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This story is a work of fiction and care was taken - no letters
were hurt when they were placed on the page.


Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of my
imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual
events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely
coincidental.


Every story I write contains sexual situations between adult
females and young girls between 5 and 16 years old. These stories
should not be read by anyone who is either not old enough to do
so or who would be offended if they did.  Most if not all of the
stories I write contains explicit pornographic material; it is
not for minors under the age of 18 or close-minded people.


Any characters, places, businesses and/or circumstances etc.
described herein are entirely fictional and are a product of my
imagination.  None of the following is based on real organisms or
organizations, and any semblance to anyone or anything real,
living, deceased or imaginary, is purely coincidental. There is
no place called Cherish Valley in the United States that I am
aware of.


I write stories for my own enjoyment.  I write stories in which
adult women are degraded, humiliated, and fucked by young girls.


If this story seems to be better edited that is because I have a
wonderful male editor who at times adds just the right amount of
detail into the story line.  If there are any remaining mistakes
in the story as far as grammar or punctuation, then it is my
error and not his.  Thanks "A", you're wonderful.

I also want to thank several readers with whom I have become
"email friends" and my one "cutie".  Your ideas keep me going and
energizes me.


Author's advisory: All these stories that I write about are for
adults only. If you're under-aged or of a closed mind and you
read my stories, your teeth will rot and all your hair will fall
out! This stuff is too mature and sophisticated for you.

Anyone who is an adult or age of majority, of course, is welcome
to continue.

Email me with your comments at: msteven1005@yahoo.com

I reply to readers who take time to email me.


Puppy Girl Competition 5

The first weekend:

Here it is, Sunday evening and I'm standing in my walk-in closet
with my neck tied to the clothes bar with red yarn, my blouses
and dresses and skirts hanging on the same bar that I am tied
too.  The strange thing was that my wrists weren't handcuffed
behind me and neither were my ankles.  I am standing here with my
chin above the bar, with my arms at my sides and my feet
together, the yarn wound tightly around the bar and my neck so I
can't move.  I am ashamed and embarrassed but not because I'm
neck tied in my closet. I am ashamed and embarrassed that after
four days of puppy girl training, my twelve year-old daughter
trusts me enough not to secure my wrist and ankles; after all, I
am supposed to be the parent.  But now that I think about it, I
am also secretly excited that after four days of training that I
allow my daughter to touch me and humiliate me in ways that I
would have never thought of. Which is why, I guess, my cunt is so
wet and I can feel cunt cream coating my inner thighs.

As I think back over the weekend I'm like a woman who wakes up
with a massive hangover in the morning after a night of drinking,
not realizing how she got home or what she did but knowing she
did stupid things in front of her friends and strangers.  She
lays in her bed suffering through the hangover, not wanting to
remember the embarrassing things she did last night, hoping to
avoid her friends for a couple of days, hoping that somehow it
will all blow over.  That's the way I feel now.  Things we did
during team practices this weekend like the team practice with
Cindy, Mary, Barb, and Maggie, like fetching tennis balls,
barking like dogs, eating and drinking out of dog dishes.

I shift my weight back and forth trying to find a proper stance,
keeping my arms at my side.  It is a real struggle not to reach
up and untie the yarn and tell my daughter that I have had
enough.  But Angie is upset with me because I had gotten upset at
my husband Bill, her father.  She explained that it was my fault
for the predicament that I was in and that she had great faith
and trust in my ability to handle my punishment without tying my
wrists and ankles together.  That had stopped me for a moment; my
anger at Bill had subsided as I realized that my daughter was
proud of me.  Well, he's still a bastard!

**

It started Saturday morning when he announced to Angie that he
was going into the office for most of the day.  I was standing
upstairs holding my morning pee and poop waiting for him to leave
so I could go to the backyard and take care of my business.  He
has never been to the office on a weekend, ever and I wondered
what was up.  Angie and her father were laughing and talking in
the kitchen and I was jealous so I returned to Angie's bedroom
and stood there.  I guess I could have sat on the bed but Angie
did say the other day that sitting on the furniture was off
limits to me, plus I didn't want to get punished.

After what seemed like an hour Bill finally went out to the
garage and I could hear the garage door opening.  Angie came up
the stairs.

"Here, pet, come on girl!" my twelve year-old daughter yelled
out, slapping her thigh.

I still hated the word "pet" and "dog" but this was all in the
spirit of the competition so I tolerated it.  I walked out to the
hallway.

"Oh good, there you are!" my daughter cooed.  Her saying that
sounded so corny to me.  "Daddy said that he would back later
this afternoon.  We have a lot of training to do today and
tomorrow."

I nodded my head.  I was learning that a good mother is a quiet
mother.

"You can speak, mother.  Do you have to go pottie?"

"Yes, mistress," I remembered to say.  My daughter wanted to hear
the word "mistress" when I addressed her which didn't bother me
too much, but being asked if I had to go pottie like I was some
child, now that burned me. Burned and strangely aroused me.

"Good, but first you have to put your puppy girl uniform on.  My
pet must be properly attired when she goes poop and pee outside!"
Angie smiled as she walked down the hallway towards the bathroom.

I shrugged my shoulders and walked back into her bedroom where my
"uniform" was.  It wasn't much of a uniform really: two knee pads
that looked like dog paws; two arm sleeves that came up to my
elbow and had dog paws that my hands fitted into; two straps for
my legs so that my ankles could be clipped to my thighs; and my
new doggie tail that we were issued yesterday and which was
actually made out of my hair. In addition to all this, there was
my dog collar and leash, and the two mouth pieces that keep my
mouth open like a dog's so I could slobber properly.  That was my
uniform.  It took me a good ten minutes to get everything on, but
the tail was more difficult - I still hadn't managed to figure
out how to slide that damn into my ass.  Fuck! I had my mouth
pieces in so I couldn't even pick-up my tail with my mouth.  I
sat back and pondered my situation.  I sure as hell didn't want
to get punished this early in the day.

I picked up my tail as best I could and slipped it between my
thighs.  I figured that as I crawled down the hallway on my hands
and knees it should stay as long as I didn't move my thighs
apart. I crawled into the hallway looking for my daughter.  With
my mouth pieces in, I was slobbering and by the time I got to the
bathroom, the hair on my tail was tickling my crotch.

No, I thought, crotch wasn't the right word: Angie wanted me to
use the word cunt. I had resisted at first, but now it made me
wet. I was suddenly aware, there in the hallway, dressed
obscenely like a slobbering dog, how much my training was
changing me. I had agreed to help her win the Puppy Girl
Competition, was willing to put up with the dreadful humiliation
because she was my daughter and I loved her. But now I felt the
stirrings of something else inside me, something that battled
against my regular self. I realised that it had awakened a deeper
need, something darker: that a part of me wanted to degrade
myself for her; that humiliating myself for my twelve year old
daughter aroused me; that I wanted to be her pet, her bitch, her
cunt.

 Angie was sitting on the toilet and she smiled as I crawled into
the bathroom.

"Sit!" she ordered me by pointing her index finger at me. "Can't
get your tail into your rear-end?"

I did a throaty bark, "Arf!" and my face burned red. When in
uniform I was supposed to respond like a dog.

I quickly sat back on my toes and tucked my wrists under my
breasts; no, tits, another word that my daughter wanted me to
use.  I must have looked stupid because my slobber was dripping
on my tits just as intended, and my tail dropped down on the
floor.

"Come here Baby Girl and turn around," Angie said gently.  She
leaned over off the toilet seat and reached for my tail.  I
realised at once what she was going to do, and my cunt oozed in
anticipation. I turned around with my rear-end facing her.  "Hold
still!" she ordered as she grabbed my waist with her left hand. 
I heard her collect spit in her mouth and then I felt a
delicious, warm wetness on my anus as she has spat on it.  Next I
felt the slim shoe horn end of my tail touch against the ring of
muscle, and then slip slowly inside.

Ah fuck! It hurt, stretching me. Angie spat again and worked the
tail deeper into me.  After a minute or so of me squirming on my
hands and knees and my daughter working the end of my tail into
me, I felt the shoe horn part slip snugly into my anus.  It
actually felt quite good.  The flat smooth part of the horn
actually seemed like it was part of my ass muscles and when I
flexed my anus, it sent a thrill through me.

I heard a plop into the toilet bowl and my heart rate went up and
a shot of adrenaline coursed through my stomach.  Hearing a turd
drop into a toilet bowl is like music to my ears, especially my
daughter's turds. I looked round at her, my face flushed, my eyes
staring down to her ass.

"I want you to go out and come back in wagging your tail looking
like you're pleased to see me!"

I blushed a little knowing that she saw my excitement at hearing
her drop a turd into the toilet bowl.

I went out to the hallway, took a deep breath, wagged my tail and
went back into the bathroom.  I bounded up to my daughter who
hadn't moved.  I was wagging my tail back and forth, and my tits
were swinging back and forth in tune with my ass muscles.  Angie
reached out with both hands and cupped me behind the ears and
scratched me.

"Good girl, Baby Girl is such a good doggie for her mistress."  I
wagged my tail back and forth and slobber dripped out of my
mouth.  "Each time you're in your uniform with your tail on you
must be completely happy to see me.  I want to see enthusiasm in
your movements.  Just like a real dog will show affection for its
mistress, you must show me real affection.  If you don't show
your mistress or the other mistresses on the team proper
affection and enthusiasm when in uniform, well, let's not think
about that."

I wagged my tail some more even though my ass cheeks were hurting
and she was right, I didn't want to get punished for not being
affectionate enough.

For a moment, I heard her breath stop, and then she grunted
quietly; another turd plopped into the toilet bowl.  Fuck I
wanted to look into the toilet so badly. I breathed in deeply,
trying to catch her dark aroma.

Angie sat back on the toilet then reached over and picked up her
mobile device.  It had beeped at her.  She looked at the screen
and smiled then looked at me.

"Did you want to go to the mall today, Baby Girl? Because the
Intercourse young girls varsity hanging team is putting on a
demonstration.  They're gonna have the synchronized air dance
team and they're gonna show mothers and their daughters how to
get started in the joys of hanging."

"Arf!" I replied and wagged my tail.  Fuck, yes, I wanted to go
to something like that!  Watching an adult woman struggle at the
end of noose while a young girl controlled the ultimate act of
life and death excited me no end.  I eagerly wagged my tail some
more. The tail seemed to have settled into me, and I felt
sensations of pleasure in my rectum when it moved back and forth.

"Good, I thought you might want to go.  I know it turns you on."
She paused. "It turns me on also" She blushed a little when she
said that which was cute.  I wondered if it was a slip of the
tongue, if she hadn't meant me to know that, but I had found out
more and more, over the past weeks, of what turned Angie on.

Angie stood up without wiping her anus of her poop smear, if
there was a smear, and as she walked past me, I could just
faintly smell of her rear-end. I had a sudden, crazy image of me
as a dog, running up behind her, sticking my wet nose between her
little cheeks, and sniffing, licking... Fuck, perhaps all this
training was working better than I thought. I took a quick look
in the toilet bowl:  two lovely turds floated in yellow water,
smooth and elegantly proportioned. Gawd how I wanted to taste
them! I thought, and then gasped, shocked at myself. Was that
what I really wanted, to taste my daughter's shit? I know I had
fantasised about it for a long time, masturbated thinking about
it, but now it suddenly seemed more real, more possible. I felt
moisture seeping from my cunt, and blushed.

Suddenly, I felt a familiar feeling in my own bowels and it
occurred to me that it had been some days since I last used the
toilet. As if she had read my mind, Angie called to me from the
hallway.

 "Come on, Baby Girl, let's go poopie!"

I frowned and shrugged my shoulders.  She didn't have to put it
like that did she?

I trotted out to the hallway and down the stairs.  Angie was in
the kitchen as I came bounding in wagging my tail, slobber
dripping from my mouth.  Angie was wearing a one-piece denim
dress that had a "V" neck down to her belly button.  I could just
make out her small budding breasts under the material.  The denim
dress came to mid-thigh.  I know she wasn't wearing any panties
because she didn't have any on when she left the bathroom.

I sat back on my toes with my wrists tucked under my breasts in
front of her with an eager look on my face.  "Good dog, now do
your business," she smiled as she opened the kitchen door to the
backyard.

I bounded outside as she closed the door behind me, looking
around the yard to make sure that nobody could see me.  I crawled
over to the far end of the yard and sat back spreading my legs. 
I pushed a little and my pee started and then I felt my poop
sliding down to my anus.  I grunted again and pushed.

A crazy thought crossed my mind.  I hope my pee doesn't kill the
grass like a real dogs' pee does.  I don't think Bill would like
brown spots on his carefully manicured grass.  Fuck him! Oops,
where'd that come from? I looked towards the house,
automatically, but the only person there was Angie. She was
watching me through the kitchen window, her glazed eyes looking
not at my face but at my squatting butt.

I looked away and pushed some more, knowing that her eyes were
still on me, and felt the poop oozing slowly out. Part of me felt
humiliated, horrified that my twelve year old girl was watching,
but I recognized that look on her face and I felt a jolt of
excitement run through me.

Suddenly, a noise to my right caught my attention and my
sphincter clamped up, and fear creeping into my stomach.  I
looked to my right at the fence and a shadow crossed by on the
other side.  My God, I thought, what am I coming to? I'm
squatting with my thighs spread next to the fence line, and there
are some holes in the fence! It could be my neighbour!  Just then
a nose, a dog's nose, poked through one of the holes.

Oh fuck! It's that fucking Great Dane! I could see the nose of
the Dane working back and forth trying to pick-up whatever scent
was in the air.  I relaxed a little when I realized that the dog
couldn't get into the yard and I went back to pushing my poop
out.  I felt four long pieces drop from my rear-end and then the
last of my pee dripped from my cunt. I glanced quickly at the
kitchen window to see Angie still watching, her position
unchanged. I looked behind me at the neat pile of little rolls of
poop and then over at the fence again; the nose was pushed a
little further through the hole and I could hear the dog sniffing
loudly. Fuck you, you stupid dog! I thought to myself, you aren't
getting in here!  You can abuse those real dog bitches out there
all you want but you're not getting in here.

It was only when I had finished that I realised that I had
nothing to wipe with, and I immediately thought, wonder if I'm
smeared? Again, humiliation washed over me.

I heard the sliding door open and saw Angie standing on the porch
in her bare feet bouncing one of the tennis balls.  She was also
holding a rolled up newspaper.

"Come here, Baby Girl, come on girl!" she smiled and gushed as
she bent over at the waist and called me.  I bounded over to her,
wagging my tail back and forth and trying to put a smile on my
face, but it wasn't easy with those damn mouth pieces in.

"Good doggie, that's my girl!" She reached into my mouth and
pulled out the two mouth pieces. It took me a moment or two to
realise that they had gone and that the ache in my jaw had
stopped, because her fingers distracted me. It wasn't that she
had put them in my mouth, but the taste that lingered on them:
the taste of her cunt.

