A Tale Of Two Families

Chapter 20

He took a sip from his glass, wondering as he did so how he felt about the little tableaux playing out before them. It was, in one sense, highly arousing in a very perverse way but also quite revolting.  Any normal self-respecting person would be thoroughly disgusted and perhaps rightly so; he thought as he glanced sideways at his wife. 

Normal was probably an inappropriate term anyway in her case, his as well if he was honest about it! Patricia was not the least bit revolted at the bestial spectacle, far from it. Why should she be since was the one who’d organised it?  He could tell by that look of cruel rapt attention in her eyes; by the way, she caught her breath every so often. The prominence of her large nipples against the clinging white sleeveless top she wore also caught his eye.  Twin peaks capping larger hills under that too-tight thin garment. The queen bitch was in heat, aroused and that didn’t bode well for her latest bitch wriggling futilely against the bonds that secured her upon the bench in front of them. A long night was still head of her, but perhaps she would find that demeaning future considerably better than what she was at present suffering.

He considered for a moment and came to the conclusion that his wife had arranged tonight’s little tableaux with just that purpose in mind. No doubt Aunties’ future oral performances between his wife’s legs would be a lot more enthusiastic after her first experience upon the ‘bitching bench’!   He glanced at their noisy writhing victim then turned to his wife.

“She's taking it quite well considering it's her first time; maybe she even likes the feel of a real live throbbing hot  cock inside her for a change instead of one of your nasty little lifeless plastic toys?"

"Ummm, perhaps" Patricia grunted doubtfully in response to her husband's observation. "I don't think the bitch was ever very fond of cock anyway; I get the district impression both hubbies had their jollies strictly rationed by little Ms Puritan over there. I bet I've dicked madam more times already then they did even combined! Here, pour me another, please. Anyway, what do you mean, lifeless? They are not little, nor are they lifeless when I am the one using them!"

He grinned at her mock displeasure, took the proffered glass and refilled it from the champagne bottle chilling in an ice bucket on the nearby table wincing a little as one particularly outraged shriek hit a new high on the decibel level. Only to be expected though he thought as he passed the glass of sparkling bubbles back to his wife. Given every perverse thing that had happened to that attractive mature but rather prim little woman since his wife acquired her, tonight's entertainment probably topped everything she'd experienced to date!  Topped perhaps the wrong end of the scale, maybe touched absolute rock bottom zero might be more apt! 

He had to concede that his wife was ruthlessly efficient when breaking and training the unlucky women to fall into first her clutches and shortly afterwards her bed. Auntie had meekly followed her owner over to the kennels without question when Patrica had summoned her, snapped her fingers and ordered her latest acquisition to accompany them.

Personally, he preferred his meat a lot younger, but he had to admit that his wife had a good eye when it came to the older bitches she always favoured. The present one, mid-forties, petite but trim and sharply, nice legs and a small but decent pair of tits still surprisingly firm and perky despite her age. 

He remembered that she was the aunt of the sissy bitch kneeling between his legs, licking lightly upon his sizeable semi-erect cock.  He reached out to stroke the bobbing silky blonde hair letting his fingers ruffle through its perfumed softness. Girlie was coming on, wasn't she? A real pretty little sissy bitch boi, maybe she would be better still with a nice pair of perky breasts like her aunt? Food for thought, just little ones, firm and super sensitive so that she'd squeal for him at the merest squeeze. He felt himself rising swiftly to the occasion, and his well-trained bitch dutiful stopped lapping at his shaft and accommodated him in her warm moist mouth. 

He absently twisted the handful of blonde hair in his hand making her squeak." slowly bitch, slowly, you know by now how daddy likes it." then turned his attention back to the floor show.

Auntie was all dressed or undressed in white depending on which way you looked at it. A little earlier, she had been entirely naked, set to work on her hands and knees scrubbing the carpet in their vast lounge with a bucket of cold water and a small toothbrush. The bitches of the house tended to hand out such meaningless demeaning little chores quite frequently he noted. Meaningless, perhaps not. It kept them fully occupied when not needed on other domestic or personal duties, didn't it?

Patricia had seated herself in a comfortable chair with a mug of coffee and a glossy fashion magazine to oversee her naked slaves efforts. Conveniently near to hand hooked over the chair's padded arm was the cane she had stripped the little woman's bottom with earlier in the day. The allotted task might be pointless, but it did have a meaning. Fail to perform satisfactorily, fail to put in the required effort, fail in any way real or imaginary, then that cane would quickly be used to correct such impudent laziness!

Auntie had earnestly scrubbed away as though her life depended on it which, in some ways, of course, it did. She cast the occasional fearful glance toward the handsome coldhearted woman seated nearby comfortably at her ease with that awful bamboo cane so convenient. That hellish bitch who'd once threatened to tie her to a post and use a steel cored whip to strip the flesh from her bones inch by inch till there was not a shred of meat left! A terrifying woman who could and would undoubtedly do that if ever provoked enough! 

He'd been outside half-heartedly practising his putts on the lawn when he remembered that Patricia had said something about evening entertainment for auntie earlier in the day. Her attitude to her latest acquisition had displayed a touch of irritation in the past week he’d noted. A little extra fun for her might prove a suitable stimulant!  Although knowing Patricia, he suspected the little women would find it anything but fun!

His impression confirmed later that evening when the four of them strolled over to the kennel block after dinner. Patricia told him Girlie could clean up afterwards, which meant she must be eager to get on with whatever devilry she had planned. The fact that his sissy bitch could accompany him meant that his cock would equally appreciated the entertainment he surmised.

