it contained a new duvet, as well as a selection of dog toys. Backing out she could see a chain similar to her old one held at collar height. A food dish and water bowl had been left out for her and she quickly lowered her head and began to eat ferociously. If she was sharing with other dogs, they might want to steel her food and so she ate quickly, lifting her head occasionally to look at the other dogs. Satisfied, she licked her bowl clean and then lapped at her water dish. Only then did she raise her head and look at her smaller yard.

Re-adjusting her eyes to the gloom in the smaller yard. Five other kennels were arranged around the yard and sported names like Tyson or Rover. An assortment of dog toys littered the yard and some of the blankets had been pulled out of the kennels. It smelt heavily of dog.

Looking back to the larger yard, Honey saw that there were more than five dogs in the yard. She needed to investigate. If she was ever going to find her way out of here, she needed to see what was in the larger yard. Tentatively, she edged out. Several of the dogs had raised their heads and were now paying attention to her. Focusing what courage she had left, Honey paced forward. Some of the dogs had stood up and were now making their way towards her. Although, she considered, bounding would be a better word.

Frightened, Honey stopped in her tracks as the first dog, a Golden Retriever, reached her. Licking her face, he then walked around her. Honey, shuffled around to face him, but decided that this would do no good, as another dog, a German Shepherd joined her. Both animals now began to sniff her, angling around to her crotch. Honey jumped as a cold, wet nose suddenly bumped against her exposed pussy. It sniffed a couple of times and then came around the front to lick her face and body, while the second dog took her sent in the same manner.

Soon, animals, perhaps as many as twenty, surrounded her as they explored their new arrival. However, eventually the dogs began to wonder off to one corner or another and Honey was left with the first two who seemed pleased to have a new friend, bounding playfully and yapping. In the end, she decided to join them and spent a vigorous afternoon playing tussle with a rope loop. Eventually, exhausted, she collapsed in the shade, joined by her new friends.

Looking around, she saw that the compound that contained her kennel was not alone and that another three similar gates dominated one entire wall of the compound. Honey and the dogs spent the rest of the afternoon lounging in the yard, only getting up to drink from their water bowls, or to defecate in a corner of the yard.

Finally, as the sun started to set, a familiar buzzer sounded and, as if choreographed, all of the dogs stood as one and trotted off towards their various kennels. Honey followed suite and was soon attached to the magnetic lock on her chain. This chain had more movement than the last and, unlike her other cellmates, she was annoyed to see that she was the only one secured in such a manner. She was; however, glad to see that her new friends were in the same cellblock as her. She also discovered that the golden retriever was called Sunny, while the Shepherd was called Cal. The three other occupants were Tyson, a Rotty, Rover, a Collie, and Prince, a Great Dane. All of the animals turned to the gate as it rattled across the entrance, sealing them in for the night.

Rather than sleeping in their own kennels, her two friends took pity on her and joined her. It was a tight squeeze, but proved quite warm, although Cal snored like an old boiler. Eventually, Honey fell asleep, strangely content with her new life after so much recent brutality and subjugation.

The buzzer announced that it was time to get up and Honey was instantly awake, as she had been trained to be. Extracting herself from the mound of bodies was not easy, but the other dogs were also on the move and soon, after a little jostling, Honey stood outside and sidled up to the side of the shed, latching her leash onto the hook. As soon as it connected, the lead popped open, allowing her to leave. Quickly, after lapping water from her bowl, which was fixed to the floor, honey followed the other dogs into the yard.

She spent a pleasant morning lounging around or playing chase with the dogs and then, something strange happened. A rattling noise from what she had first thought to be guttering drew her attention. Pipes stretched down from above the small yards, Honey had thought that they were just drain pipes, but they started to drop food and water into the bowls. Now she knew why they were fixed in place. The tubes retracted to their original place and, although all of the dogs were standing attentively looking at the food, none of them moved. Finally, the familiar feeding buzzer sounded and Honey joined in the mad rush to get to the food bowls.

This is how she now spent her days. Lazily lounging about in the sun, since it had proved to he a warm summer, having her food delivered once a day and sleeping either in the kennel, or dragging her blanket outside and snuggling up with the rest of the pack. This became more the norm as the other dogs in her pack bundled into one fury mass as the evenings became cooler.

The evenings were definitely getting cooler and her pack had bundled together for the night. Honey twitched in her sleep as she dreamed. She was not Honey in her dreams, but Kim. She was standing in the forest. Sunlight spilled down onto her naked breasts as she stood waiting. She wore the leather harness that she had discovered in the stables, along with the bit, bridal and reins. Looking down she saw that she was wearing the strange pony boots that she remembered wearing in those early days. She also wore the hoof gloves and she could also make out the wooden shafts of the small cart that she had pulled. Unlike her last outing, her wrists were strapped to her forearms with thick leather straps. She also squirmed uncomfortably from something stuck in her ass. Looking down, she caught sight of a long, blond horsetail sticking out of her bum

“Come on bitch, I said that I needed to race you, not watch you take in the scenery,” Jim Stars baritone voice boomed out.

“Crack.”

Kim jumped as the familiar pain from the whip leapt across her exposed buttocks and she surged forward as she joined the track and started to pull. The cart was quite heavy now that it had an occupant, but she was used to working out and soon had found a comfortable stride.

As well as the tail, the other uncomfortable item was the leather strap that ran between her legs. It had been pulled tighter than she had worn for her run and rubbed against her clit, arousing her as her body moved in her rhythmic sway.

“God you’re a horny little filly aren’t you,” Jim taunted from the back.

Kim kept running as the whip cracked and her juices began to coat the leather, lubricating it and making it pull smoothly along her exposed clit. The sound of creaking leather was joined by a strange noise that she could not place.

Whup, whup, whup, whup

Kim woke. It was daylight, but the strange noise was still there.

Whup, whup, whup, whup.

Suddenly Kim knew what the sound was as stood up. The helicopter. Kim could hear the helicopter. Craning her neck around she struggled to catch a glimpse of it, but was unable to. The helicopter had obviously flown in on the same tack that had delivered her, so that the compound was not visible from the helicopter.

However, this didn’t matter. Help was here. They had come looking for her. Kim was overjoyed. Rescue at last. It was Kim and not Honey who tried to shout, sitting up to wave her arms, as best she could. Which was her mistake. Weather it was the fact that she was trying to articulate human noises, rather than barks or whines, or weather she waved her arms in some sort of human pose, she could not know, but whatever she did, she realized her mistake as the shock collar sent a vicious jolt of lightning through the electrodes against her neck, sending her body into uncontrollable spasms, which seemed to last for a painful, cramp filled, eternity, before unconsciousness mercifully claimed her.

Kims Tail 6

Rubberwolf

2009©

Hazel stood beside the helicopter as the pilot unloaded her luggage. Turning around she addressed Mr Prentice.

“This is quite a set up. How long can I stay here?”

“As long as you wish Ms O’Keif. Mr Star did not specify a time limit, merely that you should have full use of the Island.”

Hazel studied the man for a moment and was immediately taken by the notion that he looked remarkably like Penfold, from the children’s television program “Dangermouse”. Short, fat, balding, glasses and earnest expression.

As well as Penfold and the pilot, his secretary Bubbles or Candy, Hazel couldn’t remember, staggered as elegantly as possible on impossibly high heals and a mini-skirted business suit that left very little to the imagination. The low cut blows certainly showed off the blonds assets. Hazel wasn’t sure why she had come, but then again, she could understand why Mr Prentice would like having her around. It definitely wasn’t her admin skills that attracted him. Hazel hid a smile, covering her musings with another question.

“Jim had several wives. I can’t be the only one to take advantage of the island.”

Penfold, or rather Mr Prentice considered for a moment.

“Ms Banner also took advantage of the facilities.”

“Is she still here?”

Mr Prentice appeared troubled for a moment, before continuing.

“Unfortunately, we were unable to raise her on the radio. I came out by boat, but she was not here. I did, however, notice that the boathouse is empty, so I can only assume that she wished to leave without contacting me. Most strange behaviour,” the lawyer mused before coming back to himself. “However, I have had the radio serviced and ensured that the supplies have been replenished. Everything that you could wish is here. I would ask that, for my own peace of mind, that if you decide to leave the Island you radio me first and I will send the helicopter.”

Hazel was about to ask more, but the pilot shouted that they must be off shortly, as a weather front was moving in on the mainland and, if they did not want to fly to the next available airport, which was two hundred miles away, they should leave now. Mr Prentice hurried his goodbyes, having ensured that the pilot had stacked her bags at the house and that the electricity and water were working, before climbing aboard the helicopter and hurrying back to the mainland. Hazel watched him go before making her way to the main house.

As she had expected, Jim had lavished the best facilities that money could buy on his hideaway. She was not complaining as she snuggled down with a mug of warm co-co, in front of a well stocked fire, as the promised storm lashed at the island with savage ferocity, forcing her to bury herself further inside the duvet, as she read a trashy romance novel that she had brought with her.

Kim spent a miserable night in her kennel, snuggling as closely to the dogs as possible as the rain came down in sheets, flooding the yard. Kim flinched, her paw subconsciously touching her collar, as another lightning bolt lit up the sky, causing the other animals to whimper and shake, snuggling closer to gain comfort from the huddle of bodies.

Hazel woke refreshed the next morning, ready to explore the island. After circling around the tennis courts, she found a track leading off into the woodland. It was quite wide, paved with compacted gravel and obviously well maintained. Hazel loved the atmosphere after a really good storm, the fresh air, clean air and the beginnings of warmth, promising another hot day. Ideal weather for a constitutional after breakfast.

After half an hour, Hazel was beginning to feel the heat. Unfortunately, the pale skin and jet black hair which indicated her Irish descent, made exposure to the sun a painful experience and so she opted to keep the Baggy T shirt on. She was a little self conscious of her body, which had gained a little weight in the past five years. She would never be a size 8 again, although the added weight had done wonders for her bust. Although she knew that she was alone on this island, old habits died the hardest and so she kept covered.

