FIVE
Hard Night's Day
Either Ken was very good, or Cindy was very vocal- maybe a bit of both.
Whatever, it was a long time before the sound of their loving finally died away
and I was allowed just the slightest peace.
I lay there on the dirty floor, long since giving up that I might free myself
though I still occasionally rotated my wrists and pulled at the sticky, binding
tape. I learned quickly that if I struggled too hard it became hard to breathe.
The tape of my gag had been wrapped all the way around my head in several turns
creating a wide swath that totally covered my lips and touched just under my
nose. Worse I was still somewhat plugged up from the slight cold I had caught
the night before sitting outside after getting drenched in the rain. I feared I
might suffocate, and doubted that Ken would check on my screams even if he heard
me.
The earlier warmth of the day had vanished too, making my captivity all the
worse as I lay there on the rough wooden floor shivering. I could feel a stiff
breeze seeping in around the frame of the one tiny window in the store room, the
light from the street lamp situated just perfectly to beam in on me, putting me
in a rectangular spotlight on the floor. It was chilly, and the tiny room stank
of paint and thinner as Ken often stored some of his supplies there, along with
canned foods and boxes of junk- and now me.
I tried to sleep, but it came in short fits that generally ended with me waking
in pain as my muscles cramped or my breathing labored. I was on my belly with
my arms tied back and connected to my legs that had been folded over to create a
tight hog tie. My head hurt when I rested it forward on the floor, and my neck
hurt when I tried to ease that pain and hold it up. My shoulders were screaming
from the odd tension before too long, as were my legs from being bent.
Worst of all was the raging hard on that I had to endure. My penis would not go
down, and despite the fact that I could root around on it, I could not get
release. It just seemed to get harder and harder beneath me, continually
throbbing and finally aching with a perpetual case of 'blue balls'. I felt it
constantly then, with every little movement, all through the night.
My dog tags jangled with my movements as well, rattling on the floor with my
squirming. They dangled from my neck, and if I shifted just so I could see them
actually, gleaming in the street light's glow. I could see the words inscribed
as plain as day...
'Beth's'
"I wanted everyone to know you belonged to me." Her words as I draped her
present about my neck for the first time just two nights past now came back to
haunt me. Beth had definitely gotten what she wanted. I belonged to her,
literally, body and soul. She had taken my car, my money, and even my freedom.
She had taken my life away with a simple loving act of giving me a birthday
present.
But how?
I stared at the dog tags lying there on the floor. They almost seemed to be
glowing, sparkling to hold my attention. I turned away, jerking my head
abruptly and I heard them jangle with the sudden movement. They stayed in my
thoughts, but trapped as I was with little to do but mope or think, I thought.
Had Beth done something to me somehow? It seemed incredible as I tried to
recall all of the horrible things that had happened to me since I first put on
the dog tags. That did seem to be the catalyst, the thing that had sparked
everything off.
I remembered the night of my birthday. How Beth had given me the 'gift' of her
feet rather than a night of sex. She had said that she knew what I really
wanted, and granted I had always been intrigued with the whole dominance,
submission thing, but it had simply been a fantasy to try with her. A game to
play, me kissing her feet, her tying me up. I had never wanted it to such a
real extreme- Or had I?
Did she know me better than I knew myself? Maybe, but even if I willfully did
as she said that first night because I secretly wanted to- kissing her booted
feet at least- that did not explain why I had simply left without a fight,
walking home in a storm. I had not wanted to do that. I would have done
anything for her true, but c'mon. And the way she had treated me, uncaring and
cold, cruel even. Where had that come from?
And none of that explained what had happened at work. There was no way on my
best drunken stupor that I would have found the courage to ask a girl like Tammy
out let alone offer to massage her feet- especially in the back room of my job
where anyone could have walked in. I had loved it- and what had happened later
with Rhonda I realized. Both scenes got me hot beyond belief, but that did not
excuse why I had done it in the first place. It had been humiliating, and
gotten me fired. And- God help me- even that had excited me; Bill roughing me
up and throwing me out. Was I really that pathetic? Had Beth brought that out
in me somehow, or was there more to it?
And again my thoughts turned to the dog tags. I remembered every time I
hesitated or struggled to resist a command, I had seen them sparkle or heard
them jangle, or even felt their weight around my neck. Were they the key? I
think...
I remembered that I did what I did when ordered. There were suggestions, but
when I hesitated there would be a command and I would obey. Beth had told me to
'go home'. Tammy had told me to 'lick her feet'. Even Bill had ordered me to
'get out' and I had. And at home with Ken and Beth it had been the same. Ken
had been hesitant at first, but Beth had egged him on, telling him to take
command and order me to do things. That was it then- the orders. It was not so
much that I wanted to do the things they made me do, even though I'm sure that
somewhere in my subconscious I did to an extant. It was the commands that got
me going and made me submissive somehow. Had Beth somehow made me susceptible
to commands? And again I returned to the dog tags.