The two slave slaves we're almost a matching pair, Girlie was only a little taller, skinnier, lacking his aunts mature sensual curves, but sharing the same genes you could see the family connection up close. Aunt and nephew were both blue-eyed and blonde. Alice had a thing about hair, and she'd taken it upon herself to groom the pair, dyeing and styling Girlies till it matched his aunts.

Her new' doll' was a natural blonde with an excellent ‘thatch’ on her head given her age Patrica had noted although way too short and primly sensible.  She had told Alice not to cut it. I like long manes on my bitches. I think this one will look so cute with it down to her bum; she'd laughed. Do what you can for now though Alice, the same family, let us have a touch of' lookee likee' between the bitches.

He'd noted the horrified look on poor little aunties face at that. How long would it take to grow to that length, he wondered. A long time and how much of that would she have to spend with her tongue buried in his wife's cunt. No wonder the woman looked so appalled but did she imagine that this nightmare would end suddenly. Silly bitch. There would be no escape from satisfying his sadistic oversexed wife's lust, ever. Not unless she got bored with her and gave or sold her to one of her nasty friends. He shivered, not necessarily a guaranteed lifestyle improvement knowing the peculiarities some of them enjoyed!

Patricia had earlier raided their respective wardrobes, and once dinner terminated summoned them into the lounge and with a snap of her fingers pointed to the two little piles of scanty clothing, she'd tossed on the floor.

"Strip and dress yourselves quickly, sluts!" 

She had then seemingly dismissed them from her mind,  seated herself in a chair picked up the remote and turned the television on apparently watching a news channel. Perhaps she was, but her husband knew that she'd have at least half an eye on the two unfortunates she owned body and soul. Just as he knew neither of them would dare for one moment to disobey her direct command nor take overlong in obeying it.

Patricia, he'd often noted,  seemed to have no fear of those she dominated so ruthlessly. His wife had that aloof almost regal aristocratic presence inherent in authoritative, commanding people. Even outside her little empire, no one crossed her, she was never wrong, never apologised, tolerated no fools and never accepted second best. He'd seen her reduce supermarket and restaurant staff to apologetic jelly with one withering glance. Give her a whip and no wonder the likes of those two leapt to obey. The pair of them had experienced her whip, her commanding presence, her pitiless contempt and Auntie had spent time in that basement version of hell she'd created learning the true meaning of obedience!

Aunties sister he recalled had been one of the very few who'd dared to raise a hand against her the foolish woman. That had been relatively early on, and the silly woman had never done it again. Understandable, humiliated beyond measure, frightened for herself and family, whipped, abused, degraded and forced to perform abhorrent sex acts for the sensual satisfaction of the women who tortured her. Mumsie as Patrica had named her had snapped and lashed out forgetting about the shock collar around her neck.

He often wondered what Patricia did to them down there for unlike the two daughters he had never received an invite to watch or participate. He'd seen them dragged down struggling, shouting in outrage and seen them obediently crawl back up without a murmur. True they still had the same number of arms, legs and everything else so it couldn't have equalled the Spanish Inquisition's worst horrors. They didn't emerge broken in body but in spirit, a very different story! Their bodies were not destroyed via rack, sharp hooks or crushing iron boot but their skins certainly bore testimony to the prolonged application of whip and cane, applied with merciless skill no doubt!

That little bit of foolishness had earned the woman three days in the basement, and when she emerged, she was crawling to her owners' heel on the end of a leash her body an ugly mass of rainbow-hued cuts and bruises yet with her functionality unimpaired. Patricia demonstrated that immediately by leading her into the lounge, snapped her fingers and said' stay!'

They'd all been there, him, Girlie, Eva and Alice but that didn't bother Patricia one bit. She casually tossed the end of the leash, and a crook handled bamboo cane over a chair arm, kicked off her boots, yanked down the zip on her jeans and divested herself of them followed by her panties. Seating herself comfortably, she opened her legs wide, picked up the cane and snapped her fingers once more.

"Begin slut” she ordered with a slender finger pointing to the desired area.

Mumsie had reacted instantly and buried her face in her owners' crotch. Neither she nor the imperious woman her tongue was slavishly worshipping gave the slightest hint that they were not alone in the room. It was at once an act of blatant wanton exhibitionism and abject unquestioning servile obedience. A rebellion crushed and the victor wanted all at court to know that her tyrannical reign remained unchallenged.

Patricia hadn't even bothered to look at the broken woman but reclined with her eyes closed, enjoying her latest bitches oral devotion confident in her complete mastery.  The mere presence of that bamboo cane dangling so casually from her hand was all the additional authority required. She was the queen on her throne receiving the dutiful worship of a humble serf and that simple slender length of wood her sceptre and symbol of omnipotence.

Her ignored audience had watched spellbound. None of them said anything, and it was Eva who broke the moment by suddenly slapping Girlie hard on both cheeks. Alice and Eva had both been working on her. One with brush and hair spray the other with an assortment of makeup. Eva had decided that the little sissy should put its face and eyes back where she wanted and not on that slut of a mother. There would be plenty of other opportunities to see mummy busy licking pussy in the future.

That was true, he thought. How often had the little sissy shared the same bed avidly sucking cock while right next to him its equally enslaved mother licked clitty. Now it's aunties tongue did likewise on his wife with the same unwilling but fearful endeavour. 

It had been amusing to watch the pair of them dress. They were both embarrassed; they always were. It was kind of cute, he thought. Aunt and nephew going all coy again or trying to despite their situation. Sheesh, you'd think they were on a crowded beach or something not in this house of extreme perversion. Had they both forgotten that only last night they'd lain on their backs in the big marital bed virtually shoulder to shoulder, both clad in sexy lingerie. Legs spread wide, him fucking his sissy bitch boi while his wife energetic pinned auntie to the mattress courtesy of her strap-on. Such short memories that pair or maybe just an ability to blot out the unthinkable! 