"We're going to practice a little fetch," she said as she threw
the ball to the far side of the yard.  Trying to clear my head, I
turned and scampered into the yard after it.

Angie yelled, "Stay!" Oh shit, God damn it, I fucked up.

Angie leaned over and swatted my ass with the rolled up
newspaper.  "Bad dog! Bad, bad, doggie!" she said and swatted me
again.  I flexed my ass cheeks and my tail dropped between my
legs.  I moved my rear-end like a real dog as I tried and dodge
the newspaper.

"Damn it Baby Girl, you don't move until I give you the command,"
she said as she swatted my ass again.  "Do you understand?"

"Arf!" I responded with my head hung low.  How could I be so
stupid as to mess up a simple thing like playing fetch with my
daughter.

"You're supposed to mark the ball where it drops, that means you
watch where it goes, then you wait for my command!" Angie said to
me as she looked down at me with her hands on her hips.  "Now
kiss the newspaper and remember that it is not me or this stupid
old newspaper that has caused you pain and humiliation but your
stupidity for not following directions."

I leaned forward and planted a kiss on the newspaper.  There was
shame and humiliation all over that kiss; fuck, there was shame
and humiliation being on my hands and knees in front of my
daughter.

Angie took pity on me and squatted down in front of me.  She
scratched behind my ears and ran her fingers through my hair.  As
she was squatting her short denim dress rode up her thighs and I
purposely hung my head low just so I look between her thighs.  Oh
damn, there it was, the object of my incestuous desires, her
lovely twelve year old hairless cunt.  I squinted my eyes so I
could see just a hint of moisture and dew on her lips. It made my
heart race, knowing she was excited by this. I felt my own
excitement rising, but then I was reminded by the clit clamp on
my cunt; the more excited I got the more vibration the clamp
worked on my clit. I looked up at her face and saw she was
looking at me, knew what I had been looking at, had deliberately
allowed me to do so, and I felt the urge to rub myself raw. She
smiled slowly, and then stood up.

"Fetch!" she said.

For the next fifteen minutes or so, my daughter would throw the
tennis ball into the yard and I would watch where it landed then
I would look at her waiting for the command to fetch. I would
eagerly return with the ball in my mouth and wait for her command
to drop it on the patio or in her hand.  My tail was wagging back
and forth, showing her that I was properly motivated.

Several times she threw the ball over to where to that stupid
Dane was, still sticking its nose and tongue through the hole,
although I don't think she realized that it was there.  That
stupid fuck of a dog could stay on the other side of the fence!

"That's it mother," Angie smiled as I brought the ball to her one
time.  I looked up at her with a quizzical look.  Why did she
call me mother and not Baby Girl?

"Drop!"

I dropped the ball in her hand and looked up at her.  "What?" she
said, arching her eyebrows. "I could have called you bitch." She
smiled as she tossed the ball up and down in her hand.  "My
mother, the doggie bitch!"

I hung my head when she said that.  She dropped the ball on my
head and scooped it up when it bounced off.  "Oh, mother, it's
not that bad! I just like to remind you that you're still my
mother." Then she tossed the ball into the yard again. "Fetch!"

As her mother, and her bitch, I scampered off on my hands and
knees to get the ball.

On the last throw she had me sit and hold the ball in my mouth as
she went inside.  When she came out she had several doggie treats
in her hand.  She walked up to me and leaned over looking down at
me.  "Drop!" was all she said.  I dropped the ball from my mouth
and looked up at her.  She held out her hand with the treats.  I
looked at her hand then back at her.  All the while my damn tail
was wagging.  "Eat!" she ordered.  I leaned forward, stuck my
tongue out and scooped up a treat.  I chewed the dry treat as
quickly as I could before scooping up another from her hand.  All
the while she praised me and ran her hand back and forth through
my page boy hair cut.  Strange thing was, my tail was wagging.

Angie stood straight as I took the third treat from her hand. 
"Come!" and I followed her into the kitchen on my hands and
knees.  I was still chewing the treat when she said that the
training session was over.

"Can I say something?" I asked her as I struggled to take the dog
paws off my hands.

"No you may not mother," Angie said as she sat the kitchen table.
 "Go up stairs and shower and get dressed."

I just nodded my head.  I wanted to ask her if she was pleased
with my enthusiasm but then I thought that if she was not pleased
she would have said so.  As I walked up the stairs Angie yelled
out,  "And wear something sexy, like some of the stuff we picked
out the other day."

I did my best not to rub my clip clamp while I showered.  As I
got out of the shower I remembered the toilet bowl.  I looked
into the toilet and there were her two lovely turds still
floating on the yellow water. I was drying my hair as I leaned
over the toilet, but I put the towel down and licked my lips.

"You like my shit, mother?"

I looked over at the bathroom door.  My twelve year-old was
leaning against the door jamb with her arms folded; I hadn't
heard her walk up the stairs.

"Um, ahh," was all I could reply as I turned several shades of
red and backed away from the toilet.

"Well?" she asked.

"Don't call it shit," I said, quietly, then added, "Mistress."

"It is shit, mother, and you will call it shit also." Her voice
was commanding.

For a moment I forgot my training, and my voice rose. "I'm your
mother, Angie. Please don't call it shit!"

"What did you just call me?" Angie said as she stood up straight
in the bathroom doorway.

Fuck!

"I'm sorry, Ang, um Mistress Angie, but I'm your still your
mother. Please don't call it shit."  I was nervous now wondering
what she was going to do.  Why was I nervous, I thought. Fuck! I
was the adult here and it wasn't practice time.

"Do you want another date with Miss Riding Crop?" Angie asked
threateningly, as she slapped my right ass cheek.

"No mistress." I shrugged my shoulders as I moved away from her a
little bit, just like a child would who doesn't want to get
punished.

"I didn't think so.  Don't fight me on this mother.  You are my
mother but only after the competition is over.  Until then, as I
keep reminding you, you take direction from me.  Do understand?"

"Yes, mistress."

"Now, until you can answer my question about my shit, flush the
toilet.  Kneel in front of the toilet and flush it."

I nodded my head and knelt in front of the toilet.  I raised my
hand to the toilet lever ready to flush it.

"Do you like my shit, mother?"

I thought about it and barely nodded my head.  I was defeated, my
secret was out.

"I thought so, flush the toilet anyway."

I pulled the lever down and let it go.  I watched as the yellow
water and two pieces of shit swirled around in the bowl.

"That wasn't so hard was it, mother? Do you think I didn't know?
Did you think I didn't realise that your little girl's shit
turned you on?" Her tone softened slightly. "Why do you think I
used to wipe and leave the dirty tissue in the waste bin, rather
than flushing it?" She paused, and leaned forward. "I like it,
mother," she said softly. "Maybe next time I will let you play
with my shit, maybe even kiss it?"

I sucked my breath and stared at her, trying to take in her
words.  Fuck, I was embarrassed. I thought it had been my secret,
and she had known, all along. But it wasn't only embarrassment I
felt: she didn't mind; she liked it....

As clean water filled the toilet bowl, Angie stood up and handed
me a plastic baggie, her air of authority returning. "Next time I
ask you a question, I expect you to answer it. Now, go outside
and pick your shit up, mother.  Bring your shit to me because, as
you know, your shit belongs to me.  Now go along."

I stood up taking the bag from her hand and scurried down the
hallway and down the stairs.  When I walked past her I averted my
eyes.  As the parent it felt wrong, but her words still
reverberated in my head, and I felt a sense of shame, about my
guilty not-so secret, and that I was still taking orders from my
twelve year-old. Tears began to well up in my eyes.

I was crying by the time I was in the backyard squatting down
picking up my shit.  That damn Dane was still trying to get
through the hole in the fence.  I tried to wipe the tears from my
eyes as I looked at the fence; it looked like the dog was trying
to chew the hole bigger, but my vision was blurred and I couldn't
really see.  I turned round and walked back to the kitchen
wondering why Angie was doing this to me.

**

I pulled into the parking lot of the mall.  Angie was out the
door as soon as I stopped.  She was very excited about seeing the
hanging exhibition.  So was I but I wasn't going to run into the
mall for it, I mean, I do have a little self-restraint.

As I walked around behind the car to catch-up with her, she
turned, looking over shoulder.  "Hurry-up pet! You must always be
two steps behind me."  It didn't look like she was joking so I
hurried up a little.

Angie waited for me to catch-up.  "Mother, as my pet, you must
always keep up with me.  Dogs should always be behind their
mistress, anticipating her every move."

I cleared my throat as I looked around the parking lot. 
"Mistress, honey, I'm not a dog. I'm your mother when we're not
in a practice session."

Angie looked into the bag that she had around her shoulder.  She
pulled out the flexible metal ruler.  "Don't make me use this on
you, mother. I won't hesitate to use it on you right here in the
parking lot."

"Please, mistress, I'm not a dog," I whined as I stomped my foot
like some child.  I didn't like how this was going.  I just
wanted to be a normal mother for a couple of hours at the mall:
after all that had happened, I needed to be.

"You'd said that you'd be my loyal dog." She waved the metal
ruler in front of her.  "Are you my loyal dog? Even if you not in
your uniform?"

I shuffled my feet and look at the ground and nodded my head.

"Good, you had me worried there for a second, mom."

I looked up and smiled weakly.  "Can I please ask a question,
mistress?"

Angie nodded her head as she put the metal ruler away.

"Um, do I have to call you mistress while in public? I mean,
you're my daughter and it might attract unwanted attention."  I
thought I had made a good point.  If Angie agreed to this while
in public, maybe, I could change her mind about me calling her
mistress at home because at some point I would have to call her
mistress in front of Bill and I wanted to avoid that.

It looked like Angie was thinking about my question when I heard,
"Hi, Kathy and Angie!"

I turned around and there was Mrs Maryann Dack, who was on the
controlling board at the White Redeemer Church.

"Hi, Maryann!" I replied as I smiled at her.

"Hi, Mrs Dack!" Angie replied as she put the metal ruler in her
bag.

Maryann looked me up and down.  I could see disapproval in her
eyes as she looked at how I was dressed.  Before we left the
house I had decided to wear a pink t-shirt that showed off my
mid-riff, no bra.  The t-shirt said, `Little Girl'.  I was
wearing a mini-denim skirt with six inch heels.

"We missed you at the choir practice last Thursday," Maryann said
as she looked at Angie and smiled.  She apparently approved of
what my daughter was wearing.  Angie was wearing the one piece
dress with pink tennis shoes.

"Well, um, we've been busy," I waved my hand at Angie.

"Are you going to be there for tomorrow's sermon?" she asked
haughtily, as she kept looking me up and down.

Angie stepped up.  "Oh, yes, I'll make sure my mother is there!"
she said cheerfully.

Maryann gave me a strange look after Angie had spoken for me.  I
quickly smiled.

As Maryann walked away, she looked over shoulder.  "You will be
there next Sunday for the wedding, won't you?"

Angie and I looked at each other.  "Oh? What wedding is that?" I
asked.

"Cherry Mayfield and Mrs Crystal Mitchell are getting hitched,"
Maryann replied as she walked to her car.

"Mrs Mitchell? I didn't know she was into little girls!" Angie
asked.

"Sure is, they've been dating for the last several months,"
smiled Maryann.

"What about her husband?" I asked.

"What about him?"

I raised my eyebrows and nodded my head.  Yeah, that's true, a
husband's opinion doesn't count when it comes love or even the
marital bed.  I wondered about Crystal's marital bed.  Every
Cherish Valley woman knows the power of the marital bed.  Giving
a little girl the authority over your marital bed was one of the
ultimate submissive acts a woman could do, besides dangling at
the end of rope for a little girl.

As we walked into the mall, with me trailing my daughter by two
steps, Angie stopped suddenly.  She pulled out a piece of paper
and looked at it.  People were coming in and out of the entrance
of the mall where we were standing and I didn't want to question
my daughter just then, so I waited.

Suddenly Angie was off again into the mall and I scurried to keep
up with her.  She stopped outside the store called "The Pet
Stop", a new store that had opened several months ago, which had
all kinds merchandise for pets and humans.  I was disgusted with
the concept of the store when it opened but now, here we were
standing outside it.

"Here," Angie said as she handed me the piece of paper.  It was a
print out.

"What is this, um, mistress?" I whispered to her as I looked at
the paper.  I didn't want anybody to hear me call my daughter
mistress.

"What mom?" Angie looked at me with irritation.

I looked at the list with concern. "Um, well, a dog muzzle?"

"What about it?" replied Angie as she put her hands on her hips.

"That's not part of the uniform," I said as I looked around,
making sure nobody could hear us.

"You're a yellow retriever because of your body type and hair
color, mom, a special dog breed.  This muzzle will help you play
the part of the retriever."

"Still...," I insisted.

"Mom, a dog muzzle is used to train dogs for more socially
acceptable behavior when in public."

I still wasn't convinced.  "What do you mean, socially acceptable
behavior?"

"As my loyal dog, mother, you may end up getting some bad
behavior like jealousy or nipping or biting little hands that
touch you.  Until the school buys some doggie insurance on you,
we can't be too careful!"

"Doggie insurance?" I asked in disbelief.  What the hell?

Angie looked at me.  "Don't fight me on this, mom, you know I'll
win."  She was right.

I looked at the list again:  one five pound bag of dry adult dog
chow; three squeaky chew toys; a Frisbee - what the hell do I
need a Frisbee for; and three rawhide chew bones.  Reluctantly, I
nodded my head as I looked up.

"That's my pet.  Now be quick about it. We don't want to miss the
hanging demonstration.  I'll be sitting over there."

"Yes, mistress," I said, nodding my head again.  I was defeated
and sinking even lower into this competition.  Doggie insurance?
Making sure my behavior is okay?

Ten minutes later I came out of the store with a shopping cart of
the items.  I needed the cart for the five pound bag of dog chow,
the dry kind.  I felt self-conscious as I walked out into the
mall with the way I was dressed.  Kids were giggling at me,
others were pointing and women with kids hurried out of my way. 
I shrugged my shoulders; at least I was dressed; can you imagine
what it would be like if I was naked?

I looked around but didn't see Angie, then I heard.  "Pet, over
here pet!" I cringed when I saw her waving at me vigorously from
the center of the mall.  Several people turned around and looked
at me.  I could have crawled away and died from embarrassment.

As I walked up to Angie pushing my cart, I said, "Do you have to
call me that in public, mistress?" under my breath trying act
cool and all.

My pre-teen daughter looked at me with disgust.  "Aren't you
proud of the fact that I'm your mistress, mom? I mean, we're in
this competition together, you're my pet, my dog, and I'm your
mistress.  I should think that you could stand proudly and tell
everybody that I'm your mistress and that you love serving me?" 
Angie had a serious look on her face.

