Torture Toy Daughter

Authors Note.

When I wrote part 1 of this I had no intention of adding more. I just wanted to take a powerful opening image, that of a girl in a cage with a dominatrix and a small audience, and see where I could go with it. But I had so much positive feedback, both via email and reviews, I decided to extend the storyline.  Unfortunately in the recent server crash it looks like all the reviews have gone. So if you like this story, or even if you don’t, then please write a review or send me feedback. It does make a difference!

paltego

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Chapter 2

The lady turned off the road and onto the long driveway that led to Mr. and Mrs. Smith’s house. It was beginning to get dark and, as she made the turn, her headlights automatically flickered on, illuminating the gravel road snaking between the trees. She was driving a black SUV, and its plain exterior paired with lightly tinted windows gave it a discrete but slightly threating air. This impression of understated menace was emphasized  by the occasional growl and low throaty bark that could be heard coming from the rear compartment every time the car thumped across a pothole.

This was the second time in recent weeks that she’d driven to the Smith’s with a passenger locked in the trunk. On the last occasion her companion had been the Smith’s daughter, returning to her parents after her first foray into the world of professional sex work. Although describing the time she’d spent in the local brothel as ‘professional sex work’ was a little like describing a crack whore as a ‘highly motivated sensual touch specialist.’ She’d been held for 3 days in darkness, bound and restrained, a faceless pair of holes fucked by countless men for $20 a time. Her opinions and thoughts hadn’t counted for anything. She’d just been a convenient place to deposit semen.

When the lady had arrived to collect her from the whorehouse, the girl had been in a bad way. Stinking of sweat and coated in dried lube and come, when she was finally unbuckled and released she’d simply collapsed on the floor at the lady’s feet. For a few minutes the lady had done nothing but stare down at the disheveled girl, a faint smile playing around her lips. They were a striking contrast. The girl was naked, her hair matted, her eyes red, and her skinny body ridged with deep marks from the restraining straps and buckles. In contrast the lady was immaculately attired and made-up, wearing tight designer jeans and sporting a chic little leather jacket. She’d have looked more at home on Rodeo Drive than standing over the abused body of a naked girl in the dirty backroom of a brothel.

Finally, after several minutes where the girl seemed disinclined to move or even look up, the lady had bent down and began to gently stroke her hair.

“You did very well”, she’d murmured. “Your parents are ever so proud of you.”

The girl had glanced up at the mention of her parents, a spark of hope in her eyes that she might finally be returning home.

“Please”, she whispered. “Please, I want to go back.”

The lady had gently caressed the side of the girl’s head, and then tilted her chin up, forcing her gaze upwards to the meet the lady’s stare.

“We sent them several photographs of you in action. Along with a report from the manager. He told them you were the best fucktoy he’s ever installed. That almost every customer who used it said it was well worth the $20.”

Incredibly at this the girl had almost smiled. “I did OK?” she’d tentatively enquired.

At the sight of her upturned questioning  expression the lady had felt a slow twist of excitement in the pit of her stomach. Anyone could dominate and abuse a young girl. That took no great skill. But to break her down, change her perspective on reality, make her a twisted participant in the process, that was the real challenge. That fleeting glimpse of a smile when she was told what a fine $20 fucktoy she’d been, that was worth any number of screams.

“Did you orgasm while you were in the box?” she’d asked the girl.

The girl had closed her eyes, unable to face the lady’s stare, and then silently nodded.

“More than once?”

Again there had been no verbal response, just a slight nod of the head. A silent acknowledgement that some part of her had enjoyed the suffering and abuse.

“That’s a good girl” the lady had assured her. “You need to accept who you are. What you are. A normal person would never have been excited when treated like that. But you’re not a normal person. You’re just a thing. A fucktoy. A painslut. Our little bondage baby. You’re whatever we want you to be. And part of you really wants that. Craves that. And when I’m finally finished with you, that is going to be the only part of you left.”

Standing up the lady had gestured to two men standing at the entrance to the room, and between them they’d carried in a large wire dog cage. The girl wasn’t even given chance to cleanup or wash.  Instead, still stinking of sex and sweat,  she’d been forced into the cage and loaded into the back of the lady’s car for delivery back to her parents.

