Message-ID: <890eli$9705251927@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Archived-At: <URL:http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/Year97/890>
Path: qz!news.accessus.net!not-for-mail
X-Path-Preload: news.accessus.net preloaded to thwart rogue canceller there
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam
Approved: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
From: edwardt@interlog.com (Mr. Ed)
Subject: Pooch's Story (Part 1) by Mr. Ed {BnD, SM, Slave, MF/F)
This is my first effort at fantasy literature. Constructive criticism is
welcome all other will be disregarded. The story is bondage and discipline
based. If this is not your cup of tea please read no further
POOCH'S STORY Part1
Coming Home
The rain sheets down as Pooch hurriedly makes her way towards the old
brownstone at the end of Kennel St. She is running as fast as she can in her
chunky pumps but it is still awkward. She would make better time in stocking
feet but she doesn't dare remove the shoes for fear of ruining her nylons. A
million thoughts run through her head one of which is that her running will
put a ladder in her stockings. It's only September and she has but six good
stockings to last till the new year. Her back and shoulders ache from the
days work in the picture frame plant and her lungs are sore from the run from
the bus stop. She can feel a blister developing on her left heel. Still she
keeps running because the overriding question in her mind is how late is she?
The cold rain soaking the pink sweater was hardly a concern. The run had
made Pooch felt hot. She knew she was late and that made her feel ill.
Up the front steps of the house she raced. The outside door was unlocked,
thank God she thought. In she slid closing the door behind her. Pooch found
herself in a small portico, empty except for the large coconut mat in the
corner by the outside door. In one of the side walls between the outside and
the inside door was a milk door. Pooch opened it and quickly placed her shoes
inside. The pink cardigan was unbuttoned, removed, folded in four and placed
on top of the shoes Next she reached back to the zipper on the back of her
dress and pulled it down. The simple brown dress with a flower print slid off
her shoulders. Pooch stepped out of it folded the dress and placed it in the
milk box. She was now dressed in just a rather worn looking white brassier, a
similarly old looking white garter belt and plain taupe stockings. The
right one had a nasty run at the heal, near the point where she had felt the
blister. Pooch was hairless below her neck. This was made obvious by her
lack of panties. Panties were not allowed. During her period Pooch could wear
a diaper, but that was as close to panties as she ever came. She also had no
watch, no jewelry, no handbag, no wallet, no keys and no money. They were all
forbidden. Pooch saw the run in the stocking and bit her lower lip. This was
not turning out to be a good day.
There was no hesitation in removing the rest of the clothing. Every moment
was important. If Ed unlocked the door to the inside of the house and saw
her out of position there would be extra punishment.
The under clothes were shoved into the milk compartment and the door shut.
Pooch gave the handle a turn and this locked the milk door. Her clothes were
now out of reach and she was totally nude. Pooch now turned towards the right
front corner of the entry way, where the cocoa mat was and kneeled on it
being careful to be very close to the wall but not to touch it. Her toes
pointed straight back and she kneeled at attention with her hands at her
sides and fingers pointing straight down. All was quiet.
Where Pooch had felt hot just minutes age she now began to feel chilled. She
was wet from the rain and the portico had no heating duct. It was a cold wet
fall. She could stand the chill, it was the waiting she hatted. Pooch knew
that the longer it Took Ed to open the door the more severe her punishment
would be. Ed checked for her about once every twenty minutes. If he opened
the door and she was out of position the door would be closed again and she
would have to wait another twenty minutes. That would be counted as the
amount of time she was late. The time she actually got home didn't matter. If
Ed was in a foul mood he might make her wait even longer and use that time to
build up his own anger.
Today was her fourtieth birthday. No one would remember, she thought. After
all who ever heard of a slaves birthday? Pooch did and it made her a bit
more sad. Time was passing by and she knew the rest of her life would be
spent in bondage. She just couldn't know to whom. Ed had said many times
that when she no longer pleased him she would be sold. Although life was
harsh now it would be much worse if she were sold. At her age she would be
no more than a piece of meat to someone who saw a quick profit in using her
as a sub in an s&m brothel or the star of some snuff film. All traces of her
pathetic existence would probably be erased in a vat of acid. The thought
that things could actually be worse was not a lot of comfort. Pooch knew she
would be howling later tonight.
For someone of forty with ten years spent in slavery Pooch was still in
remarkably good shape. At 5'8" and 110 pounds she was as thin as a rail
except for a full pair of breasts, 36C. With her arms raised every rib was
clearly visible. Ed thought this was sexy and he made sure that her weight
didn't increase. Her brown hair was cut in a short pageboy style inspired by
pictures of ancient Egyptian slaves. This was a style simple enough for Pooch
to be able to cut herself with scissors and a mirror. It required no upkeep.
