Chapter 9: Start of Competition

Coach Wagner, recent college graduate, age 22

Cindy Spanner, 37, Peaches, Akita: Stacey 16
Partner is Charger

Mary Johnson, 35, Cricket, Water Spaniel: Megan 15
Partner is Pounder

Kathy Woods, 34, Baby Girl, Yellow Retriever: Angie 14
Partner is Caesar

Barbara Lane, 34, Foofu, Border Terrier: Zoe 14
Partner is Hammer

Maggie Hart, 33, Coco, Irish Setter: Karen, 14
Partner is Rocket

Ida Carter, 34, live in girlfriend
Helen Carter, 14, daughter
Bill Woods, 35, husband

“Okay bitches,” yelled Karen as she surveyed us in our cages. She had to shout over the noise of the other teams bringing their cages into the staging area and the background din of the crowd coming into the arena. “The judges will be coming through to look at you and to pair you up with the other breeds from the other schools.”

“This is where the points start,” added Stacey as she looked us over. I knelt there in my cage wagging my tail, my tongue hanging out. I was panting, doing my best to look like a dog, but fuck I was nervous.

“Don’t fail us bitches,” Mistress Angie said to all of us but especially to me.

We were removed from our form fitting cages and put into large square cages. We sat on a mat inside the cage. The mat didn’t fully cover the base of the cage as one end was uncovered allowing us to relieve ourselves. In the opposite corner of the cage were two bowls for food and water.

As I got comfortable in the cage I thought back to earlier that morning.

Gawd I was nervous, but Mistress was not. As she woke, she pushed me to the other side of the bed.

“Get up, motherfucker, it’s my big day,” she said as she stretched. She was wearing her nightdress, and for a moment as she arched her body, it highlighted the shape of her teen body.

Her words hurt me as I looked up at her. Big day for her? What about me, I thought as I rolled over on my stomach. Mistress pulled the covers down and then reached across and pulled my ass cheeks apart. It had become her morning routine, and one I longed for every morning, to pull my ass cheeks apart and spit on my anus, then pushed her spittle into my brown hole.

“Mine, mine, mine,” she said as she pushed her spit into my anus. She pushed her finger deep, stretching my sphincter and massaging the livid red wall inside, and as she knew it would, my cunt gushed. “I wish I had time to put this brown hole on the end of my strap-on and fuck it silly, but we have to get moving.” She slapped me on the ass cheeks.

“Yes, Mistress,” I said, feigning disappointment.

“On your hands and knees motherfucker,” Mistress ordered as she sat up on the bed.

I quickly got down on my hands and knees and looked up at her. Mistress leaned over and patted me on the head then ran her fingers around my mouth.

“These past two months have really been wonderful mother,” she almost whispered to me. She pushed a finger into my mouth and I knew at once it was the one that had been in my anus. “I have learned a lot and I hope you have learned what your status is around the house.” I used my tongue to coat it with saliva and then sucked and swallowed before she slid it out again.

“Arf, arf,” I smiled up at her.

“Good girl, yes you are!” she said in that special doggy voice and patted me on the head again.

My status? When Caesar was around the house he lounged on the furniture, he got the choicest cuts of meat, and was always the first to eat leaving me with sloppy seconds. I was Ida’s play thing; I was intimate with her cunt juice and anal smells, either directly from her source or on Bill’s cock. As for Helen, I couldn’t get enough of the girl. She loved to put peanut butter into her anal cavity and have me lick it out, and all the while she would giggle and laugh. There were times I would sleep on the floor next to her bed with my leash attached and she would hold it as she slept, explaining she wanted me to protect her from the monsters at night. It was uncomfortable but it had its compensations: sometimes if she woke, she would pull me into bed with her and I would lick her budding tits until she drifted back to sleep.

Helen bounded into the room. “Can I check Baby Girl?” she asked Mistress. She was wearing her flannel nightie that came to her knees, where the hem flared out. She loved to come up to me and put the hem of her nightie over my head and then move her cunt to my face; she loved to have me “lick her good morning”.

I looked at Mistress with a questioning look.

