Chapter 78

November 30th, Saturday Morning 2047

We had been begrudgingly allowed to remove our chastity belts that morning, so that Laura could test out the new chair. She was curious how it worked. I was happy because mine was riding up my ass/crushing my clit. I don’t think that Laura even realized how excruciating it was and hadn’t meant it to torment me.

My son Dewey was supposed to take me to his girlfriend’s house later that morning – he had been gifted me for two days straight. My sister was overjoyed to be rid of me for two days, and even asked if he could take Julie. However, Jim wanted her home so she could cook and clean while I was gone.

That morning, Laura asked Jim to put Julie in my electric chair – strapped to the dildo, the electric shockers and the goat milker. “Piggy can handle it but can this little bitch?”

Laura said she just wanted to try it out – and see if it straightened my daughter out. “Maybe she won’t be so flippant about promising to be a house slut. At the very least, she will stop making impudent faces whenever I give her an order!”

I had seen the defiant faces myself. Julie is not a natural submissive. She’s bright, articulate and empowered and her entire reason for serving was more out of curiosity and to challenge herself to endure something she considered a limit before the Program.

There was a time when she was heavily drinking the protein shake before she quit altogether, that she seemed to just be into doing this because she got her rocks off this way. However, she had returned to the same smart, intelligent girl that she normally was.

Anytime the boys teased her, or Laura patronized her, Julie couldn’t help the subtle tones in her body language that showed she thought she was better than them – above the ridicule. The boys either didn’t care or didn’t notice, but Laura is a woman -and she definitely noticed and didn’t appreciate it.

Piggy can handle it, but can this little bitch?” Begrudgingly, Jim strapped Julie into my torture chair. I told Julie that while it would hurt and sizzle, she and I both deserved it. She didn’t find my reassurances comforting. Over the next 20 minutes, Dewey and Reese watched, fascinated, as if Julie was being killed in an electrocution chair in some 20th Century state prison. Laura seemed indifferent to Julie’s twisting and writhing, but I would say that she genuinely enjoyed it, or she would have put a stop to it.

Dewey and Reese were fascinated watching their sister twist, and jerk – it was almost like an authentic electrocution chair they used to use back before public executions for high crimes were banned in the United States. Interestingly, game shows were created where contestants voluntarily sat in these contraptions to win money about the same time that the public executions were banned.

“That’s what you call sitting on an electric dildo and getting shocked? I bet you regret being born a little whore?” Laura laughed. “You probably don’t want to sit in this contraption again, do you Snout Pocket?”

“I would if my Daddy, Reese, or Dewey wanted to see me get shocked, Ma’am. I wouldn’t like it,” Julie was sweating, clearly disheveled – I could smell her pussy getting zapped lightly. She wasn’t roasting and burning, but the electric arc makes a pretty blue spark when it flicks on her pussy lips.

“Would you do it if I told you to do it?” Laura asked sweetly – like little Red Riding Hood’s grandma, just before revealing she’s a wolf.

Julie looked at her Dad for clarification – not wanting to volunteer to be Laura’s science experiment as I had.

Jim pointed out that he had put a button on his daughter’s collar to shock her if Laura wanted to punish her, and he didn’t give Laura permission to put her in the chair anytime she liked.

“That barely does anything. She laughed about it,” Laura pressed a clicker on her key fob, and Julie made a funny face and then smiled.

“The chair should only be used for SERIOUS punishment, and from now on never on Piggy until after she gives birth,” Jim decided.

I was thrilled – that meant that I’d be going back to my current role as house pet even after I gave birth. I forgot what was decided about that when they asked me to continue in the Program earlier.

“Let’s just leave it at setting two for today. I think it takes only one quick press of the button. I’ll fool with it later and add a circuit breaker so that it has to be reset between presses. Abner doesn’t know his ass from a hole in the ground when it comes to electrical. If I asked him to adjust it, he’d probably electrocute himself and take six months to do it,” Jim said. He explained there were ten settings of intensity and Julie had been at a two earlier. He unstrapped Julie, pinched her titty and helped her down.

