Monday, 13 February 2012

Chapter 1. A Day in the Life

The young girl was startled by the sudden bark, almost upsetting the wicker basket of eggs she carried. She quickly recovered her composure, closed the large wooden door and turned back to the wide foyer. She glanced briefly at the large wolfhound and was immediately met with a second strident bark. She jumped, spurred into action by the commanding tone and hurriedly placed her basket in the corner by the door.

In one swift motion she lifted the hem of her dull grey pinafore over her hips. She folded the rough material, pulling it firmly against the thick leather belt that was fastened tightly about her slim waist. Beneath the spartan garment she was naked, her smooth young flesh now exposed below the hip. She sank to the floor with practiced ease, coming to rest on her hands and knees, her bare, white bottom thrust enticingly into the air. The eager wolfhound wasted no time, bounding towards the prone girl, tongue lolling from a mouth opened in a manic grin. In moments he was atop her crouched form, hips thrusting manically in the space between the two bodies.

The young girl moved obediently backward, slowly pushing her buttocks against the thrusting hips. She felt the hot, hairy body make contact with the soft mounds of her bottom, arching her back and improving her position. She shifted her weight, constantly accommodating for the scrambling hound on her back, and hung her head, waiting. She felt the dog thrusting frantically against her, moist lips parting in anticipation of the inevitable.

She grunted, a deep primal sound, as penetration was made. The instant he was inside her, the dog thrust deeper, his front paws locking around the petite girl’s shoulders. She bore the weight of the large dog, moaning as the cock expanded inside her. In seconds she was full, grunting quietly with each thrust. Her pussy felt as if it was on fire, the heat of the dog’s thick shaft filling every inch of her, pushing against the sensitive vaginal walls. Her right arm buckled and she almost lost her balance as the pressure just inside the entrance to her pussy increased. She knew the signs and tensed her body, readying herself for what was to come. Moments later she was flooded with the scalding ejaculate of the panting wolfhound, the thin liquid filling her as spurt after spurt erupted from the thick shaft.

“Bonnie! In the foyer? Mark your board when you are done.”
“Sorry Mistress,” the young girl whispered, her head hung in shame. She knew better but Rex had been insistent. She knew better than to ignore a second command. She hadn’t had any choice, but that was no excuse. A bitch obeyed, any repercussions were something she just had to deal with.

She heard the Mistress leave the foyer and breathed a sigh of relief. The cool tiles were hard under her knees but she knew she would be here for a while. She shifted her weight and reached back to stroke the dog’s flank, whining plaintively as she did so. She knew Rex liked that after he came and she tried to make him as comfortable as she could while she waited for the large knot at the base of his cock to decrease enough in size to slip from her tight pussy. The hot cum of the dog was cooling to her body temperature and she was sure it would be a larger volume than normal. Rex had not taken her for two days and he always came more intensely after a brief hiatus.

Bonnie raised her head and kissed the paw that rested on her right shoulder, doing her best to calm her lover. She had other duties to perform and Chef would not be pleased if she was late with the eggs. She mouthed nonsensical sounds to the panting wolfhound, patting his side and enjoying the quiet time with him. She had slept outside last night and had felt the loss of her companions the whole night through. Her day was just starting and if she did not want to spend another night outdoors she would need to get moving.

The young girl began with a series of small, high-pitched yips before slowly edging her body forward. Rex came with her, growling his displeasure at being disturbed. Bonnie steeled herself but persisted, sensing the time was near when she could be safely parted. The pressure in her pussy was intense but she could feel the slick shaft move inside her.

She tensed her stomach and grunted loudly as the bright red cock burst from her pussy with a loud slurping pop. Watery liquid gushed from her sex, the furious tensing of her muscles unable to prevent the loss of much of the dog’s cum. She was squatting as soon as she was able, her hand cupped between her legs to catch the watery ejaculate. If she had been better prepared she could have had her bowl, the clean-up would take much longer now and she was sure to be punished.

There was nothing she could do, so instead of wasting time on self-recrimination, she set to work. Once her cupped palm had collected as much of the cum as it could, she lifted it carefully to her mouth and slurped the warm liquid. She looked to Rex who stood patiently awaiting her attention and hurriedly brought her other hand to her mouth from its position beneath her oozing pussy.

As she watched her pussy drip clear liquid into her cupped hand, her left crept slowly across her belly. She reached out two fingers and caressed the thick black tattoo that adorned the smooth skin above her sodden cleft. A large bold paw-print marked her white skin. Her fingers touched each black pad in turn as she looked sheepishly around the foyer. She had received her stamp of service on her first day and now she could barely remember a time when she had not borne the mark of her status.

She emptied her hand for a second time before crawling to the waiting canine, leaning low under his body to take his thick cock in her mouth. She slid the hot shaft deep inside her, swirling her tongue around its slick surface. She could feel the cock continue to spurt and pushed her head forward, forcing the cock deep into her throat. She opened wider, wriggling her tongue along the shaft and as she enveloped the swollen member, her lips resting against the thick knot at its base.

Bonnie deepthroated the dog for as long as she dared, knowing that he would continue to leak precious nectar for some time yet. She lamented that she could not stay and attend to him as she should, but Rex would be happy enough to clean the rest. She knelt back and surveyed the scene of the recent rutting, noting the small puddle of liquid glistening in the centre of the tiles. She crawled over and began immediately to lick the spilled cum from the floor. She raised her ass high into the air, hoping that Rex was in the mood. She moaned gratefully when she felt the incredibly moist tongue lap at her still oozing cleft.

As she licked the floor clean, the dog did the same for her sex, the long malleable tongue, slipping past her plump lips to seek the salty moisture. Bonnie enjoyed  the same flavour, a taste that she had despised at first but had quickly learnt to savour. She blushed as she remembered her first encounter, the way she had gagged on the terribly salty liquid. Looking back she couldn’t imagine her behaviour had ever been so bad.

Rex tired of her pussy before she had finished cleaning the floor but it was just as well. It was not her time to come. Sixteen days, she lamented. She had missed her opportunity last month as the Mistress had been away and she had been confined. She could only hope that her chance would come this month. She shouldn’t waste her time on such thoughts she admonished. She was lucky to be allowed such an opportunity but she was sure to lose it if such selfish thoughts caused her to fail in her duty.

The floor clean, Bonnie sat back on her haunches and whined, a short plaintive cry. She looked at Rex, stuck out her tongue and panted. She made sure to keep her hands behind her back and waited hopefully. A small thrill ran through her as the dog trotted slowly towards her, his still-swollen member bouncing beneath his belly.

His cock was so beautiful thought Bonnie: the way it tapered to a small tip on the underside, the delicate hole through which she was rewarded with such sweet sustenance, the way it widened past the tip, only to narrow before reaching the incredibly wide knot at its base. It was dark in colour, the deep red worked through with striations of swirling strands of grey. She wanted to take it once again in her mouth and collect the small drips she could see falling from its tip with each step.

Rex came close to the kneeling girl and proceeded to lick her open mouth, tongue sliding across tongue. Bonnie’s chest tightened at the rising emotions within her. She had been worried that the hurried end to their lovemaking might have upset the dog, but he had kissed her – all was forgiven.

Her spirits buoyed by the malleable tongue lapping at her open mouth Bonnie rose to her feet, licking her lips as she did so. The young girl straightened out her dress, pulling the rough material over her hips and past her buttocks. She looked down her body, smoothing out the crumpled bodice of the near shapeless pinafore and ensuring the hem came halfway to her knees. She would be punished if her uniform was amiss and she could not afford that, not now, not today.

She collected the basket of eggs and hurried to the kitchen, looking back wistfully at the large grey dog. He was lying on the floor licking at his tumescent cock. She had been forgotten but Bonnie did not mind. She had served and she could ask for no more.

*  *  *  *  *

“You’re late.”

Bonnie hung her head at the bellowed admonishment, knowing she had no excuse and no reason to speak. She received the scolding with good grace, standing obediently, hands behind her back, the small basket of eggs safely on the small bench before her. She had been forced to wait five minutes outside the kitchen. Chef has seen her arrive but had been busy and had refused to acknowledge her presence. She was not allowed in the kitchen and in many ways she was glad. Chef was an imposing figure, six feet tall, lean but muscled, his short cropped black hair and angular face only adding to the severity of his demeanour.

As she waited she had felt the remnants of Rex’s cum leak down her thighs. There was nothing she could do. She followed her regime each day, practicing her exercises and she knew her pussy was tight but there was nothing she could do to prevent the liquid draining between her labia. She begged for the flow to stop. If it ran past the hem of her pinafore she would be punished. She willed it to dry even though she knew such thoughts were foolish.

She had been too eager to deliver the eggs and now it was going to cost her. She should have known better but she was too stupid. Now she stared at the floor, accepting the anger of the chef. She watched through lidded eyes as he broke off his string of invective and retrieved a large wooden spoon from the kitchen.

“Three on each, and a mark,” he commanded, slapping the heavy wooden implement into his hand.

Bonnie swallowed nervously and began unbuttoning her dress. The fastenings that ran from the high neck of the pinafore to the thick belt at her waist were simple clipped buttons and she had them popped open and her breasts bared in the blink of an eye. She quickly replaced her hands behind her back and thrust her chest forward, exposing her firm bosom to the coming punishment.

Chef wasted no time, the flat of the spoon smacking into her right breast the moment she was in position. Bonnie remained still, the only outward sign of the sudden pain, a slight parting of her lips. Her full breasts bounced as the heavy spoon fell again and again, the tender mounds immediately darkening in colour.

By the third strike, tiny moans were escaping the young girl. Her breasts were sent swinging violently with each blow but she knew better than to move or make too much noise. Either action was deemed to be a complaint, something she was not permitted. The final blow landed in the centre of her left breast, the small pink bud at its tip resounding with agony. Chef always ended with a strike to her nipple. She had counted the strokes and had known it was coming but still she had not been ready.

The moment the last stroke impacted her flesh, flattening her tender breast against her ribcage, Chef walked back into the kitchen, leaving the young girl standing alone in the anteroom. Bonnie hurriedly buttoned her pinafore, noting the dark crimson patches on her breasts before she hid them from view. She would be punished if the Mistress caught her exposing her body.

Her nudity covered, the young girl walked briskly down the hall, through a connecting corridor and down a short flight of stairs onto the lowest level of the house. This was the servants level and her room was at the very back of the house. She moved with purpose down the narrow hallway, through the open arch and into the spartan room designated as her living quarters.

The room was not truly hers, but it was all she had. Her small corner contained a threadbare blanket, discarded from any serious use many years ago, a small metal bowl, her name in bold black letters upon the side, and her cage. On the wall above her cage perched her board, a small white surface a foot square, a tiny marker pen dangling from one corner.

There were already two black marks upon the board and she picked up the pen and added two more to her tally. It had only been two days since her last punishment, which meant five more to go before another was scheduled. She hadn’t had this many marks for a long time. She didn’t think she had been particularly naughty, but her behaviour was obviously bad. It was something she would have to work on if she was to serve properly.

Bonnie looked down between her legs and was relieved that the cum Rex had deposited inside her had not slid too far down her leg. She was ever conscious of the sticky residue on her labia and thighs but dared not clean it now. Her bath would not come until the end of the day but hopefully Rex or Hannibal could clean her before then.

The young girl looked around the rest of the room. She had not been allowed to sleep inside last night and hadn’t had the chance to tidy up. The two large, lavish beds that ran along the length of the far wall were covered with soft blankets, strewn about in a dishevelled mess. The mattress of Hannibal’s bed was half on the floor.

Bonnie smiled as she moved to tidy the mess, Hannibal was such a troublemaker. He would sleep all night and then pull his bed apart when he woke up. She often thought he did it just to make more work for her. He was such a bugger, Bonnie mused, smiling wistfully as she lifted the thick mattress back onto the raised bed. She just had time to fold the blankets and place them neatly on the soft platform, smelling the earthy scent of her lovers as she did so.

The chime she had been waiting for sounded and she hurried to her corner, kneeling between her bowl and cage, arms folded behind her back, posture rod-straight. In moments she heard the frantic clicking that heralded the arrival of Hannibal and Rex. The two large, grey wolfhounds bounded into the room, tails swishing excitedly. Bonnie beamed as they rushed over to her, long pink tongues lapping at her face. She opened her mouth to receive their attention, pushing out her own tongue in welcome.

The moment they heard movement from the hallway, both dogs padded to their bowls and sat obediently before them, their food more important than their toy. Bonnie closed her mouth and lowered her eyes demurely. She saw the stockinged feet of Miss Burton enter the room and empty the meals into the two large metal bowls on the far side of the room.

Bonnie’s mouth watered as she smelt the hot meal the dogs had been served. The aroma she knew to be pork drifted across the room to her. From that one small clue she knew the meal also contained vegetables and a delicious smelling gravy, thick and rich. Bonnie licked her lips as the command to eat was given and both dogs dove at their bowls, noisily devouring the substantial meal. 