He suddenly stiffened tensing his muscles and abruptly turned his thoughts back to the present as his rampant cock began to spasm as it passed the point of no return. No use, ridged as he'd forced his body to become his twitching cock was too near the winning post to be reined in now. He put a cautionary hand on Girlies head, an automatic but unnecessary action, his bitch had long since been trained to accept every drop of her master's sperm. To swallow and then to lick. To smack her pretty pink painted lips in appreciation once every drop had been gently tongued from the demanding organ that so dominated her life.

"Good timing," his wife remarked with a nod towards the captive women on the bench writhing frantically beneath the bestial rape being perpetrated by the colossal dog energetically mounting her. Judging from the mixed noises emanating from her, she too was in the latter stage of a powerful and noisy orgasm. Her loud cries were a mixture of outraged pleasure and humiliated disbelieving anger, the latter in part aimed at her own treacherous body as well as the watching woman who had condemned her to the hideous ordeal.

"I can see why you never let your animals speak as such" he observed as the verbal tirade collapsed into a spate of racking woeful sobs. "That's an awful lot of foul language coming from such a refined little madam!"

"Mmmm" his wife agreed. "Her slum vocabulary is more extensive than I would have thought. Some of it perhaps even accurate. Claire and I were never sure about the precise matrimonial state of our parents" her voice changed. "But I do rather object to her lack of respect in applying that offensive term so blatantly to me!"

He chuckled. "What about 'evil'?" He asked absently tapping Girlie on the head again. Mr Cocky downstairs was stirring, eager for seconds perhaps so that a little active encouragement wouldn't go amiss. "That word seemed to precede the other term quite a bit I noted." 

"Yes, it would seem that my prim and proper little dolly needs a few more lessons in respect; it still lacks the appropriate degree of verbal self-control!"

"Shocking!" he laughed, then tapped the blonde bobbing head between his legs with a finger. "Faster, a little faster now," he instructed before turning his attention back to the wretched defiled women secured in front of them. "The virgin bride!" He observed. "Not so virginal now is she and that hound certainly ruined her white wedding night trousseaux you dressed her in!" he chuckled.

The latter remark was very true. He had watched the blushing twosome garb themselves earlier under the critical eye of their Mistress. White stockings (seams strictly aligned north/south), frilly garter belt and delicate ruffed wrist gloves coupled with gleaming six-inch white patent stilettos. The final touch had been an eye mask for auntie and bridal veil for each of them. 

The reluctant Bride and her Maid of honour! Interestingly he'd noted that Girlie had been by far the more proficient and graceful of the two on her heels as they'd crossed the rough ground from house to kennels. Well, auntie, had been on a leash and blindfolded plus she had a few months catching up to do hadn't she but apart from the mud-splattered shoes, Sultans eager canine lust had meant that his blunt claws and coarse, hairy bulk had soon shredded the rest of her meagre flimsy outfit. 

He squirmed contentedly in his seat as those well-practised dutiful lips and tongue worked their customary delightful magic. He glanced over again at the sobbing woman as yet another eruptive climax drew closer then abruptly changed his mind.   “No, not yet pet” he ordered reaching down to rap his knuckles sharply on the bobbing blonde head. “later my little beauty, later,  I think once you’ve finished washing up and tidied the dining room you can pretty yourself up and then do a little dancing on daddy’s pole, eh?”

"Hardly a virgin dear. You forget that Auntie has had two husbands don't forget and lately the more regular privilege of riding my favourite toys both front and rear. Although I did have the delightful honour of being first to enter via the back door!"

Patricia raised her glass and sipped while thoughtfully contemplating the distraught sobbing little women. The vast hairy bulk of Sultan still dominated, but his excited yaps had died away he was panting softly, relaxed, sated and no longer gripping the woman tightly with his front paws. Patricia knew from experience that it would be some minutes before the massive knot at the base of his impressive doggie cock subsided, allowing him to withdraw. No doubt he'd also left a copious amount of his revolting slime in the sluts tight snatch. Not something she wanted seeping out and soiling the bed later. Her head turned, and the point of her left boot poked Girlie in the ribs.

"Don't let that busy tongue get too tired my pretty sissy. I have a little cleaning chore lined up when it's finished pleasing your Master!"

*****

He was sweating like the proverbial pig now, and that damn stack of blocks hardly seemed diminished despite the numerous trips back and forth he had already made. Two big masonry blocks at a time and they were heavy, one would have been bad enough, but two of the fucking things was so unfair!

He was supposed to be getting fit, getting his strength back for christ's sake. That’s what she’d told him. Getting his health back yet the sadistic bitch was working him as though she had the very opposite intention in mind. That of working him to death!

It was one of those over hot humid still afternoons with hardly a breath of wind. Occasionally there was an all too brief teasingly light flutter of a breeze but gone before there was time to appreciate it. A quick refreshing waft of cool air upon his naked body then the sun would mercilessly beat down upon him once more as he struggled across the uneven ground with his heavy load.

The sun though was the least of his worries. It was utterly impartial, unlike the person who would deliver a merciless beating if he failed to complete the task she had set him! Hell, even in the unlikely event of him accomplishing it in time the bitch might still use a whip on him merely to amuse her self!