“Thank you, Daddy,” Julie replied politely as we set the table and poured everyone’s drinks.

“Why should Piggy get special privileges just because she is carrying another man’s baby?” Laura seemed to want me to fry on the chair. I have to admit – I got a thrill out of pain, but the electric chair was truly torture and felt like real punishment.

“That’s up to Julie, and I believe an electric shock can’t be good for the baby,” Jim said.

“Well, I need some way to punish Piggy because nothing I do or say seems to matter to her. She just looks at me with her dumb little expression, smiles, and nods.” Laura turned to me, patted me on the head and asked, “Don’t you dummy?”

“Yes, Mommy! I do. I know that’s annoying! Sorry!”

“I could fart in her mouth, and she’d tell me that she liked it, Jim. Your wife is insufferable!” Laura complained about me for not complaining enough about her punishments and humiliations that she heaped upon me.

“I’ll try not to enjoy it so much, Ma’am,” I said – knowing that Laura wouldn’t like that. She grimaced and ignored me.

“There are lots of ways to punish, Piggy! You’ll probably find most of them perverted,” Jim suggested.

“Like what?” Laura asked. Jim had a hard time coming up with an actual punishment for me. He made a few suggestions, and Reese and Dewey, both told him that I enjoyed those as well – I did. I nodded and said that as long as they thought it was funny, it was fine with me.

“What would you consider a punishment, Piggy?” Jim finally asked.

“I don’t like having beans poured down my asshole and then being forced to eat them,” I said. I thought back to being at the Gibbons’ house. Jim had never seen that, so he thought I was just being random, and Laura was horrified.

“Yeah, but we do it to you every time we are there,” Reese reminded me; that was originally for Crystal only, but eventually, they made me eat like that – usually everything I ate at their house went in my ass, or another woman’s ass.

“True, when you put toothpaste on my asshole, pussy, and lips, and bind my arms and make me dance, that’s kind of irritating,” I shrugged. It wasn’t a punishment, and they did it to me almost daily, sometimes while I was getting an enema. “The mouse trap on my tits and tongue really hurt too!”

Laura laughed at my pain – which made me feel a tinge of embarrassment.

“When you piss in my funnel and choke me, is that a punishment for something I did wrong or something you just like doing?” I asked. The boys said that I rarely ever did anything to deserve punishment. I assumed that meant they just felt like pissing down my throat and using me like a urinal.

“You could piss all over my food and make me eat poop all day, that would be a punishment,” I suggested to Laura sweetly. I had rimmed dirty assholes and cleaned poop stains in the toilet with my mouth – it seemed like a natural progression to make me into a poo-eater. I was certain that would genuinely make me feel disgust and shame and be a genuine punishment. I hadn’t eaten poop as a general rule of thumb – just a little bit off of dirty cocks. However, I was wiling to try.

I loved most punishments that I received and felt guilty that I had to pretend I didn’t like them – most felt like the person felt sorry for me. I considered myself a filthy pig who needed constant discipline – so why spare me some suffering? Especially if Laura enjoyed degrading me. I just hoped I wouldn’t learn to love being a shit-eater too.

“I am not going to piss or poop in your food!” Laura grew hostile – thinking I was just being rude and outrageous.

“The boys could, or I could; I’ve done it a little, but never for 24 full hours; I think that would be a reasonable punishment,” I thought out loud. If Laura was asking me for honesty, I’d give it to her. I was trying to think of the worst, most degrading things I could do that would be more than just unpleasant. I’d probably wretch and throw up.

“You could make me sit in ants and let them bite the snot out of me for about thirty seconds.”

“You’d sit in ants?” Laura asked -once again in disbelief. The rest of the family had heard me talk about this before and we’d experimented with it a little.

I pointed out that, at times, the guys used to make me stick my hand or feet in ants, but I wasn’t sure if that was a punishment or just a consequence of losing the games we played.

