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From: edwardt@interlog.com (Mr. Ed)
Subject: Pooch's Story Part2 (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      Part2

Evening Rituals  
Ed was holding the small rubber whip which raised the nastiest welts
and stung like a dozen bees. He also smelled of alcohol. These were
very bad signs for Pooch. She knew Ed rarely carried around the
"supervisor", as he called the small whip, unless he intended to use
it and alcohol made him much freer in administering discipline. 
"Hurry up". 
She heard the whip crack and then felt the sting on her right side
intensify to a burn.   
Pooch held her breath and ran to the kitchen. "Fuck that hurts" she
thought. Tears started forming in her eyes but not a sound escaped her
throat. 
"Marla said that she thought I had been too easy on you and I think
she's right."
Ed left for the library  without another word while Pooch was left to
contemplate that bitches ever increasing influence on him. She
couldn't help it but it made her blood boil. 
Pooch quickly prepared a tossed  salad and placed a salmon steak on
the frying pan. It was Friday and on Fridays Ed liked to have fish. It
was a part of his Catholic upbringing. There was still some wine left
from the previous day.  She poured a glass and set it down beside
Ed's plate on the kitchen table. Pooch didn't want Ed to get any more
intoxicated  but he liked wine with his meal so that was that. Just as
the fish was cooked Ed walked in and sat down. The "supervisor' was
stuck through his belt. Pooch served the fish and stepped back two
steppes from the table waiting to serve any of Ed's needs. 
"Have your heels touched the floor since you've  been home this
evening"? 
"No master" Pooch answered.
"Put tape on your heels"
"Yes master", she answered.
Pooch went over to one of the kitchen drawers and removed two squares
of double sided tape. She discarded the cover paper and applied one
square to the bottom of each heal. If the heel touched the floor, or
anything else for that matter, it would pick up evidence  that she had
broken one of the rules. She must only walk on her toes while
barefoot. Pooch returned to her spot.
"More wine" barked Ed.
Pooch poured a second glass.
"Is there any pie left" ?
"Yes master"
"Good. Cut me a slice and then straighten up the house. I want the
house neat and the dishes done by 7:30. At  7:30 I want you in the
playroom with your ankles fastened for the bar. You're going to get
forty  with the "big boy" for being late today. One stroke for every
minute. I think that will get your attention. Oh, and when Marla gets
here we are going to have a little court session with her as judge.
Thanks to her advise I've done some surveillance on you and found that
you have been less than honest. That will be all."
Pooch was floored. Forty stokes with the "big boy", what could he be
thinking? The big boy was a three inch wide urethane strap, three feet
long, a quarter inch thick  attached to a wooden handle with a `knob
and loop of leather at the end to go around Ed's wrist. About every
three quarters of an inch in any direction there was a hole drilled
through the strap to let air pass through and prevent the blows being
softened by a cushion of air. This was insanity she thought. She had
received twenty strokes once before and besides going delirious from
the pain she couldn't straighten up for a week and then only with
great difficulty. If she survived forty, Pooch was convinced, she
would be crippled for life. And then Ed expected to have some court
session after that?  "Good luck, I'll be dead", she thought. Now there
was a clue to his foul mood. He had caught her breaking the rules and
it was all thanks to that bitch Marla. What had he caught her doing?
She felt like she was going to throw up. She felt her life was over.
Despite  the feelings of impending doom Pooch bore down and finished
her chores. The bed was made, carpets vacuumed, dishes washed and
items straightened. Shortly before 7:30 Pooch made her way down the
cellar steps to the "playroom". 
The playroom, as Ed called it, evoked no thoughts of play for Pooch.
It was a cold, damp, dark and unpleasant  place by design. It had been
built by Pooches own labor. It was lower than the rest of the basement
by some two feet and was entered through a double thick,  windowless,
steel door. A heavy rubber gasket around  the edge created a total
seal. The room was a large square shape with an aggregate cement
floor, concrete block walls and a wood beam ceiling. Illumination came
from a single bare light bulb  placed near the base of one wall
creating shadows that went up instead of down for a very macabre
effect. There was  a torch on each wall for effect, though they were
seldom used. The air was damp and pungent. A hole had been cut into
the main sewer pipe which ran down one corner of the room and a small
bracket had been inserted into the pipe. waste running down the pipe
would hit  the bracket and a small amount would splash out of the
hole. This constantly renewed the biological materials growing on most
of the surfaces. To one side was a medieval looking gynecologists
table  made from rough hewn wood  with stirrups  projecting  of one
end and leather straps everywhere. The largest item, in the room was a
rack. Again it was of rough wood construction  with chains and
manacles for the ankles at one end and similar fixtures for the wrists
attached to a giant wood drum at the other end. Many iron rings were
embedded in the walls and floor. On the ceiling were four pulleys
allowing each limb to be attached and adjusted separately. On the wall
just to the side of the door  was a storage area for the assorted
whips, binders, cuffs, harnesses, clamps, dildos  and other toys. One
item that didn't seem to fit into the room was a reclining leather
chair set well above the filthy floor on a large wooden box. It almost
had a throne like quality. It was Marla's seat and Pooch had to make
sure she cleaned it every day. The bitch didn't want to get her
clothes soiled while she watched her suffer. In one corner, set into
the floor was a two foot  square iron plate with a large ring  in the
center, which acted as a handle. A couple of bolts on opposite sides
of the plate entered the concrete so that it could not be  pushed up
from below. This was the entry to "the pit", a seven foot deep  hole
with concrete walls and a dirt floor. When in the pit it was like
being buried alive except you couldn't lie down. Pooch walked down the
steps and walked straight ahead toward the opposite wall. Five feet
from the wall  and parallel to it was a "T" formed from a couple of
two inch metal pipes. It had been embedded at least a foot into the
concrete floor  was as wide as Pooch's hips and the top was hip high.
