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From: edwardt@interlog.com (Mr. Ed)
Subject: Pooch's Story (Part 11b) (BdSM, slave, FF/F, scat, severe)
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Following behind her superiors Pooch lifted a leg to take the first
step up the stairs, and out of the hell that the playroom had become,
she was hit with a stabbing pain in her lower gut. The step had caused
some compression on her inflamed cervix and now it started to heat up.
The nerves normally reserved for detecting heat were becoming
compressed and firing. Each step up the stairs refreshed the stabbing
pain. The slave kept going knowing that the only way she could keep
living would be to work through the pain.

Pooch would do everything for her mistress and Ed. In addition, her
mouth would become her Mistress's private commode and her tongue would
replace all uses for toilet paper. She would do all cooking, cleaning,
and laundry. She would help dress and undress the household. She would
be called to turn the controls of the television or radio as she
became the universal  remote control. Pooch would run baths and do the
lathering of her Master and Mistress. She would pick up the napkin
that fell off Ed's lap and replace it. She would even iron the socks,
and make sure closets were always organized and neat. Pooch would put
on and remove all shoes and keep them impeccably cleaned and polished.
She would provide the entertainment, thoughit it wouldn't  be very
entertaining to Pooch herself.  She would be the maid. Most important
of all she would earn enough moneyto make Marla rich..

While mistresses one and two ate their omelets in the living room
Pooch stood at strict ‘attention’ waiting, no trying to anticipate
their needs. ‘Attention,’ for Pooch meant standing straight with her
legs spread as far as her irons would allow, hands behind her head,
fingers interlaced, and elbows pointing straight out to the sides.
They may have been wasting precious time making her wait when she
could have been working on her chores, but that was not Pooch's
concern now.  To follow instructions not question, to suffer not have
kindness or comfort were her role now. Long after they had taken their
last bite Pooch was instructed to fetch the bowl of vomit, and meet
them in the kitchen. "Put the bowl down on the floor," Marla
instructed. "Slaves eat off the floor. Not because you still retain
some humanity, but because I don't want to stop and redo your
makeup,..... you can use a spoon." "Kneel in front of the bowl."

"You know that I shouldn't be giving you a spoon. what I would really
like to do is step on your head and shove that sluty face right to the
bottom of the bowl and hold you there till your nose and eyes were
full of vomit. How dare you puck out my glorious shit. My shit is a
gift to you to be treasured and appreciated and not brought
up......... You just don't know how much that pisses me off."

"Before you begin to eat your lunch you better take a minute to review
the commandments I've given you. Both Shandra and I will be watching
for you to fuck up. I can't wait till you do."

Pooch was devastated by Marla's words. She knew damn well what they
meant. They meant that she would now be putting on a show. Pooch would
have to show no reluctance to do what she was told and she had to show
great pleasure in performing this most repulsive task. It also
probably meant that she couldn't let any of the vial substance dribble
down her chin or she would be guilty of sloppiness.  The worst of it
was that she knew that she would not be allowed to succeed. She would
be pushed till she failed and then she would be punished for failure.
She would now pretend to enjoy her mistress's regurgitated feces so
that later she could be whipped for not enjoying them enough. And so
the charade began.

Pooch was given an old wooden spoon. One where the front edge had worn
down and there were slivers of wood missing making for a jagged edge.
It would not be easy to avoid getting vomit smeared all over her face
because the spoon was big for her mouth. Pooch could sense that there
would be a collision between the shit going down and the shit coming
up. It would end up spewing all over the room as both her stomach and
lungs joined forces to clear her body of  what she just had to somehow
keep down.

On her knees and bending over the bowl Pooch dipped the spoon into the
center of the excrement and smiled a wide broad grin. Her look said,
"I just can't wait to get this spoon to my mouth. I love to eat other
peoples regurgitated shit."

Pooch was now far too terrified of the whip to put anything less than
her best effort into the performance. She completely blanked out of
her mind what it was that she was eating. Everything went into
maintaining the smile and being ladylike when trying to get the big
spoon into her mouth. She new that there was no real chance of Marla
being satisfied with her but if there was so much as a tiny sprig of a
chance she had to try......And so the spoon kept going down empty and
coming back up full. What she had already once consumed, early that
morning Pooch ate up for the second time. Each spoonful became more
difficult to get down than the last. She had to time swallowing
between bouts of heaving.  Pooch prayed that the heaving wouldn't be
considered as signs of revulsion, but how else would Mistress
interpret it? Maybe, she though, if I could truly imagine my Mistress
as being a real Goddess then maybe I can imagine the shit as being
very good? So she pictured Marla sitting on a golden throne, her
radiance glowed creating it's own light. Marla was the most
magnificent female in the universe. Provocatively dressed and
flawlessly coiffured. 

