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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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WARNING!
This text file contains sexually explicit
material. If you do not wish to read this
type of literature, or you are under age,
PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!
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Purebred
by Julia (address withheld)
***
A successful writer is kidnapped and trained as a dog.
She proves to be a successful bitch in two worlds.
(Mdom/F, control)
***
'That's a fine bunch of bitches you got there, Jim.
Which one you figurin' on entering in the dog show?'
Jim nodded, to show his appreciation for Mark's
compliment, then pointed to the far right.
'That one over there.'
'The Spic?'
'No, no. The one behind her there, over close to the
tree, just finishing up taking a leak.' Even as he
spoke, the woman once known as Marsha Banks was indeed
peeing, her left leg held high as the stream of yellow
watered the large maple. She had been a professional
writer of educational material once, things the company
sent off to high schools as instructional guides.
She had in fact been the best at this sort of thing and
her star had indeed been on the rise. But that was
before she had been stalked and eventually captured by
Jim. He had approached her as she prepared to enter her
car, hitting her on the back of the head so hard, he
was afraid he had killed her.
When she awoke she had a throbbing headache and no
clothes. She soon realized she was penned in a large
backyard. Across and behind her knees ran rigid plastic
sheathing. The sheathing prevented her from standing
upright; she could walk on all fours, could--with
effort--reach about a 3/4 standing position, but only
for a moment or two, the strain being too much to
maintain. Other than that, she was untouched.
Several hours passed before Jim left his house and
entered the pen. Marsha backed up as he approached. Jim
smiled reassuringly. 'Don't be frightened. No one going
to hurt you, girl. You must be getting a might hungry
by now. Here, have some of this.'
Jim was a generous trainer. Others might feed their
bitches regular bagged dog food but not Jim; he always
gave all the table scraps he could find to his animals.
He also made sure they had water, shade, and decent
shelter. The dog house -- which Marsha had not even
noticed yet--was a good 6 x 6 feet in size, and nearly
4 feet tall. Such houses don't come cheap but that was
the sort of man Jim was.
Jim knew it would take time for the bitch to adjust. It
always did, especially the bright, pretty ones, like
Marsha.
As he always told his friends, 'Damn education is what
really messes 'em up. Teaches them to be something they
aren't. Then I get stuck with the job of retraining
them. All I can say for sure is, this job was a lot
easier in my daddy's day.'
Two weeks. It took exactly two weeks for Marsha to even
begin to come around. Wouldn't eat for the first four
days.
Always kept her distance whenever Jim came around.
Tried repeatedly to walk upright -- her only hope of
escaping, she realized -- until she was so exhausted
she fell asleep outside her dog house, even in bad
weather. Her beautiful hair looked straggily and she
grew increasingly dirty. Fact is, by the end of that
second week she was a complete mess. Marsha came to
realize this and it was this fact -- that she was
totally abandoned and at the mercy of this stranger and
to top it all off, she was a physcial wreck -- that
broke her spirit. Marsha learned to settle down.
Jim saw the change and moved to take advantage of it.
He entered the pen, walked right up to her and looked
her over. At such close range, he could see just how
messy she had become. 'Hell, I'm raisin purebred dogs
here, not pigs.' He put a collar around her neck and a
leash. He pulled gently on the leash and led Marsha
towards his house. She meekly followed, her dirt
encrusted hair hanging in clumps on either side of her
face, matching her gait and keeping movement with her
large, swaying tits.
He led her up to the back porch and tied his end of the
leash to a railing. He went inside for a minute and
returned with dog shampoo, a brush and a hose. The
other end of the hose was attached to the kitchen
faucet. He knelt down beside Marsha and let the water
run over her beautiful body. He lathered her up good,
and scrubbed the accumulated crud off of her body. He
sprayed her clean of dirt and suds, then dried her off.
'There you go, girl. Now you lookin' pretty as a
picture again.' He patted her ass and walked her back
to her pen. Marsha sobbed but did not protest.
Marsha of course had not completely given up. She had
simply realized that any escape was going to take lots
of time and lots of thought. But as the time and the
thoughts went by and no possibility of escape appeared,
she gradually grew accustomed to being treated as a
bitch. Over several months, Jim spent an increasingly
amount of time with her, teaching how to walk properly,
to sit up and beg, with tongue panting and eyes wide
opened.
He taught her to catch a frisbee with her teeth; he
particularly enjoyed watching her leap for the object
flying towards her, her arms moving up, her tits
flopping wildely, her fluffy pubic hairs clearly
visible. Jim felt he had indeed lucked out when he had
acquired Marsha Banks.
After six months, Marsha could be said to be completely
broken in. She shit and pissed out in the open without
giving it a thought; she drank and ate from her doggie
dishes as though she had been brought up that way. She
moved around the yard, looking for things to capture
her attention.
On bad nights, Jim had taken her into the house and let
her curl up on his lap while he watched television. He
stroked her body, giving special attention to her ass
and pussy. He liked stroking her pussy until it became
sopping wet. Jim would laugh then, and move his fingers
up into her cunt hole, all the time praising her as the
finest of doggies.
He did not even feel the need to break her down by
reading newspaper articles to her about her former
life: how her boyfriend had become engaged to another
woman, or how the company had given her job away. Or
how her old apartment had been rented out, or how her
credit rating had been ruined by non-payment of bills.
None of this was necessary, Jim realized. Marsha was
doing just fine, just fine.
Over a year's time Jim acquired several more bitches. A
young Hispanic girl with the shiniest black hair he had
ever seen; two black women in their early 20s, college
girls whom, he was delighted to find out, had been on
the cheerleading squad. He found another white bitch,
one with flaming red hair. But she caused so much
trouble with the other dogs, Jim had to have her put to
sleep. One good thing came of this: the other new
bitches immediately took the hint.
A week after showing off his kennel to his friend, Jim
entered Marsha in the local dog show. She had lived up
to his expectations, taking home the blue ribbon. As
she jumped out of the car (he no longer had to keep her
on a leash all the time) Jim whistled and motioned for
Marsha to come in the house.
Marsha crawled over to Jim and gleefully followed him
inside. Jim led her to the livingroom and snapped his
fingers, indicating she was to jump up onto the coffee
table. He patted her head with one hand and undid his
pants with the other. 'Damn but we showed them, didn't
we girl? I knew you could do it! And we are going to do
it again next year, aren't we? Damn right we are!'
He now moved up behind Marsha and gently slapped the
underside of her cunt. She obediently lowered her head,
her big tits stroking the table. At the same time she
lifted her ass. Jim moved his cock into position and
slowly drove the long hard shaft into Marsha's cunt.
She groaned as he began to methodically fuck her.
'Know what else?' he panted. 'You're a certified
purebred now, with a blue ribbon to boot. It's time we
bred you, girl. Time for you to have your first
litter.'
Marsha responded by rocking her head back and forth,
still groaning as the man emptied his cum into the most
wonderful bitch he had ever owned...
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kristen's collection - Directory 36