I was trapped.  If I said no that I was not proud that she was my
mistress, then I would be punished with either a spanking with
that fucking metal ruler or that damn riding crop.  If I said yes
that I was proud she was my mistress, she might make me proclaim
that here in the mall.  Plus, I would be betraying my true
feelings for her, that deep down inside me, buried deep within
me, I truly loved what we were doing in this competition and that
slowly over the several days Angie was teasing my true feelings
to the surface.  I think she knew that I secretly loved being
humiliated.

And it wasn't simply that. I loved the change in her. I loved
that what she was making me do at home and in public seemed to
arouse her as much as it did me; it made me want her,
desperately. But, as the parent and mother, I had to protest my
treatment, I had to put up some sense resistance to the training
program. I mean, it's not natural that a daughter should train
her mother to be a puppy.

I stared back at Angie who was waiting for an answer.  "Yes,
mistress, I am proud of the fact that you are my mistress." I
fidgeted.

"And the other girls on the team, they are your mistresses
right?" she urged as she took my chin in her hand and lifted my
face.

"Yes, mistress, the girls on the team are my mistresses also," I
said, nodding my head.

"Good, so don't make this so hard, pet.  We should be having fun
as mother and daughter at the mall for the day, except that I'm
the mistress and you're the pet.  You follow me around instead."

I nodded my head again.

"Good, let's go and see the hanging exhibition."

We stood along the wall near the middle of the mall.  There was a
huge glass ceiling that let the sunlight in.  There were five
nooses hanging down from a wooden beam and five small stools
under the nooses.  Off to the side was a single noose and stool.
In the background hung a large curtain behind which was the
demonstration team.

The area was crowded with families and kids, but mostly adult
women and young girls as well as a fair number of men and boys. 
The female announcer came out.  I sucked my breath in when I saw
her: she was beautiful, with blonde hair, a short denim skirt
with a white frilly lace on the hem, and a form-fitting white
t-shirt that read "Have Fun, Hang a Woman Today!" She was
carrying a microphone.

"Thank you for coming out today.  The elementary school hanging
demonstration team is excited to perform for you.  Today's
demonstration will be performed by the first grade hanging team
that finished second in last year's Nationals, and we hope that
after today that some of you girls watching this can convince
your mothers to join our hanging team."

There was polite clapping from the audience.

I remembered that.  It was a very controversial competition.  The
Anti-Degradation Feminists, ADF, protested heavily outside the
event and complained to the world media about the dangers of
degrading women.  Nobody paid them much attention, dismissing
them as cranks.  The ADF thought that teaching five and six
year-old girls to have the power of life or death over an adult
woman, much less their mothers, would psychologically damage the
child.  Quite to the contrary, many prominent female
psychologists pushed the idea that five and six year-old girls,
and girls who were older, would learn to appreciate their mothers
more because they were willing to submit themselves to the noose
that was controlled by the girls.  Some of those same female
psychologists willingly submitted themselves to hanging by five
year-olds, just to show the ADF the benefits of hanging.  The
filming of the hangings gained worldwide acceptance.  The five
female psychologists and their young daughters went on worldwide
hanging demonstration tour.

"The first demonstration today is by our third place individual
finisher last year, six year old Lacy and her mother Cassie in
the freestyle air dance."

A little brunette haired girl came out from behind the curtain
wearing a short one-piece black leather dominatrix dress that
came mid-thigh on her.  She was carrying a long riding crop, a
very long riding crop that had at least a fifteen foot whip on
the end.  It reminded me of an old time coach whip that I had
seen in a picture once, of a man sitting on top of carriage with
a long riding crop that had a whip on the end of it.  Pulling the
carriage were six women who were decked out in pony gear.  That
picture was very erotic and the image had stayed with me.

The girl stood a good distance away from the curtain when she
snapped her whip.  To the applause of the audience, her mother
came out from behind it, wearing a short cute white form-fitting
dress and pink slippers, her hair done in a bun on the top of her
head. The six year-old snapped her whip again and her mother
quickly went to the small stool in the middle of the cordoned-off
demonstration area.  Above the stool was a noose hanging down
from a horizontal beam, supported by two other vertical beams. 
The whole thing was on wheels so it could be moved easily.

"Hhhrrruuup!" the girl said as she snapped her whip, curling it
around her mother's waist.  The woman stood up on the stool and
placed the noose around her neck, then tightened it.

"Hhhrrruuueee!" the girl said snapping her whip so the end of it
wrapped around her mother's waist again.  The woman didn't flinch
as she kicked the stool out from under her.  I was wet watching
the woman swing slowly back and forth.  My clit clamp was eating
away at the edge of my mind.  God damn! how I wanted to cum.  I
looked at Angie and she had her hands in the dress pockets doing
a slow rub around her crotch.

The girl snapped her whip, the end of which touched her mother's
stomach.  "Hhhuurrbb!"

The woman lifted her legs and swung them straight out.  Her left
arm went straight out in front of her and her right arm pointed
straight behind her.  The woman's toes were curled as she held
her legs out and I could see her neck muscles straining with her
weight, the noose tight around them.

I looked down and could see the woman's crotch, naked under the
now raised dress. Droplets of moisture clung to her reddened
labia, and I suddenly wondered if she would start to piss. I had
seen other hangings where it had happened and had found it
maddeningly erotic: the first small stain of liquid, expanding
rapidly as it ran down the woman's legs, and then the golden
stream splashing obscenely at her feet, pooling on the floor.
Here, because of the woman's pose, I would be able to watch the
piss spurt from her cunt. My clit clamp vibrated agonisingly. I
glanced at Angie and saw her staring at the woman's crotch, her
hands moving more wantonly in her pockets.

The girl stepped forward with her left foot, leaned slightly and
flicked the whip which curled from her mother's crotch then up
behind her to her lower back. The tip of the whip seemed to graze
against her mother's clit, and the woman's body shuddered.

"Heerep!" the girl said.

Her mother bent her right leg at the knee but kept her left leg
out.  She brought her arms over her head then slowly down to her
side.

The audience clapped.  My cunt was hot and so wet that I felt
moisture on my inner thighs; I needed to either stick my fingers
in inside me and bring myself off, or rub myself, but the clit
clamp prevented me.  It seemed that the hotter I got between my
legs the more the clamp vibrated my clit.

Angie was standing next to me also mesmerized by the hanging
woman air dancing for her daughter, and I wondered if it had made
her cum. The scene before me reminded of a watching old digital
movies when I was child of what was called a "circus", a place
where animals danced and performed tricks with each crack of the
whip from their masters as they entertained the audience. 
Looking at the woman with the noose around her neck performing a
move each time her young daughter snapped her whip reminded me of
the woman performing like an animal for the crowd.

After a several minutes the child put the stool under her mother.
 The woman stood straight on the stool her arms at her sides and
feet together.  I could see her breathing hard with the noose
still around her neck.  The youngster had walked back to her spot
on the floor turned and cracked the long whip at her mother.  The
end of the tip struck her mother's left ass cheek, but the woman
didn't flinch when struck by the whip.  The girl yelled out,
"Herreeppee!" The mother reached up and took the noose from
around her neck and I could see the lived red line where the
strands had eaten into her skin.  She stepped off the stool and
the audience clapped and cheered as the mother took a bow and the
young girl curtsied.

The female announcer came back out as the mother daughter team
walked behind the curtain.

"Thank you! Six year-old Lacey and her mother practice four hours
a day for their event.  Her mother has to stand absolutely still
as Lacey whips her and her mother works on her hanging skills
with a noose that is set-up in their living room.  For those of
you that are interested, our club is selling hanging toys and
devices right over there.  These are great for parties, family
get-togethers or office functions."

The audience clapped and now the show had finished, I had time to
look around me.  The men and boys had their cocks out and were
stroking them.  Some of the adult women, mother's I would guess,
were rubbing their crotches.  Several young girls were pestering
their mother's to sign-up for the team.

The stage area was quickly cleared of the one hanging beam and
another, longer hanging beam was rolled out.  It had ten nooses
hanging down.  The stagehand set up ten little stools under each
noose.

Next the announcer brought out ten young girls aged five to
eight.  The pretty youngsters were wearing pink string bikinis. 
Each girl was holding a short version of the horse whip that the
first girl used.  The ten girls snapped their whips in unison and
from behind the curtain walked ten women whom the announcer
introduced as the mothers of the young girls.  They were nude
except for the pink slippers on their feet.  The women stood by
their stools, the music started and the young girls started to
whip their mother's.  The women got up on the stools and put the
nooses around their necks while the girls were whipping to the
beat of the music.  The ten girls placed one foot forward in
unison and snapped their whips which curled around their waists,
before kicking their stools away, and then lifted their legs and
arms in unison and swung around on their nooses.

It was the most erotic scene before me, the women air dancing and
their daughters whipping them with horse whips to music.  The
audience clapped wildly and cheered when the demonstration was
over two minutes later.  The girls stepped to the front and took
a bow as the mother's swung back and forth behind them.  The
audience whistled and cheered the girls.  The stage hands quickly
came out and rolled the hanging device behind the curtains,
nobody seeming to care about the mother's as they were moved out
of the way.  I realized that it was all about the young girls;
even the puppy competition that I was in, was all about the
girls.

"Come pet, time for us to go," Angie said as she brushed past me.
 Several women gave me a strange stare.  I gulped and followed my
daughter out.

**

I pulled into the driveway of Mary Johnson's house.  Her daughter
Megan had suggested to her teammates that we have our first
Saturday practice at her place.  It was a big house,  Angie said
that it had five bedrooms, a furnished basement that was the size
of the house, and a three car garage.

Angie bounded up to the front door and walked in.  I pulled out
the bag that had my uniform and the items I had purchased at the
mall.  I walked up to the front door and was about to open the
door when fourteen year-old Stacey Spanner appeared in front of
me.

"Mothers and dogs use the back door." She smiled sweetly at me as
she gripped the door handle. I was about to reply to her when I
realized that I should keep my mouth shut.

I averted my eyes.  "Yes, of course," I said then quickly added,
"Mistress!"

I walked around the garage and through the backyard.  Megan was
standing by the sliding glass door as I came around the corner. 
"Watch out for my mom's poop!" she laughed.

I slowed my walked as I looked around me, seeing if I could spot
any poop in the grass.  The girls were laughing at me as I
treaded carefully towards the kitchen door. As I walked in, I
said, "Hi, ladies!"

"Hi Baby Girl," replied Barb as she looked up at me from the
kitchen table. I was the last one to arrive to practice.  Mary,
Maggie, Cindy and Barb were sitting around the kitchen table with
their dog dishes in front of them.

"Can we please just call each other by our names when the girls
aren't around?" Maggie asked in exasperation as she clasped her
hands in front of her on the kitchen table.  She looked nervous
and harassed.

I didn't reply to Barb's question as I set my stuff down on the
counter.  The other mother's had their stuff laid out on the
counter also.

"We have to get used to getting called by our dog names," Cindy
replied.

I took my dog dish out and set it on the table.  There was water
in the bowls in front of the ladies.

"I for one don't like it, especially when we're not in practice
mode," Barb said as she sat back in her chair.

I decided to change the subject.  I could hear the girls laughing
and talking out in the living room.  "Beautiful house, Mary," I
said as I put water in my dish like the others.

"Thanks!"

"So what are we waiting for?" I asked as I moved to sit at the
kitchen table.

"We were waiting for you! Now I guess we are waiting for the
girls to summon us," Maggie said nervously.

Megan came into the kitchen, smiling.  She went to the
refrigerator but stopped to look to us.  We all held our breath.


"I might be wrong, but why are your dog dishes on the table? I
thought dogs drank from their bowls on the floor?"

Mary quickly got up from the table and put her dog bowl on the
floor and then the rest of us followed right behind her.  None of
us had an answer to her question.

"You should all be punished.  Line the bowls up along the wall,"
Megan ordered as she shook her head and opened the refrigerator
door.  "Mothers can be so stupid sometimes," she muttered as she
took out a carton of milk and then opened the cupboard and pulled
out some cookies.  Mary blushed when her daughter said that. We
had all sat down at the table again as Megan walked out of the
kitchen.

"I don't know about you ladies but I for one am sick and tired of
being punished by my daughter for the slightest infractions,"
Barb said as she leaned forward in her seat.

"I agree, we should talk to the girls about the punishments and
set rules for when a punishment is administered," Maggie added. 
"It can get out of hand."

"What do you mean?" I asked.  I wondered if that had happened to
her. "We all know that it is the girls who set the rules and we
have to follow them."  Angie and I had had this conversation many
times over the previous four days.

Maggie looked around the table.  "I don't know about you ladies
but I for one have a hard time giving up my parental role to my
nine year-old.  I mean what does she know about right and wrong
except what my husband and I taught her? Sometimes she punishes
me just to remind me of my role on the team."

"What exactly is our role?" asked Cindy as she fidgeted with her
fingers.

"We're pets," said Mary.

"We're dogs," I replied.

"Only when we're in practice mode," Cindy added.

"That's my point," Barb said, warming to the discussion.  "I
don't know about you ladies but I'm being punished and humiliated
when we're not in practice mode.  I think we should go back to
the parent child role when we're not in practice mode."  Barb
fidgeted with the leash attached to her dog collar.

"It's about following directions which is a big part of this
competition," I replied sitting back in my chair. "I don't like
it much myself but if it helps us win then I am for it."  I
looked around the table. Barb and Maggie looked stressed, hell we
all were, but Barb and Maggie looked the worst of all of us.

 "School starts Monday so let's see if we can't get together
somehow every day," Cindy offered.  "Give each other support."

"Okay, but that doesn't help us today.  I say we should talk with
the girls," Barb started to say.

"Mistresses," Mary interrupted.

"That's another thing," Maggie jumped in.  "Karen is my daughter
and I'm her mother.  She is not my mistress by any stretch."

"How about during practice time?" asked Cindy as she played with
the dog collar around her neck.

"At any time, Cindy. I just have a hard time saying the word,"
Maggie said as she stared at the table.

I don't think any of us liked calling our daughters mistress.  As
parents we were supposed to be the controlling and dominating
force in our daughters' lives.  There was an awkward silence so I
decided to change the subject a little.

"What about these damn clit clamps? I'm not too proud to say that
I really want to cum in the worst way!" I said as seriously as I
could.

The others broke into laughter nodding their heads.

"I'm to the point where I'll do anything for a cum," Mary giggled
as she looked around the table.  All of us laughed but we also
turned several shades of red in embarrassment.

"I still sleep with my husband but Karen obviously checks me
every morning," Maggie said with a smile.

"I still sleep with my husband," agreed Cindy.

Mary and I said that we slept with our daughters.  We looked at
Barb who hadn't said anything.  She shrugged her shoulders.  "I
sleep curled on a doggie bed at the foot of my daughter's bed."