Pooch was right. It made getting down the poop a lot easier. The
vision of Marla lingered in the slaves mind for a long time after the
last bit of brown had been licked out of the bowl and Shandra picked
it up for an inspection. Pooch had certainly tried to get every last
spec of brown off of the bowl. After all the she had eaten there was
no significance to avoiding the last few bits. Pooch prayed she hadn't
missed any. Shandra just handed the bowl over to Marla without a word.
Marla looked at it then put it down,.... again without a word. She
didn't need any more cause to punish Pooch. There was quite enough as
it were.

"As you continue to straighten the house I wasn't you to check and see
if we need anything at regular intervals. I expect the house neat and
tidy by 4:30.  That's when my guests and technical crews will start
showing up and you will receive final preparations for tonight. Don't
embarrass me"

Pooch didn't fail to see the irony in Marla's statement. Her mistress
was doing everything in her power to maximize her humiliation and yet
was concerned that perhaps the house might not look tidy enough for
her depraved friends. The knowledge that her punishment would not be a
private affair between herself and her mistress but rather a public
spectacle with assistants and an audience sent new waves of terror
through her already over stressed mind. Marla, alone, punishing her
was cause enough for concern but Marla trying to impress an audience
was cause for sheer terror. Again  Pooch had to fight back her
stomach's desire to revolt.

Pooch pushed herself as hard as she could to accomplish her task of
straightening out the shambles that was Ed's house. In a way she was
grateful for the task and the pressure to complete it because it
allowed her to think about something other than what going to happen
that evening. Catering to the whims of the two women, however, did
become quite an annoyance. They were watching torture videos and
discussing the merits and the pitfalls of what was happening, on the
screen. Marla was taking notes. It was something that the slave would
rather not have seen but the constant trips into the living room to
check on the women combined with the times that she would be called
into the room for some trivial reason  like adjusting the volume on
the television, made it impossible for Pooch not to notice what was
going on.

Pooch saw a woman, perhaps in her late thirties or early forties, much
like herself bent over a bar and having her ample derričre literally
being removed, chunk by chunk, with a barbed flail just like the one
now hanging from the wall, like a piece of art. Chunks of flesh could
be scene being ripped out with every lash. When the flogging stopped
for a moment it wasn't to provide the hysterical victim with a moment
of rest but rather so that the torturer cold scoop out a handful of
salt from a barrel placed beside her and rub it into the hamburger
that had once been her seat. Pooch could not believe that this poor
woman remained conscious, but not a single woman, that Pooch witnessed
being taken apart  that afternoon, ever passed out.

Another time a young blonde lady, just a teenager in appearance was
fastened to a metal frame, on her knees with her head severely forced
back. In her mouth was a funnel gag and a line up of people waited to
urinate into the funnel, both men and women. As if this wasn't enough
her nose was clamped shut so that the only way she could breath was by
first swallowing any liquid in the funnel. Her belly was distended by
the amount of piss she had swallowed but there appeared to be no end
to the line of people waiting their turn.  Urine leaked out of her
nose, coughed up by lungs that where constantly inhaling drops and
squirts of it. In between swallowing streams of piss the girl coughed
and gasped incessantly. When Pooch returned latter the same girl was
being forced to vomit and then repositioned back in the frame, in
front of a new line, to start all over again.

 Pooch remembered the film she had been forced to watch during her
trial and the assurance she could avoid the same fate if she showed
genuine attempts and enthusiasm.  Now Pooch was terrified she knew she
would soon be the girl on the screen, it was her new role.


When Pooch stumbled in, still unsteady in the awkward boots, to check
on Marla and Shandra at around two thirty, Marla decided that Pooch
had worn the spreader bra for long enough. The slaves udders had grown
quite numb by this point and causing nerve damage to these magnificent
structures would be quite counter productive to Marla's future plans.
Enhanced sensitivity is what she was looking for and according to Dr.
Steve one way to achieve this was through repeated treatment similar
to what she had just undergone where nerves are stressed and suffer
slight damage but not to the point of killing them. When they recover
often times they will grow additional branches which are more
sensitive than the ones they replace. Besides Marla wanted her slave
looking as good as possible for her debut performance and some time
would be needed for the mammaries to return to their normal shape and
not the sausage shape created by the straps.

