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From: edwardt@interlog.com (Mr. Ed)
Subject: Pooch's Story Part1 (Repost, BnD, S&M, Slave, Scat)
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This is my first effort at fantasy literature. Constructive criticism
is welcome all other will be disregarded. The story is bondage and
discipline based. If this is not your cup of tea  please read no
further 

POOCH'S STORY      Part1
Coming Home 
The rain sheets down as Pooch hurriedly makes her way  towards the old
brownstone at the end of  Kennel St. She is running as fast as she can
in her chunky pumps but it is still awkward. She would make better
time in stocking feet but she doesn't dare remove the shoes for fear
of ruining her nylons. A million thoughts run through her head one of
which is that her running will put a ladder in her stockings. It's
only September  and she has but six good stockings  to last till the
new year.  Her back and shoulders ache from the days work in the
picture frame plant and her lungs are sore from the run from the bus
stop. She can feel a blister developing on her left heel. Still she
keeps running because the overriding question in her mind is how late
is she?   The cold rain soaking the pink sweater was hardly a concern.
The run had made Pooch felt hot. She knew she was late and that made
her feel ill. 
Up the front steps of the house she raced. The outside door was
unlocked, thank God she thought. In she slid closing the door behind
her. Pooch found herself in a small portico, empty except for the
large coconut mat in the corner  by the outside door. In one of the
side walls between the outside and the inside door was a milk door.
Pooch opened it and quickly placed her shoes inside. The pink cardigan
was unbuttoned, removed,  folded in four and placed on top of the
shoes   Next she reached back to the zipper  on the back of her dress
and pulled it down. The simple brown dress with a flower print slid
off her shoulders. Pooch stepped out of it folded the dress and placed
it in the milk box. She was now dressed in just a rather worn looking
white brassier, a similarly  old  looking white garter belt and plain
taupe stockings. The right one had a nasty run at the heal, near the
point where she had felt the blister. Pooch was hairless below her
neck. This was made obvious  by her lack of panties. Panties were not
allowed. During her period Pooch could wear a diaper, but that was as
close to panties as she ever came. She also had no watch, no jewelry,
no handbag, no wallet, no keys and no money. They were all forbidden.
Pooch saw the run in the stocking and bit her lower lip. This was  not
turning out  to be a good day. 
There was no hesitation in removing the rest of the clothing. Every
moment was important. If Ed unlocked the  door to the inside of the
house and saw her out of position there would be extra punishment.
The under clothes were shoved into the milk compartment and the door
shut. Pooch gave the handle a turn and this locked the milk door.  Her
clothes were now out of reach and she was totally nude. Pooch now
turned towards the right front corner of the entry way, where the
cocoa mat was and kneeled on it being careful to be very close to the
wall but not to touch it. Her toes pointed straight back and she
kneeled at attention with her hands at her sides and fingers pointing
straight down. All was quiet. 
Where Pooch had felt hot just minutes age she now began to feel
chilled. She was wet from the rain and the portico had no heating
duct. It was  a cold wet fall. She could stand the chill, it was the
waiting she hatted. Pooch knew that the longer it Took Ed to open the
door the more severe her punishment would be. Ed checked for her about
once every twenty minutes. If he opened the door and she was out of
position the door would be closed again and she would have to wait
another twenty minutes. That would be counted as the amount of time
she was late. The time she actually got home didn't matter. If Ed was
in a foul mood he might make her wait even longer and use that time to
build up his own anger. 
Today was her fourtieth birthday. No one would remember, she thought.
After all who ever heard of a slaves birthday?  Pooch did and it made
her a bit more sad. Time was passing by and she knew the rest of her
life  would be spent in bondage. She just couldn't  know to whom. Ed
had said many times that when she no longer pleased him she would be
sold. Although life was harsh  now it would be much worse if she were
sold. At her age she would be no more than a piece of meat to someone
who saw a quick profit in using her as a sub in an s&m brothel or the
star of some snuff film. All traces of her pathetic existence would
probably be erased in a vat of acid. The thought that things could
actually be worse was not a lot of comfort.  Pooch knew she would be
howling later tonight. 
For  someone of forty  with ten years spent in slavery Pooch was still
in remarkably good shape. At 5'8" and 110 pounds she was as thin as a
rail except for a full pair of breasts, 36C. With her arms raised
every rib was clearly visible. Ed thought this was sexy and he made
sure that her weight didn't increase. Her brown hair was cut in a
short pageboy style inspired by pictures of ancient Egyptian slaves.
This was a style simple enough for Pooch to be able to cut herself
with scissors and a mirror. It required no upkeep. It didn't cover any
of her assets and most important to Ed it didn't get in the way of a
good hiding. Large,  blue eyes softened the other features of her face
making pooch look a bit younger than her years. Her nose was of
average size straight with just a small bulb on the end and a slight
bump in the middle where it had been broken once when Ed was in a
drunken fit. Her face had a collision with his knee. The massive
bleeding had scared the hell out of Ed and it hadn't happened again.