The young girl waited, salivating as the two hounds pushed their bowls across the hard tiled floor. The serving maid left the room and Bonnie dared a quick peek across the room. All she could see was the furry flanks of the large canines, their heads buried in their bowls.

Her eyes returned quickly to their downcast position, lest Miss Burton return and she earn yet another mark. She knew she would not have to wait long for her own meal and had long ago learned the value of patience. Before long she heard the muted tap of the maid’s soft-soled shoes, her body stiffening in response.

The woman strode straight to her, the routine well set and known by both. Bonnie opened her mouth to receive the harness and in moments had the device fitted over her head. The harness consisted of a wide leather facial piece that covered the lower half of her face, cutting across under her nose and cupping her chin. Two pairs of straps were fastened tightly behind her head, one high and one around the base of her skull.

The thick rubber straw penetrated into her mouth and kept her lips parted. She breathed slowly through her nose, knowing that if she did not the straw whistled annoyingly, something Miss Burton despised. She sat still as a leash was attached to the ring at the front of the thick metal collar that encircled her throat.

The weighty band of burnished metal was almost two inches in height and allowed but little space between hard surface and soft flesh. Bonnie fell forward onto all fours as the maid tugged on her leash, leading her towards the bowl. The other end of the thick chain was attached to a solid, metal ring set in the wall. Bonnie waited obediently, her face directly above her own small bowl. It was less than half the size of those belonging to the dogs and she waited patiently for it to be filled.

The smell alerted her first, the strong, sour aroma of curdled milk assaulted her nostrils as the meal was poured into her bowl. The soft plop as the first of the thin, grey gruel splashed into the shallow metal container made her wince. In one small way she was glad she was only fed once a day. The runny slop smelt foul and tasted no better. She could recall almost nothing else, this unappetising gruel having been her only meal for so long.

“Eat,” snapped Miss Burton.

Bonnie lowered her face to the bowl, her nose wrinkling as she closed in on the cold liquid. Miss Burton did not wait to hear the first loud slurp, not able to stomach the noise of the young girl eating. The straw between her lips dipped into the lumpy grey slime and she proceeded to suck, drawing the vile-tasting mixture into her mouth. First contact was the worst, something she never got used to. She had no words to describe the true nature of her meal but she was unsurprised that neither dog had ever been tempted to approach her food bowl.

Bonnie sucked and swallowed in a well-established rhythm, drawing the ugly mix into her belly. She felt a presence behind her, followed by the familiar hot breath on her thighs. The young girl spread her legs a little and arched her back, the rough material of her dress stretching across her thighs. There was not a lot more she could do, but if whoever it was wished access to her pussy, they should be able to push pinafore out of the way. The boys knew better than to fuck her at mealtime, the one time they had tried, they had all been scolded: Hannibal and Rex given a stern talking to and Bonnie had been awarded a mark for misbehaviour and another for not finishing her meal on time. The misdeed had been deemed serious enough to warrant immediate action however, and the whipping her pussy received had stayed with her for days.

She was relieved when the felt the wet tongue lick the soft skin of her inner thigh. She heard a gentle bark from across the room and knew it was Hannibal pressing eagerly between her legs. She felt his head push her pinafore up and over her buttocks as he strove to place his tongue at her pussy. Bonnie waggled her hips as the long, hot tongue slid across her plump vulva. She needed this cleaning, her worries about earning a mark for indecency fading.

The petite girl focused on her meal, sliding her face around the bowl to suck up every morsel she could. She gagged suddenly, knowing even as she baulked, the reason for her response. She had consumed the first of the four pellets that were an intimate part of her diet. She had no idea what they were for, or what they were made of, though she guessed some kind of hard plastic. All she knew was that the same four pellets were fed to her at every meal.

“Hannibal, out.”

The stern voice of Miss Burton echoed around the small room and Bonnie sucked the last few morsels from her bowl . The lovely tongue that had lapped her sex as she ate was quickly withdrawn and she lamented its loss even as her belly tightened in apprehension. She was sure she had consumed as much of the foul meal as she could reach. She despised the taste, but apart from occasional drinks of water, and the nectar she could extract from Hannibal and Rex, she would not be fed until the same time tomorrow. Her stomach would be grumbling long before then.

“Up.”

Bonnie sat back on her haunches, clasping her elbows behind her and straightening her body under the scrutiny of the maid. Her pinafore was bunched around her waist, her pussy exposed, the glistening pink lips beckoning to be recognised. Bonnie watched, through lowered eyes, as a drip from the thick straw fell to the floor between her knees. She would clean that up as soon as she could but she hoped it would not draw Miss Burton’s attention .

The maid hated her filthy parts and she was bound to get in trouble for showing them. Bonnie wondered what was wrong when, without a word, Miss Burton removed the chain from her collar, unstrapped  the harness and left the room with all three bowls. She had dodged a sure punishment and wasted no time in ensuring her good luck would not come back to haunt her.

Bonnie fell to her knees and licked the small drop of slimy gruel from the floor before hurrying from the room. The soft slippers she wore made almost no sound on the hard tiles as she made her way into the house to begin her morning duties. In less than a minute she was in position.

The young girl stood in the corner, just outside the entrance to the servant’s lounge. She was not permitted in the lounge or the servant’s quarters by the express orders of Mr Morgan. As she stood at attention awaiting her assignment she thought about the man who ran the house. Mr Morgan was strict but fair. He always punished her correctly and to the very letter of the rules. The boys loved him, doting on his every word, and for this Bonnie followed her masters’ lead in everything.

Bonnie waited, eyes lowered and back completely straight. Her legs were together, soft flesh touching from thigh to ankle and she looked down her pinafore for the hundredth time, checking that it was smooth and straight. If she was out of position, her hemline not straight or her collar not facing correctly, she would earn a mark for each infringement and Mr Morgan had an eye for detail.

She could hear the other servants in the lounge, chatting amiably about their day and their duties. She had seen them relaxing in the high-backed chairs of leather which dotted the lounge, a luxury she had never sampled. She lost track of how long she waited but eventually heard the ruffling of papers from within the lounge and straightened her body just a little bit more.

When Mr Morgan had finished reading the paper he would assign her duties. Her belly fluttered as she saw the blurred shapes of the other servants pass her and knew it was her time soon. None spoke or even looked her way as they passed and Bonnie did not expect anything else. The Mistress kept five servants but she was not among them, the divide stressed by each and every interaction.

“Foyer, complete. Main hall. Library fireplace. Dismissed.”

Bonnie curtseyed daintily and waited for Mr Morgan to move back into the lounge before scurrying on her way. She was not surprised at being ordered to clean the foyer. Despite her best efforts she knew it had to be done properly.

She wasn’t sure if she could get everything done by the lunch bell but she would just have to do her best. She knew the foyer had only been added to her duties because of her inappropriate behaviour so she had no one to blame but herself. She hurried to her duty, plagued by self-recrimination and doubts but they would not help her get the work done and she tried her best to push them away.

*  *  *  *  *

The young girl spent the morning lost in her work. She had scrubbed every surface of the foyer, including the walls for as far as she could reach. It was a long and frustrating process and she wasted a great deal of time moving back to the cleaning cupboard to rinse the small cloth she was using to clean. It would have gone much quicker if she could have taken the bucket of water with her, but she was only permitted to remove one item from the cupboard at a time.

Once the foyer was complete, tiles and walls sparkling she had repeated the process for the main hall, eventually switching the small square of towel with which she scrubbed the floors with an equally small cloth with which to polish the vast expanse of wood panelling that covered almost every surface.

The floors and the walls were hers to clean. Bonnie looked longingly at the beautiful tables and the ornaments they contained and wondered what it would be like to clean those. A tiny thrill shot up her spine at the thought of reaching out and polishing the top of one the terribly beautiful pieces of furniture. She immediately looked away, focusing on the panel before her. Such thinking was stupid and dangerous. She didn’t have time to waste on such hazardous thoughts. She did not know the time but the luncheon bell could not be far away.

Bonnie caught a glimpse of movement as she passed one of the large mirrors that hung in the hall, their intricately wrought framework sparkling in the golden sunlight that filtered through the windows situated high above the floor. She paused and turned, staring at the young girl that looked out at her. Was the petite girl she saw on the other side of the wall pretty? When the Mistress had bought her, she had thought so. The Count had brought her into the lodge, introducing her as the prettiest of his girls. She still had the irrepressibly wavy blond hair that framed her heart-shaped face. She had always been glad of her long, bright hair, mainly because it covered her little pixie ears. She reached up and brushed the soft curtain of shining gold back from her face, exposing the delicate curve that stuck out from the side of her head. She had always been so self-conscious of her ears, knowing they were just a little too evident, but in her new life such thoughts seemed so silly.

Her bright blue eyes sparkled as she tilted her head slightly to the left, wondering just what she really was. Had she changed so much? Miss Burton said she was an ugly little imp and maybe she was. Maybe as she had grown she had lost the pretty demeanour of her youth. She was little, there was no denying that truth. She was barely five feet tall, her petite frame clinging to the girlishness of youth. She looked down at her chest, feeling the tight pinafore pull across her breasts. Some things had grown since she had entered the Mistress’s household. Her grey pinafore was the only garment she had ever worn and it now fit her a little too snugly. Bonnie pursed her delicate pink lips and hurried on her way. She shouldn’t have stopped to look at herself, she was already on a tight schedule and this could have put her even further behind.

Before long she was in the library, tiny brush in hand, scrubbing the thick bricks surrounding the large hearth. This was an even more frustrating job than cleaning the foyer, the brush needing constant dipping to prove effective. She was used to such menial tasks but familiarity did not remove the frustration and boredom she felt.

“Well…”

Bonnie almost dropped the brush in surprise. She spun around, immediately standing to attention, her body going rigid at the sound of the stern, yet sensual, voice. She lowered her eyes to the floor, able to see only the pretty black heels worn by her Mistress. The young girl trembled, clutching the tiny brush tightly behind her back. She could only hope her uniform was straight.

“How long have you been here?”
“I don-“
“I bought you almost two years ago and what do I find this morning? Such a vulgar display. You are well aware that such behaviour is inappropriate in the foyer. Morgan will see to an increase in the discipline you so clearly need. I sincerely hope that you do not require retraining. Despite the obvious fondness my darling boys may have it may simply be propitious to purchase a new pet.”

The blood drained from the young girl’s face at the proposition. She didn’t want to be retrained, she couldn’t imagine returning to that period of her life, but she would prefer it to being replaced. She felt as if a lead weight had been dropped in her belly and she struggled to breath. She wanted to beg with her Mistress, to plead desperately that she would be better behaved, but the trembling girl remained obediently silent.

Her Mistress looked at her contemptuously before striding from the room. Bonnie didn’t move until the older woman had left the room, her breath exploding from her in relief. She was such a dumb bitch. All she needed to do was obey, follow the simple rules she had been set and yet she had failed so terribly. She chastised herself as she turned back to her work, frantic, now, to complete her morning tasks before the luncheon bell. She scrubbed the bricks as hard as she could, walking as briskly as she dared back and forth between the storage cupboard. If only she was permitted to have two items at once, she lamented. She could get so much more work done, but it was not her place to question the running of the house. Her duties were clearly defined.

In a monumental stroke of luck, the bell rang just as she replaced the small brush. She made sure it was perfectly square on the shelf, knowing the importance of keeping the cupboard tidy. She would have to empty the bucket after and she knew she risked a punishment if it was discovered, but to be late for the bell was something that filled her with dread.

Only moments later she was stood outside the servant’s lounge, posture perfect and eyes downcast. She had been in position for less than a minute when she heard the soft clink of cutlery from within the room. Moments later the tantalising aroma of roast lamb wafted to her. Bonnie could feel the saliva fill her mouth at the delicious scent.

She listened to the other servants chat over lunch, praise for the delicious roast sending a sinking feeling curdling through her belly. She stood silently, unmoving, as the servants devoured their midday meal only feet away from her. It was a ritual in which she played her part dutifully, the routine a daily one.

She breathed a silent sigh of relief when she heard Mr Morgan call an end to the meal. She straightened her body as she thought of returning to her duties. It was difficult to stand here and listen to such a mouthwatering meal be devoured, knowing such delectable fare would never pass her lips. The vile aftertaste from her breakfast had stayed with her, and would do so until she was able to replace it with a taste of the nectar that was her reward for service.

She had heard one of the dogs pacing restlessly at the end of the hall. They knew they were not allowed this far and she had to fight every instinct to stop herself going to them. She didn’t know if they wanted her or the delicious lamb but she liked to think it was the former. She was theirs and they liked being parted from her no less than she did them.

“Follow.”

Bonnie was startled by the sudden appearance of Mr Morgan but she hurried after him, eager to keep pace. Mr Morgan had told her more than once that if you needed to search for a bitch, then they were clearly in the wrong place. If he turned to command her and she was not there she would not only earn a mark, but the displeasure of the man she wished desperately to please.