Though not thrilled by the return of feeling after removing the
brassier  Pooch was grateful for the small favors. She had actually
been quite concerned that the lack of circulation would kill the
tissue  and leave her either dead or at least breast less. Now hanging
as they did, however, the twin boulders did get in the way of work
making things at low levels difficult to see or knocking over object
placed near the front of a table or bureau while Pooch reached for
something near the back.

By three Pooch had the single greatest mess cleaned up, that being the
disaster once referred to as the kitchen. Hallways and other common
rooms like the family room and living room were straightened out much
more quickly.

While working in the living room Pooch watched a particularly
beautiful Oriental girl undergoing a torture that made the toilet
slave shudder. She had been suspended, up side down, by wires wrapped
around her toes, although her big toes were left free. The wires had
cut through most of the skin and were now impinging on the small
bones. Her hands were also bound with wire behind her back. A foot
below her head was a bed of hot coals radiating heat upwards from a
reflective metal bowl. What had previously been long black hair had
flared up in flames as soon as the girl had been lowered leaving some
first and second degree burns on her scalp. She had instinctively
protected her pretty face by looking upwards as her sumptuous locks
were destroyed. She had been given a true dilemma. She could just hang
there as her head slowly roasted or she could escape by ripping off
her toes and falling head first into the glowing embers. 

A small additional inconvenience was the swinging of the wires
activated a bellows blowing air through the coals increasing their
temperature.  

It appeared that the only way she could survive was to jerk her body
violently, repeatedly and quickly while trying to put as much of her
weight onto the toes of one foot. If she wasn't quick she would
succumb to the blistering heat of the bellows stoked fire. Pooch's
heart went out to the unfortunate victim as the wires cut through one
toe and then another. Her head and face began to blister from the
intense heat. Her lungs must have been cooking as well.

Shandra rubbed herself, her hand underneath her dress.

The Chinese princess didn't make it. She succeeded in having the wires
tear through the toes of one foot but when it came to the other she
just ran out of strength and passed away,  her free leg falling limp
exposing her genitalia as one final indignity.

Watching Shandra diddle herself, Pooch found herself wondering  what
atrocities this woman was capable of. She was responsible for much of
the pain she was experiencing right now both above and below the
waist. Curiously Pooch didn't find herself repulsed by the woman but
aroused instead, by the knowledge that she had to submit to this
dominatrix who had such purity of purpose. She admired the fact that
this woman would do whatever needed to be done to extract the last
ounce of effort from each of er charges and never accept anything
less.

Pooch noticed that if anything Marla didn't look pleased with her
guests crude behavior. She hoped that it meant that her Mistress did
not approve of such extreme tortures and not just that her mistress
was displeased with Shandra's actions.

By a quarter to four most of the obvious dishevelment within the house
had been cleaned up and Pooch busied herself with vacuuming carpets
while taking along a pail with a brush and some upholstery cleaner to
attack the patches of mud that the vacuum just couldn't get. By this
time she had also developed an urgent need to pee and thought about
how it would feel to remove the rubber encased Qtip when she was
instructed by her Mistress. Because of the damage done to her pee
canal that morning, the building pressure hurt more than what would be
normally expected. Still it paled in comparison to the anguish that
was her feet and her womb. Her udders, which had last been injected
almost two days ago where feeling a fair bit better. Some of the
swelling was actually receding  making them a bit softer and more
natural to the touch.

At  four thirty  Marla decided it was about time to brief her chattel
on what was going to happen that evening.

"At attention  CUNT. Tonight is a very important night for you and I.
For me it is the culmination of a great deal of work and planning and
for you it will be a time of discovering the cost of less than perfect
performance as my slave. Soon the technical crews will begin to
arrive. You will be taken to the guest bedroom and prepared for
punishment. After your  preparation you will greet my guests upon
their arrival. At seven o'clock you will be taken downstairs where I
will introduce you to my guests and the television audience and read
off the list of your infractions.  The penalty phase will then begin.
I expect you to be fully, completely cooperative throughout the
evening.  You are not to forget at any time what you are and accept
the consequences of your shortcomings. As a slave you have been less
than stellar, with tonight that will begin to change. I need not
remind you that no matter how bad things get for you, no matter how
painful, it can always be much worse, and let me assure you that I
will make it so if you give me even the slightest reason, the slighest
imperfection in your performance, the slightest lack of enthusiasm on
your part.  I expect, no demand you behave with the nobility of manner
of being MY slave.  You will not dishonor me.  There is a purpose to
this evening for you and secondarily for me.  What is most important
is the benefit for you.  It will finally, indelibly, etch in you
miserable slave mind whose property you are and it will make you a
better slave as you revel in this knowledge.  You will now have clear
goals; you sole purpose in life to please your mistress.  For me it
will provide the means to keep you as you WILL become accustomed.  Now
do you understand?  Answer in words, CUNT.”