We all gasped. "Tied or not tied?" asked Cindy.

Barb gave her a dirty look.  "Does it make a difference?"

There was a paused as each of us were lost in our thoughts about
our sleeping arrangements.

"Well, so, do we go out and confront our daughter's about
punishments when we're not in practice mode?" asked Barb as she
looked at each of us.

Suddenly we all turned nervous.  "Who's gonna speak for the
group?" asked Mary.

"I'll start," replied Barb as she sat straight-up in her chair. 
"It was my idea after all, but then the rest of you join in.  I
feel that if we present a united front that the girls will work
with us."

We all took a collective deep breath.  "For fuck sake, ladies,
they're our daughters, why are we so nervous?" Barb stood up.

"Because this might affect the team and the competition.  We're
doing this for a reason remember," I replied as I stood up.  I
straightened my short denim skirt.  The others stood up also
looking just as nervous as I was.

"I don't have a problem with the competition rules and training
when we are in practice mode, but not otherwise." Barb replied.

Barb took a deep breath and we all walked out of the kitchen.  I
was the last one.  We could hear the girls laughing and giggling
in the living room and they were eating the tray of cookies and
drinking milk.  They stopped laughing as we entered the living
room.  We all kind of stood there with our hands folded in front
of us with embarrassed looks on our faces.

Megan, the oldest said, "Oh good, the doggies are here.  We were
just about to call you to start practice."

"Um, well, girls, we have something that we would like to discuss
first," Barb said nervously as she looked at the rest of us
standing next to her in a straight line.

Megan sat up in the couch and the other girls looked on in
interest.  "We're mistresses, not girls, but go on Foofu," said
the sixteen year-old.

"Well, that's the thing, you see. We really believe in this
competition," Barb said waving her hand at us, "but you don't
have to punish us or call us names.  We'll be more than
cooperative, obedient and, um, submissive during practice times
and during the competition.  But when we're not in practice mode,
we want to go back to the mother-daughter role."

"So what are you saying?" Megan asked as she looked at her mom,
Mary, who quickly averted her eyes and fidgeted with her fingers.

"What we're saying, or asking really, is that during non-practice
times, while we're at home or outside the home, that we have a
normal relationship you with.  Meaning, we're mothers and you're
the daughters.  We're not punished for minor infractions nor are
we humiliated in public." Barb took a deep breath.  She was
clearly nervous now.

I watched Angie and the other girls as they looked to Megan.  She
stood up and walked towards Barb.  "Well, that's too bad Mrs
Lane," the teen said coldly, using Barb's married name.  "You
agreed to the competition and everything that goes with it."
Megan stepped back from Barb and looked at us.  "You all did and
we did too," she said as she waved her hand at the girls sitting
in the living room.  "All of us agreed to the rules and
conditions of this sport."

"I just want my normal life back.  I'll do anything you ask
during practices but I just want a normal mother-daughter
relationship in between with my daughter Zoe." Barb sniffed.  I
think she had tears in her eyes because she realized she wasn't
going to get her way.

"There is no `normal', not at least until after the competition
is over, and in case you've forgotten, you're team property Mrs.
Lane.  You belong to us now," Megan said with her hands on her
hips, her voice heavy with authority.  Barb looked away from the
sixteen year old's stare.

Zoe, Barb's daughter, stood and walked to her mother.  "We had a
discussion this morning about this and I punished her for it."
The thirteen year-old reached up and wiped a tear from her
mother's cheek.  "Didn't we mother?"

Barb nodded her head and looked at us for support but we averted
our eyes.  "We don't question the competition program do we
mother?" the thirteen year old asked her as she took her chin her
hand and lifted her mother's head up.

"No," squeaked Barb, avoiding her daughter's eyes.

"No, what?" demanded her daughter.

"No, mistress," Barb replied.  Defeated, I just knew it! Now
we're fucked.

"I told our team pet here that we just couldn't have our mothers
deciding for us what was right and wrong during the competition.
That would make the completion a fraud because it is supposed to
be the mistresses that decide about right and wrong and how the
training progresses." She paused ominously. "Didn't we mother?"

"Yes, mistress," Barb replied again, looking at her feet.  She
now had tears streaming down her face and she sniffed. My heart
went out to her but none of us were going to support her.  This
wasn't going to be good.

"But yet you persist in your idea that you are better than us. 
That you know more than us when it comes to practice time.  Isn't
that right mother?"

"Yes, mistress," sobbed Barb.  She was openly sobbing now.

"We also talked about the fact that you and the other mothers are
property of the team.  That, as property, the five of us girls
own you.  Isn't that right mother?"

"Yes, mistress." She whispered.

"And that as team property you and the other mothers will be
loyal and obedient to the mistresses, isn't that right, mother?"
Zoe stressed the word `mistresses'.

"Yes," was all Barb could muster.

"What other thing did we talk about?"

Barb spoke again, but her sobbing made it unintelligible.

"I can't hear you mother," Zoe said cruelly.

"Pets and dogs," Barb whispered.

"Please tell the other mothers here the difference between pets
and dogs," Zoe said, as she gently wiped tears from her mother's
cheek.

She tried to collect herself. "Um, we are to be treated as dogs
during practice time and pets during non-practice time."

"Very good, mother.  I see that your punishment this morning was
not a waste.  But now, here you are, acting as if you have
forgotten already." The girl paused. "So what should we do about
it?" Zoe said staring directly into her mother's tear stained
face.

We all looked at Barb who clearly looked like she was agonizing
over her choices.

"Punishment," she barely replied.

"We can't hear you, mom, say it louder!" demanded her daughter
again.

Barb stood straight and said, "Punishment", then added
"mistress!"

Zoe stepped back.  "Get undressed mother, in fact, all you pets
get undressed."

The other girls stood up as we took our clothes off.

"Stand behind the recliner chair, mother and lean over it.  You
and you," she pointed at me and Cindy.  "Grab her arms and you
two," pointing to Mary and Maggie, "grab her ankles and pull them
apart."

"What are we going to do for her punishment?" asked little Karen
with wild eyes as she looked at Foofu leaning over the recliner.
I looked over at Angie, but like the others, she seemed absorbed
in Zoe's plans for her mother, her cheeks flushed.

"We each get five spanks on her ass," Zoe smiled as we took up
our stations at Barb's arms and legs.  It was embarrassing and
yet strangely exciting to be naked and participating in the
punishment of one of our own.

"Be a good mother and don't you say anything not even a whimper.
Take your punishment like a good and loyal pet," Zoe said as she
swatted her mother's ass cheeks.

Karen pushed forward after Zoe had finished and gave Barb five
good hard slaps.  I looked at Barb.  She was biting her lip
trying not squeal in pain.  Tears were running down her face. 
Angie was next.  She licked her fingers and swatted Mrs Lane five
times across her crack.  Fourteen year-old Stacey used her whole
hand smack Barb's cheeks and Megan spat on Barb's ass cheeks and
slapped her hard five times, the spit flying everywhere.  Barb's
ass cheeks were swollen and red after the girls finished with
her.

Megan stood back and said, "Line-up pets in front of the couch."

We quickly complied but Barb was a little slow.

"Now, are we going to have anymore attitude problems?"

"No mistress," we replied, not all at once but close enough.

"Do you all understand what is required of you during practice
times and non-practice times?" the sixteen year-old asked as she
folded her arms in front of her.

"Yes, mistress," we replied, pretty much all together that time.

"Good. Now, let's get on with practice," Megan smiled, almost as
if nothing had happened. "We are going to do this warm-up a
little different today.  We understand that mothers have a
problem with their daughter's cursing.  Well, let's see if we
can't get you over that problem.  Who wants to go first?" Megan
asked as she looked around at the girls.

Karen jumped up from the couch and said she would go first. 
"Pick your bitch then," Megan said as she walked to the side of
the room.

I wondered where this was going.

"Come here, fuck face!" nine year-old Karen said as she grabbed
her mother by the arm and the other girls laughed at her choice
of words. Karen defended them. "What! My mom doesn't like anybody
cursing around her!"

Maggie took several steps forward towards her daughter.  She had
an anguished look on her face, as if she was finding this too
much to bear.

"Fucking bitch!" Karen hissed then she slapped her mother's face.
 "Just because you're my mother you think your fucking better
than me.  You're my bitch, my dog to train."

Tears started on Maggie's eyes.  I was nervous and so were the
other mothers.  Karen walked around her mother.  "Your gonna cry
now, ass wipe? Is my fucking doggie gonna cry? If you do bitch, I
may not let you cum!" Karen swatted her mother's left breast. 
The nine year-old ran her fingers over her mother's cunt.  "Fuck
me, dog, your fucking cunt is wet!" Karen stepped back from her
mother and sniffed her fingers then she wiped her fingers on the
side of her mother's face.  Maggie was sobbing now.  "On your
hands and knees like the bitch you are, dog" Karen ordered.

Maggie quickly dropped to all fours, tears streaming down her
face.  "Bark for me and keep barking you stupid bitch!"

We stood there as Maggie started barking.  "Arf, arf, arf," she
went.

"Who's next with a bitch?" Megan asked.

Angie jumped up.  "I am!" then she pointed at me.  "Come here
doggie whore!" I nervously stepped forward blushing.  "Fucking
bitch! Stand still!" my daughter ordered as she slapped my
breasts with both hands.  "You're a stupid, no-good cunt, Baby
Girl, a little slut!" she hissed as she slapped my ass cheek. 
"I'm ashamed that you're my mother, you little bitch!" Angie said
slapping my face so hard that it jerked sideways. Tears started
in my eyes, not because of the slap, but because her words hurt
my feelings so much.  "But I'm proud of the fact that you're my
loyal dog, my loyal bitch and not my mother!" she hissed.  Angie
ran her fingers down my stomach to my crotch and pushed her
middle finger into my cunt.  "I also love it when my fucking
bitch gets a wet cunt when I play with her!" Slowly, she began to
fuck it in and out. "You like that, don't you bitch! You like
everyone watching me finger your fuck hole, because you're my
loyal little doggie whore, aren't you?"

I felt an agony of emotions. Tears of humiliation ran down my
face, but I wanted the finger to continue.

"Aren't you!" Angie shouted.

I nodded, sobbing, and felt my cunt begin to spasm around her
finger. At once she pulled it out and stuck it in my face.  "Suck
it, cocksucker!" I opened my mouth and Angie pushed her finger
into my mouth.  I closed my lips and ran my tongue around it,
tasting myself.  She pulled the finger out of my mouth and wiped
it on the side of my face.

"On your hands and knees, dog, and bark for me like Foofu!"

I barked, face downcast, too embarrassed to meet the eyes of the
other mothers.

After ten minutes and a lot of verbal abuse we were on our hands
and knees barking for our daughters. The girls sat on the couch
watching us and commenting on our barking techniques.

"Okay, doggies, get up and get your uniforms on!" Megan announced
eventually.  "Go on, get your stupid cunts moving!" Megan yelled
when we didn't get up fast enough.

I was the first one out of the kitchen on my hands and knees.  I
quickly crawled into the living room and sat next to Angie.  Poor
Barb was the last one out of the kitchen and she didn't have her
dog sleeves with the paws all the up to her elbows.  Nine
year-old Karen got her rolled up newspaper and started to swat
the poor woman on her ass cheeks.

"Lazy fucking dog!" she yelled as Barb cried with each swat. 
"Zoe, your fucking bitch of a mom is good for nothing bitch! She
can't get her fucking act together!"

Four days ago, I would have been appalled at the language of the
youngster towards Barb, who had tears in her eyes, and I knew how
much it would upset Barb to be spoken to like that. But that was
four days ago, and so much had changed.

"I know, sometimes I have to beat sense into her lazy ass," Zoe
replied as she clipped a leash to Maggie, Cricket.  "But you're
welcome to try!"

After our tails were inserted into our asses the girls had us wag
our tails and bark for them again.  They wanted proper enthusiasm
from us.  If our tail wagging and barking slowed down then one of
them would swat us with the newspaper.  I got smacked on my nose
several times.

Stacey Spanner walked around us swatting us every now and then if
our tail wagging slowed down.  "A proper dog must show her
mistress enthusiasm.  The dog must accept its lowly position
within the household which means the mistress must always be
pleased with the way her doggie handles itself.  The mistress's
dog must always be ready to show proper respect, isn't that right
mother?" the fourteen year-old said. Peaches just barked louder
and wagged her tail.

Later the girls walked us around the backyard, the leash resting
between our shoulders.  They worked us with the commands, "Heel",
"Stay" and "Sit".  Poor Barb, Foofu, tried to please little
Karen, but the nine year old would swat her for her slowness in
performing a command or not showing proper enthusiasm for the
exercise.

Next the girls had us fetching the tennis balls, each one a
different color.  We worked the commands, "Mark", "Fetch", and
"Drop".  Foofu was the slowest again and little Karen took her
rolled up newspaper and swatted Foofu's ass cheeks several times.
When she had finished, she knelt in front of the woman and said,
"I'm beating you, Foofu, for your own good, you know that right?"
Her tone was comforting, but the gleam in her eyes hinted at how
much she enjoyed her cruelty.

"Arf!"

"And that you're bringing all your pain on yourself by not living
up to my standards or the team standards, right?"

"Arf!" as Foofu hung her head.

"Drink time for our dogs, girls," announced Megan tossing the
ball up and down in her hand.

We scampered inside the kitchen and to our water bowls along the
wall.  Each of us lapped up the water not caring how embarrassing
this might look to each other.  Hell, I was thirsty.

We went out to the yard again and played more fetch.  The better
we did the more praise we got, plus we would get doggie treats. 
I didn't realize how hungry I was until after the fifth treat.

**

A couple of hours later, practice was over and we were putting
our clothes back on. The girls were back to laughing and giggling
in the living room, but we were subdued and spoke little, the
memories of our humiliation still fresh.

"Come in here pets and line up!" yelled Megan.  She seemed to be
the captain of the team.  We stood in shoulder to shoulder facing
the girls.

"New rule, pets, from now on when one of us enters a room that
you are in you will stand-up." The sixteen year-old smiled.

We kind of looked at each other and back at the girls.  Mary,
Dinky-Pooh, raised her hand like she was in class.

"Yes, mother, what is it?" Megan asked.

"Um, mistress, why do we have to stand-up?"

"It is a sign of respect, mother.  It's you pets showing respect
for your daughters.  We thought about having you kneel instead of
standing but if there were other people in the room that might
get a little awkward.  So, anytime, anywhere that we are not in
practice mode and one of us or all us enter a room where you are,
you are to stand, is that understood?"

"Yes, mistress," we all replied together.  Fuck I didn't like
this at all.  But it's in the spirit of the competition, right? I
mean following directions from out daughters.

On the drive home I decided to ask Angie a question.  "You
mistresses didn't have to beat poor Barb like you did."

