Rhoda's Pet

I woke with a jolt, as if someone had shaken me by the shoulders. The last thing I remember was the old lady's sneering face looking down at me, the image burned into my memory. I tried to stretch my arms, but they were trapped, locked tight behind my back. A gag was jammed into my mouth, the rubber pressing against my teeth. I was in total darkness, but the smell was immediate—sharp, pungent, and overwhelming. The stench of wet dog fur and stale urine hung thick in the air.

A hazy light spilled in from the front of the van, illuminating a small patch of floor. I heard a strange sniffing sound beside me, followed by heavy panting and a quiet whine. I wasn't alone. There was a dog in the cage next to me. Suddenly, I was shaken from side to side, my body tumbling against the bars, until an invisible force shoved me violently into the right wall of the crate.

My mind was slowly clearing. I was in a dog cage, traveling in a van, accompanied by a beast. Rhoda's aunt came to mind—the red-haired woman with the kennels. Yesterday, I got married; then I was whisked off to take part in a weird ritual. What had the old lady called it? 'The Sharing.' Was the aunt the next stop in this twisted ritual?

The ride was smooth for a while, the suspension absorbing the bumps, until we hit a sharp corner and the van jolted violently. By the time we stopped again, my knees and shoulders were screaming, my body having been thrown around like a rag doll inside the crate. The metal bars dug into my bruised skin.

The driver’s door opened, followed by the heavy thud of footsteps beside the van. The back doors were thrown open, and a harsh, white light flooded the darkness of the cage, blinding me for a second. It was partially blocked by a woman's silhouette.

It was Rhoda’s aunt Sophia. The red hair and sharp eyes,  the woman from the kennels. She undid the latch on the cage next to mine. The occupant was a black-and-white Border Collie, a beautiful, intelligent-looking dog. She made a huge fuss of it, scratching behind its ears, attaching a leash to its collar. She knelt down, letting the dog jump up so she could scratch its hips and give it attention.

"C'mon, Prince," Sophia said, her voice soft and affectionate. "Let's get you settled."

I was left waiting in the van, the smell of the dog's breath and the damp fur filling the small space. I wasn't sure what was going to happen next, but I assumed one of them would come back for me. I took time to examine the cages. I saw that the back of the van was split into four cages. Side doors opened to access the back cages, and two back doors opened to access two more. One of which. I was in. Each cage had an inner door so that the dogs couldn’t bolt as soon as the van doors were opened. 

I tried to position myself on the floor, shifting my weight until I was sitting with my legs stretched out in front of me and my back against the cage wall. I needed to be in a spot where I could scoot out easily, especially if they didn't free my hands, which I was now convinced they wouldn't. I was just a thing to be moved.

I heard footsteps approaching. It was Sophia returning. She held a leash and a riding crop. She unlocked the cage.

"Out."

I scooted out until my legs were over the side of the van, then slipped onto my feet. I stood straight, and she looked me in the eye as she attached the rope leash to the collar around my neck. She didn't say anything. She stepped beside me, slammed the van door shut, turned with the leash in her hand, and pulled me behind her. I nearly tripped at the sudden movement, but managed to stay upright. She took me around the side of the building, past a block of modern-looking kennels, most of which had four-legged guests. She dragged me up a muddy footpath that ran behind the kennels, through some trees, to a separate block of old wooden kennels. They looked like stables, but smaller. There was one larger building at the end of the kennels.

She opened the rusty metal door to a kennel and pushed me inside. "Kneel down."

I did as I was told. She walked in, stepped behind me, and released me from the cuffs. But I didn't have time to react. She grabbed one arm and pulled it out to the side. A rusty metal manacle snapped around my wrist. She did the same to the other arm. Each cuff was attached to a chain, leaving me kneeling with my arms stretched out. She hadn't finished. She removed the rope leash and told me to bend forward. I bent as far as the chains would allow. Her hand moved through the debris on the dirty floor and found another rusty chain. There was a hasp on the end, which she attached to the collar. I tried to pull back, but there was no give. I was stuck, my arms extended at angles toward the walls of the kennel, my body bent forward.