As the path turned sharply right, she saw another track leading away, down to a wooden shack at the bottom of the hill which dipped away from the path sharply towards the sea. This, Hazel mused, must be the boat house. After a moments consideration, she walked down to the building to investigate.

Hazel spent a few minutes exploring the building, with its sloping floor which disappeared beyond the double doors. Unfortunately, it was as Penfold had described it. Empty. Making her way up the hill to re-join the path, Hazel soon forgot about the boathouse and Kim.

Strangely, as the breeze shifted, as she was returning to the house, she though she caught the sound of dogs. She had not found any kennels and so decided that she would do more exploring after lunch.

Hazel had a pleasant lunch, assembled from Jims well stocked fridge before, after a few more chapters of her trashy novel, she decided to explore some more of the buildings.

After finding store rooms and offices in the immediate buildings, Hazel found some more disturbing constructions. Sure enough, Jim had built a dungeon in the basement. Memories flooded her awareness as she ran her hands over some of the equipment and costumes. When Jim had first started dating her, they had explored her submissive tendencies, which she had by the bucket load. She had enjoyed it at first, but Jim had progressed his own dominant side to the point where Hazel had had to flee, or lose all of her identity to become Jims sexual play thing and pain slut. A bit of pain was fine. But towards the end, Jims excesses had frightened her. The divorce had cost her a fortune, but she had retained far more by fleeing. Shuddering, Hazel removed the hand that had been caressing a wooden chair, with raised metal points throughout the surface and numerous straps and buckles, before leaving the dungeon.

The outbuildings were just as interesting. A stables with riding tack that was never designed for a horse. The interior held several stalls, each one clad in wood, with iron work well above the split door of the cubicles. Making her way past a human sized cart, to a door at the back of one of the stalls. However, although she could not see a key hole, it appeared to be locked and so she made her way over to the stable door, which had closed by itself. She reached over and raised the latch before heading back out into the stable itself. Another door, at the back of the stable building was also locked and so Hazel decided to go back into the courtyard and explore the other buildings.

As she stepped into the yard, through the side door, a loud bang caused her to jump. The door which she had come through had shut loudly behind her. Staring for a moment, she soon forgot about the spring loaded door as she made her way across the yard to the next building. This seemed to be a milking parlour. She had spent enough time on farms to recognise the metal gates and feeding troughs. She could see the suckers that would go onto the cows teats, but there were only two, rather than four and they seemed to be held rigidly in a metal arm attached to the ground.

Understanding dawned and, before she could stop herself, Hazel found herself on all fours, with her head over the empty feeding trough. Sure enough, her breasts hung over the two cups and she had no doubt where her nipples would go if she took her shirt and bra off.

Standing up, she brushed the dust off of her jeans as she looked around at the milk container. God it was huge. How did he expect any woman to fill that? Shaking her head she took in the bared gates and how they could be used to cage as well as coral.

“Damn, you were into some weird shit Jim,” Hazel puzzled, shaking her head. Again, this building had a back door, but again it was locked.

Another building loomed behind the stable and the milking shed, with other outbuildings leading away from it, connected to it. This must be where the back doors lead she mused.

As she approached the third building, the sound of dogs that she had heard earlier increased. She could plainly hear the animals on the other side of the wall, which she followed around, but could not gain entry to. At last, she decided to go back to the house for a coffee. She would explore the rest later.

After coffee, Hazel radioed Penfold to let him know that she was alright and had settled in. She asked about the building, but the lawyer could offer no answer, simply saying that Mr Star had arranged for the maintenance of those buildings himself.

“I bet he did,” Hazel smirked to herself as she concluded the conversation.

Outside, she made her way to the other side of the large building. At first she could not see anything, but at last she found a door. It was open. She could not make out what was on the other side of the door, as it was dark. Gingerly, Hazel edged her way into the room beyond. She was halfway into the room when she notices the triangle of light cast from the door was growing smaller. Quickly she spun around and made a dash for the rapidly closing door, but it was too late. Hazel found herself in darkness, searching desperately for the handle which wasn’t there. The door was smooth and Hazel found that she would have to abandon this exit and look for another. Turning around she headed into the centre of the dark space before she was suddenly blinded as bright, fluorescent lights came on.

After adjusting to the light, Hazel found that she was in some sort of bathroom; a counter took up one side of the room, with a box sitting on it. A shower stood in the corner on the other side of the tiled room. On the opposite wall was another door, but again, Hazel could not see a handle. She nearly jumped out of her skin when a voice suddenly boomed out of a speaker in the wall.

Kims Tail 7

Rubberwolf

2009©

Storycodes: f-self, reluct, lactation

Kim was despondent. She had recovered to the sound of the helicopter as it diminished into the distance. However, this melancholy did not last long. If there was one thing that Kim had learnt, it was resilience. She went about her routine of eat play with the dogs, sleep and more play, but in between she planned how she would get out of the compound and reclaim her humanity. However, no obvious solution to her problem presented itself. She was starting to lose hope. Then, a few days after the helicopter, Kim noticed something that she had not seen before. One of the supposedly solid plastic cuffs around her paw had frayed a little, revealing a small amount of material in amongst the melted plastic. The first ray of hope started to form in Kim’s mind as she stared at her left wrist.

Hazel had not had a good day. She had argued and pleaded with the voice, the door or anybody who would listen, but the same message had prompted her to remove her clothes, apply the strange lotion and then, after fifteen minutes to have a shower. At last she had relented and now stood staring down at herself. Her normally pail skin was now pure white. Strangely, her body was also covered in large black blotches, obviously an effect due to the thickness of the gunk that she had smeared over her body before allowing it to dry and then showering off. But this was not the worst as her brown eyes grew wide with horror, her hands pressed firmly against her cheeks as her mouth formed a large O.

Looking down at herself she could now see that, not only had she washed the gunk off, but her hair, all of her hair, was now at her feet in the shower cubicle. She was completely bald. She had even less hair than the day she had been born. The fine hair on her arms, along with her long raven hair, as well as her bush, were all clumped together in a clogging, thick mass at the bottom of the shower.

Hazel staggered out of the shower and attempted to retrieve her clothes, but as she did so, the voice that she had grown to hate, she couldn’t decide if it was Joanna Lumbley or the woman from the AOL adverts, sounded through the speakers again.

“Please get undressed and place your clothes in the box provided before proceeding into the next room.”

Sobbing, hazel did as she was told. Now she would get out of hear. She was going to have strong words with Penfold or whatever he was called. She was so busy fuming that she didn’t notice that she had already stepped through the door into another room. The sound of the door closing behind her caused her to spin around, her 36D breasts swinging painfully around, since she no longer wore a bra, to face the door that she was certain was now locked as well as closed. Sure enough she found that she would not be leaving this way.

Looking around the room, Hazel found herself in an empty room. A door stood on the other side of fifteen by ten room. Unusually, the floor was covered in straw.

“Please complete all of the tasks required before proceeding into the next room,” the voice intoned.

Hazel groaned. Whatever this building was designed for, she was now a part of it. She had stumbled into one of Jims strange fantasies and she must, judging by all of the planning, see it through until the ride ends, or she is eventually rescued by the lawyer or maintenance people.

Kim had spent her time constructively. The best course of action was to whittle away at the wrist and see what happens. Unfortunately, the compound had been designed so that there were no sharp edges anywhere, obviously to prevent what she was considering. The other problem was that she did not know how her actions were controlled. Was it really a computer program or was Jim still out there, watching and monitoring her every move? Whatever she did, it would have to be out of site of the main compound. The kennel was not the best surface to try and free her wrists, but she was sure that there were no cameras in her little home and so, every night, Kim started to rub her wrist against the rounded slats inside her kennel.

Hazels stay had got stranger and stranger. After an eternity, a strange horn had sounded from the speakers and a panel had rotated out of the wall to reveal a tray of grass. But it was not common garden grass, This stuff smelled strongly of lemon. Strangely, it was still growing in its own box of soil.

“Please eat all of the vegetation provided,” the voice commanded from the speaker.

As if in response, her tummy started to grumble.

“What the hell,” Hazel thought as she ripped a hand full of grass out of the box and placed it in her mouth. As she started to chew, her earlier suspicion was confirmed. This was edible. It was a salad variety of some sort. Once she had finished the tray, leaving only short stumpy vegetation, the box rotated back into the wall. Another section of wall, also at ground level, rotated out.

“Please eat everything in the tray provided”.

Hazel suddenly remembered Alice in Wonderland.

“Curiosa and curiosa, “ mumbled Hazel as she approached the tray.

Rather than a small bottle or cake with instructions to “Eat me” or “Drink me,” Hazel found that the stainless steel, half cylindrical tray was separated into two halves. One half contained water, the other a cereal of some sort. Scooping a hand full of water into her hands, she raised it to her mouth and drank, before whipping her hands down her sides and taking a handful of the cereal and scooping it into her mouth. Fortunately, she mused, she did not start to grow or shrink.

“Hmmm, not bad,” she mused as she cupped another handful of the trail mix and shoved it into her mouth.

After what felt like several days of this, the routine changed. Hazel woke to find a metal gate moving out of the wall and making its way across her cell, to the other wall, effectively cutting her quarters in half. Suddenly a section of the wall detached itself about two feet from the floor. It was only three or four inches in height, but ran half the length of the room, up to the gate. Hazel watched as metal rods continued to push the section of wall, which then rotated downward revealing broom bristles. These were lowered to the floor and all of the straw was swept into another section of wall, underneath the first opening, which had also opened and which the old straw was being swept into. Once this had been cleared, the broom and lower opening retracted back into the wall. Once this had been accomplished, a panel in the ceiling opened, dropping fresh straw into that side of the room.

After this, the gate retracted about four feet before the voice ordered her into the area that had just been cleaned. The gate then closed and the soiled straw on the now unoccupied side was removed and fresh straw added in the same manner. After this the routine of eat, sleep and pace around her cell continued.

