The K9 Queen - Victoria’s Story

A note from the author of this tale...

It was after a brief conversation with a fan I met an event that the subject of how my career started came up. Much has been written about me, most of which is vastly untrue. Which is probably my own fault as I’ve never taken the time to tell my story. As I approach my forties I’ve decided that for better or worse it is now time to set the record straight.

I’m going to ignore the advice of my literary agent who wanted me to glamourise this account. I shall tell my story the way I remember it. Most people already seem to either love or hate me and I don’t think what I write here will change their minds. The process of producing this has been immensely fun and emotionally traumatic in equal measure, which I suppose sums up my life quite well.

All I ask is that you keep an open mind and not judge me too harshly.

All my love,

Victoria x

~~~~~~~~~~

I was born nearly forty years ago during a time of great political upheaval that led to Britain descending into a one-party dictatorship. My mother was one of the working girls in a brothel, I’ve no idea who my father was. I was lucky, as whorehouses go the one I grew up in was quite nice. I even got a proper education as well as the street smarts the working girls taught me. My mother named me Victoria because she thought that if I had a posh name I might be able to take a step up in life from the middle-ranking whore that she was, and that I was for a time too.  

After I finished school I followed the family tradition and used my youth and innocent looks to good effect. I’m slim but have a nice curve to my hips, a pinched waist, long slender legs, a perky medium-sized bust, dark red hair and a pretty face. The madam in the whore house made a small fortune off me during the time I worked there. I didn’t realise at the time how happy I was in those days, I was too focused on making a better life for myself. Which I managed to do, although not in the way I thought I would.

Back then, the best a whore like me could hope for in bettering herself was either working in a factory or in service to a rich family. I thought that being a servant might afford me more opportunities and I hoped that I could be one of the lucky few who found a kind, caring family to serve and have something akin to a comfortable life, perhaps even find a husband and settle down to raise a family.

In order to be taken on in service to one of the better houses I required training. As soon as I had saved enough money I left the brothel and secured a place in a hospitality college, although I kept a handful of regulars going to help pay for my studies. Two years later, at the age of eighteen, I graduated and was chosen to work as a maid for what I thought was a nice, respectable family. That was a hard-learned lesson, first impressions are often deceiving.

The man of the house was an influential politician and high-ranking party member. He was rich, powerful, charismatic and a complete bastard. I hated him. Within hours of arriving at the house he beat and fucked me until I could barely walk. If he did that in the whorehouse they’d have cut his balls off, but I was a long way from the relative safety of my former profession. I could have left, and should of, but for two things. The chief reason was that if I could get a few years under my belt in a prestigious house like this then I’d be able to work anywhere, giving me a greater chance of the elusive comfortable life I sought. 

And secondly, his wife was kind and sweet and protected me as far as she was able, which made life in the house just about bearable. As did their daughter, Sarah, a pretty blonde girl who was not unkind to me, we even became friends of a sort. At least in private anyway, in public she couldn’t even acknowledge me beyond asking me to do her bidding.

About a year after I arrived, when I was almost nineteen, Sarah had her twenty-first birthday. She celebrated as society dictated with her family in a very formal affair and again on another night with her friends at a much more informal and fun party. But Sarah was (and still is!) a rather wild sort of girl, so once the traditional events were done with she kept on partying. A week or so after the celebration with her family she surprised me by inviting me out with her. She’d exhausted all of her friends and wanted to make the most of finally being able to legally drink and wanted company in the bar. I borrowed one of Sarah’s dresses and felt like a princess with my first taste of real elegance and splendour. It was a wonderful night, until we left to go home, where the joys of the evening came to an abrupt halt.

