Chapter 5: The First Weekend

Coach Wagner, recent college graduate, age 22

Cindy Spanner, 37, Peaches, Akita: Stacey 16
Mary Johnson, 35, Cricket, Water Spaniel: Megan 15
Kathy Woods, 34, Baby Girl, Yellow Retriever: Angie 14
Barbara Lane, 34, Foofu, Border Terrier: Zoe 14
Maggie Hart, 33, Coco, Irish Setter: Karen, 14

The first weekend:

Here it is, Sunday evening and I’m standing in Angie’s walk-in closet with my neck tied to the clothes bar with red yarn. My ankles weren’t secured and my wrists weren’t handcuffed behind me. I am standing here with my chin above the bar, with my arms at my sides and my feet together, the yarn wound tightly around the bar and my neck so I couldn’t move.

I am ashamed and embarrassed, but not because I’m neck tied in her closet. I am ashamed and embarrassed that after four days of training, Angie trusts me enough not to secure my wrist and ankles; after all, I am supposed to be responsible. But now that I think about it, I am also secretly excited that after four days of training that I allow my daughter to touch me and humiliate me in ways that I would have never thought of. Which is why, I guess, my cunt is so wet and I can feel cunt cream coating my inner thighs.

As I think back over the weekend I’m like a woman who wakes up with a massive hangover in the morning after a night of drinking, not realizing how she got home or what she did, but knowing she did stupid things in front of her friends and strangers. She lays in her bed suffering through the hangover, not wanting to remember the embarrassing things she did last night, hoping to avoid her friends for a couple of days, hoping that somehow it will all blow over. That’s the way I feel now. Things we did during team practices this weekend, like fetching tennis balls, barking like dogs, eating and drinking out of dog bowls.

I shift my weight back and forth trying to find a proper stance, keeping my arms at my side. It’s a real struggle not to reach up and untie the yarn and tell Angie that I have had enough. But Angie is upset with me because I had gotten upset at Bill. She explained that it was my fault for the predicament that I was in and that she had great faith and trust in my ability to handle my punishment without tying my wrists and ankles together. That had stopped me for a moment; my anger at Bill had subsided as I realized that my daughter was proud of me. Well, he’s still a bastard!

It started Saturday morning when he announced to Angie that he was going to the office for most of the day. I was upstairs holding my morning pee and poop waiting for him to leave so I could go to the backyard and take care of business. He’s never been to the office on a weekend, ever, and I wondered what was up. Angie and her father were laughing and talking in the kitchen and I was jealous so I returned to Angie’s bedroom and stood there. I guess I could have sat on the bed, but Angie did say the other day that sitting on the furniture was off limits to me, plus I didn’t want to get punished.

After what seemed like an hour, Bill finally went out to the garage and I could hear it opening. Angie came up the stairs.

“Here, pet, come on girl!” she yelled out, slapping her thigh.

I still hated the word “pet” and “dog” but this was all in the spirit of the competition so I tolerated it. I walked out to the hallway.

“Oh good, there you are!” Angie cooed. Her saying that sounded so corny to me. “Daddy said that he would return later this afternoon. We have a lot of training to do today and tomorrow.”

I nodded, I was learning that a good mother is a quiet mother.

“You can speak. Do you have to go pottie?”

“Yes, mistress,” I remembered to say. She wanted to hear the word “mistress” when I addressed her which didn’t bother me too much, but being asked if I had to go pottie like I was some child, now that burned me. Burned and strangely aroused me.

“Good, but first you have to put your uniform on. My pet must be properly attired when she goes poop and pee outside!” Angie smiled as she walked down the hallway towards the bathroom.

I shrugged my shoulders and walked back into her bedroom where my “uniform” was. It wasn’t much of a uniform really: two knee pads that looked like dog paws; two arm sleeves that came up to my elbow and had dog paws that my hands fitted into; two straps for my legs so that my ankles could be clipped to my thighs; and my tail that we were issued yesterday and which was actually made out of my hair. In addition to all this, there was my dog collar and leash, and the two mouth pieces that keep my mouth open like a dog’s so I could slobber properly. That was my uniform.