Her chest tightened when she realised their destination, the feeling of dread growing inside her, weighing her down with each step she took. The servants called it the workshop but for Bonnie it held a vastly different meaning. It was where she received her weekly inspections and was washed and also where she received her scheduled punishments.

“Undress.”

The command had been given the moment she stepped inside the large room. The young girl reached down, and with trembling hands, quickly removed the small slippers that adorned her feet. She looked down as she placed them neatly against the wall, sighing in relief at having the infernal footwear off, even if it was for a short while.

The inner soles were covered in countless tiny plastic spikes, their ends blunted but still sharp enough to cause her constant discomfort. The tight elastic had left a red band around her ankle and she knew, if she was permitted to look, that her own soles would bear a myriad of tiny dents.

She wasted no time in self-pity, quickly unbuttoning her pinafore before pulling the roughspun garment up her body. She used one hand to tug the dress upwards, while the other held the thick leather belt in place. She was well-versed in the procedure but it still took her some moments before she had the pinafore past the belt, over her head and folded neatly on the floor.

Bonnie stood at attention, wearing nothing but the brown belt that tightly encircled her slim waist. It was rarely removed outside the baths she received and she had come to accept the belt almost as part of her body. Her collar had been removed only once since it had first been placed around her neck and she barely thought about it now.

“Up.”

Bonnie stepped forward and climbed up on the heavy table in the far corner of the workshop, obediently kneeling on all fours. The floor here was bare concrete, the walls a rough brick of ancient design. A tiny spike of fear ran up her spine as thick metal cuffs were clamped around each wrist and ankle, restraining her four limbs to each thick, square table-leg.

“Your behaviour of late has been abysmal. Mrs Haversham has ordered an increased disciplinarian presence before needing to decide on a course of retraining or resale. This is not to interfere with your duties. You are a well-trained bitch and I want to see that training come to the fore. I will be recommending a sale as I do not wish to train a bitch a second time. Open.”

Bonnie raised her head and opened her mouth as wide as she could, straining to accept the large oval. The metallic object filled her mouth and she would have struggled to close her lips around the metallic egg even if she was permitted. She instantly felt her body produce saliva, the lubrication she knew was required.

She heard some unidentifiable noises behind her, heavy clanks and the clatter of metal on wood but she dared not look. Curiosity may have killed the cat, but all it would bring her was pain. The young girl held the egg-shaped object in her mouth while Mr Morgan prepared the rest of the apparatus that was to be used for her additional discipline. Bonnie did not like the sound of what was to happen but she patiently accepted her fate.

When the egg was removed from her mouth, it ran with her drool, long strings dripping from its smooth silver surface onto the table below her. Bonnie shifted her weight slightly, preparing for the ordeal to come. She wasn’t completely sure what was going to happen, but she had already made a guess. She tried to relax but tensed the moment the slick metal egg touched her tightly puckered sphincter.

“Clench all you like, this is going in. I can see your disobedience is more deeply ingrained than I thought.”

Bonnie wanted desperately to plead her case, she hadn’t meant to, it just happened. She winced as the egg was pushed against the small pink rosette and this time did her best to push back, accepting the intruder. It was forced hard against her asshole and she felt her tender muscle give way, before it was suddenly removed and placed back in her mouth.

Bonnie grunted around the large object as her tongue swirled across the smooth metal surface. The young girl did her best to deposit as much saliva as she could on the object. She wasn’t smart, but even she knew that the wetter it became the easier it would be to insert. This was nothing like the small enema nozzle she accepted each day. They were only as thick as her thumb and slid inside her easily.

After a few moments the metal egg was removed from her mouth and once again pushed against her anus. This time she knew what to do, knew the behaviour expected of her. She opened herself, pushing back against the unyielding egg. This time the pressure did not stop. Bonnie grunted as she felt herself open, wider than she could ever recall, the ring of flesh stretching around the metal intruder. She instinctively moved away from the pain, leaning her body forward on her knees.

“Back,” snapped Mr Morgan, “and mark.”

Bonnie resumed her position, pushing her body back, forcing herself against the insistent object. Her moans increased in volume and lowered in pitch as her asshole was stretched. It was too big. She couldn’t take it all in. She wasn’t designed for-

The young girl screamed as the widest part of the egg pushed past her sphincter, the tight pink ring of muscle quickly closing around the foreign object. Her entire body tensed as it entered but relaxed almost immediately, the sharp pain already beginning to ebb. She could feel the metal egg, heavy inside her ass. Her asshole had closed leaving no evidence of the large object’s recent passage.

“When you receive your call you are to report immediately to your post. You will wait there for further instructions. One minute after the first call, there will be a second. There will not be a third. One minute after the second call, if you are not in position the signal will be continuous. Understand?”
“Yes Sir,” the young girl replied with trepidation. What would happen if she didn’t hear the call? What happened if she was in the garden or-

Bonnie screamed and jolted forward, collapsing to the hard wooden tabletop. Her hands desperately wanted to fly between her legs, to massage the pain from her belly and ass, but she was pulled short by the heavy metal cuffs that kept her limbs spread. She felt as if she had been caned hard, only inside. It wasn’t really the same, the pain sharper, more intense and more immediate, but she had no experience with which to gauge the sensation that wracked her body.

“That was the first call. You will then have one minute to be at your post, “explained the steward, sure that the practical demonstration would have imparted the knowledge the girl needed, knowing that mere explanation could not.

Bonnie resumed her position, slowly lifting her body back to all fours. She was lucky she hadn’t received a mark for breaking position. She had heard what Mr Morgan had said. A second shock was coming soon. There was nothing she could do. If she was called, even if she made it to her post on time she would still receive the second call. She grit her teeth and waited.

“You are to answer the call with your physical presence. No one has any interest in hearing a bitch squeal. Do not do so again.”

Bonnie’s eyes widened at the command. How was she to remain silent through that pain? It had pulsed through her so fast and so powerful, a shooting spike of agony that consumed her very being. She hadn’t been able to think of anything else. The pain had been a surprise but it was the sheer level of agony that had banished all other thoughts from her mind.

Bonnie knew the second surge of pain was coming and still she was not prepared for it. It was greater than the first of that she was sure. She grunted as she felt the stab of agony inside her ass and instantly worried that she had made too much noise. The pain was astonishing but it was brief, lasting but a second. She was left panting heavily, tears welling in her eyes but she had remained in position and she could only hope it was enough.

“Mark. If you are in the presence of a superior and you are called the only sound you are to make is to request to be excused from their presence. Stand. Now, you receive the call and…”

Bonnie was on her feet now, standing beside the table, arms behind her back, body stiff and straight. Pain stabbed through her belly and she made a small, barely audible squeak, her body hunching slightly as the shock of electricity was released once more into her ass.

“May I be excused please Sir?” Bonnie asked sweetly, breath heavy as she regained her rigid position.
“Again.”

Bonnie remained standing straight, jaw firmly clenched to prevent any noise from escaping. Her hands clenched fiercely behind her, knuckles turning white as she fought to remain straight and silent.

“May I be excused please Sir?”
“No, if you have behaved correctly, your superior will not know why you ask to be excused. A bitch does not simply excuse itself. Again.”

The brimming tears fell down Bonnie’s soft cheeks as she was shocked once more. She had seen the small black box that the steward held and had just caught the small movement that heralded the new pulse of pain. She hadn’t remained completely still, a tiny movement, the barest of shudders, rocked her body.

“May I be excused please Sir. I have been called”
“No. You will be called to attend. Again.”
“May I be excused please Sir. I have been called to attend.”

The effort left the diminutive girl, weeping and frustrated. She was sure she would have done it right, if only she had been told everything. She wasn’t even sure how many shocks she had received but finally she had done it correctly. She had learned a new behaviour, and that was always something she was proud of. No part of her training had ever been easy but she had learnt a great many things. Sometimes she thought it was maybe too many but that was not something that concerned her too often. She was trained and she learned, the process at least was simple.

“Correct. Again.”

Bonnie’s shoulders slumped in defeat only to stiffen a moment later as the large metal egg inside her released its charge once more. She responded correctly and was prompted again, repetition reinforcing her new behaviour. For the third time she remained silent during the call, asking for dismissal in the correct manner.

Mr Morgan seemed satisfied. She resisted the urge to smile, a small sense of joy at having successfully learned a new trick. She wished she was smarter, able to learn quicker and learn a great many more tricks. She was the stupidest bitch Miss Burton had ever known and even Mr Morgan said he’d seen more intelligent things crawl out of the manure pile. At least Hannibal and Rex did not mind. She smiled at how smart her Masters were. Still, she wished she was not so stupid. She would be better able to serve and everyone would be happier with her if she was just a little smarter.

“Did you finish your morning duties?”
“Yes Sir.”
“Your sex is a mess. Explain.”
“Sorry Sir, Rex mounted me this morning and I have not had time to clean my cunt properly. “
“Time? That is rather precocious, decidedly unbecoming behaviour for a bitch. Clean it now,” ordered the steward as he set about adding something to the table.

Bonnie watched out of the corner of her eye as a thick wooden pole was fixed across one end of the table. She licked her hands and rubbed them across her tacky vulva. Again and again she wet her hands and slid her saliva-coated fingers across her plump lips and sticky thighs. She didn’t need to watch what she was doing, able to tell by feel alone how her task progressed. Soon her pussy was clean, glistening with the moisture from her mouth, all evidence of the sticky canine ejaculate removed. Hannibal had tried, but his brief attention had done little more than stir her arousal.

“Up,” Mr Morgan commanded, patting the table. “On your back. Legs up.”

Bonnie complied obediently, sliding her head under the bar and lifting her legs back as far as she could, spreading them slightly, allowing her feet to slide under the pole either side of her head. The moment they were both under the pole, it was lowered, forcing her legs into the tabletop and securing them in place. The petite girl felt the thick pole across her neck and swallowed nervously as she heard it lock in place.

A rope was slid efficiently around each wrist and her arms were pulled to the far end of the table, the rough weave digging into her sensitive skin. She felt her pussy contract as she anticipated the coming punishment. She had been stupid, so stupid to try and make up some lie. She had been naughty and lazy and now she would receive what she deserved. This was what she had been talking about. She could be back at her duties if she wasn’t so dumb. She had let her Masters down. What if they wanted her and she was not there because of the lie she had told? The thought made her breath catch in her throat as her failure consumed her.

“A bitch must remain clean. This is something you know. This behaviour is the very reason you are to receive increased discipline. I am charged with ensuring this house is run as the Mistress desires. Your behaviour reflects on the house. Each day after your walk you will report here, undress and await correction.”

With that, the first blow landed. The room echoed with the loud slap, the dull thud of leather on flesh followed moments later by the muffled moan from the restrained girl. The thick strands of the whip impacted with full force on her upturned vulva, the sensitive flesh bare and exposed to the attentions of the steward.

Bonnie was completely helpless, her tight bondage allowing her barely any movement. She squirmed as much as she could as the whip continued to fall, the myriad strands of soft leather flattening her tender flesh as they fell. She grunted as each blow landed, the full lips of her sex flicked back and forth by the implacable punishment.

She tried not to make too much noise, knowing that no one wanted to listen to a bitch but the pain was too much. The whip was wielded by an expert hand and each stroke landed squarely on its intended target. By the time the steward replaced the instrument of torture on its hook, Bonnie’s pussy was red and puffy, the usually plump lips, swollen and radiating an unnatural heat.

She was left with her pain as Mr Morgan worked at a bench. She could hear the noise but could see nothing but the ceiling above her, her firmly trapped feet preventing her from moving her head. Her body ached from the strained position, but it was as nothing to the throbbing ache in her pussy. Each beat of her heart forced the blood into her swollen cunt, the abused lips threatening to burst with each pulse. Her tight sphincter pulsed with its own rhythm, the clenching muscles pulling at the flesh around it, her pussy pulsing in turn.

“Stop that. There is no one to mount here. You are here to serve. It is quite evident where the root of your problem lies. Until your behaviour improves, climax is cancelled. Bitches exist to serve others not their carnal desires.”

Bonnie accepted the rebuke with silent tears. She had not been doing what Mr Morgan thought. The vulnerable position she was in and the painful ache in her sex were the reason. Somehow it had helped just a little to flex down there, but he was right. She did think about climax a lot. When she thought of her lovers, it wasn’t always about serving them. Sometimes it was about how their long slippery tongue felt as it slid across her lips, dipping gently into her cleft. Sometimes she thought about being mounted, the swollen cocks thrusting inside her, spurting her full of their scalding hot nectar.

She was doing it now, only moments after being scolded for the very behaviour. She felt her pussy moisten, her soft pink canal filling with the milky discharge of her arousal. Bonnie begged for release. If Mr Morgan saw her cream she would be in trouble. Restrained as she was, there was no place to hide. The rigid position, caused her lips to spread and her pussy to open. All she could do was hope her indiscretion would not be discovered.