That had been a little over two weeks ago. On this latest journey the cage was once again occupied, but this time by a new friend for the Smith’s daughter. This particular friend had been a special request from Mrs. Smith, and it had taken the lady almost a week to locate and purchase him. But the time spent had been worth it, and she had every reason to believe that the new arrival would please the parents as much as it would dismay their daughter.

It was completely dark by the time she arrived outside the Smith’s house, and the floodlights had been turned on to illuminate its low sweeping frontage. It was a vast sprawling home, an old mansion that had been extensively enlarged and modernized. Mr. Smith was a wealthy man and he spared no expense to indulge all of his passions to the full. The art on display throughout the house was worth millions. The furniture had been custom designed to his exact requirements. And as the lady knew, when it came to his daughter, he was happy to pay for any device or service that could be used to torture her in new and exciting ways.

Jim, Mr. Smith’s bodyguard and butler, was waiting for her by the main entrance. As she killed the engine, he stepped forward to open her door.

“Any problems?”

“No,” she replied, tossing him the car keys. “He’s in the back. Take care of him and give him some food.”

“Anything I need to watch out for?”

“No. He’s a real sweetheart. More of a lover than a fighter”, she said with a grin on her face. “Now, where is everyone?”

“Mr. Smith is working on a business deal in his study. He’ll join you later. Mrs. Smith is giving a riding lesson in the girl’s bedroom. She said to go on and meet her there.”

The lady stifled a question about how exactly one gave a riding lesson indoors. No doubt all would be clear soon. Leaving the car and its passenger for Jim to deal with, she headed into the house in the direction of the girl’s bedroom. She’d visited it just once before, when she’d first interviewed the girl about her desire to experience real slavery and submission. Back then it had been a typical seventeen year olds bedroom. Posters of the pop bands on the wall, photographs of her friends on the desk and school books scattered everywhere. But as she pushed the door open, she realized that since then her parents had insisted on a few changes.

She’d have predicted that they would have gone for a stark, minimal prison look: Plain walls, no comfort, just a bare mattress to sleep on. Something to emphasize the new low status of their daughter. Instead they’d gone in very much the other direction. Pink was the dominant color. The walls were pale pink, the bedspread a bright pink ‘Hello Kitty’ design, and all the furniture was upholstered in a deep pink. What wasn’t pink was white, with lacey white frills cascading around the bed and dresser, and a large white toy chest in the corner, decorated with pictures of cute animals. The overall impression was of a bedroom for a girl much younger than 17. It was a clever move thought the lady. It would increase the girl’s helplessness and dependency, taking her back to a time when her entire world had been this house and her parents.

As she studied the room more closely, some subtle incongruities in its contents began to stand out. The toy chest lid was propped open and she could see that the toys inside were definitely not of the kid variety. A couple of black leather whips were coiled in the bottom, lying next to a box of surgical needles and a bottle of lube. The photographs of the girl and her school friends that used to adorn the dresser had been replaced with dozens of snapshots taken from the whorehouse. Each one showed a different guy fucking her. And at the four corners of the bed lay thick white ropes, each ending in a slip knot noose. The lady stared at them, picturing the girl staked out on the pink bedspread, wearing nothing but a wispy lace nighty, her thin body twisting hopelessly against the taut ropes as her father repeatedly penetrated her, fucking for hours until he was satisfied.

A gentle laugh startled her out of revere, and she turned in the doorway to see Mrs. Smith standing behind her.

“Sorry I wasn’t here to greet you,” she said. “I was just preparing our toy for her riding lesson and didn’t hear you come in. I see you were admiring our new décor.”

“Yes. It’s very striking. A nice mixture of innocence and corruption. I can imagine the two of you having hours of fun in here. But what’s the riding lesson? And where is she?”

“Oh, she’s just in the bathroom, getting her face on,” replied Mrs. Smith cryptically. But before the lady could question it, the bathroom door opened and the answer became obvious.

The girl was naked. Her slender body taut and unmarked, obviously fully recovered from her time in the whorehouse box. Her hair was done into two long braided pigtails, each sporting a bright yellow bow at the end. But the most striking thing about her was the face. Or rather the lack of it. For where it should have been was the frozen white face of a porcelain doll. The mouth was red and full, molded into a happy smile. The cheeks were lightly painted rouge, the eyebrows a dark penciled line and the eyelashes a frozen sequence of tiny black curls. It was beautiful, elegant and yet completely lifeless.