He was good with his hands and when he sobered up he packed Pooches
nose with cotton and reset the soft bone himself. There would be no
emergency room for Pooch. Ed had actually done a pretty good job. The
weight that Pooch did carry was almost all muscle. Bone protruded at
the points of her hips and there was no padding on her ass or thighs
just nice muscle definition  The muscles of her calves, stomach, back
and shoulders were also well defined. Her build was no accident. It
was the result of hard labour and a compulsory training program.
Pooches' breasts sagged a bit, normal for any woman over twenty-five.
In her case they had been beaten, twisted, stretched, clamped, tied,
pierced, bitten, pinched and burned on a regular basis. Ed loved what
he referred to as tit play.  A dark ring surrounded the base of each
breast where they were tied by  the tit rope so many times that the
rope had left  permanent marks. Each breast was covered with tiny
small scars and bruises. Those tits kept reminded her of their
existence all times. Her naked mons fared little better. The flesh had
turned brown and was constantly swollen. The colour helped to hide
marks and bruising but the nerves were alive and well. When her legs
were spread three eyelets could be seen running along the length of
each of her inner pussy lips. These had been inserted a long time ago
using a  tool from the shoe making trade. When these had been
inserted, it was one of the very few times Pooch had passed out from
pain. Little plugs of flesh had actually been punched out with a
leather punch and then the eyelets were inserted and permanently set.
Since Ed had read that one could avoid passing out through conscious
effort this was now considered a serious offense and was punished as
such. The most striking feature of Pooch's naked  body however were
the marks covering her back. This was Ed's living canvas. Her muscular
back was covered with weales, bumps and bruises colored from yellow to
purple. the marking ran from the bottom of her buttocks right up to
the tops of her shoulders. Soon this painting would be refreshed.
Her life was very structured and governed by strict rules. She owned
nothing and possessing anything other then the clothes on her back
was forbidden, thus no money, purse, keys etc. Entertainment of any
sort was not allowed, no television, radio, books, magazines or
newspapers. Outside the house Pooch was not to be assertive with
anyone. In the house things went much further. There was no talking
unless spoken to and then only to respond to what was asked. She was
never to give an opinion, argue or ask for anything. In the house her
gaze was to be directed at peoples feet, never their face. Obedience
was to be absolute, with no hesitation, and this extended to anyone in
the house. She was responsible for all the cooking and house work. No
decisions were her own. Pooch was told when and what  to eat, when to
use the toilet or in her case bucket, when and where to sleep etc.
There could be no friendships or communications with anyone outside
the house. Touching herself was one of the most serious infractions.
Masturbation was a totally selfish act and slaves lived only to please
their masters, never themselves. Ed actually kept a book filled with
rules along with minimum punishments. He also wrote down every
infraction so that if he saw Pooch in frequent violation of any rule
the punishment would be increased till her behavior was corrected. He
kept this as a permanent record with no expiry.  She couldn't get over
how awful it felt to be confronted with things she had done eight or
nine years ago but everything was part of the permanent record.  
The bristles  from the mat were starting to irritate Pooch's knees and
especially the tops of her feet. Ed seemed to delight in finding was
to make every routine a little more difficult or uncomfortable for
her. Kneeling on the tile floor  would be just too easy. There is
nothing like waiting to make time slow to a crawl. The minutes slowly
passed. The sick feeling in her stomach got worse. "Please, please
open the door", she thought. Finally she heard the bolt turn and the
door open.
"Well you shit faced whore your fourty minutes late", Ed yelled at her
in his most intimidating voice.
"It's the second time this month. I guess I didn't create a strong
enough impression on you last time, isn't that right whore "?
Pooch knew better than to disagree. "Yes master. I'm sorry master".
"Well you're going to remember this time and your going to remember
for a very long time".
"Get up and start my dinner and don't bother putting on the serving
outfit you've wasted enough time. Marla will be coming over later and
there is much to do".   
"Thank goodness for small favors" Pooch thought. 
She hated the serving outfit which was a bit like a french maid
costume with only the cap, a tiny apron, black  fishnet stockings,
garter belt and extremely high stiletto heels with a heavy ankle strap
ensuring they stayed on. The shoes had been purchased from a specialty
shop deliberately a size too small. They hurt her feet terribly and
slowed everything down. Hearing that Marla was coming over was another
matter. Pooch hatted Marla in a way that she hatted no one else. She
was Ed's girl friend and a lot prettier and younger than she. Marla
loved to flaunt her relationship with Ed in Pooch's face. She was
extremely smart, a court room lawyer, and she was an unrepentant
sadist that liked inflicting psychological torture as much as
physical. Although nobody else knew it, Pooch was more of a reason for
Marla spending time with Ed than he was. The fact that Marla knew that
Pooch hatted her and yet had to be just as obedient to her orders as
she was to Ed's was just so delicious.
"There will be no dinner for you tonight" Ed said.
Pooch figured as much. She was almost never fed before a whipping
because there was too much danger of choking on her own vomit if she
were gagged.
She got up on her toes and keeping her eyes down walked past Ed into
the house and toward the kitchen. 






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