The young girl sighed with relief, silently thanking the steward as he released first her arms and then raised the pole that bent her body in two. She was sure to control her body, slowly lowering her legs to the table even though every instinct, every painful twitch, urged her to slam them down as fast as she could.

“Dress.”

All Bonnie could think as she rose on wobbly legs, was that her arousal had not been noticed. She had been given a chance and she would not waste it. She strode quickly to her uniform, slid the drab pinafore over her head and hurriedly forced it beneath the thick leather belt. She fastened the buttons and smoothed the rough grey garment, removing as many of the wrinkles as she could. Once the hems were straight, she slipped her feet into her shoes, wincing as the soft soles of her feet met the layer of blunt spikes that filled her footwear.

“The stables are to be cleaned, stalls one through four. Complete and then report for your walk. Dismissed.”

Bonnie turned and scurried from the room after completing a dainty curtsey. She would need to work extremely hard to complete her task before her walk. She had been kept in the workshop for a long time, the training that was necessary eating into the time with which she had to complete her duties. She could blame no one but herself but try as she might, all she could think of as she hurried to the stables was that she would no longer be permitted her weekly climax. She knew she did not deserve it but the loss haunted her.

The young girl blushed as she hurried to her duties, knowing her thoughts were inappropriate but unable to halt them. She could feel the wetness inside her pussy and could only hope that its scent would not bring her Masters. She wanted to see them, to take comfort from their presence but she knew that she could not afford the distraction.

If she made it to the stables she would be able to discharge her duty safely. Hannibal and Rex were not allowed inside and as much as she ached to feel them inside her, to caress their shaggy flanks she knew that she must complete her task. She needed to obey and impress the steward, and through him the Mistress. It was the only way she could stay. The very thought of being sold brought fresh tears to her eyes but she quickly wiped them away and moved more swiftly to her duty.

*  *  *  *  *

Joy welled inside her at the first distant bark. Her eyes flicked quickly to the side, a smile creeping across her face as she saw Hannibal bounding towards her. She felt her pussy tighten as her belly filled with the nervous fluttering she always felt around her Masters. Her eyes obediently returned to the front, looking out over the vista of beautifully manicured lawns as she heard the hound approach. She had risked much, the brief glance a break of position that Mr Ashton was bound to report.

Bonnie could not repress her smile, the only outward show of the unbridled happiness she felt as the large dog reached her. The young girl moaned softly, gently stepping wider, as the snuffling snout buried itself beneath her pinafore. She quivered as the long, hot tongue slipped across her soft lips, questing deeper in search of her juices. She gasped as the cold nose pressed against her flesh, the hot breath flushing her clit with a deliciously subtle sensation. She remained upright and in position, fighting her desire to fall to her knees and be mounted. She existed to serve, her place reinforced by her recent visit to the workshop, a lesson she would not soon forget.

She was owned by the Mistress and her service came first. She had been purchased as a pet for her hounds, Hannibal and Rex, and Bonnie served her lovers, her Masters, as this was her first duty, but the Mistress was a higher power and her orders came above all else. It was important for a bitch to know her place and part of that was staying in position when she was told to wait. It had been the first trick she had learnt.

She could tell Hannibal wanted to mount her and her pussy pulsed at the thought but he understood she was in position. He was such an understanding master. If he had ordered it, she would have presented herself for his use and accepted the punishment it would have brought, but he had not, instead greeting her with his loving caress.

Her breathing had begun to quicken as the long, wet tongue took its toll upon her. She was creaming now, her quim a delicacy she knew Hannibal would not tire of. Bonnie clenched her jaw and moaned softly as her arousal grew, the experienced tongue lapping at her sensitive folds with enthusiasm. She risked a glance down and smiled, seeing Hannibal’s shaggy grey body protruding from between her legs, his head completely hidden beneath her pinafore.

Her hands flexed behind her back, tightening rhythmically in time with her pussy. Small beads of sweat formed across her brow as the heat trapped between her legs raised her body temperature. She heard Rex bark his greeting, his tone more urgent and insistent. He was so different from Hannibal, so demanding, always in a hurry. He was always getting her into trouble, but she wouldn’t have him any other way.

Rex came bounding in and immediately nuzzled his way between her legs. There was a brief scuffle that almost knocked her over but she shuffled her legs a little wider, hoping to accommodate both her lovers. It was a difficult position to be in. She often felt torn, guilty at not being able to devote the time and attention each of her masters deserved. She did her best but she so often felt it was not enough. Both dogs suddenly scrambled from beneath her dress. They had heard, as she had, the crunch of Mr Ashton’s heavy boots on the stony path. Bonnie quickly smoothed her pinafore, straightening the hem as she had been trained. A bitch always had to remain decent and though her uniform was simple, wearing it properly was a vital part of her existence. Inappropriate dress was a great show of disrespect, something not to be tolerated from a bitch.

“Heel.”

Bonnie hurried to the side of the imposing figure and resumed her position. The dogs danced around Mr Morgan, eager for their walk to begin. They knew the routine. They would sit still as soon as she was leashed, knowing it was then their turn to accept their restraint. The long chain was clipped to her collar and then fixed to a metal loop on the groundskeeper’s belt.

The young girl let forth a short, sharp yip. Mr Ashton did not allow her to speak so she showed her appreciation for his attention in the only way permissible. He turned to the dogs, now sitting eagerly, heads held high, awaiting their own leashes. Bonnie looked at the groundskeeper as he leashed her lovers.

He was a powerful man, broad-shouldered and well-muscled. All the staff towered over her but at well over six foot he made her feel ever so tiny. Her petite frame made her feel fragile and weak in the presence of the burly groundskeeper. His full black beard had always intrigued her and she couldn’t help wondering once more, what it would feel like.

“Off we go boys,” he intoned, his sonorous voice causing the dogs to jump forward until their leashes were almost taut. She was proud of Hannibal and Rex, how well behaved they were for Mr Ashton, never pulling on their leashes. “Come bitch.”

Bonnie moved forward to join the procession. Hannibal and Rex lead, as they always did and Mr Ashton was happy to allow it. She followed behind, always keeping to the left, her place well-defined. The groundskeeper held the dog’s leashes in his left hand, a thick stick of black wood in his right. She would receive no marks while in the groundskeeper’s care. Her misbehaviour was dealt with swiftly and severely. She watched the stick swing loosely in his large hands and remembered its feel on her flesh.

Bonnie enjoyed the walk, smiling at the infectious enthusiasm of the two large wolfhounds. She watched them dance back and forth, eager to reach their destination. They passed the beautifully manicured hedge that marked the end of the manicured lawns, the small party stopping at the margin of the field. A vast expanse of grass stretched for almost a mile, terminating in the dark line of forest that bordered the wild field.

Hannibal and Rex sat patiently and were soon rewarded with the removal of their leashes. They instantly bounded into the field, running at full speed, chasing each other playfully. Bonnie laughed at their antics, thrilling to see them so happy and free. She walked slowly behind Mr Ashton as he meandered across the field. She longed to run after her masters but knew that she could not. Even if she was released from her leash, there was no way she could run in the shoes that she wore.

Bonnie looked wistfully out over the open vista, Hannibal and Rex mere grey specks amongst the long, wild grasses. The groundskeeper increased his pace, walking into the field after the two dogs. The young girl picked her way carefully trying to remain as sure-footed as she could. She had to keep up or she would feel the strength that the groundskeeper possessed. If her leash tightened, even for an instance, the thick walking stick would meet her flesh in the most painful of ways.

Bonnie followed obediently, remaining silent as they made their way across the open expanse. Mr Ashton was hard, but fair. All the staff were really. She was sometimes a chore to deal with, she knew. The punishments she received were well deserved and she tried her best to learn from them. She tried not to be stupid, but that was something at which she did not succeed as often as she would have liked. Her melancholy musings were interrupted by the sight of Hannibal as he emerged from the long grass and ran towards them. Bonnie’s spirits rose as she watched his approach, smiling at his loping run, his tongue swinging wildly, the tongue that had recently given her a taste of such pleasure. She felt her pussy tingle at the thought. She blushed and looked at Mr Ashton to see if he had seen her response.

She couldn’t help herself. Her thoughts were constantly with her lovers, her arousal so easily ignited. Now, with her weekly climax denied her, she knew she would be worse. She always found it harder to control herself towards the end of the week. There was nothing wrong with a bitch wanting to be mounted, she knew that was why the Mistress had bought her, but she often felt that she went a little too far. Was she a normal bitch? Did others like her spend so much time thinking of their masters? Were their cunts always wet like hers?

Hannibal stopped in front of Mr Ashton and barked. Bonnie looked at the large dog, tail wagging ecstatically, saliva dripping from his mouth as he looked expectantly from her to the man to which she was chained. He barked again, this time more insistent, and her young heart leapt in her chest, hoping the request would be granted.

Mr Ashton looked back at her, one eyebrow raised inquisitively. Bonnie kept her eyes to the ground and stood dutifully at attention, barely able to keep her excitement at bay. Her sex twitched as she waited, doing all she could to remain calm. If Mr Ashton found her behaviour lacking in any way, she would not be allowed to go with her master. She held her breath as she waited anxiously for a response.

“Come bitch.” The young girl scurried forward, making sure she kept her head up and eyes lowered. “Undress.”

The moment the leash was detached from her collar, Bonnie began pulling at the meagre dress she wore, scraping the rough material against her soft flesh, eager to comply. It took less than a minute for her to have the grey pinafore over her head and folded neatly in her hands.

“Shoes bitch.”

Bonnie repressed a smile at the impossible gift she was being given. Her shoes were off in seconds, the feel of the grass beneath her feet a rare luxury.  She didn’t deserve this. Her behaviour had been so poor lately and she was receiving- The young girl realised suddenly that this was not for her. Hannibal had requested her and Mr Ashton had given him what he wanted. The gift was for Hannibal, not her.

“On the ground,” the groundskeeper ordered. Bonnie placed her uniform carefully on the grass and moved quickly back to attention. “You know the boundaries. Off you go bitch.”

Bonnie gave a small, excited yip, her thanks and understanding communicated in one small sound. Hannibal danced around her, leaping high as she hurried out into the field. He easily ran rings around her, darting in to sniff the moistness between her legs. She still couldn’t quite believe that she had been allowed into the field and she thanked the groundskeeper once more, though she was now too far for her delicate yip to be heard.

Hannibal ran ahead and Bonnie tried to keep pace, laughing at the feel of the ground beneath her feet, the long grass whipping against her shins. Her breasts bounced as she ran, the firm globes swaying with her every movement. Her nipples were hard and she gently pinched them as she scurried after her master.

The large hound was far ahead, but turned suddenly and loped back to her. Bonnie stopped and reached out, bracing herself for the embrace she sensed was coming. As he reached her, Hannibal leapt up, his front paws bearing down on her shoulders. The young girl set her legs and took his weight, giggling as his long tongue lapped manically at her face.

The young girl opened her mouth and received the passionate kiss, her own tongue lapping at the malleable invader, closing her mouth playfully around  the long, wet tongue, trying to trap it within – something she had yet to accomplish. Hannibal shifted his weight and the sudden movement bore Bonnie to the ground.

The wind was momentarily knocked from her but she was soon laughing as Hannibal danced around her, his kisses on her face, her breasts and finally the dripping cleft between her legs. Her pussy was still sore from the recent whipping, but the hot tongue felt divine on her swollen vulva. She lay back in the rough grass and enjoyed the attention.

She had missed Hannibal, even though they had only been parted for one night. He was a considerate lover, not that Rex wasn’t but he tended to mount her straight away which always caused her just a little pain. Her cunt moistened very quickly, but there were times when that first penetration hurt.

Bonnie lay back, staring at the sky as her pussy was licked with a single-minded intensity. She watched the clouds move slowly in the blue firmament as she thought of how lucky she was. Hannibal had lowered his body to the ground, his head resting between his front paws as he searched diligently for the musky cream the young girl produced. Her lust was rising and she massaged her full breasts as she enjoyed the pleasurable interlude. She was reminded of her place by a sharp bark. She immediately scrambled to her knees, setting her legs wide and arching her back, displaying her glistening pink vulva. Her full lips opened, presenting her wet pussy for use. Hannibal wasted no time, jumping upon the young girl the moment she was in position.

Bonnie grunted with the sudden weight and felt the convulsing muscles as her master’s hips thrust frantically against her. Claws scraped across her shoulders but she ignored the sharp pain, focusing instead on her positioning. She knew from experience that she was a little high and instinctively widened her legs, knees scraping across the flattened grass.

She had judged correctly and was immediately rewarded with an accurate thrust. Hannibal’s hips met her own, the barely tumescent member reacting to the warm moistness of her sex, engorging rapidly. Bonnie felt her pussy filled, the intense sensation forcing a long, primal moan from her open mouth.

Hannibal was big, bigger than Rex and she felt the full force of his durable and dextrous cock. The scalding heat from the thick shaft warmed her from the inside out, beads of sweat forming on her brow, despite the coolness of the afternoon. Hannibal continued to pump his hips, the movement smaller and less manic now he was safely inside.