Having already been rebuked for her behaviour with her friends in recent days, Sarah didn’t want to use the chauffeur because it would alert her father to yet another night out on the town. I’d never driven a car in my life so Sarah drove us into town. The problem was that by the end of the night she was so drunk she could barely walk, let alone drive. I didn’t want to get in the car but the streets of London are no place for a woman on her own, drunk or sober, especially after dark. So Sarah driving seemed the least worst option. I can’t remember exactly what happened, one minute we were driving along and the next I woke up in the hospital with my wrist handcuffed to the bed. We’d both suffered only minor cuts and bruises and concussions. But the crash had left two people dead and a third person seriously injured.

I naively thought Sarah’s father would use his influence to get us out of this mess but the opposite proved to be true. It didn’t help my plight that Sarah told them I was driving, I denied it of course, which meant they were unable to say for sure who was telling the truth. So they convicted us both. Sarah’s lies didn’t save her, all she did was drag me down with her. Facing ignominy and ruin at his daughter’s actions, Sarah’s father, who was never one to miss an opportunity, actually strengthened his position in the party by taking a harsh stance on his own daughter’s fate. And in the politically fucked up country we live in it went down very well with both the party hierarchy and the gullible masses.

We were sentenced to profitable amends. This meant they could do whatever they bloody well liked with us, so long as it achieved the maximum amount of profit for the country. By profit, I mean literally that, cold hard cash. Some of the poorer folk spent years toiling on farms as slave labour, others were conscripted into the army and many were put to work in factories. I thought our fate would be obvious, young, pretty girls were usually placed in government-licensed brothels, and if they were beautiful enough and well-educated, which Sarah and I were, then they were often given over for the exclusive use of the party bigwigs. But Sarah’s father needed to distance himself from us and prove a point that he could be hardline when needed, so he ensured we’d have not only a very harsh fate but also not be close at hand to embarrass him in the future.

After a sentence of profitable amends people usually wait in a holding facility for a short period until the judiciary decides how to make the most money from them. Sarah and I were taken to one such place and put in sparse cells next to each other. Given that our looks is what was going to earn them money, I thought we were at least safe from physical harm. I was very wrong. The guards took turns beating and raping us for two days. Once again, this was Sarah’s father’s doing, ensuring we had the harshest treatment possible and making sure the great and good of the party knew about it. By the third day I couldn’t take any more of the treatment they were dishing out to us; I was utterly broken. If I had a way to end my life I would have done so.

On the fourth morning, the cell door opened and the first thing that hit me wasn’t the guard but the smell of perfume and the unmistakable sound of high heels on the concrete floor. A tall, slim, impeccably dressed lady stood there looking at me. She was in her mid-forties, with dark brown hair slicked back into a tight ponytail. She wore white gloves on her hands and smoked a cigarette through an old-fashioned holder, like something from a 1950s movie. She was as beautiful a woman as I’d ever seen and held an unmistakable air of authority.

"They're both a bit worn, I thought you’d only had them for three days?" she said in a very upper-class accent.

I was so taken with shock by this woman’s arrival that I did not see the governor of the facility standing beside her.

"As instructed, we’ve put them to use while they are here, and we’ve used them well."

“I can see that," she said, then looked at me, “stand up,” she ordered.

I did as I was told and stood in front of her, naked, bruised and battered. She walked around me, looking me over carefully, prodding me here and there and inspecting my teeth. I even had to bend over, spread my butt cheeks and show her my vulva.

“She’s in better shape than the other one.”

“The blonde gave us trouble, this one is more biddable.”

They were talking about Sarah, I knew from her screams over the last few days that she had been given a harder time of it than me.

“Very well, I’ll pay your price. Have them cleaned up and sent to me at once. And make sure they are not touched again, they are mine now, understand?”

“Of course, I’ll see to the arrangements at once.”

Then they left and the cell door slammed shut. A short time later I was handcuffed and hooded then bundled naked into a van, I felt the sharp prick of a needle and everything went black.