“How extraordinary,” exclaimed the lady, moving in for a closer look.

“We had it custom made for her. It fits like a second skin. There’s an expanding gag behind the mouth with some custom dental fittings. That keeps her quiet and holds the entire thing tightly into place. No need for any straps.”

Once she was close enough the lady could see the eyes of the mask were cutouts, and the girls own eyes were visible through the oval holes. They had the glassy staring look of a girl firmly gagged, and the shiny wetness of tears glistened at their edges. She put her hand to the cheek and felt the hard cold ceramic surface slide beneath her fingers.

“Beautiful”, said the lady. “A beautiful little doll that we can play with. And no matter what we do to our little doll, whatever games we girls play with it, it’ll always keep smiling.”

“Talking of playing games, why don’t I show you the special new toy we had made for her?” Suggested Mrs. Smith. “It was a gift from her father and she hasn’t had chance to try it yet.”

The new toy was sitting in the corner of the girl’s bedroom in the shape of an old fashioned rocking horse. It was an expert piece of craftsmanship, a gleaming white horse with a thick golden mane hanging within a dark varnished wooden frame. Rather than the usual curved rockers, the base was flat heavy wood, and the horse instead hung on U-shaped metal pivots off a pair of wooden uprights. The other slightly unusual part of the design was the saddle, or rather the lack of it. Instead there was a long flanged groove down the back of the horse, waiting for something to be slid into it.

While the lady was inspecting the horse, Mrs. Smith was rummaging around in the wardrobe, eventually emerging with what looked like black leather riding boots. She fastened these directly to the horse, clipping them to the flanks. Their dimensions seemed a little off to the lady. The feet were tiny and child-like, but the upper leather boot looked far deeper than seemed necessary. However, the next few words quickly made everything clear.

“I’ll need your help getting her into these,” Mrs. Smith explained. “She has to go in knee first, so her foot is folded back and onto her thigh. If you lift her on one side I can lift her on the other.”

The lady quickly grasped the idea, and working together the two women soon had the girl  astride the horse and dropped knee first into the boots. When they were done she was firmly mounted on the horse, her cunt hovering a fraction above its back, and her legs folded up and firmly attached to the sides.

The next item retrieved from the wardrobe was a small white frilly dress with a short flared skirt. But once again it was immediately apparent to the lady that something was a little different about it. The long ruffled arms were stiff and stuck out in front of the dress, and from each sleeve a small doll-like hand peeked out. Mrs. Smith explained the devious design.

“The dress is actually designed like a strait-jacket. Her arms go into horizontal internal sleeves that are stitched inside it. And then we’ll zip it up along the back. The artificial hands are clipped onto the handles either side of the horse’s head. So she’ll be held firmly in place, while it’ll still look like she’s voluntarily holding on and enjoying a nice ride!”

Once the dress had been zipped up the lady couldn’t help slipping  a hand under the flared skirt to gently finger the girl’s cunt. She wasn’t surprised to find the bondage and restraints had excited their little doll and she was already wet. The horse began to gently rock back and forth as the girl tried to thrust her hips back and force to achieve a climax against the ladies fingers. But wise to this the lady allowed her hand to move with the horse, teasingly sliding her hand and denying the girl the friction she really needed. She was left frustrated and harmlessly swinging in space as the lady pulled away and her mother emerged from the wardrobe with the final piece of the puzzle.

It was a triangular block of wood, about a foot long and a couple of inches high. A sharpened edge was uppermost, while the flat base was shaped to mate with the slot on the horse’s back. Moving behind the girl, her mother wrapped one hand around the girls waist and used the other to position the wooden block so it could be slid home.

“Now sweetheart,” she told the girl. “Mommy needs you to try and lift up. Can you do that for me?”

The girl tried her best, squeezing her calf muscles against the horses flanks, lifting herself an inch or so higher. With a hand around her narrow waist her mother lifted and steadied her, and then carefully slid the block into place.

“Good girl. I’m very proud of you,” she told her.