It took me a good ten minutes to get everything on, but the tail was more difficult, I still hadn’t managed to figure out how to slide that damn thing into my ass. Fuck! I had my mouth pieces in so I couldn’t even pick-up my tail with my mouth. I sat back and pondered my situation. I sure as hell didn’t want to get punished this early in the day.

I picked up my tail as best I could and slipped it between my thighs. I figured that as I crawled down the hallway on my hands and knees it should stay as long as I didn’t move my thighs apart. I crawled into the hallway looking for Angie. With my mouth pieces in, I was slobbering and by the time I got to the bathroom, the hair on my tail was tickling my crotch.

No, I thought, crotch wasn’t the right word: Angie wanted me to use the word cunt. I had resisted at first, but now it made me wet. I was suddenly aware, there in the hallway, dressed obscenely like a slobbering dog, how much my training was changing me. I had agreed to help her try and win the Puppy Girl Competition, was willing to put up with the dreadful humiliation because she was my daughter and I loved her. But now I felt the stirrings of something else inside me, something that battled against my regular self. I realised that it had awakened a deeper need, something darker: that a part of me wanted to degrade myself for her; that humiliating myself for her aroused me; that I wanted to be her pet, her bitch, her cunt.

Angie was sitting on the toilet and she smiled as I crawled into the bathroom.

“Sit!” she ordered, pointing her index finger at me. “Can’t get your tail into your rear-end?”

I did a throaty bark, “Arf!” and my face burned red. When in uniform I was supposed to respond like a dog.

I quickly sat back on my toes and tucked my wrists under my breasts; no, tits, another word that my daughter wanted me to use. I must have looked stupid because my slobber was dripping on my tits just as intended, and my tail dropped down on the floor.

“Come here and turn around,” Angie said gently. She leaned over off the toilet seat and reached for my tail. I realised at once what she was going to do, and my cunt oozed in anticipation. I turned around with my rear-end facing her.

“Hold still!” she ordered as she grabbed my waist with her left hand. I heard her collect spit in her mouth and then I felt a delicious, warm wetness on my anus as she has spat on it. Next I felt the slim shoe horn end touch against the ring of the muscle, and then slip slowly inside.

Ah fuck! It hurt, stretching me. Angie spat again and worked the tail deeper into me. After a minute or so of me squirming on my hands and knees and Angie working the end of my tail into me, I felt the shoe horn part slip snugly into my anus. It actually felt quite good. The flat smooth part of the horn actually seemed like it was part of my ass muscles and when I flexed my anus, it sent a thrill through me.

I heard pee splash into the toilet bowl and my heart rate went up and a shot of adrenaline coursed through my stomach. Hearing her pee splash into the toilet bowl is like music to my ears, especially hers. I looked at her, my face flushed as she pushed out her pee.

“I want you to go out and come back in wagging your tail looking like you’re pleased to see me!”

I blushed a little knowing that she saw my excitement at hearing her pee splash into the toilet bowl.

I went out to the hallway, took a deep breath, wagged my tail and went back into the bathroom. I bounded up to her. I was wagging my tail back and forth, and my tits were swinging back and forth in tune with my ass muscles. Angie reached out with both hands and cupped me behind the ears and scratched me.

“Good girl. You’re such a good doggie for her mistress.” I wagged my tail back and forth and slobber dripped out of my mouth. “Each time you’re in your uniform with your tail on you must be completely happy to see me. I want to see enthusiasm in your movements. Just like a dog will show affection for its mistress, you must show me real affection. And if you don’t show me or the other mistresses proper affection and enthusiasm when in uniform, well, let’s not think about that.”

I wagged my tail some more even though my ass cheeks were hurting and she was right, I didn’t want to get punished for not being affectionate enough.

For a moment, I heard her breath stop, and then she grunted quietly; a turd plopped into the toilet bowl. Fuck I wanted to look into the toilet so badly. I breathed in deeply, trying to catch her dark aroma.

Angie sat back on the toilet then reached over and picked up her mobile device. It had beeped at her. She looked at the screen and smiled then looked at me.

“Did you want to go to the mall today? Because the Intercourse high school varsity girls hanging team is putting on an exhibition. They’re gonna show the synchronized air dance, plus they’re gonna talk to the mothers and daughters about how to get started in the joys of hanging.”

“Arf!” I replied and wagged my tail.

