Pooch's Story
Part 1 Coming Home
The rain sheets down as Pooch hurriedly makes her way towards the old
brownstone at the end of Kennel St. She is running as fast as she can in her
chunky pumps but it is still awkward. She would make better time in stocking
feet but she doesn't dare remove the shoes for fear of ruining her nylons. A
million thoughts run through her head one of which is that her running will put
a ladder in her stockings. It's only September and she has but six good
stockings to last till the new year. Her back and shoulders ache from the days
work in the picture frame plant and her lungs are sore from the run from the
bus stop. She can feel a blister developing on her left heel. Still she keeps
running because the overriding question in her mind is how late is she? The
cold rain soaking the pink sweater was hardly a concern. The run had made Pooch
felt hot. She knew she was late and that made her feel ill. Up the front steps
of the house she raced. The outside door was unlocked, thank God she thought.
In she slid closing the door behind her. Pooch found herself in a small portico,
empty except for the large coconut mat in the corner by the outside door. In
one of the side walls between the outside and the inside door was a milk door.
Pooch opened it and quickly placed her shoes inside. The pink cardigan was
unbuttoned, removed, folded in four and placed on top of the shoes Next she
reached back to the zipper on the back of her dress and pulled it down. The
simple brown dress with a flower print slid off her shoulders. Pooch stepped
out of it folded the dress and placed it in the milk box. She was now dressed in
just a rather worn looking white brassier, a similarly old looking white
garter belt and plain taupe stockings. The right one had a nasty run at the
heal, near the point where she had felt the blister. Pooch was hairless below
her neck. This was made obvious by her lack of panties. Panties were not
allowed. During her period Pooch could wear a diaper, but that was as close to
panties as she ever came. She also had no watch, no jewelry, no handbag, no
wallet, no keys and no money. They were all forbidden. Pooch saw the run in the
stocking and bit her lower lip. This was not turning out to be a good day.
There was no hesitation in removing the rest of the clothing. Every moment was
important. If Ed unlocked the door to the inside of the house and saw her out
of position there would be extra punishment.
The under clothes were shoved into the milk compartment and the door shut. Pooch
gave the handle a turn and this locked the milk door. Her clothes were now out
of reach and she was totally nude. Pooch now turned towards the right front
corner of the entry way, where the cocoa mat was and kneeled on it being
careful to be very close to the wall but not to touch it. Her toes pointed
straight back and she kneeled at attention with her hands at her sides and
fingers pointing straight down. All was quiet. Where Pooch had felt hot just
minutes age she now began to feel chilled.
She was wet from the rain and the portico had no heating duct. It was a cold
wet fall.
She could stand the chill, it was the waiting she hatted. Pooch knew that the
longer it Took Ed to open the door the more severe her punishment would be. Ed
checked for her about once every twenty minutes. If he opened the door and she
was out of position the door would be closed again and she would have to wait
another twenty minutes. That would be counted as the amount of time she was
late. The time she actually got home didn't matter. If Ed was in a foul mood he
might make her wait even longer and use that time to build up his own anger.
Today was her fourtieth birthday. No one would remember, she thought.
After all who ever heard of a slaves birthday? Pooch did and it made her a bit
more sad.
Time was passing by and she knew the rest of her life would be spent in
bondage. She just couldn't know to whom. Ed had said many times that when she
no longer pleased him she would be sold. Although life was harsh now it would
be much worse if she were sold. At her age she would be no more than a piece of
meat to someone who saw a quick profit in using her as a sub in an s&m
brothel or the star of some snuff film. All traces of her pathetic existence
would probably be erased in a vat of acid. The thought that things could
actually be worse was not a lot of comfort. Pooch knew she would be howling
later tonight. For someone of forty with ten years spent in slavery Pooch was
still in remarkably good shape. At 5'8" and 110 pounds she was as thin as
a rail except for a full pair of breasts, 36C. With her arms raised every rib
was clearly visible. Ed thought this was sexy and he made sure that her weight
didn't increase. Her brown hair was cut in a short pageboy style inspired by
pictures of ancient Egyptian slaves. This was a style simple enough for Pooch to
be able to cut herself with scissors and a mirror. It required no upkeep. It
didn't cover any of her assets and most important to Ed it didn't get in the
way of a good hiding. Large, blue eyes softened the other features of her face
making Pooch look a bit younger than her years. Her nose was of average size
straight with just a small bulb on the end and a slight bump in the middle
where it had been broken once when Ed was in a drunken fit. Her face had a
collision with his knee. The massive bleeding had scared the hell out of Ed and
it hadn't happened again. He was good with his hands and when he sobered up he
packed Pooches nose with cotton and reset the soft bone himself. There would be
no emergency room for Pooch. Ed had actually done a pretty good job. The weight
that Pooch did carry was almost all muscle. Bone protruded at the points of her
hips and there was no padding on her ass or thighs just nice muscle definition
The muscles of her calves, stomach, back and shoulders were also well defined.
