Chapter 9

I awoke in my room, on my bed with my mates. My head felt numb and my body ached and I was afraid to open my eyes, although I couldn't say why. I just felt safer in the dark. I hugged one of the dogs to my body, burying my face in his fur.

I remembered some things from the night before, or I supposed it could have been the week before, since I felt like I'd been sleeping forever and my memories seemed distant and remote. They were surreal and disjointed, and I lay there trying to put them in some order, but that was pointless. It just made the numbness turn into a little throbbing pain and I tried to shut it all out of me.

Eventually though I did have to move, mostly because I really needed to pee. That was when I got a real surprise. The dreams and memories and confusion were foggy at best, but seeing my breasts, my nipples swollen and dark and freshly pierced with gleaming white bone rings, brought some of it back. The hut or lodge, or whatever it had been, and the old medicine man piercing me. They were smaller than I remembered, more delicate seeming, and it was hard to believe they were formed of bone and not something like white gold made dull with passing years.

And below them was another piercing, one that took me completely by surprise because I truly had no memory of it at all. A much larger, more sturdy ring of bone was sticking through the swell of my sex, the fatty mound of tissue just a few inches above the cleft of my vagina. I stared at it, swallowing hard because as soon as I'd seen it I could feel the pain, like it had been there all along unnoticed, just waiting for me to catch up. There were bruises, dull and yellowish blue, and the holes in my flesh, one perhaps an inch above the other where the ring penetrated and exited, were red and sore.

It was in me deep, I realized, this thick circle of bone, and it was frightening. It was a couple inches in diameter and so neatly crafted that I couldn't see the joint where it must have been separated, but that part of it could have been inside me too, for all I knew. I wasn't going to try and rotate the thing and find out, that was for certain. It was all I could do to give the ring a small tug, just a tiny one as if to assure myself that it was real and in me. The pain, which had been a dull ache, became something sharp as I pulled on the ring gently, making me gasp and I let go, promising myself that I'd never do that again!

The lines and decorations and symbols drawn in blood were still on my body as well and after I peed in the drain I washed myself slowly, being extra careful around my three rings. Most of the blood and the ashes and paint on my face washed away, but not all. My tummy still had a large round shaped symbol of some sort, resembling a yin-yang thing, but not quite, with odd shaped lines radiating around it. It wasn't large, and centered on my belly button the way it was, I suppose it looked rather interesting. A real tribal tattoo that wouldn't go away no matter how much soap I used and I'd known a girl with a similar one, a dancer whose name I've forgotten. She'd had a sun around her belly button, but I sensed that my tattoo meant something more than hers. I just didn't know what it might be.

There were claw marks around my ribs and waist, and tooth marks on my shoulders and the back of my neck. Seeing them and touching the wounds filled me with confused memories of the wolf and our union. I'd been sure that had been a dream. Mating with a wolf? In front of all those people, even women and children? It seemed impossible and I actually blushed a little, all by myself there at my bath, realizing it might not have been so impossible after all, but that did little in the way of explaining anything. There was a conflict inside me. Fear and nervous anxiety, perhaps even anger filled me, but without direction or even a cause that I could understand.

I felt more confused than I'd ever been in my life and for just a moment I think my humanity returned, full force, and I rose to my feet, taking two steps towards the door and determined to bang my fist against it, to demand explanations and answers...

But that was fleeting and I dropped to my hands and knees, my resolve failing, and crept back to the bedding submissively, yielding to something unseen and unknown within me. I crawled back into my place, between Bandy and Bush, moving slowly and careful of the deep rooted pain in my lower belly. The ring, that one thing, was the most difficult to understand and accept; the most frightening thing too and I worried over it. My nipples I could understand, the tattoo I could appreciate and find something familiar to grasp, but my pubis pierced me so completely. It made me wonder of what possible use such a thing could be.

I received no answers, nor did I ask, and over time my body healed itself. I forgot most of my dreams, but not completely as they revisited me occasionally in my sleep. But they weren't nightmares or anything, they resembled more the sexual dreams everyone has once in awhile. Sometimes I'd dream of Whitecloud touching me, making his art on my body, piercing my flesh without pain, but rather with pleasure. Other times it was the wolf, my shadowy lover who would creep into my bed and take me, growling and thrusting with his jaws tight around my neck. But mostly I would dream of the Indian called Red Crow, who would give me something to drink and whisper secrets in my ear. But I could never remember what he was telling me when I woke up, and that was mildly frustrating.

My Master took to leashing me, which was interesting because he'd never leashed any of us before. I hadn't even considered that he might own a leash, let alone use one. But he did and the reason for my nipple piercings became clear the first time he attached the leash to them. It was a long leather leash, like anyone might buy at a pet store, except that it ended with two lengths of metal chain and clips; one for each of my breasts.

