Pooch's Story
Part 8 The Infirmary (II)
It was late Saturday night. Marla was sprawled on the reclining chair content in
her nakedness. The wine was making her sleepy and she wondered if it might be
best to go back and lie with Ed. She couldn't drag her self away. Here in this
makeshift room she had absolute power, the power of control, of life and death
and she shared that power with no one. Marla once again felt the joy of a child
that had just received the toy she had always wanted and what a toy it was. No
she would stay here with Pooch.
There was still so much to do. It was too bad that the slave had taken so much
abuse in such a short time and now required time to recover. Marla so wanted
to really put her through her passes, to display her to her friends. She
withdrew her right hand from between her legs and wiped the scent over her
upper lip and nose. Marla liked the way she smelled. Marla liked almost
everything about herself. She licked her hand savoring her own taste. What a
lucky cunt Pooch is, she thought, to have me as her mistress, to have intimate
contact with this body. Though she too was naked the slave did not share
Marla's feelings of joy and contentment. She still didn't know where she was or
what day or time it was. She was becoming increasingly uncomfortable from being
locked into the same position for so long. Her body hurt from the myriad of
beatings it had been forced to endure. Her bladder demanded release. Strangely
enough her hands felt quite normal, though somewhat sticky from blood she
assumed. She didn't understand that. Continually tormenting her was the fear of
the next wave of shocks from the healing machine. As long as the device was
buried in the tunnel to her womb there could be no peace.
Pooch's imagination refused to look beyond the time that the machine would come
on again. Marla had said that at first the shocks wouldn't be as strong, but
she also said "on average", so sometimes the level could go really
high even at first. As it became clear that she wouldn't be able to avoid more
sessions she prayed that the machine wouldn't go very high.
"I'd better give you protection before I forget". Marla dragged
herself out of the easy chair and picked up a hard rubber ball gag, that had a
large hole running through the center of it, from the cart holding the
electrical device. "I've heard that in Chile people undergoing
interrogation under electrical torture often bit off their tongues or broke
their teeth. I don't want to take any chances with you, even though I am sure
the shock levels from the healing machine are not nearly as high. Open your
mouth wide".
Pooch opened her jaws wide knowing now with certainty that this sealed her fate.
It was only a matter of time that the dreaded machine would send her back to
hell. Marla forced the ball deep between her teeth with the heel of her hand
before fastening the strap behind the slaves head. The arrangement would protect
Pooch from inadvertent damage while still allowing her to breath through her
mouth.
Of course the hole could see other uses.
"If you remember, after the trial I told you that I would be giving you a
set of rules by which to govern your self. Since these rules will direct all
of your behavior and since you will have to keep them in mind all of the time I
think it would be more appropriate to call them commandments.
After all they come from a divine source, as far as you're concerned, 'me'.
They roughly fall into two categories, overall deportment and bodily control.
I'm sure many of these commandments will be familiar to you, some will be new.
When you break a commandment you will be punished for it. Unlike breaking
those other commandments, the punishment for breaking any of mine will be both
swift and sure. You won't be waiting for an afterlife to pay for your crimes.
There are sixteen commandments now. I reserve the right to add more later. You
will learn these rules of life backwards and forwards. Do you understand so
far?" Pooch nodded her head. "Here are your commandments."
Commandment number one. Pooch will always remember that she is a slave.
Commandment number two. Pooch will obey her superiors commands immediately and
fully.
Commandment number three. Pooch will show enthusiasm in the execution of all
commands.
Commandment number four. Pooch will not show revulsion to a command.
Commandment number five. Pooch will put the welfare of others ahead of her own.
Commandment number six. Pooch will not attempt to conceal wrong doing from her
superiors.
Commandment number seven. Pooch will not try to escape.
Commandment number eight. Pooch will not be clumsy in the performance of her
tasks.
Commandment number nine. Pooch will not lie.
Commandment number ten. Pooch will address others only with respect and finish
each statement with either the word master or mistress.