Her build was no accident. It was the result of hard labour and a compulsory
training program. Pooches' breasts sagged a bit, normal for any woman over
twenty-five. In her case they had been beaten, twisted, stretched, clamped,
tied, pierced, bitten, pinched and burned on a regular basis. Ed loved what he
referred to as tit play. A dark ring surrounded the base of each breast where
they were tied by the tit rope so many times that the rope had left permanent
marks. Each breast was covered with tiny small scars and bruises. Those tits
kept reminded her of their existence all times. Her naked mons fared little
better. The flesh had turned brown and was constantly swollen. The colour
helped to hide marks and bruising but the nerves were alive and well. When her
legs were spread three eyelets could be seen running along the length of each
of her inner pussy lips. These had been inserted a long time ago using a tool
from the shoe making trade. When these had been inserted, it was one of the
very few times Pooch had passed out from pain. Little plugs of flesh had
actually been punched out with a leather punch and then the eyelets were
inserted and permanently set. Since Ed had read that one could avoid passing
out through conscious effort this was now considered a serious offense and was
punished as such. The most striking feature of Pooch's naked body however were
the marks covering her back. This was Ed's living canvas. Her muscular back was
covered with weales, bumps and bruises colored from yellow to purple. the
marking ran from the bottom of her buttocks right up to the tops of her
shoulders. Soon this painting would be refreshed.
Her life was very structured and governed by strict rules. She owned nothing and
possessing anything other then the clothes on her back was forbidden, thus no
money, purse, keys etc. Entertainment of any sort was not allowed, no
television, radio, books, magazines or newspapers. Outside the house Pooch was
not to be assertive with anyone.
In the house things went much further. There was no talking unless spoken to
and then only to respond to what was asked. She was never to give an opinion,
argue or ask for anything. In the house her gaze was to be directed at peoples
feet, never their face. Obedience was to be absolute, with no hesitation, and
this extended to anyone in the house. She was responsible for all the cooking
and house work. No decisions were her own. Pooch was told when and what to
eat, when to use the toilet or in her case bucket, when and where to sleep etc.
There could be no friendships or communications with anyone outside the house.
Touching herself was one of the most serious infractions. Masturbation was a
totally selfish act and slaves lived only to please their masters, never
themselves. Ed actually kept a book filled with rules along with minimum
punishments. He also wrote down every infraction so that if he saw Pooch in
frequent violation of any rule the punishment would be increased till her
behavior was corrected. He kept this as a permanent record with no expiry. She
couldn't get over how awful it felt to be confronted with things she had done
eight or nine years ago but everything was part of the permanent record. The
bristles from the mat were starting to irritate Pooch's knees and especially
the tops of her feet. Ed seemed to delight in finding was to make every routine
a little more difficult or uncomfortable for her. Kneeling on the tile floor
would be just too easy. There is nothing like waiting to make time slow to a
crawl. The minutes slowly passed.
The sick feeling in her stomach got worse. "Please, please open the
door", she thought. Finally she heard the bolt turn and the door open.
"Well you shit faced whore your fourty minutes late", Ed yelled at her
in his most intimidating voice.
"It's the second time this month. I guess I didn't create a strong enough
impression on you last time, isn't that right whore "? Pooch knew better
than to disagree. "Yes master. I'm sorry master".
"Well you're going to remember this time and your going to remember for a
very long time".
"Get up and start my dinner and don't bother putting on the serving outfit
you've wasted enough time. Marla will be coming over later and there is much to
do". "Thank goodness for small favors" Pooch thought. She
hated the serving outfit which was a bit like a french maid costume with only
the cap, a tiny apron, black fishnet stockings, garter belt and extremely high
stiletto heels with a heavy ankle strap ensuring they stayed on. The shoes had
been purchased from a specialty shop deliberately a size too small. They hurt
her feet terribly and slowed everything down. Hearing that Marla was coming
over was another matter. Pooch hatted Marla in a way that she hatted no one
else. She was Ed's girl friend and a lot prettier and younger than she. Marla
loved to flaunt her relationship with Ed in Pooch's face. She was extremely
smart, a court room lawyer, and she was an unrepentant sadist that liked
inflicting psychological torture as much as physical. Although nobody else knew
it, Pooch was more of a reason for Marla spending time with Ed than he was. The
fact that Marla knew that Pooch hatted her and yet had to be just as obedient
to her orders as she was to Ed's was just so delicious.
"There will be no dinner for you tonight" Ed said.
Pooch figured as much. She was almost never fed before a whipping because there
was too much danger of choking on her own vomit if she were gagged.
She got up on her toes and keeping her eyes down walked past Ed into the house
and toward the kitchen.