Fuck, yes, I wanted to go to something like that! Watching a woman struggle at the end of a noose, while a girl controlled the ultimate act of life and death excited me no end. I eagerly wagged my tail some more. The tail seemed to have settled into me, and I felt sensations of pleasure in my rectum when it moved back and forth.

“Good, I thought you might want to go. I know it turns you on.” She paused. “It turns me on also.” She blushed a little when she said that which was cute. I wondered if it was a slip of the tongue, if she hadn’t meant me to know that, but I was slowly finding out over the past week what turned Angie on.

Angie stood up without wiping her anus of her poop smear and as she walked past me, I could just faintly smell her rear-end.

I had a sudden, crazy image of me as a dog, running up behind her, sticking my wet nose between her little cheeks, and sniffing, licking ... Fuck, perhaps all this training was working better than I thought. I took a quick look in the toilet bowl: a lovely turd floated in the yellow water, smooth and elegantly proportioned. Gawd, how I wanted to taste the water, I thought, and then gasped, shocked at myself. Was that what I really wanted, to taste fowled toilet water? I know I had fantasised about it for a long time, masturbated thinking about it, but now it suddenly seemed more real, more possible. I felt moisture seeping from my cunt, and blushed.

Suddenly, I felt a familiar feeling in my own bowels and it occurred to me that it had been some days since I last used the toilet. As if she had read my mind, Angie called to me.

“Come on, Baby Girl, let’s go poopie!”

I frowned and shrugged my shoulders. She didn’t have to put it like that did she?

I trotted out to the hallway and down the stairs. Angie was in the kitchen as I came bounding in, wagging my tail, slobber dripping from my mouth. She was wearing a one-piece denim dress that had a “V” neck down to her belly button. I could just make out her small budding breasts under the material. The denim dress came to mid-thigh. I know she wasn’t wearing any panties because she didn’t have any on when she left the bathroom.

I sat back on my toes with my wrists tucked under my breasts in front of her with an eager look on my face. “Good dog, now do your business,” she smiled as she opened the kitchen door to the backyard.

I bounded outside as she closed the door behind me. I looked around the yard deciding where to go, so I crawled over to the far end and sat back spreading my legs. I pushed a little and my pee started and then I felt my poop sliding down to my anus. I grunted again and pushed.

A crazy thought crossed my mind. I hope my pee doesn’t kill the grass like a real dogs’ pee. I don’t think Bill would like brown spots on his carefully manicured grass. Fuck him! Oops, where’d that come from? I looked towards the house, automatically, but the only person there was Angie. She was watching me through the kitchen window, her glazed eyes looking not at my face but at my squatting butt.

I looked away and pushed some more, knowing that her eyes were still on me, and felt the poop oozing slowly out. Part of me felt humiliated, horrified that she was watching, but I recognized that look on her face and I felt a jolt of excitement run through me.

Suddenly, a noise to my right caught my attention and my sphincter clamped up with fear creeping into my stomach. I looked at the fence and a shadow crossed by on the other side. My God, I thought, what am I coming to? I’m squatting with my thighs spread next to the fence line, and there are some holes in the fence! It could be my neighbour! Just then a nose, a dog’s nose, poked through one of the holes.

Oh fuck! It’s that fucking Great Dane! I could see the nose of the Dane working back and forth trying to pick-up whatever scent was in the air. I relaxed a little when I realized that the dog couldn’t get into the yard.

I went back to pushing my poop out. I felt four long pieces drop from my rear-end and then the last of my pee dripped from my cunt. I glanced quickly at the kitchen window to see Angie still watching, her position unchanged. I looked behind me at the neat pile of little rolls of poop and then over at the fence again; the nose was pushed a little further through the hole and I could hear the dog sniffing loudly. Fuck you, you stupid dog! I thought to myself, you aren’t getting in here! You can abuse those bitches out there all you want, but you’re not getting in here.

It was then I realised that I had nothing to wipe with, and I immediately thought, wondered if I’m smeared, again, humiliation washed over me.

I heard the sliding door open and saw Angie standing on the porch in her bare feet bouncing one of the tennis balls. She was also holding a rolled up newspaper.

“Come here, Baby Girl, come on girl!” she smiled and gushed as she bent over at the waist and called me. I bounded over to her, wagging my tail back and forth and trying to put a smile on my face, but it wasn’t easy with those damn mouth pieces in.