Commandment number eleven. Pooch will not speak unless instructed to or if a
proper response requires speech. Commandment number twelve. Pooch will not
stare at another with her eyes focused above their waist. Commandment number
thirteen. Pooch will not caress herself.
Commandment number fourteen. Pooch will only defecate as instructed.
Commandment number fifteen. Pooch will only eat as instructed.
Commandment number sixteen. Pooch will only drink as instructed..
"What do these commandments mean?", asked Marla, "let me give you
a rundown and remember for all time that which I tell you now" She was at
her pompous best, helped by the wine. Marla didn't become mean when she was
drunk, she became ostentatious.
"Rule one says that you will always remember that you are a slave. What
does that mean? It means that when you walk up a circular staircase you will
walk on the inside so that you step on a smaller area of the stair and leave
more space for others. When you haven't had a drink in three days and you are
offered one of two glasses of water you take the one less full. It means that
when you are a member of a team you do not joke with the other members because
you are too inferior to them.
Commandment number two, you will obey all commands immediately and fully means
that when you are told to stick your finger down the food processor, while it's
running you will do it without thinking about it and you will jam your finger
in hard to ensure that the whole finger gets chewed up. Remember that it's not
your finger it's mine!!" Marla emphasized the word "mine".
Commandment number three, you will show enthusiasm in the execution of all
commands means that when you are shoving your finger down the food processor
you do it with a smile on your face and convince me that you would like to do
it again. It means that even though seeing me means more pain and humiliation
you will wag your tail and pant in joy whenever you see me" This was
getting to be a bit too overwhelming for the slave. What did she mean by wag her
tale?, and she wasn't having her fingers ground up to please anybody. This was
just crazy.
Commandment number four", Marla went on. "You will show no revulsion.
That is simply that as long as you remember that you are the most revolting
thing in the world, you won't have a problem not showing any. When a turd from
some fat pig is sliding down your throat you will moan with pleasure and accept
it with your eyes wide open.
Commandment number five, you will put the welfare of others ahead of your own
means that in a fire where there is escape for only one of either you or my dog
you will shove the dog through the escape hatch.
Pooch stooped listening to what Marla was saying. It was all too absurd.
There wasn't even any point in listening. All she would do was try and memorize
the commandments and then she would be careful. She remembered that after Marla
had finished her explanation of the sixteen commandments she said that they had
been recorded into her computer and would be replayed over and over to her, as
long as she was in here so that when she left the infirmary the commandments
would be a part of her being.
Contrary to what Marla had said the intense stress along with all the physical
abuse that she had suffered , was making Pooch very tired and her mind began to
wander. The sleeping draught that Marla had added to her food didn't help
either. Pooch dozed off.
After what only seemed like a minute she felt a strong pulse in her tortured
cunt.
No it can't be. Pooch sprang fully awake. It can't be happening again. Her
insides tightened up as hard as they could to try and fight of the growing buzz.
It did no good because the buzz grew a lot stronger than her insides. Pooch
began to pull at her restraints, quickly the struggle became violent. She
pulled against the padded cuffs with all her strength not caring if she
succeeded in breaking the cuffs or ripping of her own hands. Neither would
break. She thrashed her thighs against the block trying to dislodge it, to no
avail. The current kept rising slowly but without pause. A scream squeezed its
way through the hole in the ball gag. A scream that just grew louder and higher
pitched. It was a hysterical cry for help. The current leveled off. For half a
minute it just kept pounding her, no mercy, no compassion. Pooch wished for the
comfort of blackness but Marla had calibrated the machine well. The blackness
never came only pure searing pain. And then nothing. The slave had no idea how
long the current had fried her insides but it felt like it had been on forever.
Pooch swore to herself that she would not fall asleep again. It took twenty
minutes for Pooch to settle back down to state that had some resemblance to
normal. She began to notice the pitch blackness and the absolute quiet. It
weighed heavily on her heart. No good could come of it.
And then out of the void came Marla's voice.