"Yes Mistress, Pooch understands."

“Very good, Now that I know you understand I will tell you what I
expect from you tonight. First I expect you to keep your mouth shut. I
don’t mean that you can’t scream and weep. Everyone you will ever
meet from now on will enjoy listening to the screams of a woman. You
may even prey out loud. What you can’t do is actually talk to anyone
but yourself. Just to make sure I didn’t make a mistake in this
regard, if I were you I would try to keep as quiet as possible.  I
expect that you will do everything you are told to do and you will do
it according to the guidance offered you in the commandments. You will
particularly pay attention to commandment number four. You are a
toilet slave and toilet slaves are not revolted by anything. And
don’t forget that anybody at all can use you, any time, any way, any
where, although I can’t understand why anybody would want to use
those filthy holes of yours. They must just be full of disease by
know, and if they  really don’t have any venereal diseases yet, they
sure will soon.” “Now when you answer the door I want it done in a
very particular fashion. You will only be opening the door for guests
that I have invited, so you have no security functions. After you open
the door you will move back up to the wall and stand at strict
attention, your eyes cast on the ground. My gusts may want to examine
you. If they do you will offer no resistance. When every one has
cleared the door you will close it and escort the guests to the living
room.  unless another room is ordered. While you’re waiting for
instructions or between assignments you will take up the ‘worship
position’ with your head in the nearest unoccupied corner. In the
worship position either your head is in a corner or  your ass is
directed towards the greatest concentration of viewers in the room.
You will maintain this position until given instructions otherwise.”.
Almost as soon as Marla had finished her instructions to her slave the
door bell rang. Pooch went to answer it..  “That should be the makeup
team. You will escort them to the guest bedroom and from there you
will follow their instructions.” The slave girls heart began to race.
It was starting.  Pooch opened the door only to witness quite the
bizarre sight. Standing there were three people. At the front was a
matching pair of the most beautiful women Pooch could remember ever
laying her eyes  on, One raven haired the other golden blonde. Both
were gagged with red ball gages that had been inserted well back in
their mouths. Below the waist both women were encased in black latex,
so tight that Pooch believed the outfits must have been painted on.
Even their hands were covered except for the finger tips, which
revealed perfect, red, long nails.  Their shoes were red patent pumps
with heels that looked impossibly high.  Matching red collars and a
pair of black satchels completed their outfits. A chain ran from each
collar into the hand of their burly African American handler. He had
to be at least six and a half feet tall and at least three hundred
pounds. Three hundred pounds of muscle.  “Right on time.” Marla had
followed Pooch to the door.   The threesome stepped inside the house.
Bubba disconnected the chains from the pairs collars.   Take these
ladies upstairs and remember to do anything that they instruct you
two. You are in their hands now.” Pooch led the way, while the two
cosmeticians followed, in lock step, right behind.  “So well trained,
“ Marla sighed.  Their sculptured bodies made Pooch look dowdy.
Inside the bedroom the beauty queens quickly went about their work. A
hot bath was drawn in the adjoining bathroom, filled with herbs and
lotions. They had keys to the boots, probably a universal set, and
after sitting Pooch down on a towel placed on the bed, a necessary
safety measure, the torture boots were pulled of her feet along with
everything else, the vaginal spreader the stockings and her garter
belt. One girl cleaned and the other massaged Pooch as she lay in the
divine tub. Her hair was washed, and she was cleansed with soothing
creams. Her hair was washed cut and styled in a short but smart style.
Her hands and feet moisturized, nails clipped and lacquered in white
translucent pearl polish. Every inch of her body was examined and if
necessary covered over with theatrical makeup. Her face was changed
from that of a cheap whore to the face of an angel  using light clean
tones. Unless you were very close the toilet slave looked like she had
never undergone the beatings of the past week.  Finally Pooch was
dressed  in a simple satin dress, made from white satin , flowing down
to end just above her ankles. It was sleeveless held up by a pair of
spagetti straps on her shoulders.  Pooch’s legs were clad in a pair
of white nylons held up by a lacy white garter belt. High heeled
strapy sandles adorned her feet. She did not receive a bra but to her
surprise a pair of  high cut white panties was a part of her outfit.
Too soon the dream was over and Pooch’s wrists were tied tightly
behind her back, the narrow wrists crossing each other, and she was
lead out of the room and dwnstaires to great the guests.  





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