Chapter 12: Sarai, Mistress of the Kennels

"The disobedience of Sister Cuntrag continued, much to our God's consternation. 'If she continues in her defiance of my will like an ungrateful beast, then I shall treat her like one.' So the Living God placed a collar about her throat, dog ears upon her head, and inserted a butt plug into her rectum adorned with a dog's tail. Then, offering his hand to his Goddess, he walked Sister Cuntrag like a bitch and forced her to perform many humiliating acts. The will of Sister Cuntrag was finally bent to our Gods, and she submitted.

'Make of me your slut, ' she begged, and was transformed from the foul Nun who dared oppose our Gods into Karen, the Holy Slut, by virtue of our Gods' love and compassion."

—Gospel of April 14:34-37
May 21st, 2052 – Sarai Saqqaf – Delhi, District of Southeast Asia

I contemplated my favorite passage of the Gospel of April as I knelt in the Shrine of the Forgiven. The statue of Karen that graced the center of the shrine was sculpted of the finest marble and captured the Holy Slut's beautiful countenance. Every time I stared at it, I remembered our passionate affair that weekend forty-years ago. She was a Nun then, going by the name Sister Louise Afra, and tricked into opposing the Gods.

But they forgave her and named her Karen.

She was the first woman to ever dominate me. She took my maidenhead in the bathroom of Delta airplane flying from Chicago to SeaTac. I had been a stewardess then. Karen taught me to accept that I was a lesbian and forget my misguided, Muslim beliefs.

And then I met Diane at this hot club in my home town of Tacoma, the Clam Diver. She realized what I was, a submissive looking to be dominated, and that afternoon in her apartment, she made me her slave while Via watched.

Diane rose high in the Theocracy. Her friendship with the Goddess granted her the Archdiocese of Southeast Asia. My lover collected other slaves over the years. Special women trained by me to please her. All were bastard daughters of the God Mark. I followed the teachings of the Gospel, and broke each girl to my Mistresses desire.

"Madam," a gentle voice whispered.

I turned to the two kennel slaves kneeling before me. Jordan Smilingfox, cinnamon-skinned and raven black hair, and Akane Mirai, almond eyes and porcelain face, adoringly stared up at me. They were my personal bitches, given to me by Diane out of gratitude of my loyal service. They wore dog collars about their neck; headbands with dog ears on their heads, and butt plugs adorned with dog tails up their asses.

Just like Holy Karen.

"Yes?" I asked, annoyed that they interrupted my devotion.

"Mistress commands your presence at the mansion, Madam," Akane answered.

I petted her hair and she smiled at me, rubbing her cheeks against my thigh. They were my favorite slaves, some of the best I ever trained. I gathered their leashes, and they crawled before me, their cute asses wagging their tails. As we moved through the large Church, worshipers and clergy bowed to me.

Outside, Lily Klerk and Miranda Peck waited with my rickshaw. They were pony girls, horse-tailed butt-plugs shoved up their asses, their hair long, falling down their naked backs. Harnesses covered their bodies, attached to the rickshaw. My bitches helped me into the rickshaw. A riding crop lay coiled on the rickshaw's seat. I grabbed it and snapped the end on my ponies tanned asses.

They giggled, pulling my rickshaw at a jog while my bitches ran alongside. The busy streets cleared for us. The Citizens bowed—only Diane and her servants used a pony girl rickshaw—as we passed. I could tell their professions based on how they dressed: janitors in charcoal coveralls, government workers in gray suits and ties, nurses in red scrubs and doctors in blue. Everyone was happy. It was the Gods Final Commandment: "Find fulfillment and joy in whatever job, spouse, or home the Theocracy selects for you."

The only real choice a person made was sexual slavery. And only the most beautiful young woman or handsome young man was allowed that choice. Sex slaves were the symbol of status. If you worked hard at your job and rose high, you might be allowed to bid on a slave.

My ponies made good time with encouragement from my whip licking their cute asses. They had a nice sheen of sweat on their tanned skin. Both were blonde, their hair lightened by decades in the sun. Along with Hannah, the two girls were Diane's earliest collections.

"You did good," I praised as my bitches unharnessed them. I held up sugar cubes and the pony-girls eagerly licked them off my hand.

"Thank you, Madam," Lily smiled. I gave her a kiss on the lips and allowed my hand to fondle her bottom.