"Seems like you didn't pay much attention to commandment number 7. You
tried to escape and I am going to have to punish you again. As a general rule,
when you try to run away from something you will receive an extra large dose of
whatever it was that you were running away from". The sound of Marla's
voice in combination with the cruel words scared Pooch to the point where her
heart rate jumped back to the same level it was at during the electrical
shocks.
She knew what was coming. "Please God don't let this be happening ",
Pooch preyed. She was preying to a God that she believed in less and less. She
was losing one of her last sources of strength, at least with God she had never
been truly alone.
"I'm afraid that I am going to have to shock you now and since it is a
punishment it will be at a higher level and a longer time. I suggest you lie
there and take it this time or we'll have to do it again".
Even before she could absorb the words Pooch felt the punch of the current hit
her birth canal then her anus. Marla quickly turned the transformer to the
highest level she had calibrated to. The slave had no control of her body as it
thrashed around wildly limited only by the strong straps securing it to the
block. Her mind was no longer cluttered by the impurity of though. There was
only the electricity.
Then just before losing consciousness the current stooped.
Pooch heard Marla say, "ONE!", and then the power went on again. Marla
simply turned it back to the same level. There was one additional effect.
Pooch now lost her faith in any God. There would be no one to save her and she
would no longer look. Pooch was on her own. and her loneliness was indeed
profound.
"Two".
This time Marla turned up the current to 10% less than before but kept it there
until the slave passed out.
Smelling salts jolted Pooch back to consciousness. Only to hear the voice of her
torturer.
"If I were you I would be very careful not to create even the appearance
that you would like to escape. I consider attempts at freedom, even those that
just try to avoid a punishment or task to be very serious offenses indeed. I am
going to turn on the machine one more time but before I do I want you to tell me
that you promise not to try and escape again, ever, for any reason." The
slave had no choice , meekly she nodded her head and surrendered the rest of her
life to the hated Marla.
This time Marla took her time raising the current, she would make Pooch suffer
for a long time. She didn't want this lesson soon forgotten. Marla kept her in
agony for a full twenty minutes raising and lowering the current to maximize
the suffering without making her loose consciousness. Pooch would have done or
promised anything to make her stop but all she had the ability to do was take it
and hope that she would pass out. She didn't.
When the current finally stopped all that was left was the shell of a human
being. She had no strength, no desires, no will and no thoughts. Pooch just lay
there.
Marla was disappointed in the state of her slave. It would mean that Pooch would
probably not react fully to what she was about to do to her next. Steve, the
plastic surgeon, had prepared a large quantity of a histamine solution in
combination with bee venom. This was to be injected into her breasts not for the
sake of cruelty but to facilitate the major project of reshaping her drudge.
The fact that it would cause intense pain itching and discomfort was merely a
bonus. The solution would be used to make her breasts swell and stretch the skin
prior to augmentation surgery. Steve would need all the extra skin because Marla
wanted Pooch's udders to be obscenely large. Maximum sized implants would be
inserted behind her pectoral muscles were the bags would not be damaged by
whipping or binding then the breast itself would be built up using the slaves
own fat removed from either her belly or thighs or hips wherever she tended to
deposit fat the most. In the future weight gain would occur in her tits rather
than hips or belly making it easier to maintain a slim figure with huge bags.
Part of the preparation would be to fatten her up so she would lay down fat
deposits. Feedings would become increasingly large and frequent. After she
healed, lactation would be induced to further increase breast size and weight
as well as nipple size and sensitivity. One of Pooches duties would be to
produce enough milk to supply cream and cheese for Marla's own household as
well as those of her friends. "I hope you recover soon ", Marla said
in a mocking tone. "Don't think that I will ever forget your attempt to
free yourself. I will remember this and hold it against you the rest of your
miserable existence and you can be sure that it will be my purpose to make your
life more miserable. I think that the injections that I will now give to your
udders will be a major step in increasing your misery. These injections contain
poisons, about which there is no need for you to know, They will cause your
sacks to swell until you are sure the skin will split like the crust of a loaf
of french bread, split in several place. This won't be the worst thing. The
needles I will use are 3" and I will use the entire length of the needle.