“Good doggie, that’s my girl!” She reached into my mouth and pulled out the two mouth pieces. It took me a moment or two to realise that they had gone and that the ache in my jaw had stopped, because her fingers distracted me. It wasn’t that she had put them in my mouth, but the taste that lingered on them: the taste of her cunt.

“We’re going to practice a little fetch,” she said as she threw the ball to the far side of the yard. Trying to clear my head, I turned and scampered into the yard after it.

Angie yelled, “Stay!”

Oh shit, God damn it, I fucked up.

Angie leaned over and swatted my ass with the rolled up newspaper. “Bad dog! Bad, bad, doggie!” she said and swatted me again. I flexed my ass cheeks and my tail dropped between my legs. I moved my rear-end like a dog as I tried to dodge the newspaper.

“Damn it Baby Girl, you don’t move until I give you the command,” she said as she swatted my ass again. “Do you understand?”

“Arf!” I responded with my head hung low. How could I be so stupid as to mess up a simple thing like playing fetch with my daughter.

“You’re supposed to mark the ball where it drops, that means you watch where it goes, then you wait for my command!” Angie said as she looked down at me with her hands on her hips. “Now kiss the newspaper and remember that it is not me or this stupid old newspaper that has caused you pain, but your stupidity for not following directions.”

I leaned forward and planted a kiss on the newspaper. There was shame and humiliation all over that kiss; fuck, there was shame and humiliation being on my hands and knees in front of my daughter.

Angie squatted down in front of me. She scratched behind my ears and ran her fingers through my hair. As she was squatting her short denim dress rode up her thighs and I purposely hung my head low just so I could see between her thighs. Oh damn, there it was, the object of my incestuous desires, her lovely hairless cunt. I squinted my eyes so I could see just a hint of moisture and dew on her lips. It made my heart race, knowing she was excited by this. I felt my own excitement rising, but then I was reminded by the clit clamp on my cunt; the more excited I got the more vibration the clamp worked on my clit.

I looked up at her face and saw she was looking at me, knowing what I had been looking at, had deliberately allowed me to do so, and I felt the urge to rub myself raw. She smiled slowly, and then stood up.

“Fetch!” she said.

For the next fifteen minutes or so, she threw the tennis ball into the yard and I would watch where it landed then I would look at her waiting for the command to fetch. I would eagerly return with the ball in my mouth and wait for her command to drop it on the patio or in her hand. My tail was wagging back and forth, showing her that I was properly motivated.

Several times she threw the ball over to where that stupid Dane was, still sticking its nose and tongue through the hole, although I don’t think she realized that it was there. That stupid fuck of a dog could stay on the other side of the fence!

“That’s it, mother,” Angie smiled as I brought the ball to her one time. I looked up at her with a quizzical look. Why did she call me mother and not Baby Girl?

“Drop!”

I dropped the ball in her hand and looked up at her. “What?” she said, arching her eyebrows. “I could’ve called you bitch.” She smiled as she tossed the ball up and down in her hand. “My mother, the doggie bitch!”

I hung my head when she said that. She dropped the ball on my head and scooped it up when it bounced off. “Oh, mother, it’s not that bad! I just like to remind you that you’re still my mother.” Then she tossed the ball into the yard again.

“Fetch!”

As her mother, and her bitch, I scampered off on my hands and knees to get the ball.

On the last throw she had me sit and hold the ball in my mouth as she went inside. When she returned she had several doggie treats in her hand.

“Drop!”

I dropped the ball from my mouth and looked up at her. She held out her hand with the treats. I looked at her hand then back at her. All the while my damn tail was wagging.

“Eat!” she ordered.

I leaned forward, stuck my tongue out and scooped up a treat. I chewed the dry treat as quickly as I could before scooping up another from her hand. All the while she praised me and ran her hand back and forth through my page boy hair cut. Strange thing was, my tail was wagging.

Angie stood straight as I took the third treat from her hand. “Come!” and I followed her into the kitchen, I was still chewing the treat when she said that the training session was over.

“Can I say something?” I asked her as I struggled to take the dog paws off my hands.

“No,” Angie replied as she sat at the kitchen table. “Get showered and get dressed.”