The girl started to relax and then jolted up as her cunt painfully split itself on the sharp edge of the block. Her mother smiled as the process repeated, the girl straining and squirming as she tried to lower herself onto the block without painfully crushing herself against it. The lady watched, entranced at the scene. With the smiling doll face framed by long braided pigtails, the white dress with tiny black boots sticking out beneath it, and the artificial hands holding onto the horse’s head, it looked exactly like a beautiful toy doll riding an antique rocking horse. Nobody would have guessed that a real live girl was trapped within it, held immobile and silent, her cunt tortured by her own weight pressing it against a sharp wooden edge. Only the occasional slight rocking of the horse, as she twisted and stretched to try and relieve the pain, would have given the secret away.

“It’s very hard to get any leverage against the horse with her legs like that,” explained the mother. “She has to tightly squeeze her legs together to try and push herself clear. I don’t think it’ll take more than a few minutes before she’ll tire. Why don’t we go and get a glass of wine and come back in half an hour to see how she’s doing?”

“An excellent suggestion!” replied the lady. “Let me tell you about the present I managed to find….”

It was almost forty-five minutes before they returned. By that time it looked like all the stuffing had been knocked out of the doll. She had slumped forward as much as the artificial arms would allow her to and her head drooped down. She had completely given up trying to stay off the sharp edge of the saddle. Now she was simply trying not to move more than was absolutely necessary.

Her mother sat down on the edge of the bed and, using her foot, began to gently rock the horse back and forth. This caused the girl to raise her smiling painted face up again, staring at her mother, her body squirming slightly as the moving horse shifted her weight distribution. Then with no warning at all, as the horse rocked forward her mother smacked the flat of her foot against it, stopping the horse dead in its tracks. The sudden deceleration jammed the girl down hard and forward against her tortuous saddle, crushing her clit against the wood.  Even through the gag and mask, the two women heard her scream. 

Her mother let out a gentle peal of laughter, and then began to rock the horse again. She repeated this trick several times, smiling with each scream she drew from the girl. Meanwhile the lady had taken up station directly behind the girl and, as the mother once again brought the horse to a sudden halt, she followed up with a sudden kick with to the rear of the horse. This caught the girl by surprise, pushing her onto the saddle from an entirely new angle and causing fresh waves of pain to lace through her cunt.

The two women spent an enjoyable fifteen minutes chatting over the girl’s head and pushing the horse back and forth between them. The girl spent most of that period screaming and desperately trying to grip the sides of the horse with her thighs in order to pull herself clear of the sharp saddle. Eventually it was tiring legs for the women rather than any sense of compassion that brought a halt to their fun. The mother retrieved one final item from the wardrobe and then bent close to her daughters frozen face.

“Now sweetheart, I think your father is due to finish work any minute. So I’m going to leave you here for him. I’m sure you’d like to spend some quality daddy daughter time. But before we go I think we should do something about that uncomfortable saddle, don’t you?”

At this the girl violently nodded her head and moaned something behind her gag. The lady couldn’t help smiling at this eager reaction. She could see the alternative that Mrs. Smith was holding behind her back. It was the same size as the simple triangular saddle already in place, but the upper edge was carved into a series of curved waves with scalloped edges. Whatever pain the girl was in now, it was only going to get a lot worse.

Her mother planted a delicate kiss on the cold lips of the porcelain doll face,  and then moved back behind the girl. With a hand around the girl’s waist she murmured instructions into her ear.

“Lift up again now honey. Mommy needs to change your saddle……”

It was three hours later and the adults had gathered for a glass of wine before beginning the evening’s entertainment. Mr. Smith was entertaining Jim and the two women by telling them exactly how he’d dealt with the girl after freeing her from the horse. Apparently she’d be very grateful to see him initially, but less keen when he insisted on fucking her bruised and swollen cunt.

“There’s just something about that mask,” he was telling them. “It makes me want to terrible things to her. There’s that gorgeous tight body and then this happy smiling face. And no matter what you do, however you mistreat her, it just keeps smiling back up at you. This time I had her tied on the bed….”

However, before he could go on to describe exactly what he’d done to his daughter, the girl herself made her way carefully into the room. The mask had been removed and she was wearing a simple white nightdress. The scene that greeted her was incongruous in its normality. Her parents were sitting on a long black leather couch, relaxing with a wine glass in their hands. Both were immaculately dressed, her father in a dark suit and her mother in a long pale blue evening dress. The lady sat relaxing in a low armchair, wearing the classic ‘little black dress’, while Jim, in his usual grey suit stood behind her. A large log fire burned in the fireplace, casting a flickering light across the room. It reminded the girl of the dinner parties her parents had used to host for friends when she was growing up. Of course in those days the topics of conversation had been her school grades and college prospects. Not the best position to tie her down so she could be fucked.