"Who, Foofu?"

"Um, yes, Foofu."

"Of course we did, pet.  It was for her own good and I think the
bitch realized that.  Did you see the tears running down her
face? It was priceless! I bet Zoe teaches her mom another lesson
tonight." Angie smiled as she looked out her window.

I decided to go for it.  "When can I masturbate, mistress?" I
cringed when I asked that, but my daughter finger fucking me in
front of the other mothers had driven me to the edge.  I mean,
fuck, my cunt was still oozing cream and that goddamn clit clamp
was driving me crazy!

Angie turned and looked at me.  "What was that, mother?"

I gulped. Maybe I shouldn't have said anything.  "I asked when I
can cum, when can I masturbate, Angie? Please I want to cum in
the worst way!" I begged as I gripped the steering wheel.

`I don't know mother.  I really haven't thought about that.  But,
dad did ask me this morning if he could have sexual relations
with you."

What? I thought.  Fucking "A" right! Thank God! My pussy spasmed.

"What was your answer?" I asked a little too hopefully. Part of
me couldn't believe what I was saying, but I was too far gone to
care.

Angie smiled.  "I said of course, but with a couple of
conditions."

My heart sank and mood changed instantly.

"Don't look so bad, mom, he agreed to everything I asked."

I knew that she was teasing me, knew that as an adult I should be
able to resist, but I just had to know.  "Um, what were the
conditions?"

"First, I get to watch," Angie looked at me when she said that.
Again, part of me didn't like that all: sex should be done in
private with no voyeurs, let alone your own daughter.  But I
couldn't deny the sexual thrill that shot through me at the
thought of her watching, just as it did when she felt me up
during warm-ups.

"Okay."

"Second, he fucks your cunt.  Your ass belongs to me." Angie was
still staring at me, just daring me to say something about her
language. I noticed that her legs were open, her hand stroking
her thigh. A voice in my head told me I should stop the car,
bring all of this to an end: this was my daughter, talking about
me as if I was a piece of meat, and in the filthiest terms. But
another, darker voice drowned out my reason. Wasn't this what I
secretly wanted, this filthy, delicious humiliation? Angie's
words came back to me, "doggie whore", and I felt my cream
leaking down into my butt-crack.

Blushing, I nodded my head.

"Third, he can't use his hands."

What? I thought for a moment trying to figure out what she meant.
 "I don't know what you mean by that?" I finally asked.

"It means pet that he can't touch you with his hands when he
fucks you, like holding your waist or putting his hands on your
back or grabbing your titties," Angie smiled as her hand rubbed
higher up her thigh.

I had a perplexed look on my face and she must have picked up on
that.

"What it means mom," Angie said, looking at me like some idiot,
"is that I hold daddy's cock and guide it into your cunt, then he
can fuck you all he wants."

I damn near stomped on the brakes.  "What the hell?" I cried.

"Exactly, pet."

"Angie, please no, come on! There must be some other way!" I
pleaded. "He's your father!"

"Mistress, mother, not Angie, and there is no other way," Angie
replied as she cross her arms across her chest.  "I won't be
naked mom, I just don't want daddy touching my property."

"That makes no difference, Ang.., um, mistress! You'll be
touching him!"

"Trust me mom. Besides, if you don't want daddy to fuck you, then
just say so," Angie replied looking at me.

I gulped, looked at the street in front of me.  I needed to cum
in the worst way and Angie wouldn't let me masturbate.  Fuck!
This was so not right: she's only twelve; she shouldn't be
touching her father's cock; shouldn't be helping him to ...! The
very thought of it was disgusting! And delicious. To feel those
little hands guiding Bill's cock into her, stretching her,
fucking her, giving her the desperate release that every fibre of
her being craved.

I nodded my head slowly.

"You're nodding your head, what's that mean?"

I blushed again at the humiliation of my answer. "I need to cum
in the worst way and if this is how you will allow me to cum,
then okay, I do it your way!"

"That's my girl! Just trust me mom!" Angie smiled.

"Ah, when is this supposed to happen?" I asked gripping the
steering wheel.

"Soon, so I don't want you to worry your pretty little head over
it, pet," Angie giggled as she looked out the car window.

**

Saturday evening saw even more humiliation heaped on me.  I mean,
it was bad enough that my daughter was negotiating my sexual
release with her father, but she was also setting the rules.

After dinner Angie ordered me up to my bedroom for more training.
 Bill was sitting in his favorite chair watching TV.  She also
wanted the dog muzzle on my face and me standing naked in the
middle of the room.  There I was with my hands at my sides with
that stupid muzzle tightly attached to my face which covered my
chin, mouth and nose.  The straps wrapped around the back of my
head.  I could barely open my mouth.  I must have looked so silly
standing there in the middle of my bedroom.

Angie came into the room with the riding crop and flexible ruler
and I wondered why she had brought those with her?

She walked up to me and flicked my nipple.  I almost jumped. 
Then she attached the bell on my dog collar.  She walked around
behind me and ran her fingers over my ass cheeks, giving me
shivers.

"Practice has started, bitch!" Angie said as she pinched my left
ass cheek.  She ran her left arm around me and grabbed my left
breast squeezing it.  "That's my bitch doggie, hold still for
your mistress!"

A slight moan escaped my lips as she squeezed my breast and ran
her right hand down between my ass crack.  I jumped just a little
as she slid her finger pressed against my anus and that goddamn
bell on my collar jingled.  Fuck!

Angie stepped back from me.  "Tsk, tsk, Baby Girl! Well, seems my
doggie bitch needs a punishment!"

I looked at my daughter, my eyes pleading.  With the damn muzzle
attached to my face I couldn't speak.

Angie walked to the bed and picked up the flexible ruler and
smacked her hand a couple times with it.  She stood in front of
me.  "Grab your nipples Baby Girl and pull your titties straight
out," she ordered me in a business like tone of voice.

I hesitated still trying to plead with my eyes, tears forming at
the edges of my lids.  "I am going to count to three, Baby Girl.
If you don't pull your nipples straight out then I will spank
your bottom like an adult would a child."

I still looked her as my tears started to form.  "One."

Angie looked at me and smacked the ruler in her right hand. 
"Two."

She was all business.  Here I was humiliating myself in front of
her, standing there naked with a dog muzzle on my face, and my
twelve year-old daughter was going to punish me.  I slowly raised
my hands to my breasts and took hold of my nipples.

"That's it Baby Girl," she smiled as she stepped to my left side.
 "Pull them nice and tight!"

Tears started to roll down my cheeks.  I knew this was gonna
hurt.

"Three smacks on each tittie, Baby Girl," Angie smiled.  "I know
you can't speak with the muzzle on but I want you to bark after
each smack.  Think of it as practicing with the muzzle on."

I looked at her.  "Good you understand me!" she smiled.

[SMACK] She smacked my left tit underhanded.  I jumped and the
bell tinkled.

"Arf!"

"I think you are going to anticipate your smacks.  Let me get the
silk scarf," she announced as she walked out of the room.  I must
have looked stupid as I stood there pulling my nipples straight
out waiting for my daughter to return.

A minute later she had me blindfolded. "Much better!"

[SMACK] I jumped again.  This time it was my right tit.  Fuck
that hurt! "Arf!"

I could hear her walking around me.  [SMACK] My left tit. 
Goddamn! "Arf"

After what seemed like forever,  [SMACK] My left tit again. 
"Arf!"  Just two more smacks on my right tit.

[SMACK] Yep, my right tit.  My bell tinkled.  "Arf!"

Another long pause.  [SMACK] Fuck that hurt! "Arf!"

"Very good, Baby Girl.  Let go of your nipples and hands at your
sides."

Angie took the silk scarf off and started to rub my sore titties.
She stroked my nipples softly and it sent sparks down to my
already wet cunt.

**

Just then I heard Bill's footsteps coming up the stairs.  Oh fuck
no! I thought.  He can't see me and Angie like this.  Without
moving my head I give a slight bark trying to get my daughter's
attention.

"I know Baby Girl, I hear him, but he won't fuck you yet.  Think
of this is your first test.  Trust me, don't be scared." She
continued soothing my sore titties.

Oh God! I knew this had to happen, I just wish it wasn't now.

I was staring at the door when Bill appeared.  I could tell right
away that he had hard-on, the bastard must have been anticipating
this sight and of course Angie was in on this too. He also had a
bemused look on his face; must have been the dog muzzle I was
wearing.

"That's it Baby Girl, I can feel your heart banging away, but
relax, I won't let anything happen to you."

Bill's eyes were wide with excitement.  Angie walked around me
standing just in front of me looking at her dad.  "Her name is
Baby Girl, dad.  It's the name she gave herself for this
competition."

Oh God why did she have to say that! I must have turned several
shades of red standing there so exposed.  Bill had lust in his
eyes.

"Baby Girl, huh?" was all he said.

"Yep, and I use the name only during practice times here at the
house or with the other mothers.  Also, during practice times,
either with the team or here, she is my dog, my pet, my property.
 This is her warm-up," Angie said proudly as she turned and
tweaked my nipple.  Fuck that hurt! But I didn't move.

"Mom lets you do that to her?" Bill asked amazed as he stepped
into the room sticking hands in his pockets.

"She has no choice.  It is part of her training and my training.
We are learning together.  All the mom's in this competition are
warmed up this way."

"I see," Bill replied, making no effort to disguise the movement
of his hand in his pants.

"You know how mom doesn't like cursing? Watch this," Angie
smiled.  She turned to me.  "My little fucking bitch, Baby Girl,
is such a good doggie.  I bet your doggie cunt is all hot and
moist for a big fat cock!"

I was horrified that she should speak like that, with my husband
standing there.  "You're my little fuck aren't you, Baby Girl?"

I waited for him to say something to her, to tell her off, but
"Wow!" was all Bill said.  He was still rubbing his pants.

"Bark for me Baby Girl, bark like a fucking doggie you are!" She
ordered me as she ran her fingers around my crotch.

I didn't like this one bit, not one damn bit! Doing this just
with Angie was one thing, but with Bill standing there, leering,
it was completely demeaning. "Arf!" my bark was more throaty than
usual because of the dog muzzle.

"Fuck me!" Bill said as he walked up to me.  "Make her do it
again!"

"Open your legs wider, bitch, and keep barking until I tell you
to stop," Angie said to me as she pinched my labia.  Her fingers
gently touched the clit clamp.

As I was barking, Angie and Bill squatted in front of me. She
seemed to have positioned herself deliberately, her thighs
splayed, her skirt riding up, displaying her moist little pussy
to me.  She pointed my clit clamp.  "This little clamp is on her
clit.  It prevents mom from cumming."

"Arf, arf!" This was getting out of hand but my husband smiled
when I barked.

"Why is that?" her father asked as he flicked it, making me jump.

"Because she's not allowed to cum without my permission.  As a
matter of fact, dad, she needs my permission to do anything,"
Angie said proudly.

"Arf, arf!"

"Damn! What a sport!" Bill said trying to control his breathing.
I felt a sudden wave of anger at his response. He was my husband,
for fuck sake! He should be defending me, supporting me, but
instead I could tell the bastard was getting excited.

"Which means, dad, you can't take advantage of her no matter how
sexy she looks.  As we talked about earlier, you need my
permission because mom is my property during this competition."

"Arf, arf!" I looked at Angie when she said that.

"Yes, I'm still getting used to that idea that mom is your
property."

"Think of it this way dad, it will teach her to obey me in our
everyday lives which should help us win," Angie said proudly as
she patted the back of my head.

"Arf, arf!"

"Hmm, I see."

There I was, standing naked in my bedroom with a muzzle on my
face and barking like a dog, as my husband and daughter talked
about me like I wasn't important.

"Arf, arf!" Fuck, how do I make my barks sound angry?

"Also, If she does something wrong or without my permission she
gets punished," Angie said as she walked around me.  She traced
her index finder around my side which gave me goose bumps.

"Punished? You mean you strike mom?" her dad asked a little
alarmed. At last, I thought, his first sign of concern.

"Arf, arf!"

"Don't worry dad, I don't hurt her, she doesn't get bruises or
damaged skin. That would be bad for the competition."

"Arf, arf!"

"Stop barking, bitch!" Angie ordered me as she stood up. "Mom
needs to be taught her place and punishment is the way to do
that."

Bill looked at me with some concern.  I know he could see the
dried tears.  "So what is her place then?"

I could tell Angie was smiling even though she was behind me.

"Her place is as my pet, my loyal dog always at my side.  And as
my loyal dog she will perform like a dog come competition day. 
That is why she and the other mothers agreed to be trained as
dogs."

Bill stood up also nodding his head like he accepted Angie's
explanation.  "So where does she go to the bathroom?"

"Where do you think, dad?"

"Hell, I don't know. The bathroom?"

 "She's a dog and doggies go poop and pee outside, like good
bitches, don't they Baby Girl?" Angie smiled.

"Arf!" I replied.

"You know, Angie, I don't really think you should call your mom a
bitch!" Bill said, looking at her, then me.

"She's a female dog, dad, what else would I call a female dog but
a bitch?" Angie said matter-of-factly as she ran her hands down
my left side.

He thought for a moment, and then nodded. "Yes, I suppose your
right, honey." I couldn't believe it!

"How about eating dog food then?" His hands had started rubbing
the inside of his pants again.

"She has her dog bowl and water dish.  Now that you know what's
going on with her I think she can start eating her food out of
the dog bowl when we eat.  Also, dad, if I'm not here and you go
to eat something, mom must eat anything you give her out of the
dog bowl.  She has to learn her place."

Fuck! Eating out of a dog bowl in front of my husband? God damn
it, I'd hadn't even thought of that; I was mad at myself for not
anticipating it.

Bill just nodded his head and walked around me, appraising me for
some reason.

Angie ordered me to get my uniform on.  For the next hour Bill
and Angie sat in the living room throwing the tennis ball down
the hallway and into the kitchen and I went to fetch it. 
Sometimes I would drop the ball in Bill's hand and sometimes
Angie's hand.  Angie did swat my nose several times when she
thought I wasn't properly showing enthusiasm by vigorously
wagging my tail.  Bill spent the time laughing his ass off,
especially when I crawled down the stairs with my tail wagging. 
I was so humiliated and angry. Just you wait till all this is
over, you fuck! I thought.

When I had gone back up stairs to her bedroom I heard Angie say.
"She is not allowed on the furniture dad."

"How about when she is not in practice mode?"

"Even if we are not in practice mode.  She has to sit on the
floor here in the living room.  It also means she can't sit on
the beds or even the kitchen chairs."

"Well, she's sleeping in your bed, what about that?"

"I let mom sleep in my bed, I'm not that cruel, dad!" Angie
giggled.  "But, she made the choice herself to sleep with me. 
She might in the future go back to sleeping with you but for now
she sleeps with me."