He glanced over at the nearest camera with its impartial glass eye and blinking red light recording his every movement. Its twin was doing the same a hundred yards or so away by the stack of blocks. There was no way he could hide from them, no escape. Even if he could somehow evade their impartial gaze, there was still the tracker built into the thick collar locked around his neck. Nor was that the only piece of electronics built into the wretched device. 

Alice, no Miss Alice as he had to call her respectfully, had given him a practical demonstration of how that awful device worked, the bitch. God, he hated her, but he feared her even more. The humiliation of it to live in mortal fear of a slip of a girl less than half his age. Mind you, come to that he feared every one of the bitches didn't he. They were all sadistic and thoroughly evil! 

That too smart by half damned collar was his overseer, jailer and executioner all rolled into one. If he strayed outside the work area programmed into it, he received a nasty shock. Alice had demonstrated that feature,  several times of course! God that evil bitch was so unemotional and ice cold the way she went about things! If he decided to be super silly and tried to ignore the jolts and just run the power and frequency would quickly intensify. He could not escape, at best he would be rendered unconscious, at worst. Alice had smiled coldly at that point. The worst, she assured him might be preferable to being zapped unconsciousness then waking later to face the consequences of his silly action at her hands. That latter part she'd said so girlishly sweetly, yet he'd shivered with cold fear at the callous look in her eyes. Callous yet cruelly eager!

The overseer function on the wretched thing wouldn't even let him rest or take a breather either. He didn't need to have Alice standing over him, whip in hand to keep him working. That device she'd locked around his neck relieved her of that tedious chore. Even relieved her of the duty of providing the necessary corrective encouragement although he doubted that the sadistic young woman would have regarded that as a chore!

The bitch had amused herself earlier by marching him out here literally like some demented little Sergeant Major, calling out left, right, left and to swing his arms high, higher!  Crazy bitch but he had done as ordered, that short whip she inevitably carried had provided the usual encouragement. At least he was out of that damned nightmare nursery. No more pink princess, no more mitts and bootees, no more diapers and baby dresses, and best of all, finally food real food not liquidised muck and sickly sweet milk! Even if it was pretty foul at least, he could get his teeth into something substantial at last. 

No more sapping drugs either for his strength was coming back likewise bowel control, although that remained somewhat erratic. He was afraid that the bastards might have permanently fucked him up so far as that bodily function went. Technically he was a free man now or at least free of the cuffs and chains Alice had initially bound him in after she'd released him from that hated pink-hued hellish nightmare.

While grateful for the sudden change, he wasn't entirely sure that life was going to get all that better. He'd swapped the hideous oversized nightmare baby wardrobe for total nudity. His days of cot and playpen mind-numbing idleness were at an end. No more pampered indolence and long hours to sleep to dream away this living nightmare. 

Now it was the complete reverse of all that had happened previously. Young Eva had disappeared from his life completely, his sweet but so perverted young mummy had taken some pony to a stable or something he had overheard. Now no longer a bizarre pampered pet, the living toy of a teenage sadist! He was now a working slave, a naked beast of burden to labour long hours under Alice's direction and merciless whip, seemingly his new mistress and overseer. He'd feared her beforehand feared her even more now.

They’d given him what, a fortnight maybe to start to acclimatise to his new role. Two weeks of doing nothing but eat and sleep and endure yet more boredom. Not that being bored was such a bad thing when the alternatives would invariably be highly unpleasant. He’d been fed twice a day and had several brief cold showers under the watchful eye of his new Mistress and felt her whip for the privilege of course!

Promotion or demotion he didn't know which but did it even matter? The tyranny and terror of Young Eva and her painful aides,  Miss Biter and Mrs Beater had now been replaced by that of her older sister.  Maybe Mrs Beater hadn't been all that bad. A paddle wielded by the petite Eva was less formidable than a painful flogging via a whip in her stronger sister's more practised hands. 

He reached the stack of blocks that he had already transported across the field. A pitifully small stack compared to the pile he was assigned to move. He was feeling exhausted, knackered, shagged out and yet he would somehow have to carry on. Alice had set the task to 'strengthen him' as she put it, and she was a hard and unforgiving taskmistress. He knew that no excuse would be accepted. Even if he dropped down dead, she'd probably still flog his damn corpse for blind disobedience, wouldn't she?

The bitch had even told him she was kind to him because she knew it would take time to get his strength back to normal, hence the light exercise regime. Light, some bloody joke he thought bending to take in some deep breaths as he eyed the hatred blocks with distaste. He'd had to stand stiffly to attention, head up, back straight, arms at his sides, feet together for the girl while she delivered her little homily on leniency. 

He'd swapped his pink baby cot cage for a black iron one. They kept him locked up like an animal in a zoo, but at least it was bigger than that damn cot. He could stand upright, move about and no fucking squeaky plastic-covered mattress under him. Actually, he sort of missed that mattress. It might have been noisy to move about on, but it had been comfortable. Now, what did he have, dirt, sawdust and a pile of dank mouldy flattened straw in an over-sized iron cage? 

A cage complete with a rusty old bucket to piss and shit in and another galvanised bucket half full of water to drink. Of course, no cup plus the blasted thing was fixed to the side of the cage forcing him to cup his hands or stick his head in just like an animal. If he was lucky, the bucket got turned on its simple fixing, drained and refilled with fresh. Otherwise, they merely topped it up, leaving him to compete with dust, debris and dead flies!

Talking of animals, his cage was located in one corner of the big stable building. That place terrified him way more than anything else. It was almost beyond imagination what they did in there, how those other poor devils were treated or mistreated rather. How could any rational human being behave to people like that? Then again were any of the tormenting crazies here in the least bit rational? The place was vile. It was also way too warm and stank to high heaven!