I just nodded my head. I wanted to ask her if she was pleased with my enthusiasm, but then I thought that if she was not pleased she would have said so. As I walked up the stairs Angie yelled out, “And wear something sexy, like some of the stuff we picked out the other day.”

I did my best not to rub my clip clamp while I showered. As I got out of the shower I remembered the toilet bowl. I was drying my hair when I leaned over the toilet and licked my lips at the yellow water and the floating turd.

“You like my pee or the shit?”

I looked over at the bathroom door. Angie was leaning against the door jamb with her arms folded; I hadn’t heard her walk up the stairs.

“Um, ahh,” was all I could reply as I turned several shades of red and backed away from the toilet.

“Well?” she asked.

“Don’t call it shit,” I said quietly, then added, “Mistress.”

“It is shit, mother, and you will call it shit.” Her voice was commanding.

For a moment I forgot my training, and my voice rose. “I’m your mother, Angie. Please don’t call it shit!”

“What did you just call me?” Angie said as she stood up straight in the bathroom doorway.

Fuck!

“I’m sorry, Ang, um Mistress Angie, but I’m still your mother. Please don’t call it shit.” I was nervous now wondering what she was going to do. Why was I nervous, I thought. Fuck!

“Do you want another date with Miss Riding Crop?” She asked threateningly, as she slapped my right ass cheek.

“No mistress.” I shrugged my shoulders as I moved away from her a little bit, just like a child would who doesn’t want to get punished.

“I didn’t think so. I’m your mistress, but only till the competition is over. Until then, I will keep reminding you that you take direction from me. Do you understand?”

“Yes, mistress.”

“Until you answer my question, pee or shit, kneel in front of the toilet and flush it.”

I nodded my head and knelt in front of the toilet. I raised my hand to the toilet lever.

“Do you like my pee or shit, mother?”

I thought about it and barely nodded my head. I was defeated, my secret was out. “Pee,” I whispered.

“I thought so, flush the toilet.”

I pulled the lever down and let it go. I watched as the foul water swirled around in the bowl.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

I shook my head still staring at the bowl as the water drained out.

“Did you think I didn’t know? Did you think I didn’t realise that my pee turned you on?” Her tone softened slightly, she paused, and leaned forward. “I think it’s sexy,” she said softly.

I sucked in my breath and stared at her, trying to take in her words. Fuck, I was embarrassed. I thought it had been my secret, but she’d known, all along. It wasn’t only embarrassment I felt: she didn’t mind; she liked it...

“So, here’s what I’m going to do.” She stood up straight as I looked up at her. “From now on, you will drink from the toilet bowl.”

I looked up at her with a questioning look, but my heart was racing.

“It doesn’t matter if there is pee in it or not, if you’re thirsty, you will drink either from the downstairs toilet, the toilet in your bedroom, or this toilet. Do you understand?”

“Yes, mistress. Thank you mistress.” I smiled.

“If dad is home, you have my permission to close the door so he won’t see you and freak out.”

“Yes, mistress.” Fuck yes! I screamed in my brain.

As clean water filled the toilet bowl, she handed me a plastic baggie. “Next time I ask you a question, I expect you to fucking answer it. Do you understand?”

“Yes, mistress!” I smiled.

“Good. go outside and pick up your shit. Bring your shit to me because, as you know, your shit belongs to me. Now go along.”

I stood up and averted my eyes as I walked past her, out the bathroom door and down the stairs. As the parent it felt wrong, but her words still reverberated in my head, I had permission. I felt a sense of joy about my ‘secret’ being out.

I was in the backyard squatting down picking up my shit when I heard that damn Dane trying to get through the hole in the fence; it looked like the dog was trying to chew the hole bigger. I turned round and walked back to the kitchen wondering why Angie was doing this to me.

I pulled into the parking lot of the mall. Angie was out the door as soon as I stopped. She was very excited about seeing the hanging exhibition. So was I, but I wasn’t going to run into the mall for it, I mean, I do have a little self-restraint.

As I walked around behind the car to catch-up with her, she turned, looking over her shoulder. “Hurry-up pet! You must always be two steps behind me.” It didn’t look like she was joking so I hurried up a little.

Angie waited for me to catch-up. “Mother, as my pet, you must always keep up with me. Dogs should always be behind their mistress, anticipating her every move.” She reminded me.