My sister didn’t say anything.

“You could put me back outside overnight and leave me outside for 24 hours; that would probably be scary to be caged on the lawn,” I suggested. Laura told me to continue – she seemed to like that idea. I knew that she would. Anything that moved me out of the house and away from Jim thrilled her.

“You could kick me or punch my boobs,” I said.

“You are pregnant, Piggy!” Jim reminded me.

Laura pointed her finger up in the air like I had made a good suggestion. She finished what she was eating and told me that she heard about how I kicked our father. “Yes, you deserve to be kicked. He is an old man, and you kicked him right in the nuts, Piggy! Your husband is right though – the baby doesn’t deserve that.

“I still feel guilty about kicking our Dad, Mommy. Mom requested it, and he seemed to enjoy it. If you can kick hard, then that would probably be a good punishment.”

It sounded bizarre to call my sister “Mommy” and mention my actual Mom in the same comment.

Laura wanted me to stand how my father stood. “I won’t kick you anywhere near the baby. How many did you give him?”

“I don’t know. He asked me to keep doing it for five minutes, so I lost count.”

Laura kicked me hard with the flat of her foot on my pussy. She was wearing sandals. I put my hands behind my head and admitted that I kicked him much harder.

My sister kicked me as hard as she could. It hurt, and I am sure I got wet because I heard her foot slap my pussy and make a squishing sound. Laura scrunched her nose in disgust and gave me 10 kicks before tiring out.

“Is that all, Mommy?” I could have taken several more. Getting spanked and having rough sex for money had toughened me up quite a bit.

“You haven’t done enough yet today, and I don’t want to ruin you for Dewey’s big day! I hope that stings!” Laura pretended that I got off easy because she was being merciful and not because she hurt her foot on my wet pussy.

“It does,” I admitted and returned to serving her some of the hot food that I had made. She complained that it was cold, and I offered to reheat it, but she told me that was fine and that she didn’t like my cooking anyway.

“No wonder you have a fat-ass; you make nothing but unhealthy southern food!” Laura complained.

“If you want other food, I am happy to accommodate it like I do with the special rye toast and juices,” I reminded her that I had all her family’s special orders accounted for.

“She’s such a passive-aggressive little cunt, how can you stand her?” Laura asked my husband rhetorically before covering her mouth because she cussed and asked to excuse her French.

After breakfast, Reese and Dewey drove me over to the Karlson’s house without Julie. It was one of those rare times I was apart from my daughter. I felt terrible for her because I knew Laura would be on the warpath while Julie was home by herself, and my daughter would have to take most of the wrath.

Dewey was nude, and he brought his new light-up butt plug, an overnight bag with some stuff, a handheld gaming device, and his cell phone and wore his cock cage.

Reese wanted to come in, but Dewey insisted it was my day with him. He took me by the lead and instructed me to hold my ass cheeks apart as I followed him to their house. It was still reasonably early – I did as I was told.

I learned very quickly that “Grattis på födelsedagen” means Happy Birthday in Swedish. The whole family was up, naked, and excited to see us. They were in a very celebratory mood and had a special breakfast waiting for Dewey. However, he had already eaten.

“What about for Piggy?” they asked – if I could eat the same food they had in the morning. It felt wrong to be invited to have normal human food – like I didn’t deserve it and they didn’t understand who/what I was.

Dewey told me that I could have some food. I was very grateful that my son was so considerate.

“I am not permitted to have fresh food, normally, Master. If you want me to eat? I will,” I thanked him.

“It’s up to you,” Dewey shrugged. I wasn’t used to making choices any longer – it felt wrong, strange!

I politely ate some food and thanked him for the privilege – squatting on the floor without being told. It tasted great – actual, warm food.

The Karlson family had some gifts for Dewey. They wrapped them up and presented them. They mainly were things he might actually want. Video games, nerdy stuff, a special Rubik’s cube, and even some sex toys from some of the girls. Dewey was thrilled with his stuff.