His daughter was incarcerated down at the far end there. God, that bitch was trying to turn her into an animal as well and not only that! He could never come to terms with it, what they'd done to her, were doing to her. So callous, so cruel so utterly inhuman. He was so ashamed of himself—his failure his cowardice, weakness and above all, his fear of that fiend Alice.

There was nothing he could do though not a damned thing, not while that damn collar remained fastened around his neck. Alice, any of them for that matter could knock him to the floor in screaming writhing helpless agony with the merest touch of their little finger on a button. He knew for he'd found that out to his cost the moment he felt sufficiently strong enough to rebel, lashing out at his oppressor in a mindless rage of pent up fury.  He found to his cost that this new freedom was anything but liberty!

Every morning the same routine. Slop out time as Miss Alice called it. Standing to attention in his cage the moment she entered the stable and it might be ten or even twenty minutes or more before she bothered with him. In her eyes, he was evidently far less worthy than the captive 'animals' housed there. Eventually, she would get around to him and unlock the low door to his iron-barred prison. Even that was typical of the contemptuous way they treated him. He would have to scramble through the small opening on his hands and knees past her boots like he was paying homage to her. 

The same impression of had struck her for on the third morning he was only partway through the aperture when she raised one foot and shoved the door hard against him trapping him half in and out. He’d called out in surprise, and ominously she shook the coils out of the short whip she carried letting the knotted tip dangle just in front of his face.

"Not so fast dirtbag. I think maybe a little respect to Miss Alice wouldn't go amiss as we start our day from now on.  Let us get our working relationship on the right footing, or perhaps booting might be more apt, eh? A reaffirmation of our respective places in the pecking order perhaps?  I could, of course, use this whip as a reminder. Indeed I am sure I shall have cause to before the day is out, however?" she paused to consider then looked down in mock surprise. "Yuk, the toes of my expensive boots have got so dirty walking over here so why don't you show them a little respect  with your tongue, boy!"

Boy! Shit, this was unbelievable. He was a full-grown man in his middle forties, a proud man, a successful man, or had been and yet, and yet here he was on his hands and knees grovelling before a slip of a girl barely out of her teens.  Grovelling with the pointed toe of a small muck splattered black leather knee boot proffered in front of his face. Expensive? Maybe but now well worn and covered with damp stable filth! 

His nose had shied away from the smell, that wasn't just dirt alone on her boot, but then something dropped alongside it, a reminder. That short whip was no longer coiled, and its tip lay on the ground in front of him. He'd closed his eyes and bent forward to perform the humiliating task as ordered by the nubile little tyrant who now ruled his life with that short length of woven leather!

Boy, that was his new name, boy! Well, better than baby and at least they had given him his gender back but alas not his pride. Every morning now, he crawled out of his cage, starting his miserable day by kissing and slavishly lathering her filthy boots with his tongue while she looked imperiously down from on high. Depending on her mood, his obeisance might be a mere matter of a few seconds or as long as several minutes, nor was he spared her wrath if she deemed his efforts lacking sufficient enthusiasm. The bitch was never without some horrible implement of pain readily to hand.

An implement never spared if he erred in the slightest from the set ritual of his morning humiliation. Greeting over he was permitted to stand, stoop and retrieve the galvanised night bucket from its place adjacent to the cage door.  As a matter of pride, he'd initially tried to avoid using the thing, but then he'd reconsidered. At least in a primitive way, it afforded him a modicum of dignity, squatting in the dim night light and then cleaning himself with a handful of filthy straw. 

The alternative was to do it outside in the fields like a beast and no different to the poor creatures he shared the stable with and there was no way he was going to let the bitch reduce him to that, no way. Every morning he carried his bucket to a drain and emptied the contents then stepped into the wet area and took a brief cold shower, rinsing the wretched bucket at the same time. Meanwhile, his Mistress attended to her 'animals' knowing that his collar provided all the control she needed.

“Bitch, bitch, bitch!” He muttered and turned to jog back across the field as best he could to the sizeable pile of blocks. He was worried now, worried and annoyed with himself. He'd allowed himself to become distracted when he paused for that quick breather; he should have kept moving even if slowly, not stood lost in angry thoughts about, oh, fuck it. How much time had he got left, he wondered?

That bloody collar monitored every movement like some oversized exercise wrist device. Light exercise the bitch had initially said as he stood to attention for her. Light! Moving and stacking heavy masonry blocks from A to B and then no doubt to C and then he knew it would be back to A. Pointless backbreaking labour under a hot sun at the whim of that cruel young she-devil! 

Oh, but no,  Miss Alice wasn't that cruel. No miss fucking benevolence incarnate had told him so herself that very morning hadn't she? He'd been such a good boy recently, and as his bootlicking had been so enthusiastic, she would program twenty minutes of inactivity into his shock collar. Twenty whole minutes when he could stop for a breather. Wasn't that kind of her? Twenty full minutes of inactivity. His choice as well, all at once or in mini-breaks, entirely his decision!

Only the twenty had immediately become fifteen, and his face bitch slapped hard because she didn't like the insolent, ungrateful expression on his face when she told him. Alice was a very pretty, no a beautiful girl a mere twenty or so years of age and more than a head shorter than him. Yet her mastery over him was absolute, and both of them knew it. He couldn't even leave the stable unless the settings programmed into his collar were changed, and if horror of horrors, he should dare to raise a hand in anger against her!

Both of them knew what would happen. She could activate that wretched device around his neck in a trice, and then he would collapse in screaming agony. Alice wouldn't allow it to kill him, oh no, although he knew it was capable of doing that on the higher settings should he attempt ever to abandon her mother's horrific hospitality! 