Sophia walked out of the kennel. She started to move around outside. I heard a metallic squeal, followed by pipes shuddering and the sound of running water. She came back into the kennel holding a hose. She pointed at me, and I squealed into the gag as cold water hit me with surprising force from the ancient hose.

The water spray cut off abruptly, leaving me gasping and shivering in the cool, damp air. She tossed the hose aside onto the dirty floor. Sophia leaned back against the rough frame of the kennel door, her silhouette framed by the gray light. She pulled a cigarette from a crumpled pack and brought it to her lips, inhaling deeply before exhaling a gray cloud of smoke directly into my face.

"I have a duty to my family to participate in the Sharing," she said, her voice raspy. "But that doesn't mean I have to like it. If it were up to me, you and yours would be in a big hole somewhere." She flicked ash from the cigarette, the ember glowing red for a split second before falling away. She took another drag, smoke curling around her face. "There are two of us here who have to participate, my daughter and I. She has her own ideas about how she's going to deal with you."

She blew another cloud of smoke toward my gagged face. "But that's for tomorrow. I have you till midnight, which is..." She paused, glancing down at her wrist. "Thirteen hours and fifteen minutes."

She took one last long drag, the cherry burning bright. Then, she stepped closer, her hand reaching down to grab mine. She didn't ask; she just smashed the burning cigarette butt into my open palm. I grunted into the gag, the pain searing through the damp flesh, blinding and hot. Luckily, she did it quickly, the burn not quite setting the skin on fire, but it was agony. Then, as if that wasn't enough, she raised the riding crop.

I yelped again as the leather tip slashed across my shoulder. The pain was excruciating, amplified tenfold because my skin was still wet and ice-cold from the water hose. It felt like a red-hot brand searing my flesh. ‘Crack’ Three more hits landed in quick succession, each harder than the last, stinging and throbbing, leaving welts.

She shifted her aim to the other shoulder, raining down five sharp, stinging blows. The crop's crack split the air, echoing through the kennel. She threw the crop down with a dull thud and stepped closer. Her dirty green rubber riding boots filled my vision, heavy and menacing.

She grabbed a fistful of my hair, yanking my head back until I was forced to meet her gaze. I cried out into the gag, my body jerking as her boot suddenly forced its way between my spread knees. The impact was mostly absorbed by my thighs, but the sharp toe struck my balls squarely. A jolt of pure agony shot through me. Her eyes blazed with fierce, animalistic fury.

She patted my cheek, a mocking gesture, then delivered a sharp slap with her palm. I flinched, and she struck again, this time with the back of her hand, the sound loud and stinging. By the time she stopped, tears were streaming freely down my face. Worse than the pain, the humiliation was total when my bladder finally gave way. I felt the warm liquid gush out, pooling against the straw-covered dirt beneath me.

She stepped back into the shadows, leaving me alone for a moment. I stood there, shivering in the cold and in agonizing pain, but the overwhelming feeling was one of utter humiliation.

She returned, now wearing latex gloves, a small bundle of items in her other hand. A rough cloth was tied around my eyes, plunging me into darkness. Then her gloved hand moved across my face, rough and abrasive. She had scooped up the mud I had made with my own urine, mixing it into a sticky paste. She smeared that filth across my face, working it into my skin, paying special attention to rubbing it under my nose. To finish, she placed something rough and coarse over my head and pulled the drawstrings tight around my neck.

I couldn't see a thing, but I could imagine the pathetic sight I must have presented—a ruined mess covered in filth and shame.

I jumped against the chains as the heavy metal door clanged shut with a sound that vibrated through my bones, sealing me in total darkness. Then came the clang of an upper storm flap being thrown down, muffling the world and leaving me in a damp, concrete tomb.

The air trapped under the rough sack over my head grew stifling and heavy, thick with the smell of mud and my waste. Outside, nature continued its course—the birds sang their morning songs, and the barking of dogs carried on. Long seconds bled into long minutes, which melted into hours. I knelt there, my body aching. I could feel insects crawling over my legs and back, their tiny legs tickling and irritating my raw skin.