I cleared my throat as I looked around the parking lot. “Mistress, I’m not a dog. I’m your mother when we’re not in a practice session.”

Angie looked into the bag that she had around her shoulder. She pulled out the flexible metal ruler. “Don’t make me use this on you pet. I won’t hesitate to use it on you right here in the parking lot.”

“Please, mistress, I’m not a dog,” I whined as I stomped my foot like a child. I didn’t like how this was going. I just wanted to be a normal mother for a couple of hours at the mall: after all I’d been through, I needed to be.

“You’d said you’d be my loyal dog.” She waved the metal ruler in front of her. “Are you my loyal dog? Even not in your uniform?”

I shuffled my feet and look at the ground and nodded.

“Good, you had me worried there for a second.”

I looked up and smiled weakly. “Can I ask a question, mistress?”

Angie nodded her head as she put the metal ruler away.

“Um, do I have to call you mistress while in public? I mean, it might attract unwanted attention.” I thought I had made a good point. If Angie agreed to this while in public, maybe, I could change her mind about me calling her mistress at home because, at some point I would have to call her mistress in front of Bill and I wanted to avoid that.

It looked like Angie was thinking about my question when I heard, “Hi, Kathy and Angie!”

We turned around and there was Mrs. Mary Ann Dack, one of the board members at the White Redeemer Church.

“Hi, Mary Ann!” I replied as I smiled at her.

“Hi, Mrs. Dack!” smiled Angie.

Mary Ann looked me up and down. I could see disapproval in her eyes as she looked at how I was dressed. Before we left the house, I decided to wear a pink t-shirt that showed off my mid-riff, no bra. The t-shirt said, ‘Little Girl’. I was wearing a mini-denim skirt with six inch spiked heels.

“We missed you at choir practice Thursday,” Mary Ann said as she looked at Angie and smiled. She apparently approved of what my daughter was wearing. She was wearing a one piece dress with pink tennis shoes.

“Well, um, we’ve been busy,” I waved my hand at Angie.

“Are you going to be there for tomorrow’s sermon?” she asked haughtily, as she kept looking me up and down.

Angie stepped up. “Oh, yes, I’ll make sure my mother is there!” she said cheerfully.

Mary Ann gave me a strange look after Angie had spoken for me. I quickly smiled.

“Okay,” she smiled as she walked away, but she looked over her shoulder. “You’ll be there next Sunday for the wedding, won’t you?”

Angie and I looked at each other. “Oh? What wedding is that?” I asked.

“Cherry Mayfield and Crystal Mitchell are getting hitched,” Mary Ann replied as she walked to her car.

“Crystal Mitchell? I didn’t know she was into girls!” Angie asked.

“Sure is, they’ve been dating for the last several months,” smiled Mary Ann.”

I raised my eyebrows and looked at Angie. I wondered about Crystal’s marital bed. Every Cherish Valley woman knows the power of the marital bed. Giving a girl the authority over your marital bed was one of the ultimate submissive acts a woman could do, besides dangling at the end of a rope for appreciative girls, that is.

“We’ll try and make it, if we can,” Angie said cheerfully.

As we walked into the mall, with me trailing Angie by two steps, she stopped suddenly. She pulled out a piece of paper and looked at it. People were coming in and out of the entrance of the mall where we were standing and I didn’t want to question her just then, so I waited.

Suddenly, she was off again into the mall and I scurried to keep up with her. She stopped outside a store called, “The Pet Stop”. A new store that opened several months ago, which had all kinds merchandise for pets and humans who were into pet play. I was disgusted with the concept of the store when it opened, but here we were standing outside it.

“Here,” Angie said as she handed me the piece of paper. It was a print out.

“What is this, um, mistress?” I whispered to her as I looked at the paper. I didn’t want anybody to hear me call her mistress.

“What mom?” Angie looked at me with irritation.

I looked at the list with concern. “A dog muzzle?”

“What about it?” replied Angie as she put her hands on her hips.

“That’s not part of the uniform,” I said as I looked around, making sure nobody could hear us.

“You’re a yellow retriever because of your body type and hair color. That’s a special dog breed. This muzzle will help you play the part of the retriever.”

“Still... , “ I insisted.

“Mom, a dog muzzle is used to train dogs for more socially acceptable behavior when in public.”