“Arf, arf!”

Mistress rolled over on her side and pulled the pillow under her head. She ignored me.

“Sure why not.”

“Oh, goodie!” the teen giggled. She pulled her nightie up and draped it over my head. “Lick me Baby Girl!”

For the next couple of minutes I was in heaven as my tongue roamed over that smooth teen cunt, inside and around it and up and down, and sometimes down to her fragrant little anus, and all the while she had both hands on my head as she guided my efforts. As always, my cunt was wet and dripping but I could do nothing to relieve myself: I would have to hope that Mistress would permit me to hump her leg or Helen’s leg, fuck, even Ida’s leg would do, but remembering what day it was, I knew that was unlikely.

Mistress sat up on the edge of the bed. “Go wake-up Miss Ida and daddy, Baby Girl.”

I pulled my head out from under Helen’s nightie and bounded out the room and down the hallway. I pushed open the door and bounded into the master bedroom. I sat back on my heels. “Arf, arf, arf!” I said.

Ida rolled over on the bed and looked at me. “Good girl!” she said sleepily and got out of bed and walked to the bathroom. “Come here,” she called and I followed her obediently, watching her sit down on the toilet and spread her legs. She tapped her leg and I came over and put my head between her thighs as she had trained me to do, pushing my mouth and nose onto her slit as she began to pee.

“Lick!” she commanded, and took both my ears between her fingers, steering my tongue towards the acrid yellow stream of piss. I extended my tongue into the flow and lapped at the warm pungent liquid, resisting the urge to smile: I think she thought that she had some special hold on me; little did she realise that Mistress had released me from my inhibitions and I would have done so much more if she had asked.

“You’re such a nasty animal, Baby Girl,” cooed Ida.

I heard Bill come into the bathroom. “What a fucking slut she’s turned out to be,” I heard him say. Once, not so many weeks ago, that would have cut me to the core, but that was before Caesar, before that thick beautiful cock raped me and showed me what fucking was really all about.

Helen came into the bathroom also. “Miss Angie wants her to get something to eat.” She ignored her mother pissing, and Bill’s cock and rushed over to me. I felt her hand grab my dog collar and pull my head away from Ida’s cunt. Ida pouted but I followed Helen.

Caesar was waiting in the kitchen for his morning meal. He wagged his tail when he saw me and secretly my heart leapt with joy knowing he was here and not out fucking around.

Helen poured moist dog food into the one bowl on the floor. I crawled over to get my share but Caesar stepped in front of me, his cock and balls swinging back and forth. I moved around him and tried to nudge my head in but Caesar growled and I backed away. I looked at Helen with pleading eyes in that maybe she could pour me a separate bowl but she just shrugged her shoulders. “Sorry Baby Girl,” she said and walked out the door.

I sat there waiting for him to finish and felt my mouth watering, not for the food, but for his cock hanging so close to me. That jack hammer piece of meat could fuck a bitch into submission and I knew that first hand. I licked my lips and my cunt moistened: as selfish and self-centred as Caesar was, he knew how to fuck a bitch and me in particular. I smiled to myself and wondered what the others would do if they ever found out about it.

Over the next hour Mistress washed me and shaved my cunt and anus. She told me it was to get me into perfect condition for the competition, but I noticed that her fingers spent much of the time inside me. Eventually, she applied a spray to my page boy haircut with the school colors and then turned me over to Ida and Helen as she got ready.

Ida’s job was to apply glossy colors to my cunt and anus. I could see the delight in her eyes as she told me to lie on my back with my legs pulled back to my chest and then she gently brushed a brown polish around my sphincter muscle and blew on it.

“Do you think Baby Girl is stupid for doing this?” Helen asked as she sat next to me flicking my right nipple with her fingers.

“Why do you ask that?” Ida replied. I also looked over at her.

“Well, some kids around school say that mothers are stupid for acting like dogs.”

“Well, sweetheart, yes some women can be stupid for acting like a dog. For other women it’s natural for them to act like a dog. Baby Girl has found her true self so acting like a dog is not stupid for her.”