~~~~~~~~~~

The pain in my body and head struck me as soon as I opened my eyes. The first thing I saw was Sarah sitting on a bed opposite me, she was almost smiling, but not quite. I was in a bed, a nice fluffy bed with lovely plump pillows. I was naked and had been washed and cleaned, even my nails had been painted. The windowless room was simple but clean and well-furnished, like a twin bedroom at a mid-range hotel, which is where I thought we were for a brief moment.

"I don't know where we are but it doesn’t seem so bad here," Sarah said, but I was less optimistic.

"How long have we been here?" I replied groggily.

"Not sure, I've only been awake an hour or so."

“Have you seen anyone yet, guards, or that woman?”

“No, nothing. I can hear noises outside though, footsteps and muffled voices.”

She handed me a bottle of water and I drank it down greedily, then I noticed something else.

"Hey, my pubes have gone?"

"Mine too," Said Sarah.

The door unlocked and the ponytailed woman stepped in.

"Come with me ladies," she said and walked away without checking that we were following her.

We followed her, naked and barefoot through a large, lavish mansion, passing a maid in black and white in the hall who bowed slightly to her Mistress but didn't so much as acknowledge Sarah and I.

The woman led us up a spiral staircase to the roof. It was a nice warm day and there was a cool breeze making my nipples stand out like bullets. Straight away it was obvious that we were on an island, there was no sign of the mainland, just the ocean as far as the eye could see. There was no going anywhere, hence why we weren't handcuffed or bound in any way, there was nowhere to escape to. The island was not very big, maybe a mile or so long and half a mile wide, it was small enough that I could see the whole of it from up here. Every inch of the place looked perfectly kept.

There is no escape, the mainland is over a hundred and forty miles away,” said the woman, confirming exactly what I’d just worked out for myself. “My island is in international waters. My word is law. I could put a bullet in your brain if the notion took me. No one can save you here, you're mine now.”

She let that sink in for a few moments then said, “Follow me."

She led us back through the house, along marble-floored hallways lined with oil paintings, passing two more servants on the way and eventually to a room that had the appearance of an office of sorts. It was spacious and dimly lit with bookcases lining one wall. A large ornate wooden desk dominated one end, behind which the woman had sat, leaving Sarah and I standing there looking around at the plush furnishings. It reminded me a little of Sarah’s father’s study.

"You two represent an investment that I intend to recoup. I make movies and one way or another they always turn a profit. They are films of a very specific nature, I like too…”

“Ah for fucks sake, you’re going to turn us into porn whores? Fucking brilliant. I’ll take the bullet thanks."

Sarah’s outburst made me jump. I couldn’t believe she was speaking to this woman like that, she held the power of life and death over us, what on earth was Sarah thinking? I intended to live and Sarah seemed to be making that prospect rather more difficult.

"Sarah, there are plenty of ways I can earn from you. I’ll make more money if you cooperate but if you insist on being difficult then we can do things the hard way.”

“Fuck you lady. Get the gun out and let's be done with this shit. I’m no whore.”

“So be it.”

She pressed an unseen button on the underside of her desk and the door opened. A moment later two large guys in black came in and dragged Sarah out of the room.

“See ya, Vic, good luck,” she said with a smile, apparently happy with her fate as they dragged her off.

The woman turned to me as if nothing had happened.

She raised a smile and said, “Victoria, how do you feel about making a movie with a dog? I could force you but to be honest I'd rather not, it's tedious and the results are so much better if you are willing.”

“Er, a dog?”

“Yes, you know, zoophilia, bestiality…dog fucking.”

Jesus Christ, dog fucking? Somehow I managed to keep a neutral facial expression though.

“Don’t decide just yet, I want to show you something,” she said and stood up.

She pulled back a small red velvet curtain on the wall opposite the bookcases which revealed a one-way window to a room much like the cell at the holding facility. Sarah was standing in the room, naked and scared. Was I going to watch her being executed? I couldn’t bear that. A minute later three large grey coloured hounds were let in.

"The majority of the dogs here are trained to fuck humans, but these three in particular are trained to do it by force,” said the woman. “They won't let her be, they'll harass her until she gives them what they want. Don't worry, they won't hurt her. Well, they won't kill her, we have different dogs for that. Snuff movies sell for a fortune but it’s a niche market even by my standards."

A shiver went up my spine at the casual mention of death. I was sure she meant it too. If she wanted she could have dogs rip us to pieces. And I was also sure that people pay for that sort of stuff. I learned that much in the brothel, there is nothing people won’t sexualise, although I never saw anything like this in my time there, not even close.

The dogs were sniffing and licking at her, when one nuzzled her butt she pushed it away and it barked and growled at her. Sarah started crying harder. Through her tears she tried to calm them, patting them and speaking in soft tones but they persisted in badgering her, constantly sniffing at her crotch, jumping up at her and occasionally snapping when they didn’t get their way. When she again pushed one away it bit her hand. Another growled in such a menacing way that the hairs on my neck stood up. Sarah was crying heavily now as the beasts clawed at her until they pushed her to the floor. Once on the ground, they wouldn’t let her get up. In an effort to try and protect her face and the front of her body she curled up on her hands and knees, inadvertently presenting her ass to them. One of the dogs quickly mounted her and Sarah screamed.

