Pooch's Story
Part 2 Evening Rituals
Ed was holding the small rubber whip which raised the nastiest welts and stung
like a dozen bees. He also smelled of alcohol. These were very bad signs for
Pooch.
She knew Ed rarely carried around the "supervisor", as he called the
small whip, unless he intended to use it and alcohol made him much freer in
administering discipline. "Hurry up". She heard the whip crack and
then felt the sting on her right side intensify to a burn. Pooch held her
breath and ran to the kitchen. "Fuck that hurts" she thought. Tears
started forming in her eyes but not a sound escaped her throat. "Marla
said that she thought I had been too easy on you and I think she's right."
Ed left for the library without another word while Pooch was left to
contemplate that bitches ever increasing influence on him. She couldn't help it
but it made her blood boil. Pooch quickly prepared a tossed salad and placed a
salmon steak on the frying pan. It was Friday and on Fridays Ed liked to have
fish. It was a part of his Catholic upbringing. There was still some wine left
from the previous day. She poured a glass and set it down beside Ed's plate
on the kitchen table. Pooch didn't want Ed to get any more intoxicated but he
liked wine with his meal so that was that. Just as the fish was cooked Ed walked
in and sat down. The "supervisor' was stuck through his belt. Pooch served
the fish and stepped back two steppes from the table waiting to serve any of
Ed's needs. "Have your heels touched the floor since you've been home
this evening"? "No master" Pooch answered.
"Put tape on your heels" "Yes master", she answered.
Pooch went over to one of the kitchen drawers and removed two squares of double
sided tape. She discarded the cover paper and applied one square to the bottom
of each heal. If the heel touched the floor, or anything else for that matter,
it would pick up evidence that she had broken one of the rules. She must only
walk on her toes while barefoot. Pooch returned to her spot.
"More wine" barked Ed.
Pooch poured a second glass.
"Is there any pie left" ? "Yes master" "Good. Cut me a
slice and then straighten up the house. I want the house neat and the dishes
done by 7:30. At 7:30 I want you in the playroom with your ankles fastened for
the bar. You're going to get forty with the "big boy" for being late
today. One stroke for every minute. I think that will get your attention. Oh,
and when Marla gets here we are going to have a little court session with her
as judge. Thanks to her advise I've done some surveillance on you and found
that you have been less than honest. That will be all." Pooch was floored.
Forty stokes with the "big boy", what could he be thinking? The big
boy was a three inch wide urethane strap, three feet long, a quarter inch thick
attached to a wooden handle with a `knob and loop of leather at the end to go
around Ed's wrist. About every three quarters of an inch in any direction there
was a hole drilled through the strap to let air pass through and prevent the
blows being softened by a cushion of air. This was insanity she thought. She
had received twenty strokes once before and besides going delirious from the
pain she couldn't straighten up for a week and then only with great difficulty.
If she survived forty, Pooch was convinced, she would be crippled for life. And
then Ed expected to have some court session after that? "Good luck, I'll
be dead", she thought. Now there was a clue to his foul mood. He had
caught her breaking the rules and it was all thanks to that bitch Marla. What
had he caught her doing? She felt like she was going to throw up. She felt her
life was over.
Despite the feelings of impending doom Pooch bore down and finished her chores.
The bed was made, carpets vacuumed, dishes washed and items straightened.
Shortly before 7:30 Pooch made her way down the cellar steps to the
"playroom". The playroom, as Ed called it, evoked no thoughts of play
for Pooch. It was a cold, damp, dark and unpleasant place by design. It had
been built by Pooches own labor. It was lower than the rest of the basement by
some two feet and was entered through a double thick, windowless, steel door.
A heavy rubber gasket around the edge created a total seal. The room was a
large square shape with an aggregate cement floor, concrete block walls and a
wood beam ceiling. Illumination came from a single bare light bulb placed near
the base of one wall creating shadows that went up instead of down for a very
macabre effect. There was a torch on each wall for effect, though they were
seldom used. The air was damp and pungent. A hole had been cut into the main
sewer pipe which ran down one corner of the room and a small bracket had been
inserted into the pipe. waste running down the pipe would hit the bracket and
a small amount would splash out of the hole.
This constantly renewed the biological materials growing on most of the
surfaces. To one side was a medieval looking gynecologists table made from
rough hewn wood with stirrups projecting of one end and leather straps
everywhere. The largest item, in the room was a rack. Again it was of rough
wood construction with chains and manacles for the ankles at one end and
similar fixtures for the wrists attached to a giant wood drum at the other end.
Many iron rings were embedded in the walls and floor. On the ceiling were four
pulleys allowing each limb to be attached and adjusted separately. On the wall
just to the side of the door was a storage area for the assorted whips,
binders, cuffs, harnesses, clamps, dildos and other toys. One item that didn't
seem to fit into the room was a reclining leather chair set well above the
filthy floor on a large wooden box. It almost had a throne like quality. It was
Marla's seat and Pooch had to make sure she cleaned it every day.
The bitch didn't want to get her clothes soiled while she watched her suffer.
In one corner, set into the floor was a two foot square iron plate with a
large ring in the center, which acted as a handle. A couple of bolts on
opposite sides of the plate entered the concrete so that it could not be
pushed up from below. This was the entry to "the pit", a seven foot
deep hole with concrete walls and a dirt floor. When in the pit it was like
being buried alive except you couldn't lie down. Pooch walked down the steps
and walked straight ahead toward the opposite wall. Five feet from the wall
and parallel to it was a "T" formed from a couple of two inch metal
pipes. It had been embedded at least a foot into the concrete floor was as wide
as Pooch's hips and the top was hip high. On the floor , about a foot past each
end of the T, on the floor, were short chains with leather ankle cuffs
attached. Pooch took a pair of leather wrist cuffs, which had been resting on
the top of the T and tightened the Velcro straps around her wrists. She then
spread her legs, squatted down and fastened each ankle to a cuff on the floor.