When I want to inject fluid into the left side of your bag I will start the
needle on the right and push it through. An injection to the base of the tit
will be started at the top. This will also provide a path for fluid along which
to disperse throughout the entire udder. The needles have been dulled so that
they hurt like hell as they pass through the flesh . This still won't be the
worst. The worst thing, I am told, is the deep, constant and intense itch. An
itch that will again drive you out of your mind. The fact that I am going to
inject the fluid at 120 degrees will just speed the desired effect.. Don't you
DARE!!!! move a muscle to try to pull your bags away from my hands or the
needle. Remember that I can always make things much, much worse and I don't
believe that you want to feel anything worse, but if you insist then I will
oblige. Don't forget enthusiasm, there should be signs of eagerness to have your
udders speared,. get a smile on your puss and raise your head. You will become
far more valuable to your mistress because of this. You do want to be more
valuable to your mistress don't you?" Pooch smiled and nodded her head the
response was automatic.
"Don't forget that when I say your udders I'm only using the word
"your" as a convenience of speech. Those things dangling from your
chest belong to me and soon they will go to work for me as your main attraction.
You will be some freak." Marla was drunk and full of herself but her words
had the ring of truth.
"Lift and push forward so I can easily grab those things".
The slave did as she was told her breasts now dangled down free no longer
resting against the front of the box. Marla grasped and examined her right tit
pulling and twisting to get a better view of the damage. "It looks like
these are healing as they should. You could be on duty in three or four days.
You can thank your lucky stars that these injections are not going through your
nipples this time. I am going to give them a chance to recover a while. You can
bet that in future your nipples will be the primary entry point. Now lets
begin." Marla cupped the underside of Pooch's right breast with her right
hand, pushing the tit toward the slaves face, and placed the sharp tip of one
of the huge 30cc syringes at the base of the underside and slowly pushed the
needle through the skin and straight in the direction of the underside of the
nipple. Marla didn't release any of the poison as the tip partially cut and
partially ripped its way through the breasts flesh in the direction of Pooch's
face. When the full 3 inch length of the needle had been inserted Marla slowly
and steadily began injecting the poisonous fluid 3cc at a time. She would
inject the fluid then pull well back on the needle, anywhere from one to two
inches, point it in a new direction and then push it all the way in again before
releasing another 3cc of fluid. Each needle felt like ten and in this way the
entire core of Pooch's udder would be filled with the poison. Marla's technique
in pulling out twisting and then shoving the needle back into the breast could
only be described as clumsy and course. Marla never knew where the needle tip
would end up. Twice the needle broke back outside through the skin and had to
be pulled back, but this wasn't of any concern to Marla, after all she didn't
feel a thing. Each tit was eventually filled with a half cup of fluid or four
syringes worth. There were fourty needle channels and fourty pockets of venom in
each udder.
For Pooch the injections that signaled the beginning of a new outward appearance
were also met by a new system of thought, indeed even a new consciousness. Time
was no longer marked by the hands of a clock but by the streaming of pain. The
previous markers that had been so important like schedules to be met, places to
be at, people that had to be seen, chores that had to be done, the passage of
night and day, all once important just didn't exist any more. There was no more
night and day, nothing that had to be done and no one but Marla to commune with
and even at that it was really only a one way communication. Even her bodily
functions were controlled by her keeper on a time table that changed
constantly. Pain, however, was an ever present companion. Some was long
lasting, some was sharp but brief, some faded from being agonizing to being
pleasant, even producing a glowing sensation. Slowly, maybe because physical
escape was impossible, Pooch began to experience pain in it's purest state,
almost as if she was an observer of the pain and not really the one that it was
being inflicted upon. The pain in her udders was very real and included every
kind of sensation. There had been the endlessly repeating sting of the needle
followed by a burning sensation as the fluid entered and mixed with her flesh.