"I use these dogs because their cocks are huge and they’re quite aggressive. This scene will sell very well."

Sarah was screaming and crying as the baying hounds fought to fuck her while she cowered in fear. It was obvious I was being shown all this so I’d learn a lesson, be biddable and do what they ask and things would be easier for me. If the other option was being ripped apart by hounds for a snuff movie then I'll take the dog sex movie all day long thanks. That’s the other thing you learn in a brothel, things could always be worse. That, and survive at all costs.

I realised that I needed to make my position clear to this woman and distance myself from Sarah before she got us both killed.

"Please, may I ask what I call you?"

"Oh yes, how remiss of me, you may call me Mistress Agatha, or simply Mistress."

"Mistress, I'll do it, I'll make the movie for you, I’ll do it willingly, I’ll do anything you say."

"Good girl Victoria, that’s a wise choice. Now get on your knees."

She pulled her skirt up and told me to remove her panties. I was then made to lick her pussy while she watched the dogs raping Sarah. I considered myself lucky as I pleasured my new Mistress, this was far better than what Sarah was getting. And I’d eaten enough pussy in my time that this was all quite routine for me, well, sort of.

Mistress Agatha came in my mouth not long after I’d started on her. When she was done she patted my head and told me I’d done well. Good, I wanted her to value me, this was survival of the fittest. I liked Sarah but if she wanted to take the hard route then she was on her own, I wanted to live, and live as easily as the situation would allow me.

After a time, when Mistress seemed to tire of watching the dogs have their way with Sarah, a guard took me back to the bedroom. I was fed a basic but tasty meal of chicken and vegetables and given fashion magazines to read. That night they never brought Sarah back to the room, I worried terribly about what had happened to her but there was nothing I could do.

Despite the circumstances, I slept remarkably well. So far, for me at least, this was a lot better than the beatings and rape in that holding facility. Although admittedly I wasn’t looking forward to fucking dogs on camera.

In the morning the maid unlocked the door and actually gave me clothes! I’d lost count of how many days it had been since I last wore clothes. I was given a plain white bra and panties, black leggings, a white T-shirt and a pair of trainers. It was very plain attire but comfy and being washed and dressed made me feel almost human again.

I was served a breakfast of fruit and cereal in my room then taken to see Mistress Agatha in her study. The curtain to the one-way glass window was pulled back so I could see Sarah curled up in the corner of the cell on the floor, covered by a blanket and fast asleep. I tried hard not to cry, poor Sarah, I felt so bad for her.

“I did try again to see if she would cooperate but she refuses,” said Mistress.

“I see,” was all I could think to say.

“Victoria, I’d like you to decide what happens to Sarah today. More dogs maybe? A session of pain? Or shall we just kill her and be done with it?”

“What? Kill her? No, please, don’t do that, she’ll come around eventually, I know she will.”

“What’s it to be then?”

I felt like I was being tested, so I put myself in the Mistress's shoes, what would I do if I were her? I put my conscience to one side and told her what I thought she wanted to hear.

“If Sarah is not cooperating then she needs to learn. Why choose between dogs and pain, when you can have both?”

“Ha! And I thought I was a sadistic bitch, you’re a girl after my own heart.”

She pressed a buzzer and a maid came in.

“Tell Karl she’s to have dogs this morning and light torture this afternoon.”

Two men then went into the room with Sarah and bent her over a long, short-legged bench-type thing and tied her down, presenting her butt at a perfect height for a dog. They left the cell and let a huge Rottweiler in. It mounted her straight away and pumped furiously into her. Sarah screamed and cried as the beast had its way with her.  

Then Mistress said, “Now, onto business, come with me.”

As I followed her down a plush hallway lined with paintings I felt huge pangs of guilt at my part in what was happening to Sarah. So much so that I felt I had to try and intervene on Sarah’s behalf.

“Please Mistress, may I beg a favour of you?”

“Oh, what would that be?”

“Tonight, after you’re done with Sarah, please give her a little time to recover. Let her wash, eat and sleep in a bed, please?”

“Don’t worry, I know the limits of human endurance. I was going to have her cleaned up anyway but okay, as you’ve been behaving well so far I’ll clean her up properly and let her sleep in her room again. But I warn you, I grow tired of her stubborn behaviour.”