I wondered how- they appeared to be simple pieces of cheap, shiny metal. She
had bought them at the sex shop she had said. Were they special somehow- magic?
Yeah, right- no more Sci Fi Channel for me. But what then? A focus maybe; they
were always catching my attention. Were they meant to, to keep me in line? Had
Beth somehow hypnotized me using the tags as...
And then it just suddenly all fell into place. The short simple commands, the
things they said and I did- DOG tags...
Dogs don't wear clothes...
Puppy- she called me puppy...
My God...
Beth had not made me a slave. She had turned me into a dog!
***
I jerked awake to the sound of bells wailing somewhere in the distance. I
moaned, my body protesting the sudden sharp movement and I reared up, and
quickly thumped my head against the floor.
I blinked back tears from the sudden pain, the dim room spinning as I tried to
focus and remember where I was. I quickly realized that I was still bound and
gagged and locked in the cramped storeroom off the kitchen. Nothing had changed
except that daylight had replaced the harsh glare of arc sodium that had been
beaming in through the tiny window. And of course, there was the bells.
It was the telephone I realized as my head started to clear and I came more
awake. I heard movement then, beyond the locked door, a thumping as someone ran
across the floor outside. The ringing stopped abruptly, finally, and I heard
Ken's voice harsh and scratchy and far away-
"Hello!"
"Yeah... yeah..."
"He... No, he can't come to the phone right now. Can I take a message?"
"Cool. No, no problem. I'll tell him. G'bye."
I listened intently as he hung up the phone. Obviously the call had been for
me, but Ken had played it off well without missing a beat. At least he hadn't
said 'He's all tied up at the moment'.
I heard him stomping about then, moving around the apartment freely, and going
about his morning ritual. After awhile I heard the toilet flush, then more
stomping followed by low talking as I assumed he returned to his room and Cindy.
After awhile they were both fully up and about. I could hear snatches of
conversation, but not enough to understand what they were talking about. I
could see their shadows drifting under the door as they moved about the kitchen
totally ignoring me. Did they realize that I needed water? Did they care?
Hell, I needed to pee.
I heard the television come on eventually. I smelled bacon and eggs frying and
my stomach started to growl.
I looked up when I heard the sound of the bolt sliding back on the door. I
moaned, seeing shadows, someone's toes just visible beneath the door in the
crack above the floor. A cool breeze washed over me as the door finally swung
open, causing me to shiver and squirm.
I saw Cindy standing there. She looked almost angelic framed in the doorway
with the kitchen's light shining behind her. Her long black hair was still
messed and tousled from sleep, and she was chewing on a stray strand as she
frowned down at me. She was dressed in one of Ken's tee shirts again- what she
usually wore when she spent the night- with a pair of black rubber flip-flops on
her feet. Looking up her long, tanned legs I saw the slightest snatch of silver
beneath the hem of the shirt before she realized what I was seeing and pressed
her legs closer together. I saw she was grinning sheepishly, almost
apologetically and blushing.
"Sorry," she said as she stepped into my cell and around me. I stared at her
feet as she stepped right beside my head. I could smell her, the rubber and
perfume, and marveled at the way her toenails glistened in the dim light. She
moved behind me, out of my line of sight but I could hear her rummaging about in
the boxes on the shelves. I wondered what she was up to and squirmed, trying to
see. I moaned into my gag for her attention-
"Mmmn..." I said, or tried to. "Mmm- Iii- Eee!"
"Where is it, Ken?" she shouted out, ignoring me. "I can't find it. Which
box?"
"Never mind."
I looked up to see that Ken had joined us. He was dressed already in jeans and
a tee shirt though he was just in his socks. I heard Cindy shuffle behind me,
and my eyes grew wide with a sudden fear as I saw him pull a pocketknife from
his pocket and flip it open.
"I got it," he said stepping up by my head and squatting down. I could smell
his dirty socks, a far cry from the pleasant odors of Cindy's feet. He shifted
forward to his knees, actually straddling my head and forcing it to the floor
between his legs. I could feel his bulge heavy on my neck and he smelled of
sex. He grabbed my arms-
"Hold his legs," he said and a second later I felt Cindy's cold, soft hands
about my ankles. There was a quick ripping sound and I felt some relief as
Cindy eased my legs down and out. Ken was slicing through the duct tape with
his knife and in seconds I could move again.