Hazel was not getting enough exercise. She noticed that she seemed to be gaining weight. Also, her breasts were aching. Perhaps it was just hormones. Had she been in here that long she wondered?

A little while later, she took more interests in her breasts. The pain had not subsided and they looked bigger somehow. She did not have long to ponder this as, yet again, the voice announced a change in the routine.

“Please go to the panel that has just opened and collect the object that has been dispensed,” the voice cheerfully chimed.

When she got out of this, she was definitely going to smack Joanna Lumbley.

Walking over to the panel by the door, Hazel noticed that a panel had indeed opened. Picking up the object she found that it was a collar. Inspecting the collar she noticed that it had a strange metal panel on the inside. Rather than a buckle the collar had a strange locking arrangement, where metal prongs on one side of the collar could be placed into corresponding holes on the other side. The most curious thing however was a large, flat sided bell was clipped to, what she supposed was the front of the collar. A D ring was also attached to the back of the collar, near the connection point, but she could not figure out what this was for. Usually, on a buckle, this would be where you slid the bit of belt to stop it from coming undone, but she could see no strap.

“Please place the collar around your neck as shown on the video screen.”

Hazel looked around and, just as promised a panel had slid back revealing a screen. This showed a computer generated woman placing the collar around her neck, with the bell hanging at the front.

This was a bit weird and so Hazel decided that she would pass on this occasion, despite the continued reminders from the voice. Hazel didn’t know how long this had gone on for, but eventually she gave in. The voice had become most insistent and the rumbling from her tummy told her that she was well overdue for some food.

“So that’s your game is it?” Hazel questioned.

She either did as she was told, or she would not be fed. Sure enough, as soon as she had placed the collar around her neck, the dinner horn sounded and her usual two course meal, grass first, was presented to her.

Hazel had a fitful nights sleep. Every time that she got comfortable, the damned bell would clunk and bring her into a half waking state, before she drifted off again. At last, exhaustion won out and before she knew it, she was awoken by the food horn.

Her tits seemed to be getting bigger and bigger as she spent more time here. It wasn’t just that she was putting on weight. They were definitely getting bigger. Perhaps it was something in the water. Finally, as she was examining her E or maybe F cups, a small trickle of white liquid snaked down her breast. Hazel stared at it in horror as it made its way down her cleavage, before dropping onto her lap.

As if the voice knew what had happened, when the next feed time came, attached to the front of the steel tray, but held outwards by perhaps a foot or two by chrome metal bars, were two glass milking cups, with hollow plastic tubes snaking from the bottom of the glass tubes, under the tray and into the wall. Above the tray, perhaps about two feet high, a metal rod protruded horizontally from the wall. There also seemed to be a dog clip attached to the end. Strangely, there was no food or water in the tray.

“Please align your body as shown in the video.”

Without the need for further prompting, Hazel stood up and watched the video screen that had appeared from behind a panel. It showed a computer generated naked woman. She was on all fours. She made a sweeping motion with her body, so that the back of her collar connected with the dog clip. This must be what the D ring is for, she mused. The woman then bent down, as a length of rope or cable extended from the metal protrusion, which was now attached to the collar. The woman then aligned her breasts over the cups, which then attached to her nipples somehow. An animation of food was then seen to drop into the tray or, as she now realized, trough.

Hazel sobbed. What was this bastard doing to her? She dreaded that she actually knew, but mentally didn’t want to go there. But what choice did she have? She could hold out for a while, but thirst and hunger would win in the end and, stifling further sobs, bent down onto all fours and positioned herself under the protrusion. At last, she heard a click and, as she bent down, felt a slight pull from an extendable lead of some sort, on her collar. The next step filled her heart with cold dread as she positioned her enlarged breasts over the two glass cups. Once in place, she heard a sucking sound and, her nipples were pulled down into the glass tubes. She thought that this would be it, but suction continued until her nipples were stretched and began to elongate within the jars. The suction held steady for a moment before she felt first one and then the other being sucked quite forcefully. Left, right, left, right the suction carried on relentlessly. It was so uncomfortable that she hadn’t even noticed that her trough was now full of food. After an eternity, she was released, and she crawled away from the milking station feeling utterly abused and humiliated. At last, Hazel finally sobbed herself to sleep, curled up in a ball in her fresh hay.

Another new routine was on introduced. She would have to eat all of the lemon grass that was presented before she could receive trail mix and water. This turned out to be about five trays, over a period of time. Also, she was not expected to latch onto the protrusion when eating grass. This only came out with the feeding trough. Also, her breasts were getting huge. She estimated that she was well into G territory, if not beyond. Her breasts would definitely get her onto the pages of certain magazines. They also hurt her back if she stood up for too long.

Now, when she was milked, her breasts were so full that they nearly touched the floor and Hazel noticed that, rather than the small trickle that she had produced before, she was now able to watch a steady stream of milk leaving her tits, disappearing under the metal tray via the clear plastic pipes. Her nipples, after so much abuse and stretching, were now huge, pointing firmly outwards, like two towers, by perhaps as much as an inch and a half. She had tried crying, shouting and beating the door. Nothing worked. Eventually the voice must have gotten tired of this, since the next change would take away her voice and complete her transformation.

“Please place the devise into your mouth and secure it using the Allen key provided, as shown in the video on the screen above the tray,” the voice intoned.

Getting up, she walked over to watch the video and was truly horrified, despite everything that had been done to her. The video showed the computer character placing some sort of dental device in her mouth, trapping her tongue and securing it with an Allen key, which locked the contraption to her rear molars.

“No way you bitch I am not doing it. Do you hear? Go screw yourself.”

“ZZZZ.”

The collar forcefully reminded her of her options, but not so severely as to knock her out. A definite first warning.

“Please place the devise into your mouth and secure it using the Allen key provided, as shown in the video on the screen above the tray. You now have two minutes to comply.”

Hazel didn’t need telling twice and, after some fumbling effort, had managed to fit the gag, clamping her tong to the bottom of her jaw with a hard plastic strip. She had turned the Allen key on each of the molars until the voice had told her to stop.

The next items to be fitted were some form of leg binders. She had to bend her legs, so that a rubber stopper was over the knee, with her leg bent all of the way over, so that her heal touched her ass. The leather straps of the binder were then fastened, using a set of buckles, which ran up her legs, encasing each in its own prison.

Hazel could now only move about her prison on all fours. She didn’t like it, but she could no longer complain about it, making primitive grunting or Argghhing noises. But she had learnt her lesson and, after five or so milking sessions, when the voice told her to remove items from a panel, having watched a video first, she complied quickly.

The first was a set of leggings, or rather half leggings. The crotch and ass were open, like suspender tights and, following the video, she managed to get them over her legs, so that the hooves built into the black and white spotted tights slipped over the rubber knee pads, locking in place with a metallic click.

The next item was to remove the cover from the sticky part of the base of the tail and push it firmly down over her tail bone. The tail, although a part of the tights, had a re-enforced section enabling the tail, when glued down, to stick out as a flexible, whippy appendage.

A set of horns was then fastened, via leather straps, onto her head. The buckles held the wide cow horns in place, so that the two foot long horns that extended from either side of her head, curving gently upwards, did not move. Fortunately, they were quite light, or possibly hollow, so it was not too uncomfortable.

A strange mask was next. She had to feed the lower, flexible, part under her top lip, so that the cows face, when pulled on, fitted smoothly over her own features. The half mask also had a leather, cow hide, section that covered the back of the head, over the horns, creating a balaclava, complete with cow ears that fitted over her own, which was then secured to the bottom of the mask as it hooked back on itself. After some fiddling, the ears covered her own. One of the ears, Hazel noticed, had a strange yellow plastic tag attached to it. It was quite sturdy, with numbers printed on it.

She could still eat like this. She could see out through the holes in the mask which molded to her face. Neither was her hearing impaired too much by the fake cow ears. She didn’t need a mirror to know that she now looked like a black and white cow. She gave her tail an experimental swish before moving on to the last bit of the costume. A set of hoof gloves.

Once she had placed these on her hands the voice told her to push her hooves into hoof shaped holes in the wall that had been revealed by another sliding panel, in front of her. As she did so her wrists seemed to be tugged by something being, she felt, wrapped around her wrists. She then felt her wrists becoming hot. But she dare not remove her hands unless she was shocked again.

Finally she was allowed to remove her hooves from the hole, which now sported a hard plastic shell around her wrists, which was covered with cowhide. After this, she was allowed to be milked and fed. It took her several feeds before she was able to eat her grass properly, or get her nipples aligned without a helping hand, although these had grown in length and protruded a full two inches from her breasts, making the job of lining up with the milking tubes easier. The feeding pattern also changed. The grass was left out and the voice encouraged her to graze regularly, as the grass was renewed frequently. Finally, after an eternity, she was able to feed and milk herself.

At last, after several milking sessions, which may have been days, weeks, or hours, (Hazel had given up on trying to measure time by this stage) she had obviously done enough to satisfy the voice. One morning, rather than going straight to her milking station, the other door opened and she was told to proceed into the next room for milking. Once complete she must leave via the far door. Hazel complied.

The fat, heavy breasted creature waddled comically out of the room. She was not surprised to find herself in the milking parlor that she had explored a lifetime ago. She waddled over to an empty stall, her pendulous breasts swinging beneath her to the sound of the ever present cow bell, as she ambled into the gated bay, positioning herself into the bay as she had been taught, before settling down to food and milking. She could not have imagined when, in her previous life, she had bent down into this position while exploring, she would soon find herself virtually naked and being milked for real, living the life of a cow.

Finally, after half an hour or so, Hazel was released and, as she backed out of the bay, she was surprised to see that the glass chamber which she had sworn was impossibly huge, had been filled to three quarters of the volume.

She was not surprised to see that the door to the old cell had closed and, as she walked through the metal gates, with the cow bell clanging with each swing of her body, which herded her towards the final door, she at last caught a sight of daylight.