“Thank you, Mistress.”

We arrived at the end of the hallway where she opened the door to a bedroom that was beautifully decorated in a modern, minimalist style. It was white and silver with touches of red here and there to add a splash of colour. It was a huge room with a large walk-in dressing area and a massive en-suite bathroom. It was like something from a five-star hotel that I’d only ever seen in pictures before. Even the bedrooms in Sarah’s family’s home paled in comparison to this.

“This is your room. There is a full wardrobe of clothes, all your size of course. Everything you need is here. Pick up the phone and someone will bring whatever you need, food, alcohol or whatever, twenty-four hours a day. Like room service, only far better. You have free rein of the house. There are one or two rooms you can’t enter, but they are locked and clearly marked so you can’t miss them. You can also go outside and stroll around the grounds as you wish and enjoy the full splendour of the island. I’ve even made my stable of concubines available to you, there are men and women of all types if you wish to avail yourself of them. Oh, and the kennels are open to you as well if you fancy a hound or two. There is a pool, gym and sauna, we have a hairdresser and beautician here too. In short my dear, you have full guest rights.”

I giggled nervously, “I don’t understand, all this, for me?”

“Yes, for you. I have high hopes for you. But right now there is someone I want you to meet,” she clapped her hands and the door opened.

A gorgeous Golden Retriever came bounding in, he was absolutely divine. He came running straight to me and jumped up, tail wagging like mad.

“This is Max,” said Mistress.

“Hey, Max! How are you?”

“WOOF!”

“Ha! He likes you,” said Mistress, her smile making her look almost friendly.

“Oh he’s adorable, I love him to pieces already!”

I knelt down and played with him, he licked my face and we tussled about. Mistress watched us with a broad smile on her face.

“May I ask, am I to perform with Max for a film?”

“Yes, but we want to go a step further than the usual single scene or short films we’ve made before.”

I stood up and paid attention, “Oh?”

“We’re going to make a TV series with a very high production quality. The plot is that you’re a well-to-do young widow who thinks the spirit of her dead husband is in the dog. You fall in love with Max and treat him like your husband.”

“Okay, that’s quite cool, I wasn’t expecting that.”

“This is the best bit. To make it more real, there’s no set or crew. Instead, there are hidden cameras everywhere, in this room, the bathrooms, the whole house and all the grounds. You live with Max twenty-four-seven and just act naturally as if he were your husband and the cameras will pick up the required footage. I understand there will be a learning process for both of you. Max has not mounted a dog yet let alone a human, he’s only just turned two years old. But the training should be fun, just go with what feels right. Make sure there is lots of sex though, don’t make me have to keep reminding you to fuck him, remember, I’m watching.”

I could almost hear my mother’s voice in my head, ‘Give ‘em what they want, be the person they want you to be’. One way or another, a dog was going to fuck me, that was just a plain fact. So I might as well do this the way Mistress wants it done, it was the easier option. I quickly went back into whore mode, smiled and began to play the part required of me.

I stroked Max’s head and he licked my hand, “Don’t worry, this handsome chap will get all the pussy he wants, you’ll see,” I said, doing my best to get into character as enthusiastically as possible.

“Train him to fuck you as many different ways as you can. Do with him what you’d do with your husband. I’ve left some dog training books and treats on the side. Questions?”

“I don’t know anything about making films, but if he’s the spirit of my dead husband, will I be filming scenes with a man, you know, who is my pretend husband before he dies?”

“Good question, and had I known you’d be so presentable and willing I’d have filmed those scenes with you. But I already filmed them with another actress, we’ll just use some computer trickery to put your face on hers. Any more questions?”

“Erm, no not for the minute.”

“Good. If you need anything just pick up a house phone. Any ideas what you’ll do first?”

“I suppose we’d better see if everything is working properly with Max. I’ll play about and see if he gets frisky, if he does I’ll let him fuck me. Either way, we’ll go for a walk outside and play with a ball or something, you know, bonding type stuff.”

“Sounds like a good plan, I’ll leave you to it.”

And then I was alone with my new buddy, Max. Well, as alone as you can be with cameras everywhere. I wasn’t lying to Mistress when I said he was a beautiful dog, he had won my heart already.