**

Later that night as I was lying on the bed with Angie next to me,
she suddenly rolled over almost on top of me.  She spread her
legs and began to rub herself on my thigh, at the same time,
taking my right breast..., tit, in her mouth and sucking on it
like she did when she was a baby. I was immediately aroused, and
looked down at her in the dim light, but she seemed in a deep
sleep. Her eyes were closed and she didn't seem to realize what
she was doing but her working my tit with her mouth and rubbing
herself against my right thigh was driving me crazy.  She was
humming and cooing like she did when she was baby.

I wanted her so badly, wanted to share this moment, to cum with
her, but I couldn't move.  She'd tied my ankles together to the
bed frame and wrapped a piece of yarn around my neck and tied it
to the bed frame at the head of the bed; my hands, as always,
were tied uncomfortably behind my back. For a second, I wondered
if she was really awake, just pretending to sleep. I had thought
it odd when we went to bed that she had tied me in just this way,
restricting my movements so completely; it seemed almost too
convenient for what she was doing now. But no, that was
impossible. She wouldn't have planned that. Would she?

I lay trapped, my needy cunt on fire and my nipple painfully hard
in her little mouth, cursing the clit clamp and my helplessness.
Slowly the speed of her jerking hips increased until I felt her
body tense, and her teeth bite down onto my nipple. Her body
jolted rhythmically against me for several seconds, and then
began to relax, and I heard her sigh with contentment. She lay
still for some minutes, her breathing slowing, and then slid
slowly off me, but her mouth stayed closed on my nipple, and she
continued to suckle. On my right thigh, where my little girl had
rubbed her cunt, I felt a sticky wetness.

Yes, my daughter did give me choice before she tied me to the
bed.  I could either sleep with Bill unhindered or sleep with
her, tied to the bed.  But I wouldn't have it any other way,
especially as she lay at my side with her mouth on my right tit,
slobber drooling out of her mouth as she sucked my nipple, and
her cum drying on my thigh.

Sunday:

Angie woke me early and put me through my usual morning routine.
She was her normal cheerful self and, as usual, Bill was gone
from the house when I got up.  His behavior the past several days
had bothered me and I had begun to wonder if he was seeing
anybody on the side.

Angie had me wearing a pink halter top with no bra, my nipples
poking through the material.  I wore short denim cut-offs that
rode up my ass crack and a pair of high heels.  My hair was in
pony tail and I wore red lipstick.  I looked like a whore but
Angie said she was proud of me.

When we pulled into the church parking lot Cindy Spanner was
already there.  She too was wearing clothes that made her look
like a whore.  A nun, surrounded by a small crowd of young girls,
was signing autographs over by the side of the building. As I
watched, a girl of about six handed her a bible, and she smiled
and signed it. The girl stood on tiptoe and seemed to whisper to
her, and the nun smiled and nodded before leaning down to kiss
her. Even at that distance, it was clear that she had her tongue
deep in the little girl's mouth. Seeing my expression, Angie said
that the nun was a dancer at the Young Girl Club, but that on
Sundays, she ran the Sunday school classes.  I couldn't see how a
religious woman would degrade herself at a strip-club, but Angie
said that a lot of women, especially mothers, dance at the club.

Cindy and I both sang in the choir.  All women in the choir wore
custom-fit robes that hugged our body.  We normally wore only our
bra and underwear under the robe but since Cindy and I didn't
have bras or underwear on, we were naked under our robes which
earned us some dirty looks from the other choir members.

The reverend Hurst stood at the podium looking out at the
congregation.  I and the other choir members were standing behind
the alter holding our hymnals.  We all knew that the reverend
loved to have his cock sucked while giving his sermon but we
never knew who it was that was kneeling under the podium. Cindy
reckoned it was one of the nuns, that they drew lots every Sunday
to see who would be able to drink the holy spunk, none of us
really knew.

Behind us were three women on crosses.  They were stripped down
to their bra and panties.  Their wrists were secured around the
horizontal beam with rope and their ankles tied to the vertical
post, their arms and shoulders taking the weight of their bodies.
 A triangular piece of wood was fixed to the vertical post, and
they were positioned so that its apex pressed up against their
crotches. Often, during one of the reverend's better sermons,
their moans of pleasure formed an accompaniment to his words as
they ground themselves against the wood. They were randomly
selected from the congregation to hang on the crosses for the
viewing pleasure of the congregation.

Revered Hurst cleared his throat.  "My sermon today is on the
theme of "An Obedient Mother".  I hope to show the importance of
and characteristics of an obedient mother.  The definition can be
found in 1:10 in the White Redeemer book: `an obedient mother is
one of moral goodness, fine manners and culture'. In Tit. 2:12:
`an obedient mother should live a godly life in this present
world and properly discharge her duties to her family.  A mother
should do that which is well pleasing to her family.  A mother
should be devout, pious, and sincere when dealing with her
family.  Any mistress brought into a home has the potential to
wreck a home if not handled correctly, but it takes an obedient
mother to build happiness when a mistress has been brought into
her home.'"
A bunch of us in the choir shuffled our feet and I could see some
mother's squirm in the pews.  I wondered how many of their
husbands had mistresses at home or even the office?

Reverend Hurst paused and sucked in his breath and shifted his
weight back and forth: clearly, some poor woman was sucking away
at him.  "What are the characteristics of an obedient mother?"

Reverend Hurst looked down between his legs then looked up.  He
took a deep breath.  "`Obedient mothers are managers of the home
for her family',  Pussy 3:27B. Note the Redeemer's order in 1
Tit. 5:4: `An obedient woman should marry, bear children, and
guide the set-up of the home.  The new wife should keep the home.
 She should not advance a career.  Her primary responsibility is
to her new home and husband.  She should seek and find sexual
satisfaction, fulfilment, and the rewards of motherhood only
after she has born babies.  For it is with these children that
she will be an obedient mother.'"  Reverend Hurst stepped back a
little and sucked in his breath again. One of the women on the
crosses moaned softly. He smiled and continued "You know after a
couple of centuries of experimentation, selfish female ambition,
and career-first attitudes, our society is slowly beginning to
come around again to the concept of `stay at home mom's'."

I could tell some of the mothers who had jobs outside the home
were embarrassed with what the reverend just said.  It was a
proven fact that women in Cherish Valley had more advanced
degrees than their male counterparts, but males ran everything.

"An `educated' or `worthy' woman is okay as long as she is an
example of a domestic household manager.  She should be an
efficient manager of the home and must have her priorities in
order even when it comes to a mistress.  Even though she may have
a higher education level than her husband and have pursuits
outside of the home, as explained in Jobs 16 and 24, her family
comes first before outside interests.  If there are daughters, an
obedient woman should be a compliment to her daughters and she
should contribute to the sexual future of the female members of
the family.  If there are boys in the family the obedient mother
should share herself with them and not just her husband for a
mother should enlighten her boys to the joys of a mature female."

I could tell the reverend was fighting back the urge to cum.  He
was gripping the podium tightly with both hands.  I looked out
over the congregation and noticed Mrs Cassiday had her head
bobbing up and down in her husband's lap but more importantly,
there was a younger woman sitting next to Mr Cassiday who had her
hand on Mrs Cassiday's head directing her movements.  Mrs
Cassiday's three boys were watching and had their cocks out,
stroking them.  It wasn't uncommon in church to see scenes of sex
in the pews.  Hell, if the good reverend could be sucked off,
then so could other males in the congregation.

"Obedient mothers are models of domestic bliss.  First the
obedient mother knows that submission to her family is necessary.
 If she has properly obeyed the gospel, become a whore, as in II
Lesbian. 1:82, `she will continue to live be faithful sexual
servant all the days of her life'.  Second in reading 1 Tittie
2:5, `the obedient mother is obedient to her own daughter and
son, allowing them whatever they demand of her mind and her
body'."

All of the women around me nodded their heads.

"Turn to 1 Pet. 3:1, verses 5-63: `An obedient mother knows that
it does not make her inferior to be in subjection to her own
family even if there is a mistress in the household'." The
reverend paused.  "My wife is an example of an obedient mother.
Before we were married I told her that we would have a son and
she would suckle his little cock each time she changed his
diaper, that it was ordained that she would do this.  Being a
good wife she also knew she would do this under the watchful eye
of my mistress.  She accepted the divine ordination and her role
in bringing our son into the world, and she dutifully welcomed my
mistress, understanding that it was her role to serve.  Obedient
mothers of today will be regular in their attendance at worship
so that they hear the word of the redeemer to reinforce the
teachings that they have the lowest status within the household.
Obedient mothers will have dominant sons and daughters, at least
until the daughter turns seventeen.  The example of a mother's
obedience within the household will go a long way in bringing up
the children in the right way."

The reverend sucked in his breath and looked down at the woman
kneeling under the podium.  I had heard that Stephanie Hurst, the
reverend's wife, was into little girls, but that was only a rumor
started by Holly Anderson, a fifth grade math teacher.  But what
do I know, I thought as I smiled at my Angie.  I'm always the
last to know what is going on in the valley.

"Turn to Ass 5:8-9b.  `An obedient mother is a teacher of
children and mistresses within a household.  An obedient mother
wants to teach her children how to develop fully in their mental,
physical, spiritual and sexual attitudes by her example.  A wife
should not be jealous of a mistress within the household, but
rather help her to enjoy the blessing of her husband's seed.  The
wife should rejoice that she has the ability to subject herself
to a lowly status in front of the mistress'."

There was murmuring and `amen's' throughout the church.  Every
now and then a woman on the cross behind us would groan or moan,
and several of the congregation turned to watch them. It wasn't
uncommon for the younger boys, bored with the sermon, to stand
below the crosses, rubbing their little cocks, watching the women
grinding their hips.

"An obedient mother is not just concerned with her own mind and
body, but also the development of her daughter when she turns
seventeen.  Training her daughter in the scriptures is important
work for mothers.  In II Tit. 3:152: `a mother is a teacher of
young women who turn seventeen.'  This is a neglected area of
divine teachings.  A mother should teach the seventeen year old
how to keep house, how to rear children, how to love their new
husband and be obedient to him.  Most important she should teach
her how to be discreet and chaste when her husband is having
sexual relations with other women in their marital bed."

Reverend Hurst stopped talking, closed his notebook, and looked
up at the congregation.  "That is the end of this week's sermon.
Amen!" he said as he looked down between his legs.

Angie was in the pew texting on her device and smiling at the
same time.  I don't think she was paying much attention to the
reverend.  I didn't know who she was texting, but at one point
she looked up at me and licked her lips sensuously, making my
clit jumped a mile, and I wondered what she meant by it.  As the
service began to come to an end, we sang two hymns, `Our Mother's
Faithful Service' and `Worship thy Crotch'.
Finally, the reverend lead us in a closing prayer. As he spoke,
he began to move his hips backwards and forwards, and his voice
grew more and more strained as the prayer built to its climax.

"Oh Great White Redeemer, look down on us and guide us, thy
humble seed. Bless thy men folk, that they might continue to
enforce thy will and spread thy seed widely in the world. Bless
thy children, that they might seek to explore the pleasures of
the flesh and fulfil their desires. And bless thy women, that
they might be ever open to the needs of those around them. Teach
them to be obedient and to lower themselves before all others."

For a moment, his body went rigid, and then he cried, "Amen!"

The congregation answered, "Amen!" One of the women on the
crosses screamed in orgasm, and I could hear a chorus of cheers
from the small boys watching her. I looked round and saw a
darkening stain in the gusset of her panties as her cum leaked
out of her.

Cindy and I looked at each other after the service.

"Well," I said smiling, "I will see you at practice this
afternoon."

"Shhh, I'm not allowed to talk, Baby Girl, my mistress would
punish me if she knew I was talking," Cindy replied with a
worried look on face.  She looked around the alter area making
sure her daughter Stacey wasn't nearby.

"Oh, come on, Cindy," I started to say.

"Peaches, my name is Peaches.  You better not forget that!" she
whispered and took off.

"Hi mom, you were great!" beamed Angie as she strode up to me. 
She had a sparkle in her eye which I couldn't interpret. The
congregation was filing towards the doors at the back of the
church.

"Thanks, Ang, I mean Mistress," I said in low voice.

"I just wish that you could bark when the choir sang, kind of
like when a dog howls when somebody sings out of tune!" she
giggled.

I turned beet red.  "That's not nice!"

"Come along mother, we have practice for a couple of hours,"
Angie called as I trailed after her.

 **

We pulled up to Mary Johnson's house and Angie jumped out of the
car and bounded up the front lawn.  "You know where to go,
mother!" she yelled over her shoulder.

I walked around the backyard and there were my teammates. 
Peaches, Foofu, Cricket and Dinky-Pooh, sitting on the grass.
They all looked rather subdued.

"What's up out here?" I asked as I stood there looking at them.

"We're not allowed in the house," Dinky-Pooh replied sullenly.

"But it's your house," I protested.

"Is it? We're dogs, Baby Girl, and as loyal dogs we wait outside
until our mistresses call us." Dinky-Pooh looked embarrassed.

I looked at the others but they avoided eye contact, so I sat
down on the grass also and waited.

Cricket spoke up after a minute or so.  "Remember the other day
when we started our training? How the girls slowly caressed us?
How the coach showed them how to warm us up?"

"Yeah, what about it?" asked Foofu as she pulled a piece of
grass.

Cricket had a far-away look in her eyes. "Well, it all seemed so
gentle then, so exciting." She paused, and then said, as if
making a confession, "I.... I enjoyed that, being warmed up..."
She glanced at each of us, then blushed.  We all looked at her
and could tell she was embarrassed.

There was a silence, and then Peaches giggled.  "I must admit I
did to.  I mean my daughter's warm hands and slim fingers working
my body got me hot as hell, much more so than my husband."

Suddenly, the embarrassment gone, we all giggled.  "Do your
husbands take the time to properly warm you up before sex?" I
asked.

The women all laughed. "Hell no!" Peaches replied.

"It's always wham, bam and turn over and go to sleep!" Cricket
said with a trace of bitterness.

"I know what you mean, Cricket," agreed Foofu. "Sometimes I swear
mine thinks I'm just a hole to fuck! The bastard never thinks of
me!"

There was silence again as each of the women thought about the
way their husbands treated them. I thought of Bill. Yes,
sometimes he was needy, but he always seemed to respect me, he
always tried to be considerate in bed. I suppose that was why I
had been so upset with him last night, because it was the first
time that he had treated me like an object rather than a woman.
I'm sure that was because it was all so new to him, I thought,
I'm sure tonight he will be back to his old self.

The thought of tonight sent a sudden longing through me. I hoped
so desperately that Angie would let me have sex with him: I
longed to feel his thick cock stretching my aching cunt.

"So what is everybody's favorite fantasy?" I asked sitting up
straight, wanting to take our minds off waiting for our
daughters.