There would be no escape other than a very short-lived period of unconscious bliss, and then he would awake and find himself fastened helpless upon some hideous device to await his fate. He knew who would be awaiting his return to this brutal reality as judge jury and executioner, but Alice would not kill him.  No, she would only take her time making him wish that she would!

He'd been ordered to drape himself over that sinister piece of furniture she called her mating bench for his ungrateful insolence and thus await her further attention. How long he did not know, but he reckoned he'd been bent over that dreadful thing in fearful apprehension for an hour at least. Maybe less but it had felt longer while she busied herself about the stable and from the frequent cracks and muted squeals of his stablemates, not in the best of tempers!

He'd waited in silence hating himself for his spineless cowardice and lack of decisive action. He wasn't even tied down or secured in any way yet here he was passively awaiting the coming chastisement. Only he was a full-grown man, not some terrified disobedient ten-year-old who'd failed to learn his Latin verbs and now meekly awaited the judicial wrath of some tyrannical Dickensian eighteenth-century headteacher.  

He hadn't been housed in the stables all that long but long enough to have seen the horrid glossy black painted wood, steel and leather apparatus that now supported him in action. He'd seen it dragged out into the middle of the stable more than once and then witnessed ghastly perverse use to which 'Miss' Alice put it! The girl was a shameless wanton degenerate of the worst sort imaginable! He had seen the bitch naked several times now, and she was a beautiful young woman yet without the slightest hint of embarrassment or modesty in front of her captive audience. 

The stable was never noisy, how could it be as apart from him every other occupant was effectively muzzled almost all the time! Once the big doors had closed for the day after evening feeding and the lights extinguished, all he usually heard was the rustle and muted sounds from his fellow captives in their various stalls. However, if the door was opened later and the lights flashed on, there was instant absolute silence. Not a  sound and the abrupt frozen silence was so marked almost like a noise in itself. The calm before the storm!

Heads cruelly garbed in leather straps would watch as Alice wheeled that fearsome piece of apparatus into the centre of the stable and kicked on its brake. He could see many of them from his corner position and wondered what their expressions would be like if not disguised by leather straps, anxiously fearful or perhaps by now just resigned?  The wicked girl would then select a victim whose helpless body would soon be utilised to slake her degenerate lust.

Nor was it ever a quick process. The slender nubile young bitch liked to take her time. First stripping off her top, pants and boots till she was buck naked and not in the least concerned about the watching eyes. It wasn't till he watched her blatant exhibition on the third occasion that he realised why. The lithesome drama queen didn't give a shit, did she?  Why should she, to her, the onlookers were not people but animals, mere animals and she were as indifferent as if doing the same in front of a domestic pet!

Not only that they were her animals, mute beasts, and she had absolute control over every single aspect of their miserable lives to the degree that not even the tamest domestic house cat would ever have tolerated. Why should the young despot feel in any sense abashed when she ruled supreme over her private stinking human petting-zoo? 

Over in his dark, secluded corner, he was the exception, hopefully, overlooked or at least in her eyes probably ranking even lower on the scale than the other unfortunates incarcerated within the building. He fervently hoped that it would stay that way, but at least (collar apart)  he was not wholly helpless unlike the others in their leather harnesses, unusable arms and odd-looking boots. Would he resist if one night she chose him?

He'd been disturbed to find that diabolical though the spectacle was he found aspects of Alice's nocturnal self-gratification visits sexually arousing which was not necessarily a good thing. Miss fucking Alice might have freed him from that pink baby prison, but she had not released his penis from its stainless steel prison, nor was that likely to happen any time soon. That was the down-side of watching her antics,  painful but somehow perversely compelling.

Bloody sun! He could feel it burning the back of his neck as he remembered to bend from the knees picking up two more blocks and lurched forward toward that distant but much smaller pile of similar blocks, his mind still blotting out the present.  Last night it had been a new one.

Alice had chosen a young woman instead of that big coloured guy she’d picked twice before for her perverse fun. Butterly, that’s what she'd called the girl as she dragged her out from a stall and forced her down onto that awful frame.  The same one he’d been told to drape himself over and await her whip or whatever. 

He felt a sense of shame. That poor girl had no chance not trussed up as she was in that horrible harness, arms strapped behind her back, those clumsy-looking boots on her legs. Boots that might add to her stature but were no aid in her feeble resistance, there was no way she could resist being pulled by the smaller girl towards the bench to be strapped down. At least she had shown some resistance whereas he had meekly done as ordered and awaited the young madam's displeasure with not a single restraint upon him bar his collar!

Unlike Butterfly he’d only received a paltry half dozen strokes from the cane, three on each cheek buttock check and although they hurt like hell, he knew Alice hadn’t hit him anything like as hard as she could have. It was a lesson, a reminder of her authority, what she was capable of, but not intended to render him useless for the day's planned activities. Although the bitch had gleefully hinted that if he didn’t put his back into it, there would be ‘seconds’ of a far more severe nature later!

Alice had taken her time playing with her girl pet running her hands all over the body of the squirming captive. Her version of foreplay presumably. He’d watched the bitch do the same with that huge coloured guy only she had left him mute angrily emitting incoherent noises from his gagged mouth. Unsurprisingly he’d been more of a handful when she dragged him over to the bench given his immense size but like this girl, hobbled and denied the use of your arms there was only ever going to be one winner.

Butterfly was Australian, that accent was obvious from the moment she’d been freed from her mouth impediment giving full vent to an angry, desperate tirade that seemed to add to Alice’s amusement. He’d met a few Australians, and they always seemed to have a slight edge about them—a confident toughness both in manner and voice. The girl might be raging with that edge in her voice, but there wasn’t a thing she could do to prevent Alice’s wandering hands!