“Arf, arf!” I barked in some surprise to hear the obnoxious Ida sum up my own enlightenment so succinctly. Yes I had volunteered to do this but now I realized that she was right, that I had found my true self.

“I want a dog like Baby Girl,” Helen announced as she tugged on both my nipples, twisting them in a way that she knew sent pulses of pleasure to my clit. In the past that would have embarrassed and humiliated me but I was way past that now.

“We just can’t go out and buy one honey,” replied Ida as she pulled my cunt lips back and forth, trying to apply cherry red lipstick over the spreading tide of cream that flowed from my hole. Fuck I wanted to cum, but I knew that Mistress would be upset with me and would probably whip or cane me and that would not be good on the day of the competition.

“Not buy one. Have you for my dog like Baby Girl is for Miss Angie,” Helen said innocently.

Ida stopped what she was doing and a sudden silence fell. I looked at her then Helen and back again. Oh fuck! Did I hear that right?

Ida cleared her throat and shifted nervously as she quickly glanced at me then looked at her daughter. “Well, sweetheart, I don’t have time to be a dog. I have a very important job that takes most of my time,” Ida stammered and I could tell she was sweating bullets. I felt a sudden urge to laugh, but somehow managed to stop myself. Fuck the only important job a woman has is to be on her hands and knees at her daughter’s side.

“But I want a dog that will do what I tell it to and poop in the garden and lick my cunt in the morning.” She paused, her eyes beseeching. “I know you are busy, but what if I want to join the sport next year? You could help me right?” She stared at her mother, her eyebrows raised.

“Well, um, we’ll see, sweetie,” Ida said, and I could hear the desperation in her voice. “You might have other interests next year.”

Helen persisted. “And Baby Girl likes being a dog because she is always wagging her tail and when I sit on her face in the morning I know she likes it because she gets all wet and smelly down there.” She paused again, her eyes never leaving her mother’s face. “Please, mom, pleeaase?”

Ida shifted uncomfortably and looked away from her daughter. “Sweetheart, we can’t talk about it now. We both have important things to do to help get Baby Girl ready. Let’s concentrate on that and we can talk about it another time.”

Helen pouted and her shoulders dropped, but she didn’t pursue it and I could see Ida breathe a sigh of relief.

After Ida had applied the lipstick to my cunt lips she moved up to my nipples, carefully applying a red lipstick around my aureoles. I couldn’t help but giggle, partly because it tickled, but also because I kept seeing her as a puppy girl. She avoided my eyes until she had finished, and only then did she speak again.

“Okay, Baby Girl, kiss me, show me appreciation for my work on your genitals,” she said, smiling down at me as she moved her anus over my face.

She squatted down over my mouth with her feet on either side of my head and I looked up at her anus. She liked to think that she was imposing her will upon me by making me do something she thought I would hate, but she didn’t know the new liberated me. I lifted my head a little and gently kissed her muscle, slowly licking and kissing as she moved her ass up and down my mouth. I pushed my tongue hard against the brown centre and heard her gasp, feeling the sphincter begin to push out against the pressure before I withdrew it.

She looked at me for a moment and then turned to her daughter. “Honey, sometimes I think that Baby Girl’s mouth and tongue are a perfect fit for my ass.”

Mother and daughter laughed, then Helen said, “If you were my dog, you could lick my ass like that all the time.”

Mistress yelled down, “Make sure you take her outside to poop and pee!”

Grateful for the interruption, Ida hastily grabbed my collar and led me out of the room and down the stairs. Twenty minutes later Helen announced that Coach Wagner was pulling up with the truck and I got into my cage and Ida and Helen wheeled me outside.

In the street in front of the house a crowd of people from the neighborhood cheered and whistled when I was wheeled round from the side of the house: I should have been embarrassed being shown off like this, but I had nothing but pride, even more so when Mistress came out the front door in her uniform.

Inside the truck, Cricket, Coco, and Peaches were already in the back and we exchanged nervous smiles as we moved off to pick up Foofu.

My thoughts suddenly came back to the present as Mistress put her fingers into my cage. I wagged my tail hard and licked them and barked with excitement: “Arf, arf, arf!”

