Pooch's Story
Part 3 Marla's Tune
Ed stood well back from Pooch's left Side. He held the strap in his right hand
straight down so that the end rested on the floor. He took a small step with
his left foot followed by a large step with his right his strap arm windmilling
over his head and then speeding down as he bent at the waist to add every last
bit of velocity. The sound of the air passing through the holes in the strap
quickly went from a low "whoosh" to a high pitched whistle.
The strap crashed right across the center of Pooch's back. "Pooch entered
another world where the only reality was pain and the only thought was please,
please stop. Her body tensed bruising her hips over the cross bar even more,
but this she didn't even feel. What she felt was a wide strip of skin being
ripped off her back and she screamed over the bit. The skin immediately turned
crimson with dozens of tiny pale circles where the holes in the big boy were.
"Not bad", said Marla, "but could you slow down your arm until
it's on the way down and then give it a sharp pull. It will increase to tip
velocity". Pooch couldn't believe it. She was loosing her mind after just
one stroke and here was Marla coaching Ed on how to make the next stroke hurt
her even more. If she could have changed her earlier decision she would have
now.
The second stroke landed over the strong muscles of her shoulders. He had
listened to his lover and the result was a higher pitched whistle, a louder
crack and a more desperate scream.
"Good job Ed. Now give it about half a minute to let the pain peak".
As the scream died down to a loud sob stroke number three landed just above the
base of her buttocks. Pooch was in total panic. Her heart pounded as to be
visible from across the room. She was hyperventilating, sweating, her nose ran
like a faucet and she was praying for the end, any end.
"Now go back and hit her over the middle of the back again. I bet that will
get an interesting reaction". On the forth stroke Pooch went hysterical.
The scream didn't stop.
Maybe, she thought, if she screamed as loud as she could without stopping it
would convince the two of them that she just couldn't stand another blow.
"I told you it would get a reaction". Marla had her feet up and had
started to finger herself left hand underneath the robe while the right hand
held her glass. "Now come down fast in between the three spots you've
already got, and see if you can get a higher leg kick before stepping into the
stroke".
The two loudest cracks followed one right after another. Pooch's body looked for
a stronger way to express it's desperation. She evacuated from every hole she
could expel from. Her nose ran, her eyes, wept her empty stomach sent up acid,
her bladder gushed forward a broad stream of urine and her bowel shot out a
massive turd followed by a gush of gas. She hung quiet, able to fight no more.
"You don't allow this, do you Ed? I thought she was better trained".
"This is going to cost you dear" purred Marla.
"Why don't you release her Ed and then snuggle up to me on the chair.
Pooch has a mess to clean up and there's no reason we shouldn't enjoy
ourselves while she does".
"Pooch dear, you are going to have ten minutes to eat up all the piss,
snot, barf and shit that's on the floor. The floor has to be licked clean. If
it takes more than ten minutes it will cost an extra stroke for every minute.
When you're finished and the floor passes my inspection we will start again
from the beginning. I will not put up with this sort of bull shit. I strongly
recommend that you never try this again. Oh, don't chew the shit, just bite off
and swallow. I want it sitting in your stomach as long as possible".
When Ed unhooked the wrist cuffs Pooch slumped over the cross bar. Rest, just
please give me a second to rest she thought. The ankle cuffs and gag were
removed but still she couldn't force herself to move. "The clock has
started. I suggest you get your ass in gear or you are going to be a lot sorrier
than you already are", said Marla.
Slowly Pooch brought her legs together and pushed of the bar. Her back was still
on fire and the muscles ached so much. Much of the skin was going a dark maroon
color and swelling from the bruising. "You better catch the end of that
river of piss before it spreads too far, shouted Ed".
Pooch got on her hands and knees and crawled over to were it was flowing pursed
her lips and started to suck in the vile fluid off of the slimy floor.
"Work that tongue to get into all the bumps", said Marla, and use the
back of your tongue and not just the tip. I want you to get all of the taste.
You have nine minutes left".
Marla was now sitting on Ed's lap with the judges robes up over her hips showing
nothing underneath but a thick broad thatch of black hair and sheer black thigh
high stockings leading to black stiletto pumps. Ed was busy fingering her,
spreading her juices over her thighs and bush, sliding his hand over the
glorious, long stockinged legs. As they sipped Moet & Chandon Ed and Marla
were in heaven. As Pooch worked her way along the floor, tongue scrapped raw,
slurping, licking and finally swallowing her own feces, she was in hell. After
every swallow she wanted to retch and every swallow was harder to keep down as
her belly filled with excrement. When Pooch was down to tonguing out the bumps
in the floor Marla told her to use her hair to finish cleaning up and then go
back to the bar.
"Nine and a half minutes" Marla said. "you finally did something
right.
Now lets see if you can behave better while you're being whipped".
Ed lifted Marla of his lap and put her back down in the recliner while he went
to reattach the slave. She winced as her back was bent and she was stretched
towards the wall. Although a lot of the sting was gone her back ached and was
extremely tender. The stroke of a feather across her back would have brought a
yelp. The taste in her mouth and feeling in her gut had her fighting back
nausea all the time. Ed didn't put the gag back in her mouth.
"Now dear", said Marla, "you can count this as your first lesson
in real discipline. You're not going to be gagged. Ed is going to start the
whipping from the beginning. I know you won't have the self control to keep
quiet but you will count each stroke after it lands and ask for another,
HARDER!, one. DO I MAKE MYSELF PERFECTLY CLEAR!!", Marla shouted.
"Yes mistress".
"If you fail to respond or loose count we will start over again. Ed, give
her about thirty seconds between lashes to give the slave time to respond. Go
ahead.
The first blow crashed across the small of Pooch's back and hurt more than any
of the previous cuts but she had something to concentrate on other than the
pain. She did reflexively scream but collected herself to say "One. May I
please have another, harder one". She started crying.
"Remember Ed, she asked for a harder one".
"I'll do my best to oblige my lovely pain junky". He struck with all
his might. Blood started to ooze from spots that the strap had overlapped.
Pooch fought to keep control.
"Two. May I please have another, harder one", she sobbed.
By the fifteenth stroke Pooch's back was a raw, bloody, inflamed mass that might
have gone through a butchers mechanical meat tenderizer. Blood was running down
her sides and dripping on the floor. Her face was wet and swollen from crying
and her throat was hoarse from screaming.
"I think that will be enough for tonight", intoned Marla as she wiped
her slimy hand on the chair arm. "I don't think she really feels it
anymore, and I went her coherent for court. Why don't you put that giant ice
bag on her back to keep down the swelling and you and I will go for a
nightcap".
"Good idea" said Ed. He left to get the bag.
When he returned Pooch was screaming once again as Marla massaged tea tree oil
into her open cuts. "I know this hurts dear, she said, but it's amazing
stuff.
You'll thank me for it later. I got it just for you". Marla finished the
back rub and Ed threw the saddle blanket sized ice bag over Pooch's back.