“We also have some things for your Mamma. Is that alright?” Helena asked Dewey. Naturally, he agreed. I thanked her and said that was unnecessary. I considered myself more like property now – all of my things had been thrown out or were still in Jim and Laura’s bedroom. Even my car was no longer mine. It was somewhat liberating not to have “stuff” of my own.

“Oh, this is more present for us than for you, I assure you,” she said. She asked if I brought the canine dildo that she got me for my birthday. I noted that Dewey didn’t bring anything for me except my massive butt plug, which I wore.

“That is such a big appliance,” Helena looked over at her daughter, Cookie. The pretty Swedish girl was wearing hers as well. It forced her ass cheeks apart and made her pussy dilate. Cookie nodded. It was sad to see such a pretty young girl getting stretched out like me. She should remain tight for guys to enjoy her ass more.

I felt like my plug was transforming and stretching my ass out permanently to be the subject of ridicule – no one considered it sexy. Most people thought of it like an oddity or an extreme plug and usually laughed. They especially thought it was funny that my asshole gape would not close when the plug came out – leaving an almost cavern like opening into my bowels for anyone to have a look.

“I hope you like the outfit,” Helena had me unwrap an actual package. I was flattered she went to the effort, and I didn’t want to remind her that I had to be naked. I didn’t want to seem ungrateful.

Helena gifted some dog ears to me, a rubberized dog tail butt plug, and some paw pad gloves that made actual doggy footprints in the dirt. They looked like they wouldn’t fit my hands. She also had some matching knee pads that did the same thing. They were much less cumbersome than the Roofer knee pads Jim bought for me. These were designed for actual puppy roleplaying. I didn’t know that was an actual Fetish.

However, I was about to get an education in it because Helena dressed me up in the kitchen. She painted my nose brown, replaced my butt plug with the tail, and washed it off in the sink. She attached a leash to my collar and the dog ears.

Removing the plug left me with a strange sensation – the tail felt so much smaller than the giant plug stretching me out. I had to squeeze my sphincter tight to keep it from falling out.

“Almost finished!” she admired me with a lusty expression.

First, she slipped the knee pads on me. They were light and easy to slide on. Helena wrapped duct tape around my thighs and calves so that I could not stand up. Then she did the same to my forearm and upper arm so that I had to rest my upper body on my elbows. She attached what I assumed were gloves to my elbows and tied them so that they wouldn’t slide off.

“Bra!” she clapped, and her husband seemed amused. Her entire family thought it was funny, and so did Dewey. I assumed that was it. They even had a dog nose-shaped gag to strap to my head and make me wear.

“Do you mind if I take your Mamma for a walk while you play with the others?”

About that time, Brunna walked downstairs as a ponygirl. Her hair was braided with ribbons, she had a much longer ponytail sticking out of her ass, and it looked like it was made of her own hair. She had cute clips on her nipples and a harness around her body.

“Your pony has arrived,” Helena smiled.

Dewey was more than happy to trade me for Brunna and took her outside to make her pony step and train her.

Meanwhile, Helena walked me with her other dogs down her street. She lived in a much nicer neighborhood than we did. The lawns were freshly manicured, and they had only one type of grass instead of the weeds and patches of different kinds of grass we had. It wasn’t as posh as the mansion that Tiffany and her mother lived in, but it was pretty nice.

She was clearly showing me off to neighbors and proudly walking me down the street. I found it much easier to walk on my elbows once I got the hang of it. The pads made it much easier than I thought it would.

I couldn’t speak, but Helena would tell me that I was being a good girl and speak to me in Swedish. I sniffed flowers and wiggled my butt like I did for the boys when they walked me. They hadn’t done that in a while.

Helena saw a friend. She was an attractive woman with short blonde hair that reminded me of C.R. She looked stuck up. She and the woman maintained a conversation as if I were a real dog and didn’t include me. They barely even spoke about me.