She emerged into a field of lemon grass. It was enclosed on all sides by a high wall and a lean to shed had been constructed as a sort of shelter at the other end of her new home, complete with fresh straw. A trough stood near to this, against the wall, filled with water.

Hazel the cow waddled into her fields, resigned to her new life of eating grass and being milked. She would have slumped her shoulders, if she hadn’t been on all fours. At last she acknowledged her new position in the world and contented herself with a long, wailing

”Mooo”.

Kims Tail 8

Rubberwolf

2009 ©

Story Codes: f-self, nc. Bd

Kate stood on the landing pad watching the helicopter recede into the distance. It had, she considered, been a busy week. She had been surprised at some of the people who had chosen not to attend the funeral. But then again, maybe not. The past few days had been a media frenzy and she was glad to finally be away from the spotlight. Jim had known and, despite being a complete bastard in life, had thrown her a lifeline after his death. A retreat to gather her thoughts and slip away from public scrutiny. Literally an island in a sea of sharks, or at least paparazzi. Turning she walked towards the house as she considered what had just happened.

She had been contacted by the solicitor just after the funeral and, within a short time, she had found herself sitting in a small room watching the last will and testament of Jim Star. The rest of her recollections were a blur of activity, resulting in her being offloaded onto this island by Mr Prentice and his comically Barbiesque assistant, who pottered around on her five inch red heals, wearing a ridiculous mini skirted suite. Shaking her head Kate stepped into the large, converted farmhouse, picked up her shoulder bag from the pile just inside the door and then made her way inside to see the place that she would call home for the next few weeks.

Kim listened intently as the noise of the helicopter receded into the distance. She was not sure what these regular visits meant, but she did not make the same mistake as last time and kept her mouth firmly closed. This time she listened, making out the occasional voice as the wind gusted into her compound, before the sound of the helicopter re-starting smothered all other sounds. She had become good at listening and was getting quite good at filtering out the usual sounds of her pack. She was able to make out the sound of the waves at the bottom of the cliff, she could distinguish between different birds. She even fancied that she could hear the clang of a bell, but put this down to her own imagination.

Perhaps the helicopter bought the lawyer who was searching for her. It seemed more likely that her visitors were he jailers, coming to re-stock supplies. Until she knew for sure she would have to be careful. She must keep a low profile. Shaking herself free of her thoughts, Kim returned to the job at hand, or in this case paw. A satisfying groove had been worn into the plastic encasing her left wrist. Having examined the progress, Kim placed her wrist against the side of the dog kennel, certain that no cameras could penetrate her little home, before starting to rub her wrist against the smooth sides of her little house.

Kate spent a pleasant few days jogging around the island, relaxing on the patio or swimming in the pool. She was glad that she had bough her bathing suite, but with no witnesses, she occasionally indulged her naughty streak and bathed nude. She was a good swimmer and used the pool to tone her muscles as she put in length after length. Typically she would swim for fifty lengths before getting out and relaxing in the Jacuzzi.

The island, Kate found, was an unusual mix of Jims perversions and pleasures. She found a stables that was definitely evidence of Jims fondness for Pony girls. He had discovered this fetish while they had been married and Kate had spent a few summer evenings dressed in rubber underwear and high heals, with a but plug tail in her ass, pulling Jim along in a cart, similar to the one in the stables. But Jim would flit from one fancy to another. He had, at one time, tried to get her to act as a dog. She had tried it once and, at first it was quite fun. But one night left naked in the yard was enough to convince her that she liked her sexual experimentation to be accompanied with central heating.

She found other buildings with tantalizingly locked doors and, although she had made the effort to walk around them and try the doors on the other side, she could find no way in. Occasional sounds reached her from the other side of the walls. She heard dogs, but could not find out anything else about these mysterious buildings. Then, on the third day, she found something new.

Kate was exploring a new footpath that followed the base of the cliff, leading down to a small cove when, to her surprise, she found that the rock wall suddenly became a sheet of glass. Quite a large sheet of glass in fact, fitted into the rock. On the other side of the glass, slightly distorted by the thickness of the glass, Kate made out several fish swimming in the largest tank that she had seen outside of an aquarium. The armoured glass had to be at least thirty feet long and fifteen feet high. Kate was impressed and, after staring in awe at the spectacle for fifteen or twenty minutes, followed the path around the cliff, but could not find a back way into the water folly that Jim had created in one of his wilder moments. Dejected, and with a rumbling tummy, Kate made her way along the path, eventually finding herself at the boathouse. Shaking her head in wonder, Kate set off for the main house to get something to eat, determined to return later and solve the mystery.

After a satisfying baked potato with cheese and salad, Kate set off along towards the boathouse. Reaching the part where the path split towards the boat house, Kate turned right and headed along the path which ran around the island. About five hundred yards along the path, Kate found another, smaller, footpath that branched off into the trees. This had to be it. Excitedly, Kate stepped onto the path and headed further into the woods.

The sound of waves grew louder, the further along the path she wondered. Eventually, she turned a bend and found that the path ended at a squat, brick building nestled among the trees.

The path led to a door at the side of the building. Turning the handle, she was surprised to find that, unlike the other doors that she had tried, this one opened. Cautiously, she stepped into the dark interior, only realising her mistake moments before the door closed with an ominous thud behind her.

Kim had spent a pleasant few days lounging in the sun or playing with the dogs. She was not sure if she was being monitored, but the occasional sounds that she heard on the other side of the wall indicated that she was not alone. She therefore made every effort to give the appearance of a contented doggy for the cameras that she was sure were watching her, returning to her kennel occasionally for what appeared to be a mid day nap. In reality, Kim took this opportunity, as well as her evening confinement, to work on her wrist. But at last and to her total amazement, the hard work paid off. She had to stifle a cry of joy as, at long last, the plastic cuff gave way and she was able to pull the paw off of her hand. She almost cried as she painfully flexed her fingers, staring in wonder at her sweaty, red hand.

Despite her success, Kim knew that she was not out of the woods yet. She would need to replace the glove and carry on as normal for the time being. She still had the other glove and the shock collar to overcome yet. However, one indulgence that she would treat herself to tonight would be to take the lower half of her costume off, unbuckle her leg restraints and flex her legs. She prayed to god that she could straighten them and, when the time came, have enough use left in them to walk.

Kate cried as she was at last able to walk into the second room. After what felt like hours of resistance, Kate found herself naked, with all of her hair removed in that infernal shower. But that wasn’t the worst of it. Not only was she bald, but she was now bright orange.

“Please complete all tasks before leaving by the far door.”

Kate looked up and, sure enough, another door was set into the opposite wall. The room itself was empty apart from one wall, which had a small metal tray protruding from it and a cot bed set up in the corner. Walking closer to the tray, Kate saw that there were several small cubes deposited on one side of the tray, while the other contained a bowl of water.

“Please eat everything in the tray,” a voice commanded.

It was the same voice that she had heard in the shower room. Whipping her eyes with the back of her hand, Kate picked up one of the cubes and squeezed it between her fingers. It was hard. She held it up to her nose and sniffed. No obvious smell suggested that this was food, but did not suggest that it wasn’t and, after a moment, placed the cube in her mouth and chewed.

It was not her first choice of food, having a strange, subtle flavour that she could not place. But after chewing it for a few moments, she found that it began to break up in her mouth. Never the less, it was hard going and, after chewing vigorously, was eventually able to swallow the stuff. If all of the cubes were this tough, Kate thought that her jaw muscles would put a weight lifters to shame by the time she finished the plate. Experimentally, she took one of the cubes and dipped it in the water, letting it soak for several minutes before attempting to eat the next cube. As she had hoped, the water had made it more digestible, if not adding to the flavour. At last, after twenty minutes, her meal was finished and the tray retracted into the wall. With nothing better to do and with no fresh input from the voice, Kate settled onto the bed to get some rest. She had already explored all that the room had to offer and now, other than pacing around the room in an eternal circuit, she was just going to have to collect her thoughts and analyse the problem. She had tried both doors and, just like her earlier efforts in the shower room, the doors remained stubbornly closed.

However, after what felt like after several hours later, including a short nap, she was still no nearer to solving her problem. At least she would not starve. She had already consumed a second meal of the strange cubes. They didn’t taste any better than before, although she had gotten better at swallowing them. Although she was not sure what they were, she was fairly certain that the cubes were some sort of dried meat that needed to be soaked in water, sort of like a pot noodle.

Toilet facilities were provided by a hole in the floor in one corner of the room. A red down light conspicuously illuminated it. It was little more than an open drain, but it was either that or pee on the floor.

The next few sleep periods were the same. Wake up, eat, pace around the room for ages, eat and finally sleep. Finally, after Kate was sure that she would die of terminal boredom, she was awoken by a beeping noise, like an alarm clock. Staggering out of bed she noticed that a small door had opened in the wall.

“Please pick up the collar and place it around your neck,” the voice said.

Kate picked up the collar and examined it. It was bright orange in colour, just like her and had some form of electrical thing inside of it. It was made or coated with rubber, other than for metal studs on the inside. Kate suspected what these were for. But what choice did she have. Whoever, or whatever had imprisoned her had complete control of her environment. If it wanted to make her do what it wanted it could make life very uncomfortable. The collar, she realised, would achieve the same result, her compliance, but quicker than withdrawing privileges. After several moments considering her options and after several increasingly urgent prompts from the voice, Kate place the collar around her throat, hearing an audible click as the two halves joined.

Another panel in the wall opened.

“Please place the backpack on your back”, the voice demanded.

Looking into the space, Kate found a strange, hard orange backpack. It was smooth plastic apart from something on the side that looked like two circular fuel caps, next to the other.

“Please place the backpack on your back,” the voice urged.

Kate did not want to make the voice impatient, now that she was wearing a means of enforcement and so, with a little trepidation, she picked up the strange backpack and slipped the straps over her shoulders, adjusting their length and clipping another strap under her chest so that the pack was securely fastened.