She then stood up straight, always careful to stay on her toes, placed her hands
behind her head and stood facing the back wall with the top of the T just
touching the front of her hips. She now waited for Ed and possibly a painful
end to her life.
Pooch began to actually tremble from fear.
Ed walked in shut the door behind him and walked to the back well.
"Give me your wrists".
Pooch bent at the waist, hips over the crossbar and extended her arms over her
head stretching toward the back wall, her back parallel to the floor. Ed
grabbed each wrist pulled it as tight as he could and attached each to separate
chains on the wall. Pooch was stretched tight with the cross bar bruising her
hips. A wave of panic began to overtake her. Ed walked to the storage area and
picked up the big boy along with a bit gag. He walked back to Pooch's straining
body and used it as a table to set down the strap and gag.
"Before I start your punishment I have something to say to you and you will
have a decision to make." Ed had her undivided attention. Dare she hope
that she might get out of this? "About ten years ago you agreed to be my
slave and accept, absolutely, everything that would come from that decision.
For all the years since then you have lived up to that agreement and for the
most part you have been magnificent. I never dreamed that I would find somebody
like you and you have made the last ten years more enjoyable, more loving and
more exciting than any man deserves. Thank you Pooch. Thank you very much. I
love you with all my soul. I love you much more than you might think".
Ed's voice was soft and a bit unsteady. "Today is your fortieth
birthday" Ed continued, "and I feel we have come to a crossroads.
Lately things have become a bit stagnant between us and I don't think that you
have been very happy. I know that I've told you that when you stopped pleasing
me that I would sell you to some white slavers and that would be the end of it,
but Pooch I just can't do that. I don't have it in me. Pooch stared at her
dangling bruised tits. She was totally confused. He loves me, he's tired of me,
he's going to get rid of me, he's not going to get rid of me, what's going on?
It's true that she hadn't been deliriously happy lately but she was still
trying her best. Hadn't she walked into the position she was in now knowing it
may mean the end of her life. She no longer had any other life. Tears began to
well up in her eyes.
"Things are going to have to change because I don't think a long, drawn out
decline in this relationship is what either of us want, so this is the choice
that you must make". "The first choice is that we end our
relationship right now. I will provide you with enough money to start a new
life. You will agree to reside somewhere distant from her and we will never
see each other again. There would be no whipping but instead I will drive you
downtown and let you go".
"The second choice is that you accept what you have coming to you and
believe me I am not going to hold back. You will then go to trial for your past
transgressions. Marla will be the judge and you will agree to accept any
judgment that she may hand down.
I will also warn you that Marla will be moving in with me permanently and you
will serve two masters full time. With Marla here all the time things will be a
lot harder on you and I think that that is just what it might take to make
things exciting again". "I will give you a minute to choose. If you
choose to stay then just open your mouth wide and I will put the bit in your
mouth and start your whipping. If you choose to leave then say so and I will
let you go. This is not a trap of any sort" One minute to make the most
important decision of her life seemed highly unfair. "Ed's probably
thought about this for weeks and I get a minute while stretched out waiting for
a whipping", thought Pooch. She didn't want to get this beating and the
thought of serving Marla all the time was repulsive. Ed was right, things had
become stale, the excitement was gone, replaced by day to day drudgery. Yet she
had no desire to go back to a vanilla lifestyle and she thought that at her age
she didn't have much chance of finding someone to replace Ed, especially
someone she could trust to survive another ten years with. He must also have
something in mind with regards to this punishment session that would leave her
intact. After all she had been Ed's slave for a long time and was still
healthy.
Somehow things will work out. Pooch opened her mouth wide. Ed placed the bit
in her mouth and strapped it in tight pulling back the corners of her mouth
almost to her ears. "I'm glad you decided to stay Pooch, I hope you don't
regret it. Just never forget that this was your choice. Now I think it's
appropriate that I get Marla in here to help celebrate our new beginning".
He walked back and opened the playroom door. Looking back between her spread
legs Pooch could see Marla walk down the steps. She was wearing judges robes
and carrying a bottle of Champaign in one hand and a couple of glasses in the
other. She placed the items down on the box carrying her chair and walked over
to nervous prisoner.
"Well well well, you decided not to leave us. I'm so glad. It's going to be
so much fun training you to respond to my tastes. I'm sure that soon you'll
wish you made the other choice. Ed, why don't you pour us a glass? Too bad that
Pooch's mouth too full to have a drink. I know, pour some Champaign over her
back, that would be even more appropriate".
He poured the Champaign first into the glasses and then onto Pooch, wetting her
from the nape of the neck to the crack of her but. Marla coolly held her glass
in one hand and smeared the spilled bubbly all over the slaves back and ass.
"The strap will make a louder sound she said and it will sting the broken
skin. To the three of us", Marla toasted. "To the three of us" ,
answered Ed. "Just remember how I showed you to swing that thing. Step into
the stroke", reminded Marla. "My God!" thought Pooch, "It
looks like the bitch is going to be calling the tune. I don't need this".
Ed helped Marla up into her chair, had another sip of champagne, put down the
glass and picked up the big boy.