The lady got to her feet and took charge of the situation. While Jim slipped out of the room, she crossed to the girl and rested a hand on her shoulder.

“You’re very lucky,” she told the nervous looking girl. “Your parents have purchased some very expensive presents. Not many children are blessed with such a generous family.”

As she spoke there was a bark from outside the room. Seconds later Jim entered leading a large black Doberman by a heavy leather leash. The girl had always loved dogs, and instinctively broke out into a large smile, dropping to one knee to stroke him. The dog seemed very friendly, licking her face and jumping up, clearly enjoying all the attention. She was puzzled by the gift however. It was unlike her parents to give her anything nice these days. And why did the dog have little leather booties on its feet?

“His name is Holmes. After a famous movie star,” explained the lady, shooting a knowing smile to the parents. “He’s a special gift from your mother. And he was very expensive because he’s been specially trained.”

“Really?” said the girl, looking up from the floor, her arms clasped around the dogs neck. “What does he do? Tricks?”

“Kind of. You see he’s been trained to prefer a special kind of bitch to mate with. Specifically, the kind of bitch you are.”

“NO!” exclaimed the girl, with a horrified look on her face. She dropped her arms from the dog and scooted backwards away from him on the floor. The dog followed, puzzled but still wagging its tail. “I can’t. No! Please!” she pleaded.

“Ssshhh,” said the lady. She strode forward and knelt by the girl, pulling the dog back from her. “If you don’t want to play with mommy’s present just yet, that’s OK. You have an alternative”

“Oh, please” said the girl with a desperate look. “Anything. Just don’t make me…. not with a dog…”

“OK. Instead, would you like to try out daddy’s present first?”

The girl paused, her expression both wary and nervous. She knew that she was trapped. Any present from her father in this situation wasn’t likely to be an enjoyable one. But how could it be worse? Anything had to be better than being forced to mate with a dog.

“Yes,” she said in a quiet little voice. “I’ll try what daddy got me.”

The lady stood and helped the girl back to her feet. She made her way over to the couch, skirting carefully around the dog, and took the large box her father was now proffering. It looked like a gift box from a high end fashion or jewelry store. It was wrapped in thick white paper and decorated with pink ribbons tied into a large bow.

“Thank you daddy,” she said, gingerly taking it from him. With one eye still cast nervously towards the dog, she slowly unwound the ribbons and pulled the top back. Her eyes widened when she saw the contents. Expecting the worst, she was amazed to see a beautiful and elegant lingerie set. Rather than the fetish or bondage wear she’d become used to, this was all in white silk and lace, the kind of lingerie her mother purchased from expensive French boutiques.

“Well don’t just stare at it!” exclaimed her father. “Try it on. I had it custom made, so it should fit you perfectly”

The girl didn’t need to be told twice and quickly wriggled out of her nightdress, excited at what appeared to be such a beautiful gift. The first item out of the box was a pair of white stocking, each a thin wisp of finest quality silk. As she pulled them on she noticed they had a filigree of fine silver strands, an apparently random mosaic of thin silver that glittered as she admired her stocking clad legs in the light. Next came a basque, complete with a series of lacy ties that could be tightened to make it hug her slim form. Like the stockings it had a silver strands woven into it, running from the stocking suspenders up the body and finishing entwined around her breasts. The associated panties were a simple triangle of silk that narrowed to a thong like rope of glittering silver and lace strands. Pulled tightly into place between her legs, her slit was clearly outlined through the almost transparent white and silver triangle. A choker followed, a plain white band with a series of small diamonds set around its middle. The stones sparkled in the light as she carefully fixed it around her neck. The final item from the box was a pair of high heeled white leather shoes, each sporting a glittering silver and diamond decorative motif.

The end result was spectacular. Even her parents, who had grown used to seeing her in sexually provocative clothing, were impressed. Her beautiful body was wreathed in tight white silk, and she glittered and sparkled as she turned in the evening lights.