“When you hear this sound, please stand on the black dot, facing in the same direction as the arrow.”

A new, long, beep sounded and a black dot suddenly appeared on the floor, with an arrow pointing along the wall on the floor in front of the dot.

“Please stand on the spot.”

Kate did not need to be told twice and so stood on the spot, which had been projected onto the floor from underneath a clear floor tile. It was made from transparent plastic of some sort. So, with her right side to the wall, facing the same direction as the arrow she stood as directed. A section of the wall slid back and another section of wall, as high as the backpack and about six inches wide extended from the wall like a rocket gantry from an old space movie. Even though she could see its progress, she still flinched a little as the arm connected and then locked itself to the backpack.

“Please remain in this position until you hear the tone again.”

Kate had little choice, as the strange rectangle did not flex in the slightest and was now attached firmly to the backpack. The only way to move would be to remove the backpack and she was not ready to test her theory about the collar yet. She therefore remained in position until she heard the buzzer.

When she heard the buzzer again, the strange rectangle retracted back into the wall, hidden again as a small panel slid over the hole.

“Thank you for your co-operation. Please remain in the backpack until instructed otherwise,” the voice demanded.

Kate decided to do as she was told, at least until she could think of a way out of this. She did not know what was happening, or why the voice wanted her to do these strange things. She had been trying to figure that out since she got hear. Jim had been weird when she was married to him. His fantasies had started to get really disturbing. This was obviously something from his imagination. But Jim was dead and she wasn’t sure why this was happening now, but this was the only game in town. Whatever was happening, she was probably going to have to ride it out until the end, whenever that is.

The following sleep periods again progressed in a new routine. This time, she would be woken by the dot sound and she would crawl out of bed and stand on the dot for half an hour. She would then have breakfast and loaf about her cell for several hours. Finally she would be fed and watered, before standing on the dot, attached to the wall and then she would be allowed to sleep, before being woken again. At first she had difficulty sleeping, but eventually she found a position that was the least uncomfortable, given the backpacks cumbersome design. Although it was not heavy, it was still fatiguing and the straps had begun to dig in more painfully. Eventually, she was awoken with new instructions.

“Please remove the backpack and place it in the slot provided.”

A new panel had revealed an empty space in the wall and, without any further urging, she removed the strange pack and placed it into the hole. Shortly after a panel slid across the space, closing the hole.

Kate was just turning away when a new panel opened.

“Please take out the items and fit them as instructed in the video.”

Another panel had slid open and a large TV screen was revealed. It appeared to show an animated woman stepping into a pair of pants. The pants seemed to a have rope or cable snaking down from the crotch. The ass and crotch area seemed to be quite bulky or padded. As she watched, another panel opened in the wall. Peering in Kate could see a pair of shorts, like the ones on the video, but they were made out of some shiny orange material. Kate reached in and removed the garment.

“Urgh, rubber,” she complained as she handled the strange shorts.

The rope turned out to be rubber tubing. That was not the only strange thing about the pants. There were hard tube like things inside the pants. Kate dropped the pants as though they had bitten her.

“Urgh. You have got to be kidding. You expect me to wear that? You have got to be out of your fucking mind,” she screamed at the room, whipping her hands down her legs as though she were trying to remove something foul from her hands.

“Please fit them as instructed in the video,” the voice insisted.

Kate had had enough. She was not going to play any more and so she turned around and made to walk off.

Zzzt.

The collar delivered a sharp electric shock to her neck, forcing her to cry out and fall to the floor.

“Please fit the items as instructed in the video,” the voice commanded.

“Fuck you,” she spat as she again got up and attempted to walk away.

Although she was expecting another shock, she was not expecting the severity. Pain erupted though her brain and forced her to the floor in a quivering heap. Even after the shocks had stopped her body continued to twitch.

“Please fit the items as instructed in the video.”

Kate staggered to her feet, knowing that further resistance was pointless. Bending down she picked up the pants and, after watching the video again, stepped into the rubber garment. Fortunately, the two intruders, which were made from hollow rubber tubes, had been lubricated with something like KY jell. The front one had a circular hole near the join in the pants. It was obvious, now that she examined the intruders, that this was some sort of waste removal.

Sighing with resignation, once she had pulled the pants up far enough that she could position the intruders, Kate pushed the rear and then front tubes into her holes, while pulling the pants up. They were quite high and encased her ass all the way up to her belly button. They were still uncomfortable. It was like wearing a tyre.

She walked about experimentally around before returning to the video. As she did so, she was very aware of the strange bulge underneath the pants. The bulge was like a chamber or bag stuck onto the bottom of her pants. It was stiff and blew air out of the bottom tube as she moved.

Once she had walked around, accompanied by whoopy cushion noises, she noticed that the video had changed again.

“Please take out the new backpack and wear it as instructed.”

Another panel had slid open and so with a sinking feeling, Kate edged towards the new hole in the wall.

Sure enough, another backpack was revealed. However, this was different to the one that she had worn earlier. It had flexible pipes sticking out of the top and converging on some sort of rubber pyramid with rubber straps dangling from it. Confused she removed the pack and hefted it onto her shoulder. It was heavier that the last pack. Much heavier. Looking at the video she noted that the strange pyramid fitted over her nose and was strapped in place by a strange head harness. Watching closely she slid her arms into the straps and fastened the backpack in to place. The nose mask was trickier, but eventually she had the thing strapped down tightly and found that she was able to breathe easily into the mask.

“Please attach the next garment, as instructed.”

Kate walked over to the wall as another space was revealed. Reaching in she removed the strange, bulky garment. It was massive and orange. Examining it she noticed that it was made from neoprene. However the outside of the garment had thousands of orange sequins attached to it, so that the whole dress shone and reflected like scales. Also, she noticed almost straight away, the front of the garment sported a thick, pearl coloured stripe that ran for almost the entire length. She was not sure what to make of it and so looked up to watch the video screen.

“Oh fuck,” she swore as she watched the image playing above her.

Kate watched in amazement as the cartoon woman pulled the front of the costume apart and stepped into it, smoothing her legs into the lower part of the garment and squeezing and contorting herself inside, so that her legs were joined into a single limb.

Sitting on the bed, Kate pulled the front zipper apart and stepped in. She sat on her bed and squeezed her legs together into the single opening, forcing her feet in as far as they would go so that, once she had shuffled and pulled, her legs were now a single, thick streamlined part of her body. She no longer had feet, but now sported a large, flat, triangular tail.

Kate stood up and tugged the garment up to her lower thighs before fitting the tube from the pants into a single opening at the front of the costume, that looked remarkably like a pussy. Once she had pulled the tube firmly onto the male fitting inside the costume, careful not to twist the tube, she pulled the thick neoprene up over her hips, all the time encouraged by the voice with helpful comments or advice.

The back of the costume sported a large hump, complete with a tall orange fin. She wrestled with this until the garment covered the backpack, which she now suspected of being some form of air tank. She found that there was a rectangular hole in the pack that corresponded with the place usually covered by the bit of wall that had attached itself to her old pack when she stood on the spot. She wasn’t sure what it was for, but a growing sense of dread started her arms shaking as she nervously continued to dress.

At last the garment was over her shoulders. Watching the video, she saw the animated woman pulling the rubber hood over her head. Kate had little choice and she knew it. Further resistance would result in more shocks and so she struggled to pull the hood over her head so that it covered her head all the way down, over her nose. Mirrored glass domes were fitted to the front of the mask, so that she could see out. She watched the video as the cartoon manoeuvred the bottom of the mask under her top lip. Struggling with the tightness of the rubber that formed the bottom of the neoprene mask, Kate was eventually able to pull the mask down and fit it to her head in the same manner as the video, being careful to attach an air hose, from the air tank into the suite itself. This would pump air into buoyancy chambers within the suit, as well as circulate air into the eye compartments.

The video showed the woman, now dressed as a large goldfish, slip her arms inside the garment and push her lower arms into two fins that would be level with her waist. This took some doing, but eventually she was able to push her hands and lower arms into the fins, which stuck comically out of the front of her costume. Kate was reminded of a childhood game, where her brothers would pretend to be Daleks, strutting about their garden with their arms held in a similar position at their waists, pointed straight ahead and accompanied by shrill cries of:

“Exterminate. Exterminate.”

To her surprise she found that, rather than the muffled mumbling she expected to hear, the voice was now louder than ever. Kate realised that the costume must have some sort of built in headphones.

Another bed like structure slid out of the wall. It was rounded and suggested that, if she were to lay on her front, she would be adequately supported. A central channel, a few inches wide, ran the length of this bed. Sure enough the video, prompted by the voice, demanded that she lay face down on the bed. This was easier said than done and Kate had to hop over, before turning around and sitting down. She then lay on her side before lifting her tail up and shuffling herself onto her front. At last she was in position.

Almost immediately she felt something grab the zipper and pull it up the garment until it was pulled snugly up her neck, just under her chin. The garment had been tight before. But now it was so tight that it clamped her upper arms firmly to her sides. She doubted that she would be able to move them away from her body, much less managed to pull her arms out of their fins. She then felt something else follow the same path as the zipper up her body. She didn’t know it yet, but this was a wide strip of neoprene that was now attached by wet suite repair glue, to the front of her costume, covering the zipper.

She lay there, motionless for an age before she was snapped out of her worried musings by the voice in her earphones.

“Shortly, this chamber will fill with water. You have been given all of the skills that you will need to survive in you new environment. The backpack is, in fact, a closed circuit electronic re-breather. It is the only thing that will stop you from drowning. When you hear the tone in your headphones, swim to the same spot as before so that your air and scrubbers can be recharged. Failure to do so may result in your death. Hand pumps have been built into your costume, where your hands are, so that you may pump air into buoyancy chambers within the costume. To increase your buoyancy, squeeze your right hand together until you are satisfied with your depth. To decrease your buoyancy, you may flood the flotation chambers by squeezing your left hand. You may still use the corner to expel waste. In order to clear out your waste disposal pipes you will need to squeeze your buttocks together. This will force water to purge the pipes and your ass and pussy of any remaining waste matter. Water is circulated throughout the chamber, so try to position yourself over the out pipe in the corner of the room, which is lit in red.”