Bonnie groaned, a sound of such pleasurable agony, as the base of the dog’s cock swelled, forming the knot that would link her to her lover in the most intimate of ways. Her cunt was filled to capacity, her soft pink folds caressing the swollen shaft of her master. She turned her head to the side and felt the hot breath of the dog on her face. Her pussy pulsed, the muscles undulating rhythmically, milking the turgid member that stretched her young cunt.

She was panting along with her lover as she felt his climax approaching. Bonnie dearly wanted to reach back and play with the tiny nubbin at the top of her sex, the small button of flesh that brought her so much pleasure, but she was not permitted a climax and she doubted if she had the control to prevent it. The thought that she did not deserve a climax, intruded on her pleasure and she kept her hands planted firmly on the ground.

She had been prepared, but the intensity of Hannibal’s ejaculation surprised her. Each hot jet of cum sent ripples of ecstasy throughout her body. Her toes curled and her hands ripped clumps of grass from the turf as she was filled, spurt after spurt of hot liquid bursting against the sensitive walls of her vagina. Her cunt was plugged by the thick knot at the base of the dog’s cock and the hot ejaculate could not escape, filling her young pussy to the brim.

Bonnie lost herself in the moment, realising some time later that she was moaning loudly, almost howling as her lust continued to rise, unable to be sated. Hannibal, his energy spent, slid from the young girl’s back and stood beside her, left leg cocked over her hips, bound to the panting bitch by his swollen cock.

Just as she was recovering from her use, she felt more than heard, the approach of her other master. Rex had heard her call and had come to investigate. He stalked around the linked pair, girl and dog eyeing his impatient gait. Bonnie could do nothing but open her mouth and beckon Rex forward with a series of soft mewling sounds. Hannibal growled, a low rumble deep in his throat as Rex sniffed between Bonnie’s legs.

The hound took both the warning and the plaintive beckoning to heart and sauntered to the front of the young girl. Bonnie braced her weight on her left arm and reached up beneath the belly of the waiting dog. She caressed the shaggy belly, feeling the muscles flex beneath her gentle touch. Her hand slid back, enfolding the hairy sheath with practiced ease. Her small hand milked the hidden member teasingly, slowly drawing Rex forward until she could reach him with her mouth. The small pink cock peeked from its sheath as she raised her body, stretching forward to close her mouth over the brightly glistening cock. She tasted the bitter tang of the nectar that already beaded at the slanted tip as her soft lips closed over the small, barely tumescent member.

She suckled on Rex’s cock as she waited patiently for her pussy to be emptied. She tensed her muscles, testing the state of Hannibal’s cock. She would not be free for a good few minutes yet so she was careful not to excite Rex too much. He had fucked her mouth once and it had not gone well. His cock was only marginally smaller than Hannibal’s but it was much too large to be thrust into her mouth with the intensity she knew Rex could muster.

She had practiced diligently since then, taking both her lover’s cocks well into her throat, filling her mouth until her lips rested against the thick knot of flesh at its base. But suckling the cock after she had been mounted and taking a manically thrusting shaft in her mouth were very different things. She wanted to be able to serve her masters in any way she could but it was rare for it to be necessary. They knew their pet was theirs to use and always respected each other’s right to her.

Bonnie swirled her tongue around the cock in her mouth. It had increased a little in size but it was still barely half as large as she knew it would grow. She knew it would not reach its full size until it was planted inside her cunt, when it would suddenly engorge and fill her with its delicious rigidity. Even though her pussy was still achingly full, she flushed afresh with the thought of that initial rush of both pleasure and pain as Rex’s cock slipped past her plump labia and expanded inside her, stretching her young flesh for the first time.

Bonnie sensed Rex’s growing impatience despite the loving attention of her mouth. She began to work her pussy, flexing the muscles of her belly and her sphincter to help with the extraction of Hannibal’s swollen member. She felt the heavy metal egg inside her ass shift, a horrific thought striking her as she was reminded of its presence. What if she was called now?

The petite youth had no time to contemplate the possible dilemma as she felt the thick dog cock inside her begin to shift. Bonnie relaxed for a moment before squeezing once more, her efforts bringing immediate effect. She collapsed to the ground, grunting in pain as the large knot stretched the opening of her vagina and popped free with an explosive gush of ejaculate that coated her plump vulva, thighs and the ground beneath her in the sticky, clear liquid.

Seconds later, her pussy aching from the sudden extraction, Bonnie was back on her knees, sex presented for further use. She waited obediently for Rex to mount her, the pain she felt irrelevant, service her only concern. Her masters were good to her, and if for no other reason she wished to repay the favour. The fact that she had been bought as a pet for the hounds never left her but she liked to believe she was driven by her feelings for Hannibal and Rex as much as she was by duty.

She had barely arched her back, her still-dripping sex exposed to the cool afternoon breeze, when Rex jumped upon her. The full weight of the large canine almost bore her to the ground but the young girl recovered quickly, forcing her hips back along the shaggy belly, her pliant hole searching for the cock for which she yearned.

Rex’s hips pounded frantically, his semi-sheathed cock bumping into her anus, the small, pink ring tightening instinctively. He was too excited, thought Bonnie, smiling at the dogs unbridled enthusiasm. She steadied herself and reached beneath her belly , grasped the bobbing sheath in one hand and guided it towards her pussy. Two more frustratingly off-centre thrusts and he was there. Sheath met cunt, and the waiting cock burst forth, engorging almost instantly. Bonnie grunted as she was filled for the second time in as many minutes, gasping as the sudden expansion took her breath away. She lowered her head to the ground and moaned into the grass, smelling the rich aroma of the earth as Rex continued to pound her young pussy.

All too quickly the dog was spent. His ejaculate burst against the soft walls of her sex, the heat of the cum causing fresh moans of ecstasy with each successive spurt. Rex had been too impatient, coming inside his bitch before his knot had sealed her cunt. The thick pink cock slipped from her pussy and hung pendant beneath his heaving belly.

Bonnie did her best to close her pussy as she scrambled into a squatting position but much of her reward was lost. She felt it run down her legs and hurriedly cupped her hand beneath her pussy. Barely a spoonful was collected in her palm before she knew she must attend to her master. She slurped the cum from her hand and crawled to Rex.

His cock pulsed, small squirts of clear liquid continuing to spray the ground beneath him. Bonnie leaned in and slid her mouth along the bulging curve of the dog’s cock, feeling the intense heat of the throbbing member as it filled her mouth. The delicious heat could only be truly experienced when she was sucking a cock. She yearned to be mounted by her lovers, but after they had spent themselves inside her she was given the chance serve this way, a chance she was sure never to squander.

As she slid her lips to the base of the cock, feeling the squirted liquid slide down her throat, she thought back to the early days of her training. She couldn’t believe how silly and naive she had been. She had never so much as patted a dog before she had been purchased. Her maid’s training had not prepared her for the duties for which her new Mistress purchased her. She had actually gagged at the first taste of the nectar that she now craved. The memory made her smile and she wriggled her tongue along the underside of the slimy red shaft.

Bonnie cheekily squeezed the heavy balls that hung at the base of the cock. Rex shifted and the young girl slid her hand down his leg, calming him once more. She knew she shouldn’t tease him like that. She knew Rex did not like having his balls touched but she was so happy and her mood was playful.

Bonnie pumped her face along the shaft, fucking it with her mouth, drawing forth as much of the liquid as she could. If she was lucky, that night she would be able to use her bowl to catch all of her lover’s gifts, a treat she treasured whenever possible. It was rare to find an opportunity to ask permission to drink making her master’s nectar all the more precious. The staff always looked at her as if she was a terribly greedy bitch and she tried to bother them only when it was truly necessary.

Rex eventually tired of her attention and wandered away, flopping down and finishing the cleaning job on his own. Bonnie shook her head and smiled. No matter how much she cleaned, Rex was never satisfied. Hannibal lay on the far side of the small clearing of trampled grass their lovemaking had created and she crawled towards him, moaning softly. Hannibal looked at her and lay back down. His assent given, she crawled close and lay down beside him, gently patting his flank.

The young girl turned towards the resting hound and received a tender kiss. She opened her mouth and extended her tongue, returning the affection. As she brushed Hannibal’s shaggy fur, removing small stalks of grass from the long tangles, her other hand slid along her belly. Her palm rested atop her print, a mark that always reminded her of what she was and to whom she belonged. Her fingers stretched out, teasing the top of her slit and the tiny button she found there.

A tingling began deep in her pussy and she withdrew her fingers immediately. Her arousal was high and she knew it would not take much to bring her dangerously close to climax. She knew already that her cream had begun to flow and she tried not to think of what Mr Morgan would say if he saw it at her cleansing.

There was nothing wrong with how she was, after all a bitch was expected to be ready for use, and she knew her cream showed that she was. It was just the way staff reacted. Miss Burton did not like her, that she knew, but when she saw the way her body reacted to her masters, her achingly hard nipples and the thick white cream that oozed from her cunt, she knew that in those moments the housemaid hated her.

She knew she was stupid, but there was nothing she could do about that. She tried her best to be as clean as she could, but somehow always fell short. She was filthy, they all told her so, but she would continue to try and improve. Hannibal and Rex did not seem to care but her other superiors did and they were the ones that judged her behaviour and meted out the punishment that she deserved.

Thoughts of cleanliness made her think of the state she must be in now. Her idle hand slid between her legs and wiped the sticky moisture from her vulva and thighs, fingers sliding past her wet lips to remove what she could from her pussy. Her hands and knees were marked but there was little she could do about that. She continued to clean her thighs, reaching further down her legs to remove the remnants of the dog cum that had escaped her sex. Periodically licking her fingers and palm, she cleaned her legs as best she could.

Rex had come to rest on her other side and, her task now completed, she lay on her back, a hand on each of her lovers, comforted by the slow rise and fall of their chests as they took their rest after their strenuous use of her. Bonnie blinked languidly, revelling in this rare moment of quiet, drawing solace from the presence of the dogs to whom she belonged. She watched the high, thin clouds whip across the impossibly pale, blue sky and knew that right here, right now, all was right in the world. She was where she needed to be, where she belonged and she smiled indulgently, her happiness settling upon her like a soft, warm blanket.

*  *  *  *  *

Hannibal and Rex sprang to their feet, their keen ears catching the sharp whistle from the far side of the field. Bonnie was startled by the sudden movement. She scrambled ungracefully to her feet and ran after the two large dogs, breasts bouncing chaotically as she tried in vain to catch the loping hounds. She was only small, shorter than any of the household staff and her legs simply could not carry her as fast. It was yet another thing at which her masters bettered her.

By the time she reached the waiting trio, she was panting breathlessly. Her chest heaved as she stood at attention, dreading what was to come. She had glanced at Mr Ashton’s face as she approached and she knew she was in trouble. She had no one to blame but herself. She had been lazy and inattentive, indulging herself when she should have been thinking of her duties. Hannibal and Rex were already leashed and both dogs sat patiently beside the groundskeeper. Bonnie could tell they had sensed the groundskeeper’s mood and knew she was in trouble.

“Position bitch.”

Bonnie’s hands were clasped behind her head in an instant, legs together tightly. Her buttocks quivered as she sensed the imposingly muscled man move behind her. She heard the swish of the heavy stick as it whistled past her bottom. She knew the next swing would be for real and it would be all she could do to remain in position. If she moved just one step, the stroke would not count. Like all her lessons, it was one she had learnt the hard way.

Bonnie grunted as the thick wooden shaft made contact, flattening her tender mounds with the violence of its force. Her entire body tensed and she raised herself onto her toes, the only movement she allowed herself as she dealt with the sudden agony that flashed through her bottom.

“Ruff,” she managed with the first shallow breath she took as the pain radiated throughout her body. The sound had barely left her throat when the thick wooden shaft slammed into her a second time. She grunted again, the only sound of pain she was permitted. Her elbows came forward to frame her face but quickly reverted to their spread position behind her head. Every aspect of her behaviour was important, hardly giving her any time to think about the pain.

“Ruff, ruff. “

The stick struck a third time before she was given the order to dress. She counted the last stroke and thanked Mr Ashton with a soft yip before hurrying to her uniform that lay in the grass where she had left it. Her shoes were slipped onto her feet, the spiked inner soles causing the young girl to grimace as she rested her weight upon them. She struggled with her dress but quickly presented herself to be leashed, her entire body feeling the effects of the punishment.

The chain was clipped to her collar and she was led back to the house without another word. The marks on her buttocks had just begun to fade, part of the weekly cycle to which she had become accustomed, and now they had been renewed, well in advance of the scheduled punishment. She wished that one day, one week, she would not bear a mark at all. She had been unable to achieve this lofty goal but it was something to which she clung dearly. If she was not marked, she had not earned a punishment. If she had not earned any punishment, her behaviour had reached the level her superiors expected.