The girls didn't say anything at first, but then Peaches spoke
up.  "I fantasize about my daughter fucking me with a huge
strap-on!" She looked up at us, trying to gauge our reactions,
and we all giggled, holding our hands to our mouths like
schoolgirls, pleased that the silence had been broken.

"Yes, but, what position? Missionary, or dare I say... doggie
style?" I asked and the mothers burst out laughing.

"I like the doggie style," Peaches moaned longingly, and Foofu
and Cricket nodded enthusiastically. "Gets him really deep
inside."

We all laughed again.

"I prefer the missionary," I said, moaning also, "his hair
rubbing against my clit."

"Oh yesss!" sighed Dinky- Pooh.

Suddenly, the sliding glass door opened and Little Karen stepped
out.  "Okay doggies, practice time.  Put your uniforms on," she
said as she stood there with her hands on her hips.

Our clothes were piled up on the back porch as the girls came out
of the house.  We waited there on our hands and knees looking up
at them.

For the next three hours we fetched tennis balls, learned our
commands such as sit, heel, and come.  Several times we were
swatted with the rolled up newspapers for being too slow.  Then
there was leash training and following the girls around the
backyard. Angie swatted me on the nose a couple of times when I
accidently dropped the tennis ball before her command.

Little Karen brought out our water bowls filled with cold water
and we had a short break time during which the girls fed us the
doggie treats.  Stacey commented on how our skin looked, saying
it was smoother.  Megan said it was the doggie treats and the
girls laughed. As for us mothers, I noticed how used we were
getting to the training, to seeing each other naked and on our
hands and knees.

Zoe suggested another crotch and anal inspection for hair, an
idea which was enthusiastically carried out by the girls.  Angie
made sure she stuck her fingers into my crotch... my cunt.

"Do you like that, Baby-Girl? she asked softly, and I wagged my
tail hard, enjoying the sensations in my anus and cunt.

Foofu and Peaches needed shaving as we could see little hair
stubble coming out.  As we watched Zoe and Stacey shave their
mothers' cunts, Angie continued to play with my cunt, running her
fingers lightly over my labia or pushing them deep into me.  Oh
fuck! how I wanted to move my hips in time to her fingers but I
knew I would be punished.

The girls walked us around the backyard on our leashes using
doggie commands to control our movement.  Near the end of the
training we each went pee in the bushes.  That was the hardest
part, watching the other mothers squat down, spread their thighs,
grunt and push their pee out.  Each of us was rewarded with a pat
on the head and gentle rubbing behind our ears.

**

On the drive home Angie and I didn't say much.  She was texting
on her device and giggling at the same time, and I was so aroused
from what had just happened, from what might still happen, that
it was all I could do to concentrate on my driving. A couple of
times she put her left hand on my thigh and rubbed up and down. 
That felt nice, but made my need even worse.

After a while, she put down her phone and I could feel her
looking at me.

"Are you wet, Baby-Girl?" she asked.

I gasped at the question, that my daughter should ask me
something so personal. For a moment I wanted to protest, but my
blush betrayed me.

I nodded, trying to concentrate on the road.

"Why? she asked.

I blushed even more and gripped the steering wheel.

"Because... when you..." I stopped, too embarrassed to say any
more.

"When I what?" she persisted.

I glanced at her. She was still looking at me, smiling, waiting
for my answer, but her legs were spread, and her hand was moving
slowly under her skirt.

"When you touched me," I whispered, "during the practice."

"Touched you where?" she asked, feigning a tone of innocence.

I knew what she wanted me to say, that she was testing me.

"My cunt." I felt myself gushing and the clit-clamp driving me
crazy.

"I liked doing that," she said, her hand still moving under her
skirt. "I like touching your cunt, Baby-Girl, I like fucking you
with my fingers, pushing them deep into your wet slit. It makes
my little cunny so juicy."

Once again I gasped. I should have stopped, told her off for
saying such filthy things to her mother, but the impact of her
words was electric. Why was she torturing my like this?

"It makes want to rub it against your thigh and make myself cum,"
she continued softly, "like last night."

Last night? That meant that she wasn't asleep, that...

"But I thought...! You were awake?" I cried.

"Yes, mother, I was awake." She paused and removed her hand from
under her skirt. Two of her fingers glistened. "You were a very
good doggy, you didn't say anything. If you had, it would have
spoilt everything, and I would have had to punish you."

I stared at the road, remembering last night, trying to make
sense of what had happened.

"And because you have been such a good pet, I am going to let you
have a reward tonight." She leaned over in her seat, her mouth
close to my ear. "I'm going to let daddy fuck you."

**

As I was fixing dinner Angie informed me that there would be
training after dinner in the master bedroom.  I wanted to ask her
if that was when Bill would come and fuck me.  After all her
teasing, how I wanted his cock between my legs!  But, as the
reverend had preached, I was a good mother and didn't ask the
question; mothers should be seen and not heard.

After the dishes were done I went upstairs and got undressed and
stood in the middle of the room.  Angie came out from her bedroom
and tossed the gym bag with my uniform in it at me.  Without
saying a thing she went down stairs.  I could hear her talking to
her dad but couldn't make out what they were saying.  Then I
heard Angie coming back up the stairs.  I was on my hands and
knees with my mouth piece in, slobber dripping down my chin, when
she walked in the door.  She walked over to me and knelt down
beside me.

Angie reached underneath me and squeezed my right tit then
pinched the nipple.  "Okay, Baby Girl, daddy is going to fuck you
now and I'm going to assist him and watch and learn."

I looked at her again with a frown or my best impression of a
frown with a mouth piece in my mouth.


"You're my property remember? I don't want anything happening to
my property and since you have been a good and loyal dog for me
the past couple of days, I think you deserve a treat."

I wagged my tail to show my appreciation.  Hot damn! I couldn't
wait to get that hot cock in my cunt tonight! I was happy.

"You stay right there and I will be right back," Angie smiled as
she stood up.  She leaned over and ran her fingers down my ass
crack then she walked out of the room.

I stayed on all fours like a good bitch waiting for my daughter
to return when I heard her walking into the room again and I
wagged my tail to show my enthusiasm.  I looked over at her and
would have gasped if I didn't have that damn mouth piece in.  My
twelve year-old daughter was wearing a denim mini-skirt with a
tight pink t-shirt.  She wasn't wearing her training bra as her
nipples were poking through the t-shirt and she had on white
ankle socks.  Christ she looked like a slut.

Angie saw my surprise and said, "I'm doing this for daddy, Baby
Girl.  He says has some serious blue balls," she giggled when she
said that, "and I want you and me to help him, well, mainly you.
I'm just gonna be eye-candy for him."

There was hardly time for my shock and disapproval to register
when I heard Bill walking up the stairs.  I was excited and
nervous at the same time.  Obviously I couldn't do anything about
Angie's near lack of clothes but I was excited at the thought of
seeing Bill's cock again.

"Damn!" he said as he walked into the bedroom.

"You like her dad?" Angie asked as she stood up from the bed.

"I like both of you!" he chuckled.  "You look good enough to
fuck!"

I gasped, hardly believing what he had said.

"Daddy, you know the arrangement!" Angie said, with a hint of
warning in her voice.

"I know honey, sorry, I couldn't help myself," Bill said and I
watched him looking her up and down. I was jealous that Bill's
attention was directed at his daughter and not me, his wife.  I
wagged my tail again and did my best impression of doggie whine.

"Don't worry Baby Girl, daddy is coming for you!" Angie smiled,
and then giggled at what she had said.  "Okay, dad, strip all the
way down," she said, almost like a command but not quite.  She
sat down on the bed and I turned around so I could watch too. I
had expected Bill to be embarrassed but was surprised that he
started undressing at once. When he pulled his underwear down his
cock popped right straight up, looking hard as a rock!

"Whoa!" Angie cried, staring at it. "Jesus, dad!"  Then she
laughed and put her hand to her mouth.

"What?" he asked as he looked down at his cock.  He stood there
with a proud look on his face, putting his hands on his hips and
moving them back and forth a little which made his cock swing
from side to side.  I looked at the expression on Angie's face as
she watched : it was pure excitement and lust, which made me
worry; my husband was here to fuck me and not her.

"Well not only that," she said pointing at his cock, "but also
that!" He had shaved his pubic hair off. He had done that a
couple of years ago, saying it gave his cock a different type of
feel to it.

Angie got off the master bed and walked over to me.  "Okay, dad,
on your knees and I will guide you into mom.  Remember, no hands.
 I don't want anything to happen to mom.  She's my
responsibility."

"Wait a minute, mom usually sucks me first, getting me nice and
hard for penetration," Bill chuckled.  I felt instantly
embarrassed, not just by him revealing such intimate details, but
also by his chuckle. Angie looked at me.

"Well, she has her mouth piece in, would that cause a problem?
She has to have it in to simulate a dog slobbering," Angie looked
back at her dad who was stroking his ten inches.

"Naw, shouldn't be too bad, I mean, there might be a little teeth
scraping on my cock but it should work." Again, I felt a moment
of resentment because of his tone, but when Bill walked around in
front of me, his cock swinging out in front of him, I could think
of nothing else but sucking it.  Damn that's a beautiful sight!

Bill knelt in front of me and started to grab my head like he
always did.  "No, wait a minute," our daughter said as she
scooted between us.  "No touching mom! Let me put your cock in
her mouth."

Bill smiled and I had a worried look on my face, at least I think
I did.

Angie took her index finger and thumb of her left hand and
daintily took hold of her father's cock. The other three fingers
were straight out as she pinched his cock with her index finger
and thumb. I could see the blood rushing into his cock meat; the
head of his cock was purple.  He was enjoying this.  Angie
giggled as she slowly brought his cock forward to my lips and
Bill of course leaned forward also helping his daughter guide his
cock.
When my husband's cock grazed my lips my clit jumped.  I suddenly
realised that Angie still hadn't taken the clit clamp off my
cunt.  I didn't know if she would allow her father to fuck me
with the clamp still attached.

Angie took her right and pushed the back of my head forward onto
his cock.  Bill's arms were at his side as our daughter slid his
cock into my slobbering mouth. I was suddenly aware of how
obscene I must have looked, my slobber running down my chin and
dripping down onto the carpet, like a bitch in heat, but by now I
was gripped by lust.

"Oh, man, that feels so fucking good!" Bill groaned, smiling.

Angie let go of her father's cock as he pushed forward with his
hips, pushing his cock deeper into my mouth and throat.  Oh how I
had longed for this, to feel his cock in my mouth. Trying to
avoid my mouth pieces, I licked my tongue across the tip and over
the head, looking for that rich taste of him that I had missed so
much.

And then I stopped.

Something tasted odd about his cock.  I know the taste of his
prick.  The White Redeemer knows that I had sucked my juices off
his cock too many times to count over the years.  But this was an
odd taste.

Then it hit me. What I was tasting on his cock was that of
another woman!

Fuck! How dare he!

Bill smiled as Angie pushed his cock down my throat almost
gagging me.  She was giggling and staring at my mouth watching
her father's cock move back and forth.

His cock had fucked another woman and the bastard didn't have the
common courtesy to clean it off! Ugghh! The fucker!

Tears started to form around my eyes.  He had betrayed our
marriage vows, he had fucked another woman.  I had an urge to
bite his cock off and spit it out at him but these damn rubber
pieces kept my jaws separated.

"Wow, this is a beautiful sight, dad! I've never seen something
like this before, well not in real life," Angie said as she
patted the top of my head, watching her father fuck my face.

A cock with another woman's cunt juice on it!

"This is a dream come true, sweetie.  Having you watch me fuck
your mother."  Bill had that dreamy look on his smug face
whenever I sucked him.  He always had liked me on my knees making
love to his cock without using my hands.  And normally, I had
always liked it.

But now? The bastard!

`How long does mom usually suck you?" Now Angie was playing with
my hair watching her father's cock slide in and out of my mouth;
her other hand was pressing against her crotch over the top of
her skirt.

"Oh, she usually sucks me to the point of cumming.  I mean, she
can sense when my cock is about shoot its stuff," the bastard
chuckled.

The fucker! He was talking about me as if I didn't exist. I
wondered if his girlfriend could tell when his cock was about to
shoot off. I felt desperately confused: I wanted this to stop, I
wanted to cry, to shout at the unfaithful bastard, to run from
the room and wash the taste of that whore's cunt from my mouth.
But all of that was impossible: I couldn't speak, I couldn't
move, because of the stupid uniform.

And there was something else, too: a desperate animal need inside
me to be fucked, one that Angie had built up in me. Now I was so
close: this lovely piece of meat was in my mouth, would soon be
in my cunt, stretching me, giving me release.

For another minute or so Angie didn't say anything as Bill's
breathing got deeper and faster.  He was fucking my face in
earnest now.  He would have to pull his cock out of my mouth
before he came because I sure as hell couldn't do it.  Plus, I
was mad knowing that I was sucking the other woman's juices off
his cock for him.  A good woman will suck her own juices off her
man's cock after he fucks her but apparently this bitch didn't do
that.

"Oh, God, I'm close, I have to pull out," Bill gasped as he took
hold of his cock.

That's right you fucker take your fucking cock out of my mouth! I
thought.  If I could spit I would.

Angie was sitting there with lust and excitement on her face. I
saw her hand move under her skirt and start to rub, and my cunt
spasmed. "That was so neat, dad.  How long do you last before you
pull out of mom's mouth?"

Bill sat back on his heels with his cock waving in front of my
face.  "Sometimes mom can suck for twenty minutes or so.  I like
to lay back and enjoy it, run my hands through her hair and rub
her cheeks."

"Neat!" Angie replied as she continued to rub.  Bill looked at
her and smiled.  "No looking daddy!" Angie said shyly, and her
cheeks reddened.

"Okay, okay," Bill replied as he stood up, his tone almost
annoyed.

"What happens after mom sucks you?" Angie asked, and I wondered
why she was asking so many questions.

"Well, if we're on the bed I usually turn her around so I can
fuck her from behind. Or I usually like it when she sits on me,
my cock sticking straight up into her cunt.  Or the missionary
position with me on top and her legs bent up towards her waist. 
It all depends on what I feel like doing," Bill replied as he
knelt behind me. As an afterthought, he added, "Umm, is it
alright if I say cunt to you?"

"You can say whatever you want, daddy! I think I got mom used to
my cursing and I like it when you talk dirty about her." She
paused. "So mom has no say in what position you fuck her in?"
Angie asked as she scooted down towards her father.

"Your mother is submissive by nature, Ang.  Deep down she likes
to be told what to do and how to do it, especially when it comes
to sex."

What the fuck? I do not! I wanted to scream.  I looked over my
shoulder at Bill who was smiling.  I swear I'm not submissive by
nature.  Yes, sometimes Bill likes his sex a certain way but I'm
happy if I can feel his cock inside me.