He had not removed the gag as he got up and stepped back, but I didn't care. I
was almost crying as I rolled about, stretching my cramped limbs and tearfully
rubbing my sore ankles and wrists. I felt Cindy step over me again and turned,
looking up to see them both standing in the doorway, watching. Ken folded his
knife and stuffed it back into his pocket with a frown.
"I- I'm sorry, man," he whispered. He looked sad as Cindy rubbed his arm,
forcing a sympathetic smile. "Things just... I was drunk, I guess. That's no
excuse, but Beth... well I guess she just convinced me and things got outta
hand. She said it was what you wanted. I was drunk..."
"Mmmn..."
"Jesus, Ken. Can we take his gag off now?" Cindy squatted down at my side,
started picking at the tape with her long nails before Ken could answer. He
reached out though, laying a hand on her shoulder-
"Hold on," he said, licking his lips as he returned his attention to me. Cindy
paused, looking up at him. "Forget the money, man. I can cover this month
and... well after what you went through yesterday..." He shrugged. "Let's just
all try and forget it, okay?"
I nodded, and so did he with a smirk. Cindy took that as her cue to take off my
gag and within a few moments I could finally breathe again. It was still
humiliating, having her free me and then to have her towering over me while I
sat there in my underwear at her feet. I thanked her, but could not look at her
so I stared at her toes until she finally got the hint and followed Ken out of
the storeroom.
I found my pants and shoes in the bathroom when I finally got up enough strength
and courage to leave my little prison from the night before. I looked at my
reflection in the mirror as I waited for the water in the sink to get hot and
saw that I was filthy again. I had been sweating at my chores, then bound and
gagged all night on the storeroom's dusty floor. I stank too, I could smell
under my arms.
And I saw the dog tags.
They hung about my neck still, twirling and jangling with my movements, shining
in the light. I would find out soon enough if they were the cause of my
troubles and reached up to pull them off over my head-
I couldn't do it. I could hold them, take them in hand but I could not raise
them up over my head. They would not have fit over anyway I realized as I
fingered the clasp. Again though, I could touch it but I could not seem to
manipulate my fingers to undo the catch. It was like some mental block
preventing me. I couldn't understand, but eventually I got the hint and started
to wash up. I would need help.
I stepped back into the kitchen, ignoring the mess that Ken and Cindy had made
making breakfast when I heard a car horn. I looked out the back window and saw
the two of them in Ken's truck. He was motioning for me to come out and he
started yelling over the rattling roar of the truck's engine even as I stepped
off the back porch-
"I gotta take Cindy home, but I forgot to tell you..."
"Ken-"
"Your boss called this morning. He wants to see you."
"Ken! Wait!" I ran towards the truck but he was already cranking the steering
wheel to angle the truck towards the alley that ran behind our house.
"Maybe he wants to give you your job back?"
"Ken!"
"Later!" he shouted, honking his horn again as he spun out on the back lawn,
spewing dust and gravel as he steered into the alleyway. I trotted after,
coughing in the dusty cloud of their wake, watching as Cindy turned and smiled,
giving me a friendly wave. Dammit!
I stared down at the dog tags dangling from my neck. I had to get them off
before-
"Hi, puppy..."
God...
I turned and saw Beth standing there at the back door. She was all smiles and
fresh with her hair brushed out and her skin glowing from her morning shower.
She was dressed in a blue denim skirt that flared out, pleated just above her
knees and a tight blue and white striped tank top that accentuated her breasts
nicely. I saw too that she was wearing those blue suede boots that I loved so
much as she stood there tapping her foot, looking me up and down with her hands
on her hips. She looked so hot...
I shook my head, trying not to get caught again in whatever spell she had cast
on me. I should have turned and ran, but I needed to end this. I needed to
confront her, and I thought that then and there, knowing what I thought I knew,
I could. I started forward and saw her frown, her lower lip puckering out in a
pout-
"You don't look happy to see me puppy," she said, her voice sounding hurt. I
tried to ignore her, but-
"Come," she said sliding her foot forward until it hung over the edge of the
back porch. "Welcome me like I taught you."
I knew what she meant, what she wanted and without a thought I rushed forward
and dropped to my knees. I leaned in and started to kiss the tip of her boot,
welcoming her as I had Cindy the night before.
"Good puppy..." she purred and I felt my pride and excitement growing with her
praise. I kissed and licked all the harder until she simply pulled her foot
back out of reach. I looked up, panting and almost whimpering as she smiled
sweetly down at me. "Come inside," she said and turned, disappearing through
the door with a twirl of her skirt.
I scrambled up the stairs, following at her command...