The entire party was more subdued on the return journey. Bonnie felt the effects of her punishment more keenly than she wished known. As she watched the dogs pad along in front of her, she smiled despite the pain that pulsed through her with each step.  It had been the most eventful walk in a long time. She enjoyed her time out of the house, watching her masters enjoy themselves. It always made her smile to see them running free, chasing each other and things only they could see. She usually stayed by Mr Ashton’s side, silent and obedient. Even though her behind throbbed in agony she had still enjoyed her walk.

When they reached the shed, the dogs were unleashed and set free onto the grounds. They were good boys and would not venture past the boundaries they had been set. They were responsible and well behaved, something which she aspired to. Her chain was transferred from the groundskeeper’s belt to a post by the door, the links rattling as they slid through the thick metal ring.

Bonnie stood at attention as Mr Ashton disappeared behind the shed. She looked plaintively after the dogs but they were mere grey specks in the distance, having hurried to the house to enjoy their afternoon meal. The thought of food made her belly rumble and she tried to think of other things. She was thirsty after the strenuous walk and she knew she would have to ask permission to drink before she went back to the house for her cleansing. She heard the groundskeeper’s heavy tread and her belly tightened anxiously as she prepared to speak.

“Mmmrup,” Bonnie said, trying to keep any hint of whine from her tone. Mr Ashton would brook no whining from a bitch. Her question asked, the young girl stuck her tongue from her mouth, curling it down towards her chin and waited.

“After,” was the gruff reply. “Shoes off. Up.”

Bonnie complied, slipping off her shoes and placing them to the side before folding her dress up over belt, exposing her young body from the waist down. Her hands returned to the small of her back, helping to trap her dress in position. She noticed the thick red gloves that covered the groundskeeper’s arms to the elbow and groaned inwardly. She jumped as the metal bucket clanged on the ground beside her. A small block of wood was rolled to her feet and set on end. She took one deep breath, steeling herself for the discomfort to come.

“Up.”

Bonnie lifted her left foot and placed it on the small wooden block. She watched as Mr Ashton dipped a stiff-bristled brush into the bucket and began vigorously scrubbing her extended leg, paying close attention to her grass stained knee. The water was freezing cold and a wave of gooseflesh rippled up her body. The uncomfortable temperature of the water was as nothing to the brush that scraped across her flesh. The sharp bristles felt like hundreds of tiny needles stinging her tender flesh and she clenched her teeth to remain silent. Her right leg soon replaced her left and all evidence of her tryst in the field was removed from her body.

“Up,” she was ordered as the brush tapped the top of the post to which she was leashed, a thin spray of water caught the gentle afternoon rays of the sun at the force of the blow. Bonnie obeyed instantly, lifting her right leg high and resting her heel on the squared off top of the post. The muscles in her thigh were tight as she straightened back into position, her leg stretched hip-height almost perpendicular to her body.

She took slow, deep breaths, anticipating what was to come. Her leg had been raised for but a moment when the brush was thrust violently against the soft flesh of her sex. The petite, young girl grunted as the tender skin of her vulva was prodded by the myriad tiny, stabbing bristles. The brush was suddenly withdrawn, only to come crashing back against the plump lips of her pussy. Bonnie bit her lip, a barely audible groan escaping as the unexpected pain shot up into her chest.

She had deserved that. A bitch had no place to complain. No one wanted to hear the sounds of an ungrateful bitch. Her bath continued in silence. The worst was over, the initial contact on her sensitive pussy had been agony. Her jaw ached, tensing continuously as the smooth skin of her thighs was scrubbed with merciless efficiency. The instrument of her torture returned once more to her cunt, two final, vicious movements, back and forth across her sex and the brush was dropped back into the metal bucket with a clink and a splash.

Bonnie was left alone to dry, her leg soon began to ache and she hoped she would not cramp. She knew that if that happened she would break position and earn further punishment. She breathed slowly, tensing the muscles in her legs. She almost cried out in relief when the door to the shed creaked open beside her.

“Drink.”

Bonnie took the offered length of hose and knelt down over the bucket. She closed her mouth over one end of the short length of black tubing and inserted the other into the bucket. She immediately began to drink, each mouthful tasting of nothing but rubber. Three long gulps were all she was allowed, her drink ending with a soft kick to her naked bottom. She rose quickly, leaving the hose in the bucket, unsure if this was the right thing to do.

The groundskeeper still made her nervous after all this time. It was a combination of his imposing physique, his brusque manner and the way that he, above all the other staff, treated her like the bitch she was. It had been difficult at first, she had not known how to deal with the constant frustration at being unable to make herself understood. Since her sale she had lost a great many of the freedoms she had taken for granted but not being allowed to speak, communicating only as her master’s did, had truly helped her to be a better bitch. It had taken her a long time for the realisation to be made and all she wished now was for one chance to show her thanks.

“Shoes on,” Morgan ordered, detaching her leash from the post. Her uncomfortable slippers were barely on her feet when the groundskeeper started up the path. “Cover yourself bitch.”

Bonnie pulled her dress down, covering her body, freshly pink from the recent scrubbing. She could no longer feel the cream deep within her, but the weighty sensation of the heavy metal egg in her ass was something she could not ignore. It moved inside her as she walked, the odd sensation unsettling her now she had nothing else occupying her mind.

As they neared the house, Bonnie could hear something other than the soft hiss of the wind in the neatly manicured hedges and the rhythmic crunch of their feet on the path. Her spirits soared as she recognised the soft strains of classical music drifting on the breeze from the house. It was a rare treat and one which made her afternoon complete.

The Mistress was around somewhere and she consciously made her movements more graceful. She had to keep pace with Mr Ashton but she stepped with more purpose, the tiny spikes in her shoes causing greater discomfort. Her head lifted, eyes scanning the distant house, ready to be lowered the moment her Mistress came into view.

The young girl felt the nervous tension in her belly at the thought of meeting her owner. Her Mistress held a special place in her world. It was her Mistress that purchased her and brought her to the estate as a present for Hannibal and Rex. It was to her Mistress that she ultimately rendered all service. Her collar marked her as property, her tattoo as a pet, and both made her ever conscious that her position, her very life, was ever in the hands of her Mistress.

The subject of her thoughts came into view as she was led up the garden path and into the large, walled courtyard at the rear of the house. Her eyes immediately dropped to the path before her and she watched the groundskeeper’s heavy boots, using them to guide her forward. The music was louder now, the beautiful sounds she had no words to describe filled the air. She could stay here all day, listening to the soaring melody but Mr Ashton was leading her past.

She was being taken to the house to be deposited for duty. Her cleansing was due, but after that she would receive new tasks that would complete her third shift of the day, occupying her time until shut-in. She sensed the dogs presence, her bond with her masters letting her know they were close. They would be with the Mistress, she knew. They loved her, doting on her every chance they were given. She spoiled them terribly, but it was nothing they did not deserve. Bonnie was happy they had the chance to see her. She doubted she would see them until shut-in but she knew their mood and smiled as she thought of them bounding excitedly.

There was a part of her that wanted her Mistress to call to Mr Ashton to have him bring her close. Her belly churned with nervousness at the mere presence of the imposing woman, but she longed for her attention. To be called for an inspection, for training or for even a simple report on her activities would be the highlight of her day. The chance to serve the Mistress directly made her chest tighten. She surreptitiously wiped her damp palms on her pinafore, blushing at the way she was reacting.

Her dream was not fulfilled. There was no inquiry from her owner. Her sultry tones were not added to the sensual swell of the music.  Mr Ashton opened the door to the house and silently unclipped the chain from her collar. Bonnie obediently stepped over the threshold and hurried down the hall without a backwards glance, knowing the door behind her had already closed and the groundskeeper, his own duty discharged, would be long gone.

*  *  *  *  *

Bonnie stared at the old bricks of the small walled yard. She squatted, knees spread wide, as she did at this time every day. Her pinafore was a on small hook on the back of the door, her shoes were out of sight, placed carefully on the other side of the closed door. She had little time allotted to her first task, but she rarely needed it.

She quickly checked, for the tenth time, that she was placed over the grate. She could not tell who watched her through the small barred window in the thick wooden door, but they could not have seen her clandestine glance. Her knees almost touched the walls to either side of her and if she wished, she could reach out and touch the rough brick to her front. She knew each and every brick and sought the small, red bunny brick. It was her favourite, the faint pattern of wear forming a little red bunny rabbit on the pocked surface.

She felt movement in her bowels and readied herself .  Her fingers twitched but she did not move her upturned palms from their place on her knees. Her cleansing, like every other aspect of her life, brought with it a series of rules, first among them was her position. She wondered for the thousandth time, what would happen to the egg that had been placed inside her. She could not control what happened to her, but she had long ago realised that this did not prevent her from worrying.

Bonnie’s eyelids fluttered as she voided her bowels. The grate had been set at the very end of the narrow length of yard, the door four feet behind her. She was only a foot away from the wall in front and no one could see her face but she kept her eyes open, not wanting to risk a punishment. Again and again her sphincter tensed, expelling more of her waste into the grate below.

This was her least favourite part of her day. She disliked the noises she made, the loud spluttering explosions echoing in the confined space. She disliked the smell of her waste though she knew it was something that was natural, even her master’s waste was unpleasant. She heard the first of her pellets hit the grate, followed quickly by another.

Her fears about the metal object in her ass remained unfounded. It had not prevented her normal action and nor had it come out. She could feel its weight shift inside her as the muscles tensed and flexed but she was confident now that it would not come out, which only brought another concern to the fore. Would it stay inside her forever? How could it be taken out? But these were questions she could not answer, and she was stupid for even thinking of them. These things did not concern her. She refocused on her task, listening for the tiny clinking sounds as she expelled her pellets.

The three hit the grate almost together, but she had to work them through. Was this the effect of the metal egg? She usually did not take this long. The gruel that she consumed at her daily meal moved through her system with a regulation she found comforting. She knew when her cleansing was due and it allowed her to be on time and in position.

Her bowels now emptied as best she could, Bonnie shuffled awkwardly backwards and leant forward on all fours as soon as room allowed. She crawled back, her movements sure and practiced. She grimaced as her face passed over the grate, but she was gratified to see all five pellets, no longer shining silver, sitting atop the metal grate. At the right moment, she twisted her body to the side and pushed her bottom back, forcing her ass into the air and her head into the ground. Only at this uncomfortable angle could her anus reach the metal tube protruding from the wall.

She had noticed the projection did not look quite right as she entered the open-air cell and now she was learning just how it had changed. Something had been placed around the metal tube, a rubber hose of some kind or so her sensitive flesh told her. She did not know why it was there. What she did know was that it made the usual pipe much larger and she groaned as she pushed her tight sphincter against the stiff tube. She relaxed her ass and pushed backwards, grunting as the thick rubber-cased pipe was forced into her anus.

Once it was past the tight, pink ring of flesh, it was simple process to get in to position. She tensed as she felt the tube slide inside her. Bonnie jumped forward, startled by the sharp stab of pain in her ass. This was not something she had felt before but she quickly realised what had happened. The pipe had bumped into the metal egg and it had been pushed deeper inside. She stopped for only a moment, not yet in position. She could not see how much of the pipe was inside her, but she knew from the bricks below that she was, as yet, too far forward.

She tried to move her body, feebly attempting to find a position that would keep the two foreign objects apart. She was impaled by the rigid pipe and succeeded only in twirling her ass around it. Bonnie grit her teeth and eased her hips back, knowing that time was running out. She felt the wide tube ease past the egg, moving it forward to push against the wall shared with her pussy. The sensation was not something she expected and briefly marvelled at the warm pleasurable feeling that flowed through her sex.

Bonnie waited obediently, distracted by the arousal she could feel blossoming. All thoughts of her burgeoning lust were dashed as the first spurt of cold water exploded into her bottom. The young girl grunted, a high-pitched squeal that she immediately regretted. She remained still and silent as her ass was filled with water, the stream constant after the initial violent burst.

She disliked her cleansing intently, but she never thought to complain. It was a way in which she could be less filthy, something that was always on her mind. Miss Burton hated attending to her during her cleansing. She found the process and Bonnie, disgusting, and told her so on every occasion. She had almost forgotten what it was like to use a toilet, a thought that she could not escape each time she cleaned the countless porcelain bowls throughout the house. She had been tempted more than once, just to sit on the beautiful white seats, just for a second. To her credit she never had, but the very thought made her instantly ashamed. Such things were not for her any more.

Bonnie waited patiently as the water filled her. She knew the flow would stop just as it became painful and stayed on her knees a full minute once this point was reached. It had been a long time since she had broken position before the end of the flow. She was confident in her knowledge now. She was proud she had learnt this trick. She was happy to learn any behaviour, but she felt a special pride from learning to conduct herself properly while unsupervised. She never knew if this was truly the case, but she liked to think it was.

Bonnie eased herself slowly off the pipe, clenching her sphincter to prevent any sudden discharge. She knew there would be some, it was inevitable, but it was her duty to keep it to a minimum. Besides, she needed all the water she could get to remove her waste. If whoever was collecting her saw her filth, she would be punished. At least today she still needed to pee, she would have a second chance to wash away the evidence.