My thoughts drifted desperately to happier days. I remembered the life I used to have, the freedom. Even Rhoda appeared in my mind, her memory soft and sweet against the kennel's grit. I heard footsteps approach the kennel a couple of times, but the door stayed shut. Then the sounds of children running echoed through the dark, chased by the angry shout of an adult telling them to "fuck off." The children laughed and fled, their joy a sharp contrast to my misery.

Suddenly, the metal door swung open. The sack was lifted halfway up my face, just enough to expose my mouth. The gag was unclipped, and my nose was pinched, forcing my mouth open. A large spoonful of cold, lumpy gruel was forced into my mouth.

I tried to spit it out, convinced it was nothing but dog food. A sharp punch to my stomach cut off my breath, making me gasp. I had no choice. I ate everything they fed me, the texture gritty and unappetizing. Then came a gulp of water to wash it down, followed by a small pill shoved roughly against my throat. More water followed to swallow it. Finally, the gag was clipped back into place, and the sack was lowered back over my head, plunging me back into the dark.

About fifteen minutes later, the misery was still there, but something else was bubbling up from the depths of my gut. My mind filled with erotic images, and my cock grew and twitched against my thigh, betraying my despair. It made no sense—why now? Then I remembered the pill they had forced down my throat. It was working, flooding my system with hormones I couldn't control.

The heavy metal door clanged open again. The sack was ripped violently from my head. Before I could react, a stream of freezing water hit me, mostly from above. I gasped, sputtering, as the water ran down my nose and into my mouth, shocking my system. Somehow, against all logic, my cock stayed rock hard, throbbing with a life of its own.

The water stopped. The chain that had anchored me to the wall was released. I almost fell backward, but the chains attached to my wrists pulled me forward, leaving me dangling in a painful, twisted arch. Then the wrist chains were released. I collapsed into a heap on the floor, bruised and battered.

I wasn't allowed a moment's reprieve. A heavy boot kicked me in the ribs, knocking the breath out of me. "Get up." I groaned, struggling to climb to my feet. My legs were like jelly, but the leash snapped back onto my collar, and I was dragged out of the kennel. It was just a short walk, the rough leash pulling me along as the mud squelched under my bare feet.

We reached a door and paused. I heard the door open, and then I was pulled into another building. I was shoved down onto a wooden bench.

 "Lie down." 

I complied, my body too weak to resist. My arms and legs were pulled taut and tied painfully around the bench legs, forcing me into a weird spread-eagled position with my arms and legs bent down over the bench,  my muscles strained against the ropes. The makeshift blindfold was ripped off my face.

Sophia was standing over me, her face twisted in anger. "You better not take too long," she said through gritted teeth.

I heard the shuffle of her feet and the careless thud as she discarded clothes on the floor. Then she was standing over me again. She had stripped off her dirty jeans and panties, leaving herself naked and exposed in the dim light. In her hand, she held a glass vial.

Without a word, without any foreplay or any indication that this was going to be enjoyable for either of us, she lowered herself onto my rock-hard cock. She gripped my chest for leverage and began to ride me. She looked me in the eye the whole time, her expression flat, cold, and devoid of any affection. Her pussy lips were clenching and releasing around me, a tight, rhythmic grip that felt undeniably good to me, but she showed no sign of emotion other than pure hatred.

I groaned into the gag, my eyes closing as the pressure built and the pleasure spiked, but Rhoda's words were burned into my mind: "You must always ask permission." I fought to keep my eyes open, resisting the urge to surrender to the sensation.

Thankfully, it wasn't long before I was given an order. "Come," she said sharply.

I obeyed instantly, exploding inside her. She milked me with her muscles, keeping me hard and milking every drop, refusing to let me soften until she was finished. She climbed off me, the sudden cool air hitting my skin. She took the cork out of the vial and held it under her pussy, letting my come drip from her into the glass. She corked the vial and set it aside, then returned to me.

She reached down and punched me hard in the stomach. The wind was knocked out of me.

"Welcome to the family," she spat.

She quickly got dressed, buttoning her jeans and pulling up her panties. She turned off the light and left the room, the door clicking shut behind her. I was left alone in the darkness, still strapped uncomfortably to the wooden bench, trapped in silence.