The cages from the different teams had arrived in the back stage holding area and the judges were beginning to pair up bitches from different teams. Across from me in a cage similar to mine was another mother with the same yellow tinged skin as me and I realized that she was a yellow retriever. She had a page boy haircut that was a spiked in her school colors of green and yellow which made her look faintly ridiculous.

I wondered if her cage had been placed next to mine because we were to be paired up to compete against each other: no one had said anything, but it seemed likely as we were the same breed. There was a girl leaning against the cage who looked to be the same age as Mistress and the woman in the cage was barking desperately, trying to get her attention. The girl ignored her for a little while before spinning round and kicking the side of the cage.

“Why don’t you just shut-up Cookie, you stupid fucking animal!” she spat, and then turned away and walked off into the distance. The mother looked across at me and I could see tears in her eyes, but she quickly looked away and settled down into a corner of her cage. For a moment I felt sorry for her, but then I remembered this was a competition. If she and I were to be paired against each other, I couldn’t afford to be sentimental.

Suddenly, I heard our Mistresses arrive. They looked so smart wearing their blue and silver dominatrix uniform with a slit down the middle between the breasts which went all the way down to the navel. The uniform was form fitting with no panties or bras and black knee high boots with a five inch stiletto heels. They all looked so ravishing and sexy that I was sure the crowd would cheer for us when we went into the arena.

For a little while we all had time to kill as the crowds arrived and the media began its coverage. Mistress leaned back against my cage and as she did so, her short skirt flipped up, exposing her bottom. Unable to resist, I pressed my nose through the wire and tried to nuzzle it her cunt, and she suddenly giggled and stood up.

“That’s very naughty, Baby Girl,” she said smiling. “Now sit and behave yourself like a good little bitch.”

“Arf, arf!” I barked, and sat back down. I glanced across at Cookie and saw her staring at me.

“Hello girls everywhere!” smiled the girl holding a microphone. “This is Jessica from Teen News, the social media app that brings you all the sex news for discerning fourteen to sixteen year-old girls.” She was fresh faced with perfect teeth, blonde hair and blue eyes and she smiled sexily into the smart phone operated by her assistant. She paused for a moment, letting the phone sweep down over her tight pink t-shirt, lingering for a moment on the little bumps that were her tits, before continuing down to a short denim skirt that came mid-thigh. It zoomed in for a moment to the shadow between her thighs before returning to her photogenic face.

“Remember girls, Teen News is the only social media platform to have official access backstage for the Puppy Girl Competition, so stay with us if you want to be where the real action is.”

She lowered the microphone and smiled for a few more seconds before making a ‘cut’ sign to her camera girl. A crowd of women and girls behind the tape barrier cheered and a woman yelled out, “I love you, Jessica!” trying desperately to get her attention.

The fourteen year-old had become a celebrity the past year when she joined the Teen News team. She quickly became known for her stories on teen fashion trends and mother/daughter relationships, but made her mark when she did a series of stories on why women were considered sexual animals.

As a result of her success, she was always in demand for the talk show circuit, parties and important sexual events and she had even been given a talk show of her own where she and her interviewee masturbated while they chatted: it was called ‘Jilling with Jessica’ and had become an instant hit. It was rumoured that she had several “kept” adult women at home who attended her every need, and also that these women paid Jessica’s parents for the privilege of living in their house to attend their daughter’s every whim and desire. Of course, nobody could be for sure if this was the case, but rumours were rife.

It was because of Jessica’s popularity and the fact that she was a natural in front of the camera that the Board of Elders gave Teen News exclusive backstage access to the competition. This meant that it would be accessible only to teen girls: access to the social media platform was restricted to those with a special code which was issued only to girls who were interested and who could afford it. Without adult women or their mother’s prying into their business, the girls were able to interact freely on the app and exchange ideas about women and sex.

Jessica pressed her fingers on her earpiece for a moment and then raised her microphone, her glowing smile returning. “Yes Tammy, we have exclusive backstage access to the teen athletes and their animals.” She paused. “Let’s go back there now and meet the girl athletes.” She gave the cut sign and lowered her microphone before turning and waving to the cheering crowd of women and girls and blowing them a kiss. She gestured to her camera girl, walked over to a door that read “Officials and athletes only,” opened it and walked inside.