It didn't cover any of her assets and most important to Ed it didn't get in
the way of a good hiding. Large, blue eyes softened the other features of
her face making pooch look a bit younger than her years. Her nose was of
average size straight with just a small bulb on the end and a slight bump in
the middle where it had been broken once when Ed was in a drunken fit. Her
face had a collision with his knee. The massive bleeding had scared the hell
out of Ed and it hadn't happened again. He was good with his hands and when
he sobered up he packed Pooches nose with cotton and reset the soft bone
himself. There would be no emergency room for Pooch. Ed had actually done a
pretty good job. The weight that Pooch did carry was almost all muscle. Bone
protruded at the points of her hips and there was no padding on her ass or
thighs just nice muscle definition The muscles of her calves, stomach, back
and shoulders were also well defined. Her build was no accident. It was the
result of hard labour and a compulsory training program. Pooches' breasts
sagged a bit, normal for any woman over twenty-five. In her case they had
been beaten, twisted, stretched, clamped, tied, pierced, bitten, pinched and
burned on a regular basis. Ed loved what he referred to as tit play. A dark
ring surrounded the base of each breast where they were tied by the tit rope
so many times that the rope had left permanent marks. Each breast was
covered with tiny small scars and bruises. Those tits kept reminded her of
their existence all times. Her naked mons fared little better. The flesh had
turned brown and was constantly swollen. The colour helped to hide marks and
bruising but the nerves were alive and well. When her legs were spread three
eyelets could be seen running along the length of each of her inner pussy
lips. These had been inserted a long time ago using a tool from the shoe
making trade. When these had been inserted, it was one of the very few times
Pooch had passed out from pain. Little plugs of flesh had actually been
punched out with a leather punch and then the eyelets were inserted and
permanently set. Since Ed had read that one could avoid passing out through
conscious effort this was now considered a serious offense and was punished
as such. The most striking feature of Pooch's naked body however were the
marks covering her back. This was Ed's living canvas. Her muscular back was
covered with weales, bumps and bruises colored from yellow to purple. the
marking ran from the bottom of her buttocks right up to the tops of her
shoulders. Soon this painting would be refreshed.
Her life was very structured and governed by strict rules. She owned nothing
and possessing anything other then the clothes on her back was forbidden,
thus no money, purse, keys etc. Entertainment of any sort was not allowed, no
television, radio, books, magazines or newspapers. Outside the house Pooch
was not to be assertive with anyone. In the house things went much further.
There was no talking unless spoken to and then only to respond to what was
asked. She was never to give an opinion, argue or ask for anything. In the
house her gaze was to be directed at peoples feet, never their face.
Obedience was to be absolute, with no hesitation, and this extended to anyone
in the house. She was responsible for all the cooking and house work. No
decisions were her own. Pooch was told when and what to eat, when to use the
toilet or in her case bucket, when and where to sleep etc. There could be no
friendships or communications with anyone outside the house. Touching herself
was one of the most serious infractions. Masturbation was a totally selfish
act and slaves lived only to please their masters, never themselves. Ed
actually kept a book filled with rules along with minimum punishments. He
also wrote down every infraction so that if he saw Pooch in frequent
violation of any rule the punishment would be increased till her behavior was
corrected. He kept this as a permanent record with no expiry. She couldn't
get over how awful it felt to be confronted with things she had done eight or
nine years ago but everything was part of the permanent record.
The bristles from the mat were starting to irritate Pooch's knees and
especially the tops of her feet. Ed seemed to delight in finding was to make
every routine a little more difficult or uncomfortable for her. Kneeling on
the tile floor would be just too easy. There is nothing like waiting to make
time slow to a crawl. The minutes slowly passed. The sick feeling in her
stomach got worse. "Please, please open the door", she thought. Finally she
heard the bolt turn and the door open.
"Well you shit faced whore your fourty minutes late", Ed yelled at her in his
most intimidating voice.
"It's the second time this month. I guess I didn't create a strong enough
impression on you last time, isn't that right whore "?
Pooch knew better than to disagree. "Yes master. I'm sorry master".
"Well you're going to remember this time and your going to remember for a
very long time".
"Get up and start my dinner and don't bother putting on the serving outfit
you've wasted enough time. Marla will be coming over later and there is much
to do".
"Thank goodness for small favors" Pooch thought.
She hated the serving outfit which was a bit like a french maid costume with
only the cap, a tiny apron, black fishnet stockings, garter belt and
extremely high stiletto heels with a heavy ankle strap ensuring they stayed
on. The shoes had been purchased from a specialty shop deliberately a size
too small. They hurt her feet terribly and slowed everything down. Hearing
that Marla was coming over was another matter. Pooch hatted Marla in a way
that she hatted no one else. She was Ed's girl friend and a lot prettier and
younger than she. Marla loved to flaunt her relationship with Ed in Pooch's
face. She was extremely smart, a court room lawyer, and she was an
unrepentant sadist that liked inflicting psychological torture as much as
physical. Although nobody else knew it, Pooch was more of a reason for Marla
spending time with Ed than he was. The fact that Marla knew that Pooch hatted
her and yet had to be just as obedient to her orders as she was to Ed's was
just so delicious.
"There will be no dinner for you tonight" Ed said.
Pooch figured as much. She was almost never fed before a whipping because
there was too much danger of choking on her own vomit if she were gagged.
She got up on her toes and keeping her eyes down walked past Ed into the
house and toward the kitchen.
--
+--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+
| story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us |
| Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ |
\ <URL:http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/> .../assm/faq.html> /