"Hold on dad, let me stick your cock in her!"

"By all means," Bill replied as he pulled his hands back. I
tensed, waiting for that first touch, that pressure, that
delicious feeling as he slid into me.

I was still looking over my shoulder when Angie moved her left
hand to her father's cock taking it between her index finger and
thumb as before.  It was almost like she didn't want to catch
some male disease from it the way she was handling it.

"Do you fuck mom much from the doggie position?" Angie asked as
she guided her father's cock towards my cunt.

"Hmm, sometimes, but your mother likes it on her back with her
knees over her head," Bill replied as he licked his lips.  "Are
you gonna take that clit clamp off her?"

Angie paused.  "Oh yeah, forgot about that.  Hmm, naw, I don't
think so.  I think it will heighten her sexual state."
"You're so bad, Ang! Now guide the head between her lips and then
I will take it from there." Bill's voice was more ragged now.
There was a pause, and then I felt the head of his cock touch
against my labia tentatively as Angie lined it up. Electricity
ran through me and my clit in the fucking clit-clamp.

"Fuck dad, she's dripping wet!" Angie panted.
Ahh, damn, that feels good!" Bill moaned as his cock head slipped
into the entrance of my cunt.

"Go ahead and push daddy," Angie giggled as she pulled her hand
away.  She then reached her right hand under me and started to
pinch and pull my nipples.

"Oh, god damn your mother feels good!" he moaned as he pushed his
cock all the way into me.
"Aaaaggghhhh!!" I moaned, feeling my cunt stretching, as I pushed
back and wiggled my hips. Slobber flowed from my mouth.

"Look at her go!" my daughter laughed as she pulled my right
nipple down.

"I know honey, her cunt is tight!" Bill panted between gasps of
breath.

"Uuuggghhh! Hmmmggghhh!" I went back and forth.  That damn clit
clamp was really working my clit, humming and vibrating with
every thrust of Bill's cock.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck!!" Bill said each time he thrust into me.

"Fuck her daddy! Fuck mommy hard!" Angie panted, her voice hoarse
with excitement.  She was really pulling and twisting my nipples
now.

"Oh yes darling, I'm doing it, fucking mom!" he gasped.

"Fuck my bitch daddy, yes!" Angie cried, removing her left hand
from my tit.

I looked back at her. She was sitting now, her legs splayed
apart, her eyes looking up at the cock pumping into me. I could
see her cunt, the little lips red and wet, her finger pushing
into it as she fucked herself.

A mist seemed to descend on me, an animal lust. I forgot about
anger, about the taste of another woman's cunt in my mouth and
abandoned myself. I wanted to be Angie's bitch whore, to do this
for her, to watch her cum as Bill pumped his spunk into me, as I
screamed my orgasm.

"Ugghh, aaahhhggg!" I slobbered. I was just about there, the
promised land of cums.

"Fuck her! Fuck her hard!" Angie cried.


"Damn, damn, fuck! This bitch is tight!" Bill groaned.  I could
feel his cock growing rock hard inside me, feel the first spasms
in my cunt.

"That's it daddy, fuck mommy! Fuck mommy like the dog is she is!
Fuck her bitch cunt!" Angie was fingering herself furiously now.
Damn it was dirty, watching my twelve year-old masturbate herself
off. I wanted her desperately, wanted bury my tongue inside her,
feel her spurt into my mouth.

"Fucking right, honey.  Her cunt is so tight! Ugghh, Ugghh," Bill
gasped.

"Oohhhh! Ugghhh! Ahhh!" I screamed or tried too.

"The bitch is coming, Ang! Your mother is cumming on my cock!"
Bill yelled out.

"Fuck her daddy! Fuck my bitch! Oh God, yeeeesss!" Angie moaned,
her fingers flashing, her cum building.

"Aaaahhhh!!" I moaned as I moved my hips and ass back and forth.
I was cumming and spasms of pleasure jolted through my body, the
clit clamp taking my breath away as I came. I tried to scream
through my mouth pieces, sending a spray of slobber in front of
me onto the bed.

"Fucking right! Ugghhh!" Bill yelled as he grabbed my hips and
jammed his cock deep into me. I felt myself filling as his cock
spurted spunk into my cunt.

"Yeeeesss! Oh god, yeesss! Aahhh!" Angie moaned and squirmed as
she came.

"Oh, fuck yes! God damn that feels good.  Your cunt feels like a
dream!" Bill gasped as he stopped pumping me.

Angie patted my head, breathing heavily.  "Very good, Baby Girl,
very good!" she said smiling at me as she slowly rubbed herself,
her body still jerking occasionally. Bill's cock slowly began to
shrink inside me. The whole fucking had taken about a minute. All
of us had been horny and needed release, and for a moment, nobody
spoke, just three people panting in the afterglow.

It was Bill who broke the silence. "Your mother is still a good
fuck! You did good Ang in keeping her in such a sexual state." He
laughed and slapped my ass cheek, and the painful sting seemed
clear my head and bring me back to reality.

"Thanks dad.  I've been working at it all weekend, but we still
have a long way to go in our training," Angie said proudly as she
sat back on her heels.

What about me? I asked myself. I just didn't like that Angie and
Bill were talking about me like I wasn't even there, and I felt
my anger returning.  I looked over at Angie and whined.  "Hmmm,
uugghh!" with slobber dripping down my chin.

"Oh, poor girl, I know, I know, you did very good too.  Daddy
enjoyed you!" Angie said as she stroked my head and rubbed her
crotch.

"You're still a good fuck, Kathy, I mean, Baby Girl.  I look
forward to doing this again." Bill said as his cock plopped out
of me.

I looked round at him, my eyes blazing with anger. Still a good
fuck? So why had he found it necessary to go dipping it into some
whore's fuck hole? The miserable bastard!

I looked at his cock and tried to sneer. It was still semi-hard
but I think that was because Angie was in the room.  I mean what
father who was nude in front of his daughter would not get hard
especially if his daughter was dressed as a slut. He stood up and
it dangled down and his balls still looked heavy. I could see his
spunk and my cunt juice glistening on it.

Angie took the bed cover and wiped my cunt with it. "Have to
clean off the mess," she said as she gently worked the cover of
the blanket into the folds of my cunt.

"Too bad your mother isn't flexible enough to lick herself like a
real dog would!" my husband laughed as he got off the bed.

What? The fucker! How could he talk about me like that? I mean,
fucking another woman and all.

Angie reached over, after wiping my cunt clean, into my mouth and
took out the rubber pieces.  I quickly licked my lips and
swallowed my slobber, and then turned round and looked at Bill.

"You fucker!" I yelled.

"What?" he asked in surprise, stepping back from me

"Mom?" Angie asked, startled.

"You fucked another woman didn't you?" I spat as I looked at him.
 I was still on my hands and knees with Angie kneeling next to me
on the bed.  I could tell by the look on his face that it was
true.  Bill looked at Angie then back at me.  He shrugged his
shoulders and nodded his head.

"I knew it, you fucking bastard! I could the taste the bitch on
your cock!" I said between clinched teeth.

"Mom, shut-up!" Angie ordered, surprise and alarm in her voice,
but I ignored her.

"Yes, I did, Kathy and you want to know why?" Bill stood there
with his hands on his hips.

"Yes, please tell us, you shit!"

"Mom, shut-up, I'm warning you!" Angie said as she stood up and
backed away from me.

"Because I was desperate.  I needed release and I need a cunt on
the end of my cock.  Nice, juicy, wet cunt and since Angie wasn't
letting me play with you I took my pleasure elsewhere."

Angie looked angrily back and forth between us

"You fuck! You didn't even have the common courtesy of cleaning
your cock off.  I had to taste her, you bastard."

I heard and felt a click around my neck.  I looked in anger at
Angie who was holding my leash.  She had clipped it to my collar.

"Get off the fucking bed now, mom," Angie ordered me but it
didn't register with me, my anger still boiling inside me.

"But Angie, don't you see, your shit of a father has been fucking
some whore. He couldn't even be bothered to clean his cock." I
looked at her, trying to make her understand. "I could taste her
cunt on him!"

"Get off the bed, NOW!" she shouted.

Her sudden anger startled me.  Angie pulled hard on my leash
which pulled my neck towards her.  "Get off the bed and on the
floor now, bitch!" Angie yelled.  Bill looked equally startled
and was about to say something.

I quickly moved in her direction and jumped off the bed to the
floor at her feet.  Angie tucked viciously on the leash, almost
pulling me over, and stomped out of the bedroom pulling me behind
her.  "Come on you fucking doggie bitch!"

We went down the hallway to her bedroom and to her closet.  She
stomped into the room and I was trying to keep pace, crawling
behind her.  I was suddenly nervous, I was shaking. I could never
remember seeing her this angry, and I was going to be punished I
just knew it.  Would it be the ruler? Or the newspaper?

"Get out of the uniform and stand up, Baby Girl!" Angie ordered
as she unclipped the leash from my dog collar. I rushed to take
it off, my fingers fumbling with nerves, slowing me down, but
eventually managed to remove it.

"Stand there!" She pointed in the closet.

I stepped into the closet.  I was shaking with fear but my
nipples were sticking straight out.  Amazingly, I realised I was
excited.

Angie went to her dresser and pulled out a ball of yarn from the
top drawer.  She walked back to me unrolling the yarn in her
hands.

"Put your neck on the bar, Baby Girl!" Her voice was cold,
clipped.

"Angie, please," I tried to say.

[SLAP] Angie reached up and slapped the side of my face.  That
startled me and almost made me fall back into the closet. 
"Mistress Angie, mother! I am mistress Angie to you!" she
shouted. " Shut up!"

"Please, Mistress Angie," I tried to say again.

[SLAP] again on my right cheek.

Tears formed at the corner of my eyes. That stung.  "I'm your
mother, Mistress Angie!" I said lamely. Couldn't she understand
how I felt?

[SLAP] on my right cheek again.  I saw her hand come up to slap
me and I could have grabbed her arm and stopped her, but for some
reason I did not.  Angie was staring at me; no that wasn't right,
she was glaring at me.

"You're my loyal dog, mother.  A stupid, fucking, loyal dog to be
trained for a competition.  Don't give me that look mother, you
agreed to it.  Now stand still and put your neck on the bar."

I gasped. I wanted to protest her description of me, wanted to
explain how I felt, but instead I put my head on the bar like she
ordered.  How could I be so stupid? As my twelve year-old
daughter wound the yarn around the bar and my neck she looked at
me.

"Don't you remember the sermon this morning? About mistresses? I
knew daddy was fucking another bitch.  He asked me several times
if he could fuck you," Angie said a matter-of-factly. Her tone
was still angry and cold.

I dropped my shoulders and felt my tears begin to flow.  I
believed in the White Redeemer gospel and therefore I believed in
the sermon today, but it was so hard to find out like this, so
hard to accept.  "Is she at his office?" I whispered wondering
who she was.

"Yes, that is why dad left for work early each day and went to
the office yesterday.  Don't be mad at him Baby-Girl."

I gasped again and stared back at her in amazement. How could she
say that? How could I not be mad at him?

For the first time she smiled at me and her voice softened. "I
know it must be a shock to you, to find out he is just like
everyone else. Think about what the reverend said, about not
being jealous of a mistress." She wiped her finger softly through
my tears. "And most of all, remember you belong to me now. Why
would you need him?"

I nodded my head in agreement the best I could.

 "I'm not going to cuff your ankles or wrists because I trust you
to stay here like a good dog.  Can I trust you, Baby Girl?" Angie
asked me with her eyebrows raised and her hands on her hips.

"Yes," I said as best I could with my jaw against the clothes
bar.

"Oh, and mother, you do know the woman who dad fucked.  She was
at that first meeting the other day," Angie said as she stepped
back and admired her handy work.

"There were a lot of women there, mistress," I pointed out to
her, trying to remember names and faces.  I shifted back and
forth on my feet.  It was uncomfortable standing there with my
neck tied to the clothes bar.

Angie ignored me at first.  "I forgot something," she said.  She
knelt down in front of me and reached up to my crotch,  taking my
clit clamp off my raw clit.  Damn it felt good to get that little
torture piece off my cunt.

"Thank you mistress," I gasped as the thing was removed.  "That
damn clit clamp drove me crazy!" I said trying to make a joke of
it.  I moved my thighs back and forth trying to rub my crotch.

Angie stood up and walked to her desk.  She got out another clit
clamp and returned.  "Not so fast Baby Girl," she replied waving
the replacement clit clamp in my face.  "I think this clamp works
wonders on your behavior.  Besides, you will need it on you this
week when I go back to school."

"Mistress Angie," I said but she cut me off.

"Hush, mother.  Be a good dog and obey me," my twelve year-old
daughter said, smiling up at me as she knelt before me again and
fixed that damn clamp to my tender clit. I moaned as I felt the
slight vibration. Fuck not again! I thought.

"Miss Ida Carter and her daughter Helen," was all Angie said as
she looked me up and down again.

"What?" I couldn't believe my hearing.

"Ida Carter, she works in dad's office.  She's in charge of the
building janitor crew," Angie said as she walked over to her bed
and sat down.  "She got a divorce several months ago and is on
the prowl for a male."

My first thought was that the janitors were all female, of
course.  "Ida Carter, mistress?"

"Yes, mom and her daughter Helen who is eight years-old.  They
were at the elementary school table."

"But..."

"No buts mother.  I've known since Friday when daddy told me.  He
has needs to you know."

"I have needs too, mistress," I stammered.  I wasn't sure I
should have admitted that.

Angie paused and looked at me. "I also have needs, mother," she
said as we stared at each other.  "Now be a good mother and be
quiet.  I'm going downstairs and your punishment is to be quiet
and behave yourself."

"Yes, mistress," I said in embarrassment.  So it had come to this
finally; me, the parent, obeying my child, just like Miss Wagner
said.  Angie walked downstairs and I wondered if Mrs Ida Carter
would come to house in the near future and see me in this state.
I shuddered, wondering how I would cope with such a meeting,
having tasted her cunt. Then I got mad at Bill for having the
aroma and the dried juices of Miss Ida Carter on his cock.  A
flood of emotions came over me that I had to control.  Maybe
Angie knew this would happen and figured that I could deal with
it.

**

Later that night, as I lay in bed, my ankles tied to the bed rail
and my neck to the headboard, Angie rubbed herself against me
again, but this time I knew she was awake. As her little body
shuddered against me, once more I felt her warm cum on my thigh,
and sparks of love and lust spread through me. I wanted
desperately to hold her, to kiss her, not as her mother, but as a
lover, but I stayed still and was silent, like an obedient dog.
When her breathing had steadied and the spasms had faded, she
leant up and kissed me gently on the mouth.

I knew then, I wouldn't want to be anywhere else but in bed with
my daughter.

End of Part 5