An edge that vanished entirely to take on a frantic pleading almost wheedling tone a few moments later as her naked tormentor tiring of this game momentarily disappeared through a doorway reappearing a few moments later. Only now she was not entirely naked any more although you could hardly call the huge obscene thing protruding from her crotch and it’s attendant harness, clothing!

The bitch was a sadistic tease of the worst sort but purely for her own amusement and titillation. The way she slowly sashayed forward with that huge black thing with its sizeable bobbing bulbous head almost at the same height as the bent-over victims' eyes.  Nor was she empty-handed, a rectangular wooden paddle in one hand and a short leather strop in the other.

*****

“That’s my school over there” Eva pointed. “That big modern building up beyond those trees. The settings like mega cool but the buildings are horrendous, all glass and concrete. We should be home in another half-hour or there about”

“Ok, you thinking of going to uni then or have you something else in mind when you finish there?” Heather asked.

Eva thought about it. She had not been at all happy to learn that Heather would accompany her back home. However, the journey with her had been nothing like as dreadful as she’d expected. Totally the opposite. Heather had been a pretty cool travelling companion and she’d not previously realised what a great sense of humour the redhead had. Pity they hadn’t struck up that same rapport during the time she’d been staying at Margaret’s, but of course, that was entirely her own fault. Maybe her resentment at her limited role in Patootis training had been a factor. After all, Heather had only been conscientiously doing her job and following her employer's instructions as laid down by her mother. Not her fault if it had seemed as though she was acting as something of an outright spoilsport at times.

The first part of their journey had been passed in near frigid silence. Eva busy with her cell phone and Heather concentrating on the road in front of her. After a couple of hours, Heather had pulled up at roadside parking spot behind a row of trucks.  Eva bought drinks and a couple of burgers from a parked van while Heather discretely checked on the ponies condition. The burger fryer had been over-generous on the extras so, at the first bites from two healthy young, hungry females, they’d sort of ‘squirted’ each other much to their joint amusement! They had started chatting almost immediately after that and were soon giggling, swapping stories and personal confessions like a couple of old friends.

“Not sure if that’s what I want” Eva admitted. “You’ll probably think this sounds a bit silly, but I’m kinda sold on the idea of drama school.”

“Not silly at all” Heather quickly assured her. “If you are interested in acting, then go for it. Perhaps. Margret could help you launch a career.  I know that she has good contacts across the big pond who are pretty influential in the show business world, movies too I gather. I bet she could help you”.

“Yeah, mum told me that. I thought about discussing it with her a few times, but maybe I’ll leave it till some other occasion.” She paused and pulled a face. “Still not decided” she added grinning at her new friend and jerked her thumb over her shoulder towards the trailer. “There are some things I’d miss. What about you, are you going to stay with Margret doing what you do. She says you are the best she”s ever worked with, you know?”

Heather laughed. “That’s very kind of her to say so, and of course I do enjoy the work but” she paused for a moment. “Heck, this is also going to sound kind of silly, but I have a yen to have a farm at some point”.

“Really!” Eva laughed then apologised.” Sorry but I just can’t see you with muddy boots and a straw in your mouth down among the pigs raising bacon and passively milking cows or ploughing fields in the middle of winter ready to grow turnips and cabbages or whatever. Not exactly my idea of fun!”

“Mine neither but that’s not exactly what I had in mind, Eva. Wanna hear a confession?”

“Oooh yes, yes, yes, do tell” was the eager response.

Heather laughed. “Well don’t tell my boss lady this she thinks I’m something of an enigma I gather. Thinks I am sort of asexual so far as this business goes whereas, in reality, I get one hell of a kick out of it, I just don’t feel like showing it in public though.”

“You sure got that one cracked!” Eva giggled. “She calls you the Ice Maiden, you know.”

“Yeah, we’ll keep it to yourself. Oh, I get horny of course Heather admitted. I go home and frig the shit out of myself. Hell, there are times when I’ve not even made it that far and had to park up somewhere. I even keep a couple of vibrators hidden in the car for such emergencies.”

Eva giggled. “Yeah, I can relate to that, but I don’t have that kind of patience”.

“Me neither once I get home if my boyfriend is not there. If he is then I rip the pants right off him” she paused and then laughed. “Poor lamb, he’s good, but I think I’ve aged him ten years, exhausted and drained all the sap out of him! A bit of a problem, though.”

Eva detected a regretful note and gave her driver a quizzical look. “Getting a bit droopy now you mean?”

“No, far from it. I have to credit him for his stamina, ten out of ten and not a viagra pill in sight.”

Eva smiled. “My step-dads got some of those hidden away. Thinks it’s a secret, but we all know. Not that I think he needs them yet, more of an emergency booster I reckon. What’s this problem of yours then?”

Heather sighed deeply “No way we could live together on my farm, I’m afraid.”

“He’s not a country boy at heart then? This big hunk of yours I’ve heard about”.

Heather gave her a rueful smile and shrugged her shoulders. “No, not that. Let’s say it’s more a severe case of incompatible interests. A very severe case!”.

Eva suddenly waved her hand. “No, start slowing down, take the next left. Sorry, I should have told you, satnav’s always have problems with our place. There, turn there just past that white cottage and watch out it can get a bit narrow and twisty along this bit. Watch those dry stone walls, they sort of leap out at you unexpectedly. Well, that was Alice’s excuse for the last lot of dents and scratches she put in the rover! That’s it. Anyway, incompatible?”

