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From: "Mr. Ed" <thepooch@home.com>
Subject: Pooch's Story Part 2 (Bdsm, S&M, torture, scat, M/F, F/F)
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Over the next few weeks the entire Pooch story, as written  so far, will
be reposted. New cahpters will appear each Saturday.  After chapter 12
is reposted, the new Chapter 13 Pooch's Punishment will be posted.
As always I look forward to any comments that you may wish to email me
at thepooch@home.com
Mr. Ed


Part 2 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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