This message was then repeated on a loop as water suddenly started to pour into the chamber from holes in the ceiling. Kate panicked as the water rose higher, shaking her head and thrashing about in order to keep her head above water for as long as possible, just like the floundering fish that she had become. But this was futile and soon she was covered completely. Kate floated off of the bench with the water and continued to rise, as the level grew higher. At last the room was full of water. Kate was relieved to find that she could breath through her nose. Experimentally she squeezed her left hand and was relieved to find that, after several pumps, she began to sink. Pumping her right hand, with some experimentation, she found a point where she neither floated nor sank.

Kate was not sure how long she spent learning to swim around in the room. When the tone sounded she found that she was able to position herself with little difficulty over the spot, pumping her ass and legs up and down in a very undignified manner that, none the less, moved the massive tail and propelled her through the water, guided by her fin arms. This spot was not in the same place a s the old. The rectangle that detached itself from the wall to replenish her air and filter was designed to join a horizontal backpack. Even so, this presented little difficulty. After all, her life depended upon her getting it right.

Occasionally, food chunks would be dropped from the ceiling and she would have to swim to intercept the cubes as they expanded with water and sunk. She, by necessity, became quite adept at intercepting the chunks before they floated to the bottom. The hood, that formed the fish head, was pointed and aerodynamic, which made swimming easier.

At last, after an eternity, the second door slid open and she swam though it into the next chamber. It was large. Huge. It seemed to be the inside of a hollowed out cave, lit with soft lights. She noted that coloured that green and red coloured lights had been used to highlight certain areas and, just like her cell, she assumed that these were air and waste stations. She could make out the tell tail silver of pipes and boxes attached to the roof of a cave. There was even a circle of waves, which may form a small pool at the top. She would investigate, that later. However, two things struggled for her attention at once. Firstly, she was not alone. Large fish swam around the interior of the tank. She thought they were cod. There may have been skate as well on the bottom. But the most impressive thing in this chamber was the large glass wall dominating the wall farthest from the door that she had emerged from. She swam over to it and peered out at the ocean scene beyond. She could see the cove that she had visited earlier. She also noted the small path, just on the other side of the glass, that she had followed around to the boathouse. She was in the fish tank that had captured her interest when she had first come to the island. She was an exhibit in Jims Stars impressive aquarium.

She would have cried, but she had shed all of her tears. Turning from the glass, she swam back into the cave to explore her new world.

Kims Tail 9

Rubberwolf

2009©

Storycodes f-self nc bd

Kim sat in the lawyers’ office watching her former husband on the TV before her.

“I am sorry that I had to do that to you Kim. I know that we never got that heavy when we were married. I just thought that you needed to explore you fetish side a bit more. You could be quite a kinky little bitch when you wanted to be. All you needed was someone to bring out your pervy side.” Jim smiled as the camera pulled away from his face to show that he was standing in riding gear with wooden panelling behind him.

Kim leaned back on the couch as she watched him, pulling her long black skirt up so that she could finger herself, gently pulling her knickers aside so that she could stroke her already wet pussy.

Jim walked over to a stable door and opened the top.

“You know what you want. You want to be my animal. You have always been my animal,” Jim stated into the cameral.

“Yes,” Kim moaned as she pulled her black stockinged legs up onto the coffee table, spreading her legs wide as she continued to finger herself, her four inch patent heals scrabbling for purchase as she brought herself closer to climax.

Unbuttoning her white blouse her left hand eased itself inside the garment, moving the lacy fabric of her bra aside she rubbed and teased her nipple.

“Come on girl. Come to your owner,” Jim cooed into the stable.

Kim continued to finger herself as a clip clopping sound from the stable, accompanied by the tinkle of bells, announced that the horse was coming to be petted. Kim stared transfixed as she played with herself and a woman came into view.

The woman in the stable wore a complicated bit and bridle, with pointy horse ears on top, and a set of blinkers. A large, black feather arching upwards from the leather band on the forehead completed this headpiece. She could only see the top of the woman, but she could just make out that she was wearing some sort of leather corset. The tinkling that she had heard came from tiny bells attached to the woman’s nipples. Her arms were also drawn back behind her, suggesting that they were bound.

“Be my beast Kim. Let me keep you as you know you want to be kept.”

Kim closed her eyes and moaned as she fingered herself closer and closer to climax.

“Yes,” she moaned. “Yes”.

She opened her eyes, but the lawyers’ office and TV screen had gone. She looked down at herself. Her naked breasts held two tiny bells, which jingled when she moved. They were lightly clamped in place and although uncomfortable, did not hurt. She panted slightly from the tightness of the unforgiving leather corset. She felt something rub between her legs. Bending over she could see that a leather strap ran from the front of the corset and pulled tightly through her shaved sex. She also noticed that she was wearing thigh length hoof boots, similar in design to the ones that she had seen in the stables on the island.

She tried to finger herself, but couldn’t. Twisting around she saw that her arms were encased in a single, black leather glove. She also noticed that she had a horse’s tail. It arched in a sharp curve, like an Arabian, or the horses on ancient Greek pottery. Wiggling her ass she saw her tail twitch and also felt the intruder move within her ass.

“Come on girl,” Jim said as he stepped into the stable and clipped a rope lead to her bridle.

Jim led his pony out, into the yard. Kim’s feet made a rhythmic clicking sound as she was led over to the cart. Jim reversed her, before fastening the arms of the small, two-wheeler onto the metal hoops on the side of her corset. Next he walked back to her, unclipping the rope from her bridle and attaching a set of reigns, which he pulled back to the cart.

Kim tested the bit in her mouth as she stamped her hoof impatiently. She felt the weight of the carriage shift as Jim sat down. Moments passed as Jim adjusted his position and settled the reigns in his hands.

Kim was growing restless and wanted to go now. As if she had commanded it, she felt the reigns tug at her bit and Jim make a clicking noise with his tongue.

Kim walked on and Jim encouraged her with the reigns until she was clear of the courtyard and had started onto the path that ran around the island. He then clicked his tongue and swished the reigns again. Kim started to jog; lifting her heals high as she pranced along, pulling the carriage easily as the leather strap began to massage her wet and swollen pussy.

Crack.

“Faster horse, faster.”

A whip landed across her ass and Kim sprinted off at a high pace, running for all she was worth, bells jingling as her tits bounced uncontrollably. The extra motion had made her clit start to rub the leather strap vigorously and Kim tried desperately to control the orgasm, lest she stumbles and her master beat her. But it was no good, she was too hot and her clit had been rubbed beyond her endurance.

She stumbled as an orgasm ripped through her and she shot awake, panting as she fingered herself with her free hand.

It took a moment for her to take in her surroundings, but she knew where she was. The confines of the kennel in the dawn light and the smell of dogs told her that she was on the island. But not for much longer.

She still wore some of the dog suit, only putting it on, along with the leg straps and paw glove when she ventured out during the day. At night, or when she came in to rest during the day, she could exercise her legs. She had feared that they might have atrophied, but she was able to do quite a few exercises and stretches now. At first she had screamed with the pain of unfamiliar movement after so long with her legs strapped to her thighs. But now she was confident that no lasting damage had been done. Looking down at her right paw, she saw that she had nearly rubbed though the plastic cuff. Not long now she smiled, as she placed her wrist against the side of the kennel and started to rub.

Diane Star stood watching the small helicopter recede from the Island and smiled. Picking up her bag she strode confidently over to the house and made herself at home. She fixed herself a cup of tea and contemplated her situation. As Jims last wife, the former nurse stood to gain millions. At least, that was the plan. All of his other wives had divorced him, so she should have been in the money, but it looked like Jim had some second thoughts about their treatment and the latest will reflected this.

Sipping her tea, she prepared for a quiet evening, but first she needed a bath. It had been a long day and she was tired.

The next day, Diane woke late. Putting on jeans and T-shirt she set off to walk around the island.

The sun rose higher and higher, but at last, having been out for breakfast and to greet her friends, Kim was able to return to her kennel and continue her work. It had seemed like hours, but eventually, she was through. Restraining a cry of triumph, Kim pulled the now loose paw glove off of her wrists. Although her hand was free, it took ten minutes before she was able to massage and twist enough life into her digits to get them to work.

As well as working on the right paw, Kim had also spent much of her evening worrying about the shock collar. Whoever ran this place could not suspect that she had freed herself or she would find herself shocked into submission. Instead, she had continued to pretend that she was still a prisoner while she worked out a solution.

That solution was to bite and worry the left glove, so that she was able to separate the plastic cuff from the actual glove. She used this strip of plastic to cover the metal contacts, whose position she was painfully aware of, inside the collar.

After several minutes deliberation, as she worked up the courage to test her plan, Kim got up and took off the dog suite. She could not do anything about the collar without tools. The same applied to the strange gag that imprisoned her tongue, but she could scale the compound walls now.

Prince watched as “Strangescent” the female emerged from her kennel. She was a strange bitch, seeming to come on heat at the oddest times and then going off of heat just as quickly. He had tried to mate her, as had other dogs, but she had made it plane by snarling and biting, as well as just sitting down, that she was not interested and so she was as yet without a mate. But Prince held out hope. She was a strange creature. Even stranger now that she stood up on two legs. Price trotted over to investigate.

She smelt the same, but she looked different on two legs. Even her face had changed. But she patted him absently as she ran towards his kennel and leapt onto the roof.

Prince wagged his tail. This was a good game. Then “Strangescent” stretched out her paws and pulled herself over the wall. Resting a moment, she then disappeared over the side of the wall.