“You look wonderful,” said her father. “Like an angel. Why don’t you go and sit up on the couch with your mother so she can take a closer look?”

Standing up he moved away from the couch and allowed his wife to sit sideways, stretching out fully down its length. The girl was initially hesitant, perching carefully just on the seat edge, but was quickly encouraged by her mother’s embrace to recline backwards and adopt a similar posture. They lay for a moment in each other’s arms, a demure young girl in white lingerie held close by a beautiful blond in an elegant blue evening dress. The woman began to kiss her, her hands gently sliding across the girl’s body, enjoying the feel of her skin through the taut silk.

Meanwhile the lady had retrieved the pink ribbons from the gift box and, crossing to the entwined couple, used them to tie the girl’s hands and feet. The girl hardly noticed as her ankles were wrapped in a series of pink loops and then her hands pulled behind her back to be similarly ensnared. She was far too distracted by the hand her mother had slipped between her legs and was using to slowly masturbate her, carefully running two fingers up and down the lacy triangle between her legs. She moaned and breathed in her mother’s delicate perfume, lost in a rare moment of pleasure.

Having finished tying the girl, the lady retreated from the couch and handed Mr. Smith what looked like a remote control device. With a nod he thanked her, and thumbed its large red ‘on’ button. Over on the couch the girl let out a startled moan as a tingling sensation ran up her body. Mrs. Smith smiled and sat up and away from the girl, staring down at her as she lay tied on the couch.

“Now my beautiful little angel,” she said. “As you’ve just discovered, there’s something very special about this lingerie. You see the silver strands are not just decorative. They’re also electrical conductors. So you’re now very tightly wrapped in a web of hundreds of electrical contacts.”

The girl moaned and gasped as another wave of delicious sensation ran up her legs and around body.

“There are two powerful battery packs contained within your shoes,” continued Mrs. Smith. “And from there they can direct current to almost any part of your body. Either a gentle tingle or…”

Mr. Smith, recognized his cue, came a sharp twist to a control knob, and the girl suddenly screamed and writhed on the couch. A burst of intense pain shot through the soles of her feet and along her lower legs. It came in a series of waves, each one causing her muscles to clench and her nerve endings to flare white hot. Another touch to the control box and the pain moved to her pussy, a series of vicious shocks rippling across the damp surface of her panties. She screamed again and again as each shock hit her.

“As you can feel,” Mrs. Smith told the panting girl. “We can inflict awful pain to almost any part of your body. The control box over there in your father’s hand has a series of set programs he’s going to run. Each about 5 minutes long. Once we start the program it doesn’t stop. However, between programs if you want to stop this and play with the nice doggie that I brought you instead, well you only have to ask.”

Mr. Smith hit the button for program one, and was instantly rewarded with more high pitched screams from his daughter. Her fastened legs attempt to kick as wave after wave of pain raced through her feet and along her legs.

“No, please, no,” she begged her mother as the first wave of shocks died away. “It hurts too much.”

Her mother simply smiled down at her and brushed a tear from the girl’s face as the next wave of shocks began to hit. Her breasts felt like they were on fire and she twisted her body back and forth as the pain intensified. The agonizing process continued for what seemed like an eternity, and she could do nothing but suffer and stare helplessly up into her mother’s eyes. Eventually however it ceased and she was left panting and exhausted, every part of her body aching.

“Do you want to stop this and play with the doggie?” asked her mother.

The girl paused, trying to evaluate the sensations in her body. She’d survived it so far. How much worse could it get? Maybe she could handle this.

“No. I can’t. Not the dog.”

“OK then. We’ll move on. But I should tell you that the remaining programs have a little twist. You see the choker you’re wearing also has a bit of modern technology built into it. In its case a tiny wireless microphone is embedded in the front. From here on if it picks up any noise above a whisper, it’ll temporarily increase the level of the shocks based on the volume of the noise. So one loud scream from you and you’ll be looking at twice as much pain.”

Mr. Smith hit the button for program two and the waves of agony returned for the girl. This time however the room was eerily quiet. The only sound was the faint crackle of logs in the fireplace. The four adults sat quietly sipping their drinks and watching the girl as she shook and squirmed. Her beautiful body and the elegant but devilish white lingerie made a striking contrast to the black leather of the couch. She was breathing heavily though her nose and had her teeth clenched tightly together in a desperate attempt to avoid making any sound.