Heather glanced up quickly in the mirror to check on the horse-box and replied “Yup, he’s a nice guy a real soft-hearted sweetie. One of those types who always catches the spider in the bath and lets it go outside instead of turning the water on and flushing it down the drain”.”

“So?”

Heather sighed again and made a quick whip-cracking motion with her left hand. “That’s what I mean by incompatible, Eva. You know he hasn’t a clue about my job, poor lamb thinks I work at a sort of animal rescue centre. Keeps suggesting I should bring a puppy home or something.”

Eva collapsed into a prolonged giggling fit. 

“Yeah, exactly,  can’t exactly take one of Margrets animals home can I?”

“Oh, I don’t know. How big is your garage?” Eva was still giggling and tried to dodge the gentle punch. Heather threw her way. “Sorry”.

Heather slowed and manoeuvred partly onto the grass verge to allow a large delivery van coming from the opposite direction to pass. “Bouncy bouncy ponies,” she said looking in the rearview mirror as she steered back on to the road. “Now you know why I didn’t feed them for twenty-four hours and replaced their bits with those big ring gags. They still cut out most of the intelligible noise they can make but will allow anything that comes up to escape. Enough anyway to stop them from choking”

“Considerate”

“Nope, merely being practical. Don’t want to arrive with a couple of travel sick, dead ponies who have choked on their own vomit do we?”

Eva looked back at the innocent-looking trailer behind. She didn’t know it, but her thoughts mirrored those her pony had had a little earlier. It was funny to think of the two helpless ponies captive in there while they drove so innocently through the open countryside passing cars, trucks, even police vehicles. If they only knew? Then a thought struck her, and she turned triumphantly back to Heather.

“I got it!”

“Well, you can keep it kiddo.”

“No, idiot. I know what you mean. You're not intending to farm wheat and barley, are you? You want to keep livestock only they won’t be the usual collection of farmyard animals, will they? At least not in conventional form!” Eva giggled delightedly.

*****

God was it never going to end, journey, nightmare, everything, Jenny thought. She was exhausted from the effort of trying to stay on her feet even though the straps and padding would not have allowed her to fall. At least on her feet despite those awful boots, she felt that she retained some measure of control, some tiny shred of dignity instead of relaxing and allowing her self to just hang like a dead lump of meat swaying with the trailers sickening motion.

Hanging like that was not just uncomfortable it was also painful, but then that was to be expected wasn’t it the way these bastards had treated her. Her whole body felt like one giant bruise! It was dark in the trailer, and it stank to high heaven of shit and vomit both hers and the other women they’d incarcerated in the hideous bouncing, rolling vehicle prison for a journey she didn’t want to think about.

It was galling to know that she was out in public, out in a world where people were not insane sadists capable of doing the most mind-boggling things to other people. Just the other side of that aluminium or whatever it was windowless wall, there was a world of normality. A world not divided into those who were naked, helpless bound in tight unyielding leather harness and smarting from a recent whipping. Or those who had bound her so tightly and wielded the fucking whips so freely, so cruelly and so fucking nonchalantly as though to them it were no more than a minor daily chore!

Dark, stuffy and smelly! She’d tried screaming and shouting, tried to make as much noise as she could with that horrible ring thing in her mouth. It was better than the bit and allowed more sound to be made, although it was almost certainly incomprehensible. Twice they’d stopped for some time, and that’s when she’d really let loose. If only the other women had joined in, maybe together someone would have heard and investigated.

She hadn’t though, so her solo efforts had been in vain. Her throat hurt from the effort and from the bouts of sickness that had frightened her so much. Thank god for that ring instead of the horrible bit; otherwise, she would have choked. As it was, she’d had to swallow some of it back down again. Awful and it burnt her throat or felt like it had. Anyway, it was probably useless; the bloody box might be soundproofed in some way. These evil people weren’t stupid, were they? Evil, vile, cruel, depraved, perverted, sadistic and a hundred similar adjectives. Crazy mad and bad but not stupid.

The other woman had remained mute not responding to any of Jenny’s pathetic attempts to communicate just hanging there in her bonds a darker shadow barely discernible in the dimness of the interior. Jezebel was her name, at least that’s what they called her, which was certainly not her real name. Jezebel and she terrified Jenny.

Not the woman herself for she was incapable of doing anything trussed up as she was, But that was part of the terror for Jenny was similarly dressed and bound and also completely incapable of doing anything bar breath, piss, shit and throw up. Oh, she could cry as well, and she’d done an awful lot of crying in the last few weeks.

That wasn’t the real reason though that Jezebel terrified her. It was what these terrible people had done to her and presumably intended to do to her. No had done and were doing and would carry on doing for there was no way she could see to stop them to prevent them. The crazy fuckers were trying to turn her into an animal, a fucking animal for Christ’s sake! Was she destined to become another Jezebel?

An animal, a dumb, helpless animal with her body covered with all those awful marks and scars like Jezebel. How could people do that to anyone it was beyond her imagination, yet they had and continued to do so. How long had that poor woman suffered this abominable torment and torture? It was torture, real Medieval dungeon torment inflicted without mercy, without compassion, without regard to her humanity! Her ex had been into a bit of mild spanking foreplay but this? Christ almighty she hadn’t been over keen on a few relatively soft bottom slaps but this..... 

Worse still was the knowledge that her two main tormentors were but a few yards away in the towing vehicle, taking her to, to…taking her to that horrible little bitches home and then...then... her mind drifted back to that fateful moment. That strange feeling of nausea, of sudden overwhelming fatigue when she’d steered little her car into...into oblivion!