The chemical fire felt every bit as hot as had the red hot needles that had
pierced her tits such a short while ago and which still caused continuos
discomfort. Then there was the sensation of swelling and her skin being pulled
apart from the inside by her own expanding flesh ready to split open like over
ripe watermelons. That was the size she pictured her udders to be, watermelons.
Sweat covered her entire body. Fever, sometimes accompanied by delirium was an
unfortunate byproduct of the injections.
Gradually the burning began to subside only to be replaced by a dull throbbing
ache which only increased the tearing sensation on her skin. This was pain that
would be with her right up until her appointment with the surgeon. One final
element was still to be added to the hell that was her udders. It was the itch.
The itch began a couple of hours after the injections. At first it was masked
behind the throbbing pain and even shortly after it became noticeable it was
only another small irritation; but the intensity kept increasing a bit like the
current from the healing machine, except that this time it didn't shut of after
a few minutes. This was not a common itch that occurs on the skin surface, be
it from a mosquito bite or chicken pox or Poisson Ivy. This itch came from deep
inside and even brushing her udders up against the side of the box provided no
relief. Pooch tried everything to obtain relief. She tried swinging her bags
through the air for a while then she tried swinging them up towards her face
and then pulling back so that they hit against the front side of the box. She
kept doing this not because it got rid of the itch, it didn't, but because the
pain inflicted on her bloated milk sacs was paralyzing but for a while it
killed the itch.
She would have probably kept on doing this if Marla hadn't walked in and asked
her why she was trying to escape the itch when she had so recently felt the
consequences of a similar action. This was the most horrifying question Marla
could have asked her. Either she had to admit to trying to escape the itch or
lie to Marla even though she knew that Marla would know it was a lie. She had
been much too obvious. There was no response she could make. Pooch went blank
and froze....................................... "Darling", Marla
broke the silence and addressed Pooch in a contemptuous tone, "I see that
you are a slow learner. I don't know if it's stubbornness or stupidity but it
doesn't really matter. Either way you will become more observant of the rules.
I am going to do something this time that I might never do again. I am going to
let you off with a warning, but if I see you do anything similar to what you
were just doing again I will make sure that you wished you were dead. Do I make
myself clear?" All that the petrified slave could do was nod that she
understood. She would have to bear the unbearable in silence and stillness.
She heard the sound of Marla's heels approach and once again cringed in morbid
dread.
Marla squatted beside her property and grasped her slave's right bag in both
hands. Steve had told her all about what would happen, how they would turn red
and swell till only the tightness of the skin would retard further expansion.
He had told her that the irritation from the venom and histamine would bring on
unbearable itching that would last for days. She was warned that any rough
handling of the udders at this time could cause severe splitting leaving large
scars that he may not be able to hide. Marla could feel the tightness of the
skin. The temptation to squeeze and twist was almost to great to resist. The
doctor had been correct about everything. Steve had supplied Marla with a
bucket of "Bag Balm" from an agricultural supplier. This was a lanolin
cream used in the care of dairy cattle but would work fine on a cow like Pooch.
It would keep the skin soft and moist protecting it from cracking. Marla
scooped out a handful and slathered it over the mammary glands. For a short
time Pooch reveled in how nice this gentle attention felt Marla's hands felt
soft and supportive, taking some of the weight that had up to now been born by
her ribs and shoulders. The lotion felt cool and soothing on her skin. Pooch
let out a sigh of contentment. Such a short time ago being handled by another
woman, in such a manner would have been revolting to her. Now it didn't
matter.
The only important thing was that there was some brief relief before being
returned to her world of pain.
"You realize that any time you spend in the infirmary comes at a great cost
to me. Not only do I loose your use but I have to take care of your health
needs, your feeding and your waste. I almost become a slave to you. I'm going
to make sure that I get paid back for all my trouble. You will be pulling a lot
of extra duties after getting out of here. Now I have to go clean out your
shit. Do you suppose I enjoy that? You will pay." With that Marla dropped
Pooch's udders and went to retrieve her enema equipment. Marla returned with a
plastic bucket which had a rather odd looking plastic contraption on the top
that resembled a curvaceous urinal. She also had a very large syringe, similar
to a douche syringe and a hose that had a rubber sack surrounding it a half
foot from one end and a box with differently sized nipples on the other end.