For the first two or three minutes it looked like she would make it through the 5 minute program without a murmur. But then her mother, whilst still smiling and holding eye contact, leaned forward and blew across the microphone. The sequence of shocks that were currently focused around her asshole and pussy suddenly leapt in intensity and she couldn’t prevent a scream forcing its way out. That of course triggered further intense shocks and for the remainder of the sequence she was caught in a vicious circle of increased shocks and strangled screams that she couldn’t hold back.

“Would like you like to move onto program three?” enquired her mother when the final shock had eventually died away.

The girl lay quietly, her jaw muscles still tightly clenched. It was bad but she could handle it. She just needed to ride it out. Accept the pain. Don’t fight it. Detach.

Her mother, taking her silence to imply consent, began to prepare for the next sequence by pulling on a pair of long gloves. They were ladies opera gloves, made of light blue leather to match her evening dress, and they stretched from her fingertips to past her elbows. Most importantly they’d insulate her from any shocks. Sliding down the couch, she lay with the girl, embracing her and gently kissing away her tears.

As Mr. Smith initiated the next sequence, Mrs. Smith held the girl close, feeling her warm body begin to clench and spasm in her arms as the rippling shocks began again. She closely stared into the girls pain filled eyes, their faces just inches apart, feeling her hot breath gasping from her as her nerve endings were shredded by the electricity. Across the room Mr. Smith was leaning forward, one hand slowly stroking himself, as he watched the perverse pairing embrace and twist on the couch.

For the girl this tight embrace made the pain so much worse. Where before the electrical contacts might have pressed lightly against her skin, perhaps briefly breaking away as she moved, now her mother was holding them tightly against her. The combination of her increasingly damp skin and the additional pressure increased the flow of electricity  tremendously. As her mother ran a hand over her breasts and rolled her nipples between silver wires it felt like a knife cutting into her soft tender flesh, and she tossed her head back and forth in silent agony.

The breaking point came about three minutes into the sequence. The woman slipped a hand between the girls legs and began to finger her through the conducting fabric. As she forced the contact wires into the girls pussy a cascading run of shocks, each more powerful that then last, blasted across her clitoris and labia. This forced a scream from her lips, which boosted the intensity of the shocks up to an unbearable level.

“No, No,” muttered the girl. “Dog, dog, please dog” she repeated as she thrashed back and forth, each word echoing in the intensity of the shocks being applied across her body.

Her mother smiled, but didn’t stop the electricity. Continuing to hold the girls writhing body against her, she began to whisper in her ear. “There, there. It’s alright. It’ll soon stop. Good girl.”

The girl was broken. Defeated. When the shocks finally stopped she didn’t beg or plead. She just lay there, her breath panting in and out, her eyes wet with tears. Her mother carefully brushed the hair back from her face, and then gently kissed her on the lips.

“I’m very happy you decided to play with my present for you,” she said. “He’s supposed to have the longest and thickest cock of any from his litter, so I had to pay quite a bit extra.”

The girl shuddered and closed her eyes.

“Now you could simply get on all fours and let him take you like that. But apparently that can be quite tricky for a first timer to get right. So we’ve purchased a piece of equipment called a ‘bitch stand’ that’ll really help him achieve maximum penetration whilst also preventing you struggling and confusing him. Would you like to try that? Would you like us to fasten you to the bitch stand sweetheart?”

The girl was silent but nodded softly. What did it matter now? She was going to be the dog’s bitch. Better to accept whatever happened than struggle further.

Jim left the room and returned a few minutes later with a very functional and utilitarian piece of equipment. It was made of tubular steel, wrapped in black foam padding. Viewed from above it closely resembled a letter ‘A’. The triangular base was about 5 feet in length and a little over 2 feet wide at the open end. The horizontal line in the ‘A’ was formed by a padded horizontal bar held about 18 inches from the floor by a pair of uprights. Various belts and buckles were attached at convenient anchor points and a pair of padded leather cuffs on a chain trailed from the pointed end of the base.