The young girl crawled delicately to her grate and squatted slowly, losing small amounts of liquid as she moved. She could feel the thin streams trickling down her thighs and clenched tighter. The moment she was in position, muscles relaxed. The cold enema exploded from her ass onto the grate below her. She heard the light clink of the pellets sliding across the metal ridges as the force of the flow washed away the foul-smelling paste that she had voided minutes before.

The gruel that was prepared for her looked very similar on its way out. It had been two years since she had passed any real solids but it was something she almost never thought about. It had become such a part of her daily routine that she could no longer imagine what it had been like. Her life before her purchase was like something that had happened to another person. It had a dream-like quality to it, which came to her in occasional flashes, nonsensical episodes whose reality she often questioned.

The first, explosive ejaculation of from her anus over, she now expelled the remaining enema in a constant steady stream. It was almost a minute before the flow lessened, finally diminishing to the occasional soft spurt.  Bonnie glanced between her widely-spread legs, dismayed to see a few small clumps of sludge collected in the corners of the grate, three of her pellets sitting amongst it.

She sighed quietly and angled her body to the corner, emptying her bladder in a long stream of dark, yellow urine. Bonnie sighed thankfully as she watched the shiny silver pellets washed clean. She knew the alternative but still, she would have cleaned the small metal spheres properly before disappointing everyone and earning a mark.

The moment her flow dwindled, the last few drops clinging to her lips, Bonnie reached between her wide-spread legs and collected the five balls. She shuffled awkwardly backwards, keeping her knees wide, almost scraping the rough walls of the narrow enclosure. She reached behind her and placed the pellets in a metal bowl held in a small sconce by the door. Her task completed she moved back to the far end and knelt forward, head resting on the floor, hands obediently behind her. All she had to do now was wait. Someone would attend to her to complete her cleansing. She hoped it would not be Miss Burton. She was lucky to be attended at all, she knew, but she preferred Mr Morgan’s stern disapproval to the young maid’s venomous attention.

The last rays of the setting sun, reflected from the warm, cream bricks of the house. The high walls of the enclosure prevented almost any illumination from reaching it’s floor, and in the dirty half-light of the small yard, Bonnie knelt patiently, the gritty surface below her grinding against the soft skin of her forehead.

She felt the cool air of twilight waft across her body. Her ass was thrust into the air, the moisture of her cleansing drying slowly on her exposed holes. She was accustomed to waiting, it was her place. She usually used the time to think about her masters and this was no exception. Hannibal and Rex would have finished their evening meal by now. She wondered what it would have been, her reward the low grumbling of her empty stomach.

She distracted herself with thoughts of where they were now. If she knew them, and she smiled confidently at her knowledge, they would be lazing around their courtyard, waiting until the last possible moment to come inside. The enclosed section of their run allowed them access around three sides of the house, but they rarely used it at night. For that at least she was thankful. She was not allowed-

The young girl’s body tensed as she heard the click of the lock. She knew someone must have observed her and she was proud that she had been in position. The door creaked open a moment later and her spirits slumped as she heard the disapproving noises of Miss Burton. The maid wasted no time on pleasantries and, after a brief inspection, sent two short spurts of ice-cold water against her exposed ass. Bonnie remained perfectly still but could not prevent her sphincter from flexing instinctively. 

“Don’t start that vileness. Bad enough I have to be here, smelling your filth. If I had my way you’d live out here. Bitch like you doesn’t deserve half of what the Mistress allows.”

Bonnie had heard it all before and remained silent until given the command to dress. Miss Burton had not stepped foot into the enclosure. She never did. Bonnie quickly donned her brief uniform and collected the small metal bowl containing her pellets. She hurried down the hall, the maids invective following her as she went.

The young girl realised again how lucky she was. The Mistress had given her a life which she fought hard to live up to. How much worse would things be if Miss Burton was her owner and not just a superior. The maid was clear on what she thought of bitches, adamant on their true place. She didn’t think there was anything she could ever do to make Miss Burton feel any differently about her, but she would not stop trying.

The bowl safely deposited under the bench by the kitchen door, Bonnie raced to her position to receive her final assignments of the day. The delicious aromas wafting from the kitchen were a torment she desperately wished to absent herself from. She wasn’t entirely sure what it was, but she smelt meat and her mouth filled with saliva the moment it had reached her. She knew she should think less about food. She was fed, the gruel the chef’s own recipe, and kept healthy. She had overheard some of the ingredients but had little idea what cloves or castorol were. She didn’t know why her diet was so different, but everything about her life was different. She often wondered what other bitches ate. She had never met one, never even heard them mentioned, but she knew other houses must have them.

“The ground floor of the rear of the house is to be swept, including the workshop.”

Bonnie shuddered at the mention of the room, thinking again of the thick metal egg that rested inside her. She curtseyed to the steward and made her way immediately down the hall. She had fourteen rooms to clean and only a small handbrush with which to clean them. She hoped she would be able to accomplish the task in the time allotted.

*  *  *  *  *

The young girl was almost borne to the ground by the exuberant hound. Rex had pounced upon her the instant she walked through the arched doorway to their room. Hannibal was already dozing on his bed and only raised his head at her entrance.

Bonnie took the weight of the dog on her shoulders and hugged his shaggy body to her. She kissed the panting wolfhound, shivering with delight as his long, dextrous tongue slipped past her lips. His greeting made, Rex pushed her away and began circling her eagerly. The young girl danced to the far side of the room and slipped her shoes from her feet. She slid them into her cage and quickly stripped her pinafore from her body, hanging it neatly from the hook provided.

She licked her lips, tasting again the remnant of the rich sauce that had accompanied the dogs’ recent meal. She felt a thrill inside her pussy at the gift she had received as part of her lover’s kiss. She delighted in these small presents her masters allowed. They took care of her and all she could do was try her best to take care of them.

Naked but for the thick leather belt that remained around her waist, she was available now until morning. Once she had entered the room at curfew she was not to leave. She could not leave. The small door to the run was open, as it would remain all night, but she was unable to use it. Mr Morgan would know the moment she set foot outside this room. She hadn’t understood the complete explanation but she knew her collar would signal her disobedience. She had seen what would happen during the test she had been shown and had never once broken curfew.

The nights belonged to her masters. She would not be called upon or required for other duties which made her recent night spent outdoors all the worse. Her poor behaviour had denied them of her use and she could only hope they forgave her. She felt Rex sniff between her legs, his hot breath sending a shiver through her body, and she knew he would wish to make up for her absence.

Bonnie sank to her knees and was mounted without delay. She watched Hannibal lying on his bed, looking up at her occasionally, disinterest in his eyes. Once she was free and cleaned she would go to him and beg his forgiveness. Rex always forgave her transgressions. He knew she was just a bitch and that she did her best but Hannibal held her to a higher standard. She would have to work for his forgiveness.

She moaned as Rex shifted impatiently, his swollen cock pulling against her tightly closed vagina. Bonnie reached back to pat his legs, calming him down. She smiled through the discomfort. He was always like this at night, eager to be in and out. He would allow her to suckle at his member for only a brief time after their coupling. He was so very different from Hannibal, but he knew what he liked and she had been a quick study.

Bonnie screamed as the thick knot finally slipped past her labia, bringing with it a short squirt of cum that had been dammed behind it. Her masters did not mind if she made a little noise and she enjoyed the freedom of expression they allowed her. She crawled to her bowl, ass high, and squatted over the shallow metal container with practiced ease.

She emptied the contents of her pussy, smiling as the thin, pearlescent liquid began to cover the metal bottom. She tensed her vagina twice more, confident that she had expelled all of Rex’s ejaculate. Bonnie looked to Hannibal but he did not want her yet. She was free to consume the nectar she had collected and quickly brought the bowl to her lips, watching the slimy mass slide down the side of the metal bowl and into her waiting mouth.

She swirled the cum around, savouring the taste and the volume that Rex had given her. There was another small mouthful still in the bowl and she greedily supped it, enjoying the only supplement she was permitted. She would not eat again until morning and even that left her hungry despite devouring every vile drop.

Her master’s gifts were her only chance to consume something other than the foul gruel that was made exclusively for her. She wasted nothing, wiping her pussy clean and licking as much of the bowl as she could reach. She looked to Rex but his member had almost disappeared into its sheath. There were a few drops on the floor where she had been mounted and she hurried there now, to lick them eagerly.

Unable to find any more cum, the young girl padded quietly towards Hannibal, who remained lying in his bed. Bonnie knelt low and looked up at the large dog. Hannibal looked at her briefly before lowering his head to the pillow once more. Bonnie smiled and crawled carefully onto the large bed. She curled her body behind the shaggy hound, settling the curve of his hips into hers. She lifted her leg slightly, allowing the long tail to flick comfortable between her legs as she spooned her body against Hannibal’s warmth. She rested her head on the pillow and kissed the top of his head, pressing her soft lips into the bony ridge. She draped an arm across his shoulders and relaxed for the first time in what felt like forever. The sleepy teen gently caressed the long, strong legs of the hound as they both slowly drifted into sleep.

*  *  *  *  *

Bonnie woke as a long, hot tongue snaked across her face.  She opened her eyes but could see little in the pale light. She looked sleepily at the far side of the room and could see the softest of illuminations through the door to the run. It was late, well after lights out but she had no real knowledge of the time. She opened her mouth to welcome the questing tongue, more by instinct that of any real volition of her own.

She reached up sleepily to pat her master, thanking him for the kiss. She came quickly to full wakefulness as the tongue slid further inside, tickling the roof of her mouth. She knew then that it was Hannibal above her, and she remembered she was in his bed. The moment her broke the kiss, she crawled out of bed and offered herself to be mounted.

Her back arched acutely, thrusting her buttocks into the air. She reached back and slid two fingers across the small button at the top of her slit. She had only just woken from a deep slumber and knew her pussy was not ready to accept her master’s cock. It would not take long but she sensed Hannibal’s urgency. He was usually a considerate lover, enjoying her taste before he mounted her, but she had abandoned him last night and she knew he was unforgiving of her poor behaviour.

She was almost pushed to the ground as the full weight of the large dog fell upon her shoulders. Bonnie braced herself, pushing her ass out to open her pussy for use. She knew there was nothing more she could do and steeled herself for the pain she knew would come. She mewled her soft encouragement as she felt the thrusting hips pushed fervently against her bottom.

Her gentle sounds of encouragement turned to squeals of pain as the questing cock found her opening. Hannibal drove home, cock expanding rapidly once he sensed the warm canal of the young girl’s pussy enveloping his throbbing member.  Bonnie pushed back, ignoring the pain and ensuring her master grew to full length inside her. The young girl grunted at the frantic fucking, the thick cock sawing rapidly in and out of her plump cunt. She groaned as the scalding hot cock became engorged, the thick knot at its base swelling, locking him inside.

Bonnie moaned, the pain from the initial penetration gone, as spurt after spurt of hot cum burst inside her pussy. She was instantly contrite, knowing the volume of ejaculate that was pumped into her pussy was something she had neglected. Her poor behaviour caused her pain and discomfort, but more importantly it impacted her masters.

Bonnie gently caressed Hannibal’s large front paw, stroking the long grey hair lovingly. She couldn’t apologise in any other way but she knew the hound understood. There was nothing more she could do now but wait for nature to take its course. She was locked to her lover in an intimate embrace, one for which she strove with every waking moment.

Bonnie knew Hannibal and Rex loved her and with her pussy full, not only with the thick red cock of her master, but also the copious ejaculate he had deposited, and unable to move, she felt a connection unique in her experience. She was a possession to her Mistress, an object, and she knew, a nuisance to the other staff but to the hounds she was so much more. She belonged to them of course, but it went deeper than that, she knew.

The young girl arched her back, raising her shoulders, pushing against the hairy chest of the hound. She loved the feel of her whole body pressed against the warmth, the pulse of his rapidly beating heart resounding through her body. Bonnie smiled as she felt a dribble of liquid on the back of her neck. Hannibal’s lust had been strong and he had worked her hard. She giggled lightly as the long string of drool slid down her neck and across her breasts, tickling her sensitive skin.

Bonnie was suddenly thirsty but she would have to wait. She would be able to drink soon, her reward the salty nectar that filled her pussy. The longer Hannibal stayed hard, the more she knew there would be. She had no idea how long her pussy had been filled to capacity, the room was dark, illuminated only by the wan light of the moon through the door to the run. She had no way of measuring time anyway.

Bonnie leaned over and kissed the lean front leg tenderly. She shifted her weight and reached back to stroke Hannibal’s flank, letting him know she was happy to wait upon his needs. The sweating girl smiled once again, knowing how silly she was being. She existed to serve her Master’s needs, her happiness wasn’t really anything worth mentioning. Nonetheless she was happy. As long as this could be her reward at the end of her day, somehow everything else didn’t seem to matter too much. She twisted her head to the side and reached out to kiss the long, hot tongue that hung from the dog’s panting mouth.