I quickly discovered that Max was very clever. He was trained with all the usual commands and was obedient with a tender but excitable nature, his tail never stopped wagging. After a while he began sniffing at my crotch, I was very aware that Mistress would be watching me so I pulled my leggings and panties off and got on the bed. Max jumped up and went straight for the honey pot and lapped away at my pussy. I can’t lie, it felt great.

“Good boy Max, good boy,” I kept saying. “That’s it, lick mummy, good boy.”

Every so often I’d give him a treat in the hope I could train him to do this at the command of ‘lick pussy’. We played around with him licking my pussy for an hour or so but as fun as this was, the whole point was for the dog to fuck me, and the sooner I got it over with the better.

I didn’t know much about dogs and I’d certainly never fucked one before. But when I was growing up we had a small mongrel dog at the brothel. He wasn’t neutered and every now and then his cock would spring out and he’d hump a pillow or something. This was the full extent of my knowledge of dog sex. Looking down between Max’s legs his cock was not yet coming out of its home so I thought I’d give him a hand, literally. I gently jerked him off and soon a bright red and pink cock appeared. I was over the moon to see it was a nice size and shape, about 5 inches long, medium girth and honestly quite nice looking considering it was a dog’s cock. Now he was ready to go I got on all fours and waited with my butt presented to him in the hope that nature would take its course.

Max sniffed my ass and licked between my legs a lot, which was nice but not what we were aiming for. I slapped my butt and said ‘up’ but he didn’t seem to get it. Then he briefly put his paws on my back, so I told him ‘Good boy, fuck mummy’ and gave him a treat. Then I put a treat on my back and he put his paws back up there again. This carried on for quite a while until eventually, his instincts took over. I could feel his hips making a fucking motion back and forth and his cock sliding up my back or along my thighs but never finding the right spot. And I was getting quite wet from Max’s fluids. At first, I thought he’d come but it was watery and transparent, it was pre-come, which seemed to gently leak from him from the moment he got hard.

This went on for about an hour, he’d jump up, nudge his cock around my entrance then get off and have a sniff and a lick. I was about to give up when, BAM, Max found the spot and rammed home hard. And that was it, I had my first dog cock inside me.

It was so unexpected, so quick and so forceful that I yelled out from the shock as much as the pain. Max wasn’t stopping though, he carried on pounding me at a furious rate. He must have been coming inside me but given the hard and fast fucking I was getting I couldn’t really feel it, and besides that I was still trying to get over the shock of it all. When he slowed down I thought he was finished but Max was far from done with me.

He stayed where he was, draped over my back with his cock in my pussy when I started to feel something a bit odd. Something inside me was increasing in size, if it hadn’t felt so nice I may have panicked at this point. Then I remembered that dogs have a knot at the base of their penis, it’s designed to lock them in a bitch to ensure their semen fertilises the female. Now he’d stopped his manic pounding and was lying still on me I could catch my breath and start concentrating on what was happening. As Max’s knot increased in size it stretched the walls of my pussy wonderfully. It felt warm, hot almost, and throbbed, it was a very nice feeling indeed.

It was at this point that he began coming inside me properly. There was a constant stream of very warm fluid filling my insides as he gently fucked me into an orgasm. Yup, that’s right, Max gave me a screaming beauty of a climax the first time he fucked me. Nobody was more surprised about this than me.

His soft fur felt lovely on my back and he even had his paws tucked around my sides like he was hugging me as he gently pumped his seed inside me. Max wasn’t going anywhere, for the time being, he was locked in me. It wasn’t painful while he was knotted inside me, quite the opposite, I was enjoying it. It was lovely having his soft fur and the weight of him on my back with his warm cock pulsing and pumping cum deep inside me. Maybe fifteen minutes we stayed like that, with Max coming constantly, during which time I had another powerful orgasm.

I fell in love with Max while he was knotted inside me that day.

Pulling the knot out, even after he’d deflated a bit, was painful but mercifully quick. Besides the shock of his very painful entry and the knot when he pulled out, I have to say, dog sex, with Max at least, was not too bad. I’d even go so far as to say it was enjoyable. I’d had two very nice and very unexpected orgasms, so perhaps enjoyable is an understatement.

It was an odd turn of events, to say the least.