He didn't need to leash me, of course, but it was clear that he found some pleasure in it and so then did I. He would take me for walks, tugging the leash and pulling my nipples taut. They were always hard and swollen it seemed, one of the pleasant side effects of being pierced, I guess. They felt more sensitive than they'd been before and sometimes I would lag and caper so that Master would have good reason to pull my leash hard, stretching my nipples and the firm swell of my breasts. It was almost painful at times, but always pleasurable and I could cum sometimes just from that, walking behind my Master, or crawling in the deep soft grass and earth of the fields.

I also found out about the ring in my pubis, which had taken many months to heal fully. It was nearly winter in fact, late autumn, with each day shrouded with grey clouds and cold rain, that my Master fastened a large eye-bolt into the floor of our room. We watched curiously, my three mates and I, as Master drilled a deep hole as big around as my index finger and then inserted the bolt deeply into the floor and through one of the heavy oak beams that supported it. It was anchored firmly, that was obvious, and as our Master explained later, the bolt was embedded completely through the wood and fixed tightly into place with a nut. That eye-bolt, perhaps two inches across, wasn't ever going to come loose.

An hour later I was attached to it, on my hands and knees with just enough chain between the bolt and the piercing in my pubic mound so that I was able to kneel comfortably on all fours, with my arms and thighs straight. But I couldn't move much. I couldn't stand up at all. The best I could do was to squat over it, or lay down on my side little more than a foot or two away from it. I was in a cage it seemed, with no walls or bars, just a few dozen links of steel and a couple padlocks to secure me completely.

I resented my loss of freedom at first, as any pet might, especially once Master had satisfied himself that I couldn't get loose of it somehow and he left me there. That seemed unfair since I was sure he'd done it for his pleasure, so why would he leave? It didn't make sense to me and I barked and whined and pulled at the chain until I felt the pain growing too much. My piercing would rip out of my flesh before the bolt splintered the wood or the chain would break.

My mates took me of course, since I was in the perfect position for them and I found it exciting somehow that I was helpless like that. I wouldn't have resisted them anyway. I mated very nearly every day with at least one of them, but it was just the idea that now I had little choice in the matter. I could have lain down and tried to curl up, I suppose, but you'd be surprised how little freedom you really have with a short heavy chain attached to your sex. So while I wasn't completely taken against my will, there was always the knowledge that my denial would be useless. I had no choice and on the whole it made the sex even better for me. The first time felt new and exciting. and halfway through it, with Bush pumping my stretched pussy eagerly, our Master joined us, smiling and rocking in his chair. This was what he'd been waiting for, I thought, and that made it really good.

Once all three dogs had taken me, Master took his place behind me, shoving his penis into my stretched and sperm filled hole without a word. He fucked me hard and it was nice, the way he pushed and pulled at my body so that my piercing was tight inside my flesh. He pulled at my nipples as well, twisting the rings and giving them little tugs that sent shivers of pleasure spiked with pain through my feverish body. I came hard and often, panting and gazing over my shoulder at my Master's face. The satisfaction in his eyes made me proud and happy that I could serve him this way.

It was a new experience and one that we delighted in often. Master rarely kept me chained for more than a few hours, just long enough so that the dogs could have me and then, occasionally, himself. For their part, my three mates thought it was a wonderful game and they always got excited when they heard the rattle of my chains and saw our Master locking me into position over the bolt. It meant they could do whatever they wanted, since there were times when I did refuse them, just as there were times when I couldn't arouse them. Once on the chain though, I could refuse them nothing, nor could I refuse anyone else as became apparent when Master locked me to the bolt for his friend, the round faced Indian who'd spoken to Master previously that summer about Whitecloud.

He'd come around many times over the months, especially after my ceremony with the tribe. Often enough that my three mates had become used to him, just as I had. He and our Master had become friends, I thought, which was good because Master seldom spent time with anyone that I could tell and I worried over that a little. It seemed as if he should have a wife and sometimes I would daydream a little, wondering what it would be like to be a woman again and have the man for a partner, instead of a Master. But I always found myself smiling at the thought and even blushing a little because it seemed so foolish when he whistled for me, or stroked my head after a meal or a long tiring session with one of the other dogs. I was exactly what I was meant to be, I was sure, and anything else would have left me empty somehow, the way I'd been before.

The Indian man was large and round with a belly that hung over his belt, and he had one of those pleasant moon-like faces that seemed made for smiling. I felt comfortable around him, which means I wasn't afraid or intimidated. I'd felt only slight pangs of nervousness the first few times he'd watched me with my mates, a little flush of embarrassment, but probably more for him than myself. That passed quickly though as it became obvious that he enjoyed watching me a great deal and my Master didn't seem to mind. They would sit and drink beer and talk about the weather or sports or business, anything except me, which seemed strange because I was only a few feet away being fucked by one of the dogs. Or sucking one of them, or sometimes both at once. I assumed it was a man thing, to watch something exciting and pretend like it was nothing at all.

But I could see them shifting in their chairs. I heard the odd grunt or sigh and sensed the hardening of their cock's hidden safely away. I could even smell them, sometimes, the scent of their human arousal spilling from their pores and carried on the damp autumn air. It made me happy, excited even, and often filled me with even greater desire to please the two men.