Hannibal licked the young girl’s face once then shifted, stepping over the young girl’s body and turned to the side. Bonnie knew Hannibal was ready for release. She planted both her hands firmly on the floor and squeezed her pussy, moaning softly as the muscles of her sex gripped the bulbous shaft inside her. Bonnie gasped as a wave of pleasure surged up into her belly. She could feel the movement of her master’s cum inside her pussy, sloshing around within her tight canal.

Bonnie readied herself for the imminent break. The thought of the amount of liquid locked in her pussy sent a shiver of excitement through her body. She wanted it all. Her bowl was on the far side of the room, maybe she could…

Bonnie slid her left knee forward ever so slightly, followed by her right. She shuffled her arms as gently as she could, easing her body forward a fraction of an inch at a time. She had left it too late. If she had moved straight away, Hannibal would have come, now though, he simply stood still, ignoring her subtle efforts to edge forward. The young girl sighed, knowing it was a selfish thought anyway. She settled in, waiting for the dog to be ready. The moment he slipped out she would be ready to scurry forward and get her cunt over her bowl. She licked her lips at the thought.

Minutes later she felt Hannibal pull and knew instinctively that the moment had come. She tensed her body, flexing her pussy to ease the transition of the large knot from her cunt. She felt it move, interminably slowly then in one sudden rush, the thick bulb of flesh burst between her plump, pink lips. Bonnie grunted, a deep primal sound, as the knot distended the small opening of her sex.

In seconds she was on the other side of the room, squatting over her bowl. She had positioned her cunt perfectly over the shallow dish and grinned with abandon as she heard the contents of her pussy drip into the metal bowl. Bonnie squeezed her breasts, kneading them gently as her cunt was emptied of the canine ejaculate she wished so desperately to taste. She licked her lips wildly, unable to hold back her welling excitement.

She had thought it would be a lot and the length of time it took to empty her completely validated her initial assumptions. She couldn’t delay though, she knew that with each passing moment she was allowing more of Hannibal’s gift to be lost. With one last flex of her muscles she sat back, lifted the bowl from the floor and tipped it to her mouth.

Bonnie moaned with pleasure as she felt the still warm ejaculate slide over her tongue, filling her mouth with the first delicious swallow. She knew she should have tried to savour the gift she had been given but she had been too eager to have the exquisite liquid in her belly. It did little to assuage the hunger that was her constant companion but it was all she had. A second, smaller mouthful was quickly consumed before her bowl ran dry. She licked the rim once, to remove any of the thicker, stickier ejaculate that may have remained, before hurrying back to her master.

Hannibal had remained standing, waiting for her to return. The naked teen kissed the dog once on the snout before sliding underneath his body. In the pale light, she could see the still-swollen member hanging from his belly, the thick shaft bobbing with each slow pulse. She saw the tiny droplets of clear liquid that spurted from the dog’s cock sparkle in the soft light from the door.

Bonnie positioned her face under the throbbing cock and took it tenderly in her mouth. She closed her lips around the hot shaft and raised her head, sliding her lips past the widening bulge until she felt the shaggy hair of her lover’s belly tickle her nose. Her tongue squirmed underneath the heavy cock, moaning softly as each fresh pulse shot the salty nectar down her throat.

Hannibal shifted his weight and Bonnie reluctantly relinquished the heavily-veined shaft. She remained in position, luxuriating in the gentle rain from the dog’s cock, shuffling her body quietly along the hard tiles to keep her face directly under the bouncing shaft. Bonnie opened her mouth and closed her eyes, catching what she could but enjoying the soft fall of ejaculate with good grace.

She seized these opportunities every chance she could. It was not often during the day that she was allowed the time to spoil herself, her other duties a constant call. Hannibal knew that even someone like her needed to feel special every now and then. A surge of emotion welled up inside her and she reached out to hug the large hound that stood above her. She loved him with all her heart. She loved Rex too, and the Mistress, and she knew she belonged to all three, but her heart belonged to Hannibal.

Bonnie opened her eyes when she heard the muted click of sharp nails on the hard tiles. Rex had returned from his sojourn along the run. She prepared to service him should he wish but was reluctant to relinquish the steady trickle of fresh nectar from Hannibal. He wasn’t usually a night dog, almost never waking her as Hannibal did, but she had to be ready anyway. The young girl jumped at the first touch of the wet tongue between her legs, but quickly recovered, spreading them widely to allow her master access. Bonnie moaned as the long, malleable tongue lapped at her sex, removing the last sticky remnants of her lovemaking. Hannibal continued to drip on her face and the young girl closed her eyes once more, thinking on just how lucky she was.

The time between each spurt from Hannibal’s cock increased and Bonnie knew that he would soon soften and retract once more into the sheath that hid his beautiful member. She opened her eyes to gaze on the thick red shaft once more. It was hard to see in the darkness, but she locked her eyes on its length, still now and rapidly shrinking. She pushed up on to her elbows and stretched upward, kissing the pointed tip before she lost it for good.

Hannibal trotted away and Bonnie turned her attention to Rex. She had been trained to allow her body to be used as her superiors saw fit, focusing instead on the task at hand. Now that Hannibal no longer required her, she sat up and beckoned to her other master. Rex stopped licking her pussy and stepped forward, his tail wagging wildly. She opened her mouth obediently and presented her tongue.

Rex licked her eagerly, his long pink tongue sliding over her own. He licked her entire face, cleaning the salty liquid that covered her. She had planned on sliding as much as she could into her mouth, but she happily acceded to her master’s wishes. She had already received her reward and she could not ask for more. Rex was content with her kisses and soon strolled to his own bed, flopping his lanky body down as if he was utterly exhausted. Bonnie smiled at his behaviour. He was so melodramatic. She loved that word. She loved to listen to the Mistress and Mr Morgan talk. She didn’t know most of the words but she loved their sound. When she was able to put one in context she clung to the knowledge, cherishing it as she did her time with her masters.

Hannibal finished his drink and Bonnie watched him return to his bed from her position in the centre of the room. Her masters were tired. She wouldn’t be needed again this night. The young girl sighed gently, her face sticky and her pussy still throbbing from the recent fucking. No matter how many times she was mounted she felt stretched and her sex throbbed for a little while afterwards. She loved the sensation, glorying in the knowledge that it meant she had pleased her masters, but it was a little uncomfortable.

Bonnie raised herself tiredly to all fours and softly crawled towards Hannibal’s bed. She mewled softly, begging permission to enter his bed. There was no response and she knew better than to ask a second time. She knew she would receive no solace from Rex. He never allowed her to sleep in his bed. She crawled forlornly to her own corner of the room and straightened out the thin blanket that was her only bedding. It was scrunched into a tiny ball and wedged behind her cage. Rex had been at it again, and she could tell, even in the darkness that the tear had lengthened.

Bonnie doubled the threadbare blanket and laid it down beside her cage. At least she hadn’t been put away. She didn’t think she would ever get used to sleeping on the cold tiles, the tiny blanket doing nothing to soften the hard surface beneath, but it was preferable to being put in her cage. Her blanket was not allowed in the cage and she could not stretch out once inside. She was unable to be of service to her masters,  and that was what made her shudder as she thought of the metal cage beside her.

She had done well today, she was sure. The Mistress was disappointed with her and she had been fitted with a new device to help improve her behaviour. She tried to think back on what had led her to this predicament but she couldn’t pin it down to any one incident.  She had simply not been good enough. She needed many more days like today to make her Mistress think more kindly towards her.

Bonnie looked over at the sleeping dogs and her heart ached at the thought of separation. She would be lost without them and she knew they would miss her terribly. The Mistress would find them another bitch but it wouldn’t be the same, she knew.  She would be better. She would be obedient and compliant no matter what. The young girl laid her head on her arm and drifted into an uneasy sleep, her fitful dreams filled with empty fields and lonely halls, devoid of any presence but her own.

6 comments:

  1. Extremely well written chapter. Literally plunging right into the thickness of the action right from paragraph one sets the tone, but still there's finesse here, with a keen eye for detail of surroundings, train of thought, behaviour -both animal and human- and all-round upholstering of the telling in a way that makes this a fascinating view into an alternate reality rather than just being a story...
    Extra-ordinary.
    JJ

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    Replies
    1. I agree. The story is deliciously wicked. I really like the protaganist's resignation to her fate while
      finding solace through her relationship with the dogs. Fun read!

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  2. I love the story, but would love some back story. What are the rules of the universe you are in? Was she always a slave? tell us more of the initial period. Speaking of period, does Bonnie have one? If not why not? How was she trained?
    The story is great, stands on its own, but if you are going to do more, the past is prologue

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  3. This is the first chapter. I think it is often very easy to lose sight of that fact in serialised stories. You don’t expect to know the entire backstory of characters or their world after five minutes of a movie, but I have noticed that the tendency is there for this to be expected in bdsm erotica. Across the genre as a whole, the readers seem to be a very voracious bunch. I have done it myself, a story ended and I didn’t want it to. But these tales are what they are, to be accepted for what they are and as a reader we just have to go along for the ride. I appreciate the feedback though, you never know exactly what will strike a chord and help me to become a better writer or what may just make its way into a story. Unfortunately I have limited time and can only get through so much. I would love to be able to pump out a chapter a week but the nature of the beast is that I get through what I can, when I can.

    It has been suggested that serialised stories are bad and that a writer should wait until the story is complete. Sorry but that doesn’t work for me. It would be 2018 before anyone read a word I had written. Yes my stories are long, it is just how I write. Using the word epic sounds pretentious, but they are lengthy. It has been noted that they are more like a long-running TV series than a movie and I am very comfortable with this evaluation. It wasn’t a conscious decision but I was very tired of seeing stories that took less than an hour to read. I’ve never really been a fan of short stories, preferring the meaty novel or the trilogy or series. I do hope I can keep everything together over time and rely on you guys to keep me on the straight and narrow. See me stray – let me know.

    In general I hate prologues. I find them to serve little purpose other than to feed exposition to lazy readers by lazy writers. George R R Martin has used them extremely well, providing a small window into his world but having nothing to do with the main characters in the story to come. The examples of when they work are few and far between though. Generally, the story would have been better without such a device and the information provided within, inserted into the story in a more seamless way. Not everything always has to be explained, some things can be implied and others can be left to the readers imagination entirely. I like to use Indiana Jones as an example when this issue comes up. In Raiders we see the story simply begin (with one of the best devised action sequences on film). We have all we need to know about what is going on, and Indy’s backstory comes later as the story progresses. A story isn’t always served by starting at the very beginning.

    The core of why the Star Wars prequels were such an atrocious idea was that we didn’t need to know why Darth Vader became what we saw in the original trilogy. We had all the backstory we needed in a few lines of dialogue in the very first movie. It really was a story that didn’t need to be told and the resulting excremental mess was the greatest theatrical tragedy since someone decided that five Police Academy movies just weren’t enough.

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  4. I had to split this in two (yeah I know, I'm a verbose fucker).

    The answers to some of the questions posed are there in the first chapter (eg. Bonnie was a simple maid before she was purchased, not a slave). The rest will no doubt be answered in the chapters to come. Keep asking though, these types of questions help to keep me on my toes. I have had a few questions posed that have really made me think and I can’t stress enough how valuable you guys are in my writing process. Nothing I do is set in stone (when I sit down to write, I often have no idea where I will end up – it may sound naff but even I am sometimes surprised by how the story unfolds). I have a very specific vision and will adhere to the theme of each story like a terrier but I am always open to ideas. I have secretly slotted in a few revisions in my stories that were prompted by a reader to tie up a loose end or fix an inconsistency.

    Some ideas just don’t sit well with a story, but others are spot on and I have already incorporated some into my stories. In fact the entire idea for Between Two Worlds came from a reader. A few months ago I had no intention whatsoever to write a story like this but something came up in a conversation and the old lightbulb just flickered into life. I never know from where inspiration will come. Who knows what offhand comment or which link that I am sent will next inspire me.

    I know this has addressed way more than you ever proposed, and I went off on a couple of tangents, but that's just how my mind works :) I have been thinking about the genre in general a fair bit lately, and wondering at my place in it, and I guess what you said made that kind of bubble to the surface. I'm probably answering about 5 different conversations here and some musings of my own.

    Thanks a lot for reading and for questioning.

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  5. I usually do not read bestiality stories but this one was so different that i had to finish it. It was not so much the dog/human coupling but more the ultimate degradation that this girl was subjected to. Even though she loves it and is devoted to her two masters she is still one of the lowest type of slave to i can think of, a slave to two dogs.
    One other interesting thing is that nothing is said about her training. There are hints that she was a 'regular' maid and not necessarily an intimate dog lovers therefore the training must have been especially hard when she was broken to her duties as a slave and as a dog's bitch. Maybe this will be revealed in some other chapter.
    Thank you for sharing your stories.

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