On the floor , about a foot past each end of the  T, on the floor,
were short chains with leather ankle cuffs attached. Pooch took a pair
of leather wrist cuffs, which had been resting on the top of the T and
tightened the Velcro straps around her wrists. She then spread her
legs, squatted down and fastened each ankle  to a cuff on the floor.
She then stood up straight, always careful to stay on her toes, placed
her hands behind her head and stood facing the back wall with the top
of the T just touching the front of her hips. She now waited for Ed
and possibly a painful end to her life. Pooch began to actually
tremble from fear.
Ed walked in shut the door behind him and walked to the back well.
"Give me your wrists".
Pooch bent at the waist, hips over the crossbar and extended her arms
over her head stretching  toward the back wall, her back  parallel to
the floor. Ed grabbed each wrist pulled it as tight as he could and
attached each to separate chains on the wall. Pooch was stretched
tight with the cross bar bruising her hips. A wave of panic began to
overtake her. Ed walked to the storage area and picked up the big boy
along with a bit gag. He walked back to Pooch's straining body and
used it as a table to set down the strap and gag.
"Before I start your punishment I have something to say to you and you
will have a decision to make."  Ed had her undivided attention. Dare
she hope that she might get out of this? "About ten years ago you
agreed to be my slave and accept, absolutely, everything that would
come from that decision. For all the years since then you have lived
up to that agreement and for the most part you have been magnificent.
I never dreamed that I would find somebody like you and you have made
the last ten years  more enjoyable, more loving and more exciting than
any man deserves. Thank you Pooch. Thank you very much.  I love you
with all my soul. I love you much more than you might think". Ed's
voice was soft and a bit unsteady. 
"Today is your fortieth birthday" Ed continued, "and I feel we have
come to a crossroads. Lately things have become a bit stagnant between
us and I don't think that you have been very happy. I know that I've
told you that when you stopped pleasing me that I would sell you to
some white slavers and that would be the end of it, but Pooch I just
can't do that. I don't have it in me. 
Pooch stared at her dangling bruised tits. She was totally confused.
He loves me, he's tired of me, he's going to get rid of me, he's not
going to get rid of me, what's going on? It's true that she hadn't
been deliriously happy lately but she was still trying her best.
Hadn't she walked into the position she was in now knowing it may mean
the end of her life. She no longer had any other life. Tears began to
well up in her eyes.
"Things are going to have to change because I don't think a long,
drawn out decline in this relationship is what either of us want, so
this is the choice that you must make". 
"The first choice is that we end our relationship right now. I will
provide you with enough money to start a new life. You will agree to
reside somewhere  distant from her and we will never see each other
again. There would be no whipping but instead I will drive you
downtown and let you go".
"The second choice is that you accept what you have coming to you and
believe me I am not going to hold back. You will then go to trial for
your past transgressions. Marla will be the judge and you will agree
to accept any judgment that she may hand down. I will also warn you
that Marla will be moving in with me permanently and you will serve
two masters full time. With Marla here all the time things will be a
lot harder on you and I think that that is just what it might take to
make things exciting again". 
"I will give you a minute to choose. If you choose to stay then just
open your mouth wide and I will put the bit in your mouth and start
your whipping. If you choose to leave then say so and I will let you
go. This is not a trap of any sort" 
One minute to make the most important decision of her life seemed
highly unfair. "Ed's probably thought about this for weeks and I get a
minute while stretched out waiting for a whipping", thought Pooch. She
didn't want to get this beating and the thought of serving Marla all
the time was repulsive. Ed was right, things had become stale, the
excitement was gone, replaced by day to day drudgery. Yet she had no
desire to go back to a vanilla lifestyle and she thought that at her
age she didn't have much chance of finding someone to replace  Ed,
especially someone she could trust to survive another ten years with.
He must also have something in mind with regards to this punishment
session that would leave her intact. After all she had been Ed's slave
for a long time and was still healthy. Somehow things will work out.
Pooch opened her mouth wide. 
Ed placed the bit in her mouth and strapped it in tight pulling back
the corners of her mouth almost to her ears. "I'm glad you decided to
stay Pooch, I hope you don't regret it. Just never forget that this
was your choice. Now I think it's appropriate that I get Marla in here
to help celebrate our new beginning". He walked back and opened the
playroom door. Looking back between her spread legs Pooch could see
Marla walk down the steps. She was wearing judges robes and carrying a
bottle of Champaign in one hand and a couple of glasses in the other.
She placed the items down on the box carrying her chair and walked
over to nervous prisoner.
"Well well well, you decided not to leave us. I'm so glad. It's going
to be so much fun training you to respond to my tastes. I'm sure that
soon you'll wish you made the other choice. Ed, why don't you pour us
a glass? Too bad that Pooch's mouth too full to have a drink. I know,
pour some Champaign over her back, that would be even more
appropriate".
He poured the Champaign first into the glasses and then onto Pooch,
wetting her  from the nape of the neck to the crack of her but.  Marla
coolly held her glass in one hand and smeared the spilled bubbly all
over the slaves back and ass. "The strap will make a louder sound she
said and it will sting the broken skin. To the three of us", Marla
toasted. "To the three of us" , answered Ed. "Just remember how I
showed you to swing that thing. Step into the stroke", reminded Marla.
"My God!" thought Pooch, "It looks like the bitch is going to be
calling the tune. I don't need this". Ed helped Marla up into her
chair, had another sip of champagne, put down the glass and picked up
the big boy.




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