"You two have earned an afternoon of delight," I told them after kissing Miranda. I walked them through the kennel to their cell. They were a breeding pair, and had two daughters that also served as ponies. Mistress allowed Lily to have a cock and she was summoning it the moment the girls were locked in their cell. I wanted to stay and watch the girls make love, but Diane awaited.

Diane was in the study, sitting in her chair. The study had her desk, shelves for books, and one corner was given over to discipline. A spanking bench with straps to hold down an unruly slave sat before a pegboard from which hung a selection of whips, crops, and paddles.

One of the cat-girls licked her feet. The cat-girls were the house-slaves. They wore cute, kitten ears and had cat-tail butt-plug. Their collars had little bells on them that tinkled as they frolicked around the house. They didn't sleep in the kennels, instead the five of them would find a room and sleep in a pile of naked flesh.

Quietly standing in the corner behind Diane's desk was a nervous, coffee-skinned girl. She had thick, curly, black hair that piled about her shoulders. She was naked and looked uncomfortable. I figured her age was seventeen, and she had a nice pair of round, plump tits and a curvy figure.

"There you are, my pet," Diane purred.

I fell to my knees, my two bitches heeling me. "You summoned me, Mistress?"

"Yes, this is Gardenia. My newest slave. I want her trained as a bitch."

"Of course, Mistress." I stood up and walked over to a shelf and found a dog collar and leash. "You are Gardenia?" I asked her, stroking her face.

"Yes," she muttered with a sullen scowl. Diane had a knack for finding girls that were less than enthusiastic about becoming slaves.

"Yes, Madam," I corrected. "Fail to address me properly, and you shall be disciplined. Fail to obey my commands promptly, and you shall be disciplined. Fail to perform satisfactory, you shall be disciplined."

"Yeah, uh, Madam."

I thrust the collar at her. "From now on you are a bitch, and bitches wear their collars at all times."

She eyed it, then blinked at me stupidly.

"Put the collar on, Gardenia!"

She shook her head. I could feel Diane's eyes on us. "Bitches," I snapped. Jordan and Akane gracefully rose and grabbed the girl.

"Let me go," she shouted, struggling in my bitches grasp.

They hauled the struggling girl, her breasts bouncing nicely. My bitches were strong, they exercised daily, and they easily dragged her to the spanking bench and bent her over the hard wood. Gardenia yelled and spat as they pulled her arms into the leather cuffs attached to the benches legs, then strapped her knees to the other side, spreading her wide open and giving me a good look at the tangled, black bush between her thighs.

"The paddle," Diane ordered. "Twenty spanks."

I glanced over and the cat-girl, Annie, had buried her face between Diane's thighs, busily working her tongue through Diane's pussy. Mistress loved watching a disobedient slave be disciplined. I selected an oak paddle, stained dark with holes drilled in the wood. I gave it a swing, the air whistling through the holes.

Perfect. I moved to the disobedient slut and swung.

Crack!

"Holy shit!" Gardenia gasped.

"Wrong!" I barked. "What do bitches say?"

"I don't know," the slave wailed.

Akane licked Gardenia's face and whispered in her ear, "You should have said, 'Thank you, Madam, this bitch needs nineteen more spankings.' You count down, okay."

Smack! Gardenia's dark bottom was tinged red.

"Thank you Madam, this b-bi..." She snarled her tongue around the word.

"You can do it," encouraged Jordan sweetly, licking her lips. "Just admit what you are ... a bitch!"

Like good cop-bad cop from TV shows and movies, I was the harsh mistress and Jordon and Akane the gentle slaves.

Spank!

"Thank you, Madam. This b-bitch needs seventeen more spankings," she sobbed. "Wrong!" I smacked her ass with my bare hand. Her right asscheek glowed red. "You start the count at the beginning. You don't get to skip ahead."

Crack!

"Thank you, Madam," Gardenia spat out quickly. "This bitch needs nineteen more spankings."

"Good job," Akane murmured.

I switched to her left cheek, landing a nice blow. "Thank you, Madam!" she gasped. "This bitch needs ... uh ... eighteen more spankings!"

My paddle whistled then cracked on her ass. Her cheeks jiggled and her hips wiggled as she strained against the bonds. Gardenia sobbed her count, and I glanced at Diane. She had a handful of Annie's fiery hair and ground the slave's face into her cunt, sighing softly. My own pussy was releasing a flood of juices down my thighs.