Still in a bit of a snit over nurse maiding Pooch Marla kicked her prisoner in
the thigh then ordered her to spread her cheeks as wide as her restraints would
allow to expose her shit hole. Marla then shoved the tube into Pooch's mouth
through the hole in her gag, beyond the rubber pouch.
This was for lubrication. Quickly the rubber was pulled out of her mouth and
pushed into Pooch's waiting anus until the bag was also inside. Marla then
attached a inflation bulb to one of the available nipples on the box . Pumping
it inflated the rubber bag in the slaves rectum sealing in any contents. Marla
inserted the end of the catheter, leading from Pooch's bladder, onto another
small nipple and released the clamp. Immediately her overfilled bladder
released its load of urine through the tube and right into her own rectum. The
two sensations were both pleasant. Pooch had been waiting to pee for hours and
the warm fluid filling her rectum was soothing as well. Her owner had no
intention of keeping this procedure pleasant. Marla filled a 32 oz syringe with
ice water that was in the bucket. After making sure that Pooch's bladder was
empty she pulled the catheter off the nipple and attached it to the end of the
syringe. Now the flow of fluid would be into Pooch's bladder instead of out.
Marla applied steady hard pressure on the syringe propelling cold water along
the tube. The pleasant relief our heroin had been feeling changed first to a
cold shock and then the serious feeling that her bladder would explode. Her
lower abdomen bulged out. Pooch had to pull away from the block as much as she
could. The pressure still kept building. Pooch swore she could feel her bladder
begin to rip. She began to scream hysterically, but Marla's cold heart was
unaffected. If anything she was especially glad that this procedure was so
painful.. Pooch should suffer for making her take care of the slaves elimination
needs. Marla only stopped when the syringe was empty and then quickly clamped
the tube shut.
"I think you can hold this for a while", Marla said. "It will do
you good. First it will rinse your bladder nice and clean and second it will
stretch it a little bit. That way you won't have to pee so often." This was
another pain like Pooch had never felt before. There had been so many new
brutalizations over the past few hours. The need for her pee sack to explode
was so great she could feel nothing else, yet she stayed still and waited. She
waited for her new masters pleasure. She stayed still because she knew the
consequence of doing otherwise. She remembered Marla's words that no matter how
bad something felt it could be made to feel much worse. Pooch understood how
true these words were.
In no rush Marla reconnected the catheter back to the hose assembly that lead
into the slaves bowels and released the clamp. To help the flow along Marla put
her arms around her slave, like in a very low bear hug, made a fist with her
right hand and with the help of her left hand holding the fist she shoved it as
hard as she could into the tortured bladder. Pooch almost lost what little mind
she had left. Marla smiled.
This procedure was repeated two more times. By the time the third quart of water
was draining from her bladder into her bowel it seemed that the pressure at
both ends was almost the same. For safety there was a one way valve that
prevented any filthy fluid in her colon from backing up into the bladder. With
the help of her mistress' fist it was emptied for the last time and the
catheter sealed shut. Pooch knelt there, her guts cramping, belly distended as
if pregnant.
She awaited her owners will.
Her owner thought it might be a good time to put the front end of her slave to
use again. She wheeled her chair so that it was right in front of Pooch's head
and then removed her gag.
Slumping in the chair Marla placed her feet on her chattel's back digging the
spike heels into the slaves sides. Just like spurs she thought. Her ass hole
moved right to Pooch's waiting mouth. "Since I am now taking care of your
toilet it seems like a good time for you to start learning your new duties as
my personal lavatory. You will mine my ass hole with your tongue. To you my shit
is like gold. and my piss is like the nectar of the gods. Never give me reason
to think other wise.
