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“Rex... stop!”
It is a male voice... an authoritative male voice emanating from behind. The well trained canine immediately com
es to a halt. 128 catches her breath, the many short but rapid steps physically grueling. In the tropical heat, she sweats, rivulets streaming. But is it only perspiration wetting her inner thighs?
As 128 turns seeking the source of the command, she spies a man and a woman. Approaching with sjamboks in hand, both are members, always at the ready to discipline a subjugant... though ready to entertain themselves may be a more apropos explanation for conveying the thick and stiff lengths of rawhide covered polymer.
“Ah, it’s 128,” the woman exclaims, noting the large black tattooed numerals. “I’ve read her file. Fascinating, the level of self deprecation. Perfect for a life of servitude at Nusquam.”
The tone is haughty, her accent free diction notable, the woman no doubt well to do and well educated. Reddish brown hair short, nicely groomed, her tall trimmed form, suggesting athleticism, is attired in a loose white blouse and jodhpurs. The knee high boots intimate that she is an equestrienne strolling to the stables.
The man is plain, not short, his height equaling his woman companion. Mustache, finely cut hair,. though casually dressed the nattiness projects an aura of wealth.
“128... I don’t think I’ve taken her,” the tone one of nonchalance.
“You haven’t dear. Least I have not put that in your record book.”
Stepping to confront 128, the woman grasps the leash, tensioning 128’s end to bring instant suffering. She knows of the cunny harness, the dire effect of the slightest pull. When 128 stifles a shriek of pain, the woman laughs.
“Yes 128, you squeal but you’re happy. My nose suggests you’re enjoying your walk... leashed to a dog.”
128 blushes. With normal feminine hygiene long denied, the feminine fragrance of her arousal is strong. Indeed, it is more than sweat which exudes.
“This one has nice tits, John. I’ll be sure to note that for you in your record book.”
The man nods, his eyes assessing, examining 128’s nakedness as one would apprise a prize show animal.
“How long have you served at Nusquam? Speak!” the tone sharp and commanding.
“A few months, sir. I don’t know exactly,” 128 losing all sense of time with the sensory deprivation and brain washing.
“So you’re being opened. What size anal plug?.. the number?”
“Number 6 last night sir.”
“6... that’s perfect. You’ll be easily penetrated but tight. Gladys,” the man turning to his companion, “care to watch... or are you eager to take your ride?”
“Oh, I’d like to toy with her leash while you fanny fuck her. The pain and degradation would make her quite happy... would it not 128?” the leash hand jostling to bring more anguish.
“I... I... don’t know Ma’am.”
“Well... we’ll see,” the woman releasing the leash from Rex’s collar. “There’s a sodomy stanchion right over there,” nodding to one of the ubiquitous threatening wooden frames.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
“So this is how you choose to visit me... whipped and fanny fucked?”
Nurse Traite inquires, her soothing voice bringing comparative calm, noting 128 remains quaking from her ordeal. Bent over, tummy to the smooth horizontal plank of a sodomy stanchion, 128’s hobbling chain was released and her ankles quickly and easily clipped to the bottom of the supporting posts, spreading her most openly. Member Gladys took great glee in controlling the end of her leash, tugging to squeeze the clamps... labia and clitoral hood... assuring quick and humble compliance. Meanwhile member John, pleased to find 128’s anus well lubricated, applied the sjambok, bringing forth howls of agony. Two strokes, right cheek and left.
‘I like a nice warm bottom when butt fucking,’ he insouciantly declared.
128 heard the buzz of a zipper opened in haste. Then member Gladys stepped forward, hands lowering to palm her breasts. She squeezed, smiling with her power.
‘Clever, the design of the cunny harness. You can be taken anally while remaining restrained with your tender pink parts pinched and under control.’
Fingers splayed open her cheeks, the tip a stiff appendage smoothed up and down her crevice, deftly assessing her opening before plunging. There came some pain, more discomfort, but also a sense of surrender as the firm shaft glided inward. John proved to be of modest size, an attribute for which 128 was tempted to offer thanks.
Perhaps the nightly stretching of her sphincter is to be accepted, 128 found herself thinking.