Beyond the barrier that held back the crowd of women and girls, it was a carnival atmosphere: fairground rides glittered with bright lights and blaring rock music; small stalls offered exotic food and drink and sent appetising smells drifting across the crowd; stores such as, “Sir Denim Clothes”, “Skimpy Clothes”, “Hang Mom High”, and “Cunt Busters” sold merchandise at specially ‘reduced’ prices from large, colourful tents; and all those institutions that made Cherish Valley such a special place were represented in force.

The whorehouse had their women working the crowd around their large booth. Ten naked whores squatted ‘open-thigh’ on their platform high heels, chained by the neck with their hands cuffed behind their backs. They were offering five dollar blowjobs to the men and boys walking past and those who didn’t have a cock in their mouth were trying to entice the males to step over and give their services a try. A small crowd of males had formed around the booth, some queuing for their turn, others just watching or shouting encouragement.

Around the side, there were women selling strap-on’s to a gaggle of teen girls and adult women and to encourage sales, each purchase came with five free minutes to try out the dildo in the cunt or anus of a whore strapped down on a rape table. Sales had proved so popular that they had to bring in two extra tables and each one was being used to capacity.

The Female School Administrators Union (FSAU) and the Female Parent Teachers Association (FPTA) had combined their funds for a “kissing booth”. For five dollars the customer could pull their pants down, or their skirts up and have the teacher or administrator kiss and lick their asshole for five minutes. There was a line of high school kids waiting for their favorite teacher and a lot of adult males lining up in front of the administrators’ table.

The Family Strip Club had a large tent set up and inside were five specially made tables where mother-daughter teams performed stripteases to music. The audience were loud, but generally well-behaved, mostly father and sons, enjoying seeing their wives and mothers, sisters and daughters dance so provocatively in front of a large audience. Every half hour, the audience got to vote for the best mother-daughter combo and the winners had to fuck each other on stage with a variety of dildos. The screams of pleasure or pain and the cheers could be heard halfway across the carnival area, and as a result there was a long line of men and boys waiting to get in. In order to avoid them becoming restless and unruly, a number of mothers had volunteered to suck them or jack them off and they could be seen moving from cock to cock, dripping with spunk.

The Pathfinders hanging team had a large platform set-up, above which was the “Hanging Beam” with ten nooses hanging from it and ten small stools under each noose. Every fifteen minutes ten mothers from the team would stand on the stools with the nooses around their necks and, to add to the tension, they wore blind folds and ear plugs so they couldn’t tell what was going on around them. Kids from the considerable crowd were encouraged to pay a small fee for the privilege of pushing the women off the stools, and judging by the shouts, there was no lack of volunteers.

Every thirty minutes, the Pathfinders would but on a demonstration with their mothers, getting the women to perform a dance as they dangled from the noose by wielding a fifteen foot long thin stick with a ten foot long leather strap attached to it. As their mothers swung, the girls would flick the stick so that the whip would strike the mother’s body, causing her to “dance” by moving her legs up and down and side to side. Some of the girls got so excited by the cheers of the crowd that they swung their whips a little too hard, raising angry red welts on the women’s bodies.

As the side shows were going and the main event drew ever closer, the crowds poured in, not only from the county but from neighbouring counties and states where people had heard about the competition and come to see for themselves. It was being reported on social media that parking was a mess, that there were traffic jams for miles around, and people were being urged to take the free transportation that had been provided by the “Mid-Autumn Festival” committee.

Security was also an issue: religious fringe groups had come to protest the sin and depravity that was occurring, but they weren’t allowed past the security checkpoints by the festival organizers on the excuse that they had not paid the required fee for a booth. This left the protesters with a dilemma: if they paid for individual entry tickets or paid for a booth then it could be said that they were condoning the type of behavior that they were protesting about. In the end they contented themselves by staging their protests a hundred yards from the checkpoints.