When I am totally empty then I will drain you.." Pooch was actually eager
to start. This would help take her mind of her other troubles and she so had to
expel the contents of her own colon. She had no doubts about her ability to
perform this foul chore, not after what she had done during the trial. Marla
relaxed her tight bud allowing Pooch's tongue to slide inside. The stimulation
of her toilet's tongue felt very pleasant but it triggered a reflex causing
her bowels to begin emptying. A large, smelly turd slid out of Marla's ass and
straight into the mouth of the waiting toilet. Unlike what had happened before
when the people shitting into her mouth had squeezed off the feces into
manageable mouthfuls Marla had just released the whole thing. Pooch was stuck
with the log extending from the back of her throat to well outside of her
mouth.. If she bit it off the end outside of her mouth would drop to the ground
and she didn't even want to think about the consequences if that happened.
"Hurry up I have more." Pooch's mind raced for a solution. She pushed
the turd up to the roof of her mouth with her tongue. A piece small enough to
swallow separated. "Mmmmm", the slave exclaimed as she tried to get
it down her gullet without gagging. She remembered about having to show
enthusiasm. The piece of shit slid down her throat. Pooch sucked more into her
mouth and repeated the new procedure. As soon as she had finished with the
first Marla positioned her ass hole and this time intentionally pushed. This
piece was of much softer consistency and not nearly as large. It was followed
by a copious release of gas. It stung Pooch's lungs. She held her breath. Out
of no where two knives sunk into Pooch's sides, just above her hips.
Marla had dug in her heels. Only superhuman effort stopped Pooch from screaming
and spitting out her precious cargo. She did inadvertently deeply inhale.
"When I give you the gift of my farts you will show appreciation. Next
time you will try to inhale every last molecule. Don't you dare ever try to
insult my gift by holding your breath again." With that the pressure from
her heels eased. Pooch got back to being a toilet.
After swallowing the last bit of her mistress's feces Pooch cleaned her own
mouth using her tongue and copious saliva. This was to make sure no shit was
transferred to Marla's ass from her mouth as she licked it clean. The last
step was to cup Marla's pussy tightly with her lips transforming her mouth into
her owners urinal. Maybe because of all the wine she had consumed, Marla was
indeed generous with her flow. Before finishing she told Pooch to use the urine
to rinse out her mouth before swallowing. "I heard that it makes an
excellent antiseptic mouth wash," she added. She finished her toilet by
wiping her snatch in her slaves short hair.
The gag was replaced and the plastic bucket with the top molded to encase her
slaves as was positioned to accept the contents of Pooch's intestines.
"Squeeze your shit hole tight until I tell you to release," she was
told.
Marla then released the air out of the plug and yanked the tube out. It was
again forced into Pooch's mouth through the hole in the gag, so that it could
be tongue washed. "All right, you can release." A torrent of
yellow-brown fluid gushed from Pooch's gapping anus, along with small chunks.
Again she had a moment of feeling good. Marla wrapped her arms around the
slaves belly and squeezed to encourage complete evacuation. She didn't want to
wait around for the emptying any longer than she had to. It still took several
minutes until Marla was satisfied that all the fluid had been moved out.
The bucket was then moved so that it rested just below the slaves head. Marla
thought it best that she get used to the odor. Just one more thing remained on
the agenda before Marla could return to Ed for some sleep. It was now early
Sunday morning. Her computer had been moved into the room. In its memory was a
recording of each of the sixteen commandments. Each commandment was a separate
file allowing them to be played back through the computer in any order. The
choice was made to continuously play back the commandments in random order.
This way Pooch would learn them better this way. The playback would be
continuous.
As Marla turned out the light and left the room Pooch heard: "Commandment
number four. Pooch will not show revulsion to a
command".............................
"Commandment number one. Pooch will always remember that she is a
slave"..........................
"Commandment number thirteen. Pooch will not caress
herself"...................................
At 7AM Marla and Ed were awakened by the sound of Pooch's screams. The healing
machine had come on. They rolled over and tried to go back to sleep. Marla had
the satisfaction of a job well done.