Kim landed softly in bushes. Picking herself up she headed for the house. However, this time she did not rush in, but cautiously investigated, propping open doors with branches, bricks or anything else, so that she didn’t wonder into another trap. Fortunately she didn’t. However, she was able to find her way into one of the shower rooms, taking extra care to prop the door open. Now that company was not expected, she saw another door, set into the wall that had been left open. Tiles panelled to look like a continuous wall when the door was closed disguised it. Another tile had been left open, like the door. However, this contained a number pad, obviously a security lock. Creeping inside, she found herself in a storeroom, full of bags and chemical drums. There was also a stare case. Ascending, Kim found herself presented by several open containers. They held various types of animal food. Pipes led away from these and several open bags proclaimed that someone had carried feedbags up here and emptied them into the drums. She remembered the guttering that had emptied dog food into her bowl. But this was not dog food. It was something else. Picking up a handful she sniffed. A faint beefy aroma said it was food, but not what kind.

The implication was obvious. She might not be the only captive. Retracing her steps and careful to remove any trace of herself, she stepped outside and made her way to the main house. She might be able to find a ladder, either in the house or the outbuildings that would allow her to see over the walls.

This was the first time that she had been into the house in ages, but she had learned her lesson and approached quietly, but there was no one home. She found some tools in the house, in a cupboard under the stairs and was at last able to undo the Allen key bolt that trapped her tongue. Pulling the plastic mouthpiece out, she flexed her tongue experimentally.

Next, she used an old hack saw blade to cut away the collar. It was slow work and she nicked herself a few times, but eventually the collar fell away from her neck, dropping like a discarded toy at her feet. Bending down she picked up the collar and replaced the tools. She would not tip her hand yet and if she carelessly left evidence of herself around, she might find herself back in the yard.

Carefully, she explored the house. Luckily she found another hidden door left open. Stepping inside, careful to wedge it open with a book from the study, she crept inside.

It was an office of some sort. Banks of monitors set against one wall showed different views of the island. She made out her yard, but there was also a picture of another yard, with another creature shuffling about, eating grass. At first, because of the horns and tail, she thought it was a cow, but the two massive breasts swaying from the chest quickly drew her to the right conclusion. It was another woman. Kim was about to run and rescue the woman, but something stopped her. She checked the rest of the monitors. She saw another picture of her compound, the dairy, the stables and an aquarium. Other monitors were blank. She also saw the house and the wooded trails.

A computer sat in the corner and Kim turned it on. After loading, it prompted her for a password. A quick search of the desk found a post it note stuck underneath a drawer in the desk with the username and password written on it. She quickly typed this in and began to explore the files.

Diane walked along the path until she came to the boathouse. She strode purposefully down to the wooden structure and along the peer. Gazing out to sea for several moments, she turned on her heal and walked along the path under the cliff. At last the fish tank came into view and Diane stood admiring the strange exotic fish, especially the large orange one, before the sound of a motorboat attracted her attention. Waving gaily as she strode off, Diane did not see as the orange fish battered itself against the glass in an effort to get her attention.

Standing on the jetty, she gazed out as the small craft cleared the headland and made its way towards her.

Penny stood at the wheel guiding the launch confidently alongside the ladder. Tying off the boat to mooring points, she waved at Diane as she leant over the side.

“Give a hand here,” she called up. “I am not shifting these bloody things by myself”.

Penny had changed since Diane had seen her in the helicopter. She was now dressed in jeans and walking boots, a far cry from the mini skirt and impossible heals she had giggled around Mr Prentices office in. Her voice was also less bubbly. In fact, apart from the ten years that separated them, the two women looked quite similar now.

“How are things with Prentice?”

“Bloody hard work. You would not believe what an asshole he can be. He had me kneeling under the desk the other day, giving him a blow job while he was talking to clients.”

“Yes, but think of the money dear,” Diane soothed as she jumped down from the ladder and embraced the other woman, giving her a long and passionate kiss. “If it wasn’t for you, we wouldn’t have found out about the second reading, or the way Jim had set up the will. You are so valuable where you are. But it won’t be for much longer. Once the second reading is out of the way we can live like queens.”

Diane mused to herself. “At least I can, but I am sure that you will make a lovely unicorn”.

Kissing the woman passionately, while squeezing her ass, Diane schemed and plotted. At last they both went to the back of the boat and picked up the sacks of animal food, dumping them onto the quay, before finally loading them onto a pull along trolley that Diane bought from the boat house and headed back to the main house.

“Prentice still clueless?” Diane asked.

“He is since I started monitoring the radio for him. He believes that the other wives are off island hopping in Jims boat, only coming back to re-stock. Stupid sod will believe anything, especially when I bend over his desk and make sure he gets a face full of cleavage.”

“You’re doing a wonderful job,” Diane cooed.

Kim had already heard enough. Especially now that she had heard Diane speak. It was amazing how much she sounded like Joanna Lumbley. When the helicopter first arrived she had been tempted to run over, but she had not gotten this far by taking chances and so had lain in wait. The only risk that she had run was to cover herself with an old dress that she had found in one of the wardrobes, but she did not think that the garment would be missed. She had also taken precautions and had formulated a plan. All that was needed was for her to get a few things ready before the two women returned to the house. Hurrying along the path, careful not to be seen, she felt that she had perhaps half an hour before the women returned with the trolley full of sacks.

“This should be the last one then,” Penny panted as she hauled the cart, as Dianne pushed from behind.

“Yes. The ex wives are safely taken care of. There is just his illegitimate daughter to dispose of and she won’t be back from holiday for another month, so once we have set up the stable for her, and made sure that she is monitored during her stay, then we can pretty much leave the feeding stations to do their work. Perhaps visit once per month.”

“Thank god for that,” Penny mouthed as the house finally came into view.

Once they had parked the trolley, Penny gathered a few things from the outbuildings before heading off to the stable area. Dianne grabbed a sack of feed and hefted it onto her shoulder. She moved more cautiously now, but was still able to cover the distance fairly easily, without having to drop the sack. Walking into the central shower room she noted that the storeroom door was locked. Dropping the sack she approached the wall and opened the security panel. Lights blinked on as the outside door closed and she keyed in the six-digit number.

“That’s strange,” she thought. She finished keying in the number and pressed the green button.

The door did not open.

Cursing, Dianne tried the number again, but with no joy. Moving briskly over to the outside door, she opened the tile next to it and keyed in the number.

“Penny. The codes not working. Penny can you open the door?”

No response. Dianne paced up and down before kicking the door. She tried the number again, taking the sheet of paper out of her pocket with the code written on it, so that she could be certain she was putting the right number in. Even after taking this much care, she found that the number did not work.

Dianne called for perhaps an hour without any form of response from the outside. Horse from the effort of calling, Dianne let out a sob and sat down. There was only one explanation. Penny had betrayed her. She did not know how she thought she could make any money from this situation, unless she had been in contact with one of the other wives and got a higher cut. But she still needed one of the wives in order to claim the money. However, that was irrelevant. The fact remained that Penny thought she could and that left her trapped in the shower room.

“Penny. Let me out. I will give you a higher share all right? We don’t have to do this. I wouldn’t cheat you. You must know that right?”

Silence greeted her, but after a few moments the message played again.

Sitting down on the floor, sobbing, she tried to reason a way out of her predicament. But nothing came to mind. It took another hour of pounding on the door and shouting before she eventually relented. Whatever Penny had in mind, she could not do anything about it. The only option was to play this through and so, reluctantly, Dianne undressed as instructed, placing her garments onto the container on the side, lathering the skin die all over her body and then, after fifteen minutes, showering the muck off.

She was not surprised to see all of her hair pooled at her feet, but it was still shocking enough to elicit a gasp from her. If this had not, then the bright red that she had become would certainly have done it.

“Penny you bitch. Not that one. You are not doing that to me are you?” Dianne pleaded, her earlier confidence eroding rapidly as her situation grew more and more desperate.”

Penny had finished preparing the shower room next to the stables and had nearly finished with the second room. All that needed to be done was to fill the hopper in the attic room with horse food. She had bought a sack from the wagon before she started this job. It had taken longer than she thought, but soon she would be able to return to the mainland and await developments.

Bending down she grabbed the sack by the corners and then knelt down to pull it up. Something, some sound or sixth sense made her turn around, just in time to see the full water bucket arc towards her.

The impact knocked her clear over the feedbag and into the stable wall. She never saw who had wielded the bucket. She would not see anything for over twenty minutes, as she lay unconscious on the cobbled floor.

Kim walked over to the prone woman, looking down contemptuously. Kim had been through a great deal and someone who did not know her story would be shocked at the sight of the bedraggled woman, with orange skin and bedraggled, sweat soaked hair. They would not have understood why, after so many months without human conversation, the first words that she spoke held a very special meaning for her.

Kim leant over and looked at the woman who had helped imprison her.

“Woof,” she said.

She then bent down and picked Penny up in a fireman’s lift and carried her to another shower room that she had prepared, in true Blue Peter fashion, earlier.

Unlike Diane, due to the violent way she found herself in the shower room, Penny soon understood her situation and, head still throbbing from her recent injury, she did not fight the inevitable. She assumed that, for whatever reason, Diane had decided that she was no longer needed. Looking down at herself, she sighed as she stepped out of the shower and noted the rich rosewood brown that she had become. She didn’t even hear the last instruction, which she knew by heart, as she stepped through the door that would reveal her fate.

Diane was less philosophical. She spent days refusing to eat the serial and nuts that she was given, but eventually she relented. She was starting to accept her role. That is until she herd her own voice demand that she eat what was in the new feed tray.

Getting out of her cot, Diane walked over to a small pocket that had appeared in the far wall. It contained a plastic pot with a lid. Taking the lid off, Diane nearly gagged when she saw the contents. Worms. Dozens and dozens of crawling, slimy worms.

Diane dropped the container and stepped back, her mouth open in shock as she brought her hands to her mouth.

“No, no, no, no, no,” she pleaded.

But her voice taunted her by repeating the instructions. She would not do that. She could not do that. Stepping away from the wiggling mass that squirmed away from the fallen container, Diane retreated to her cot, mumbling her denial.

