Chapter 55: Pet Martha

by Kathy R.

The car pulled to a stop and the hood of the trunk flew open. Martha, upon being helped from the cramped area, fell to the ground, still slippery from the pig-chase game.

"First thing for you, pet, is a bath and uh... ?" He paused, interrupting himself to look the black woman up and down. "Aren't you supposed to be on your knees?"

Martha quickly dropped to the ground and immediately felt pebbles digging into her palms and knees. "Yes, Master, forgive me for forgetting myself."

He looked down, nodding in approval but didn't say a word about forgiveness. He headed to the house, a dark foreboding looking place that, during the day, Martha hoped would be more welcoming. She followed obediently, never giving him cause to tug on the leash. The prongs still caused her tender skin to tickle, but the need to scratch was gone, as long as she kept moving.

Once in the house, they came to a halt in the bathroom. "Get in the tub, pet." Martha began to rise to her feet, in preparation to manoeuvre over the cool porcelain wall of the tub. "No, pet, stay down on all fours and crawl into the tub that way." Martha did as ordered, not wanting to upset this man. Once in the tub, he began to run the water -- first the hot, then the cold -- adjusting them until the water ran almost too hot to bear. She stood where she was, as the man turned a centre knob, redirecting the water to splash out of the shower head, well above her body.

Martha whimpered as some of the water cascaded down her head and into her eyes. "Be quiet, pet. This will only take a minute."

With eyes closed tightly, she now felt a stiff brush on her back. The man, her master for the night, bathed her, none too roughly and over every inch of her body.

"Spread your rear legs, pet." Martha did as commanded and felt the sharp, stiff bristles of the brush scrape across her pussy lips. Martha cried out, in shock and in pleasure, only to receive a sudden blow on the ass with the back of the brush.

"Another outburst like that will see you being ignored the rest of the evening." Martha held still and kept her eyes and mouth clamped shut.

"Very good, pet." Martha wondered what he was referring to, but knew better than to talk. "Yes, my good pet, jump in."

'Jump in... ?' A large shaggy body plopped hard behind her in the bathtub. Martha automatically moved forward to make room for this new arrival. She still didn't open her eyes though. She didn't want to see who or what, her new companion was.

"Up, boy." And Martha, not able to follow her master's commands any longer, let loose with a string of curse words and screams as a male dog climbed onto her back and inserted his cock into her wet vagina. The dog, catching on to her protests, bit her shoulder, letting her know who was in charge. Martha screamed again, following this up with another stream of curses. "You God damn, mother-fucking, #^@$#%@^, $^%*^&#$,..."

To the amazement of the man, the curse words just got worse and worse; something he didn't know was possible -- until now. He brought the brush down onto the nearest cheek of Martha's backside, taking care not to interfere with the dog's fun. "Quiet, pet."

Martha clammed up, trying desperately not to cry out again. The dog fucked her until she felt the infamous ring enter her vagina. She couldn't help it, she was never one to enjoy being mated with an animal and this, as usual, proved to be too much for her -- and she screamed.

She looked about her, the chill of the dungeon worked its way deep into her bones. She would have thought that by now, all her shivering would have dried the remaining moisture from her body, but it didn't. She'd been down here for close to an hour now, according to her figuring. Of course, she really had no way to figure out time, so it was more of a guess -- an educated one, she hoped.

As threatened, she was to be ignored the rest of the night. She did wonder what he had planned for her, if things hadn't gone so wrong. 'Alas, ' she thought to herself, 'dogs are not her style. Never were. Never will be.'

She laid on the floor, the gag firmly in place. She was thankful that it wasn't a ball gag and that he opted to just use a strip of cloth to block off any sound. She knew with the ball gag, she'd be drooling uncontrollably by now -- with the cloth, her drool was absorbed and she could swallow some of it -- preventing thirst from setting in. The metal cuffs on her ankles and wrists, she could have done without. They were heavy, cutting into her skin. He placed them on extra tight, saying that this made up for the use of the cloth gag. Martha wasn't sure it was a fair exchange, but she wasn't about to argue the point. The choke collar was still on her neck, getting extremely uncomfortable with its spikes. She also had an odd plug inserted into her anus.

This was the peculiar part of her bondage. She was to be ignored, and she could handle that -- having lived for so long on her own; but it was the oddity of the plug that she couldn't handle. She had watched, as best as she could, as he looked it over, as if studying it, before inserting it into her rear passageway.

Oh, how she had wanted to ask him about it, but wanting to be a good submissive for this man, she remained silent. She did manage to figure out, from feel and what little viewing of it she got, that it was definitely hooked into her rear side. She tried to picture it, in her mind, to comprehend its purpose. From sight and touch, she knew it to be metal and looked like any other bullet-style vibrator, but with one exception. This one had small slits in the side, she saw two, but thought maybe there were more.

As soon as the man shoved it inside her, she heard a small clicking sound and felt an odd rotation inside her. There was also a cord that extended from the plug to the wall behind her. That part was understandable -- electric currents would be used.

She recalled, how he'd purposefully stepped back from her position -- still on all fours. He had a small silver box in his hand and a couple of buttons and a knob. He watched her face intently, as he punched one button and turned the knob sharply. Martha lunged forward, not from the shock of the electricity that shot up into her backside, but from the pain of whatever it was that was hidden in those small slits. She felt a tear escape the corner of her eye as she felt a tiny slice deep inside her. A bullet-style plug -- with blades?

The injured woman looked up at the man, she'd thought of as kind and gentler earlier this evening. The man her nursed her back from her near brush with suffocation was now causing her a new pain -- one she wasn't sure she could tolerate for very long. She looked up at him, her dark brown eyes meeting his and pleaded to him, with her eyes, for him to stop. To please stop the pain.