After two days, Diane still sat in the cot. She had had no food or drink in that time. Her voice had continued with its demand. Every five minutes the voice had repeated and Diane had stared at the worms. Some had died after the first day. Some still moved on the concrete floor. But two days was a long time. The human body can survive for two weeks without food. If you have a lot of fat and just take supplements, it may be years before you need to eat. But water is a different matter and Diane was painfully aware of just how precious a commodity water could be. Licking her dry, parched lips, she stared at the worms, fighting to find any other solution. But this was a battle she had already lost. As soon as she had started to think about the possibility of eating the worms, it was just a matter of when, rather than if.

Diane stared at the worm that had crawled nearest to her. It was less mobile now, attempting to find shelter form the light, which threatened to dry it out. But there was no shelter and no hiding place either, as Diane, her resolve broken, leapt from the cot and snatched up the morsel. She did not chew. She tried not to wretch, but she did eat the worm. Fighting to keep it down, she then, once her stomach had settled, walked over to the next worm and the next and the next, until her voice stopped talking and fresh food and water was dispensed.

Diane sat in the feeding corner, eating corn and nuts staring numbly at the empty plastic pot on the floor. Two days, she now knew. Two days was all it took to break the will of a human being. Somebody had once said that civilization was only two square meals away from anarchy. Diane now new that civilization might take two meals, but humanity took only two days. Two days after this, she was given a tongue gag to fit, using an Allen key.

Penny was having a slightly smoother transition into her new role. Thankfully, she did not have to eat worms, just grain, grasses and nuts. There were several things that she could become and she spent many hours debating with herself, but she accepted that whatever was going to happen was beyond her control. Her life was no longer her own and the sooner she accepted that, the easier it would be for her. She therefore obeyed Diane’s voice without question.

Both women followed a routine that they had themselves devised. When Jim had first thought of the idea of a holiday island for animal enthusiasts, Diane had been sceptical. He was not very ill at that stage, being in the initial stages. But he wanted to taste everything that life still had to offer and the idea of submissive women paying to be turned into an animal and then living as such for up to three months was not an idea that Diane thought could work. But then Diane had asked Penny to work at Jim’s solicitors and had learned of the details of the will. After the initial shock, an idea came to her and the more she thought about it the more she liked it. She could have all of the money. All that she needed to do was make sure that nobody else showed up for the second reading. She therefore encouraged Jim with his island project. But while Jim had paying guests in mind, Diane had other ideas. Now she could only curse as she found herself in a prison of her own making.

Finally, after worms, nuts and dried fruit and crackers to eat, her routine changed. The room dispensed a belt. But it was a strange belt. She fastened it around her waist and looked at the two cuffs that were attached to the front. Squatting down, Diane attached the cuffs to her legs, so that she was bent over in a squatting position.

In addition to the fact that she could only hobble about in a strange, squat stance, the room set her tasks. Now, instead of feeding her by draws, the room lowered smooth planks to act as ramps and walkways, placing her food on platforms several feet above the ground and forcing her to negotiate these obstacles in order to gain food. However, the room was not finished with her and, after she had mastered the skills necessary to walk these strange paths, the room spoke again.

“Please dress in the costume as directed by the video screen.”

A section of the wall slid back to reveal a large TV screen. An animated woman, in a similar position to her, manoeuvred her legs into the legs of the costume.

So there it was. This was what she had been trained to become. She did not cry or resist in any way. She simply hobbled over to the open drawer and took out the garment, before shuffling back to her cot to begin working her lower legs into the clawed, orange, rubber feet. Once these were in place she manoeuvred the lower part of her costume over her ass. Although her privates were open to the elements, a long feathery tail that fanned out in a triangle behind her covered her ass.

Next she took the beak that she had bought and fitted it to the front of her face so that the hard plastic covered her nose and sat behind her teeth, while the lower part, which also fitted over her teeth, covered her lower jaw. She adjusted the straps so that her new beak was tightly attached to her face before pulling the rest of the garment up over her back and pulled the hood over the top of her head so that a plume of feathers stood up like a proud Mohawk on top of her head. She pulled the bottom of the hood under her chin, covering the straps from her beak and secured it tightly with the sticky material.

Next, as the video instructed, she pulled her arms into the tight spaces in the wings, folding them back on themselves so that her hands touched her shoulders and pulling and squirming until her arms were as securely fixed in as they could be.

The video then directed her over to a small bench that had appeared in the wall. Positioning the front of her body over a hole in the bench, the zipper that was attached to the lower half of the chest was fed onto a hook like attachment. As she had expected, she was not surprised to find the costume tightening around her as the zipper was pulled tightly up to her neck, stopping just under her chin and then sealed with a glued flap.

The bird that was once Diane Star stretched in her new persona, adjusting herself to the feel of the costume and ironing out the wrinkles. At first glance, a visitor would only see a very large red bird, with a high plume and parrots curved beak. However, the forward facing human eyes might give them pause. The two, very female, double D breasts which poked lewdly out of two holes in the front of the costume, giving a comical, harpyesque appearance, would have shown the error of that first misconception.

Finally the door opened and Diane hobbled out into her new life.

Penny had already found her new role. She had staggered out into the woods from an underground tunnel. The woods were quite large and she was given free reign of them. She soon found her feeding station, which consisted of a water trough and a grain tray, as well as a lean to shelter, which she found on the edge of a clearing in the middle of the woods.

She walked over to her new home on strange legs which, due to a strange set of metal leg braces, meant that she could not bend her upper legs into an upright position. Her hoofed legs and arms made a gentle clopping noise as she manoeuvred herself around her new home. The brown suite would keep her warm, although the fluffy tail added nothing to her situation, nor did the deer mask that she now wore. Penny could bend her forelegs in more places than a human could normally, due to the articulation of the front hooves via a set of wires, as her arms had been extended via an additional length of metal under the costume. This was necessary to enable her to keep her back level. But it still took some getting used to. Even so, Penny mused, there were worse fates than a fluffy tailed deer. Much worse.

Diane stepped into her new home. It was a large birdcage. It looked out, via stout iron bars, onto the living room of the main house. She hopped over to the edge of her cage, accompanied by the sound of clapping and whistling. As she approached the bars she knew who had done this and why. There, sitting in the living room, watching her entrance and sipping Champaign, were Kim, Hazel and Kate. They had found the solvent, which would remove the skin colours that had coloured their skins for some months. They looked nearly the same, although Hazel’s breasts were bigger. They also looked smug. The old Dianne would have had a thing or two to say about that look. But the bird that was now Diane simply hopped up onto one of the walkways in order to explore her new world. She thought that she could see a large mirror. OK, it had a bell underneath it, but it was still a mirror and she wanted to see how she looked as a bright red parrot.

Epilogue – 6 Months Later

Hazel and Kate sat in the living room drinking coffee and reflecting on their new lives. They had arrived in time for the second video reading of the will. Jim had been unsure, after the way he had treated his wives, if they would actually want his money. The second will therefore stated that they could refuse, either in person or by not showing up at all. In that event the money would be shared equally amongst those who did.

Mr Prentice, although surprised that his last wife did not want any of the Star fortune, but those were the terms of the will and so she did not receive her share. He was still put out about the fact that his assistant had left without saying a word, but that was life. At least the new assistant can type.

Hazel patted the head of the new dog that sat at her feet. Diane had made a reasonable parrot, but clearing the cage out was a big chore. She had only come out of puppy school recently and this was her first time out of the compound. Kim liked her as a dog. She said if was fitting. Unlike Kim, Diane was not used to dogs and had been intimidated by them when they had made advances. So this time in the house was a real show of mercy and she knew it. Anyway, she seemed to like being a housedog and made all of the appropriate noises and actions when they instructed her to sit and beg.

In fact, Diane’s conversion had been so successful, that they had decided to try Penny in a new role. There had been some debate regarding the nature of her next conversion. Hazel had wanted her to try being a cow for three months. But in the end they had decided that they had an entire zoo to work through in the costume room and were quite looking forward to putting her through her paces.

A clumping noise from the hall announced that Kim was nearly ready and both women turned.

Kim stood in the doorway holding a bundle of leather. She had nearly finished dressing in her pony girl outfit. Although she had managed to get the boots on, as well as the bells, some of the outfit was proving tricky.

“Can someone give me a hand with this stuff?” she asked.

“Sure,” Hazel smiled as she stood up.

She did not understand why Kim had taken to being a ponygirl whenever she was at the island. But she had said that she had finally understood that Jim had been right about her. Jim had thought she wanted to be dominated in his dungeon, but this was what she really wanted. It had taken her time as a dog to realise it. Hazel had to admit that she did look good and if this is what it took to put her experience behind her that was her business.

Hazel helped Kim tighten her corset and then strapped her into her single leather glove, which pinned her arms behind her. Finally, she attached the bit and bridle, straightening the feather plume that adorned her forehead. Whinnying playfully Kim trotted out into the yard.

Kim eased herself backwards onto the shafts of the two-seated gig. She looked proudly at the fine tail that was plugged into her ass. It was a great tail and it swished sexily as her ass swayed from the motion imposed on it by the high-healed hoof boots. Kim was very proud of this particular tail. Although it seemed at odds with her hair colour, Kim would not change it for the world, since it was exactly the same colour as Diane’s hair used to be. In fact she had made the tail out of the hair that she had collected from the shower room after Diane had gone on to her training.

Hazel finished locking the shafts to the two rings at either side of Kim’s corset just as Kate emerged from the house carrying the tranquilliser guns. Both women stepped into the gig and Hazel, taking the reigns clicked her teeth as she swished the reigns. Penny smiled as she cradled the guns from her seat and the gig set off down the path towards the woods leaving Fluffy chained to her kennel in the yard. Today was going to be fun. It wasn’t everyday that you could go deer hunting on your own private island and the three ex Mrs Stars were going to make the most of it.

End

Kims Tail

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