Mr. Smith moved across to rejoin his wife on the couch, and the two sat together cuddling like a pair of teenage lovers as Jim carefully positioned the frame on the floor in front of them. Meanwhile the lady had taken charge of the girl, ordering her to strip and then kneel in the frame. Awkwardly she got down on the floor in front of her parents, placing her hips against the padded bar and then leaning over it, resting on all fours. She didn’t look up or even glance towards the dog which was now sitting up eagerly wagging its tail just a few feet away.

The lady got to work with the belts and buckles on the girls legs. Each ankle and knee was pulled to the outside edge of the base and strapped firmly into place. The girl groaned as the lady tugged the last belt around her knees tight. Her legs were spread painfully apart, her thighs held in a taut V, and the lips of her cunt split open under the tension. The horizontal bar under her hips was angled slightly backwards, pushing her ass up and out, perfectly positioned for the dog to mount. The final touch was the leather cuffs for her hands. Once buckled around her wrists the lady pulled the girl firmly forward and down, the chain from the cuffs clipping into place on the very end of the frame.

The ‘bitch’ was now fastened in place. Leg’s apart, ass in the air, body pulled down. The taut chain holding her arms clinking slightly as she shifted, trying to get comfortable in her bindings.

The lady gave her a gently pat on the head and went to retrieve two small items from her purse.  Returning to the girl, she bent down and placed the first of them, a small metal bell, on the floor in front of her. At the sight of the bell the dog let out a low ‘woof’ and jumped up. He began circling the metal frame, pacing backwards and forwards excitedly. Her parents, still cuddling on the couch, could see a large purple and red penis jutting out prominently beneath his belly.

“The dog is trained to fuck once the bell is rung,” explained the lady in a conversational tone. “So naturally he gets pretty excited when he spots the bell coming out. Stretched out like this, she’ll be perfectly held in place, unable to stop him. And secretly, deep down inside, I think she knows that this is the proper place for her. Where she belongs. A bitch for anyone or anything to fuck”

The lady moved around to the back of the girl and carefully knelt down. A low buzzing noise filled the air as the lady activated the second item from her purse, a small bullet vibrator. The girl’s body twitched slightly in her bonds as she felt the vibrator briefly brush across her clitoris.

“Any normal girl in this situation would be terrified,” the lady told her. “Scared of being forcibly penetrated by a dog. Revolted at just the idea of it. A normal girl could never get sexually aroused in this situation. Shall we see what kind of girl you are?”

The ladies hand moved back and forth, circling the clitoris with the bullet, varying the pressure. As the vibrator was pressed more firmly against her the girl couldn’t help but respond. Her bodies reaction betrayed her as she began to moan, fruitlessly twisting her arms and trying to wiggle her hips. The lady smiled at this, and began to work her hand more vigorously, switching between the vibrator and her fingers. After a minute or two, as she sensed the girl approaching orgasm she suddenly pulled away, leaving the girl frustrated, her orgasm denied.

Getting to her feet, the lady moved around to the front of the frame and pulled the girl’s head up via a handful of hair. Her fingers were slick with clear thin pussy juice and she slowly wiped them across the girl’s face.

“It seems we have our answer,” said the lady. “She’s just a bitch. A fuck buddy for a dog.”

The girl watched helplessly as the lady picked the bell up. She could hear the dog breathing heavily somewhere behind her, and despite the situation she felt her stomach flip with a perverse thrill. Her cunt gaped wide, held spread between the leather straps, wet with excitement. There was nothing she could do to stop the animal forcing its way into it. Seated above her on the couch her parents leaned forward, their eyes wide, caught in the moment.

The bell rang.

The girl heard the skitter of the leather booties on the floor and then cried out in shock as she felt the dog’s front legs scrabbling along her back. A sudden weight landed on her back, and his warm furry body was pressing into her. She could feel his hot smelly breath on her neck and she tried to jerk free as he slid forward, his rear legs kicking to get leverage. He stabbed at her, once, twice, three times. On the fourth attempt he speared her, his thick pointed penis sliding deeply into her. She moaned at the sudden penetration and twisted her hands in their chains, fighting to escape.

Now he had his bitch where he wanted her the dog pushed in, penetrating her more deeply than she’d ever imagined. Her cunt lips were stretched tightly around his cock, painfully pulling and twisting  as he began to jack hammer into her. She’d never felt so degraded. So abused. And yet despite everything, she felt the sexual excitement begin to grow within her again. The delicious tingle of an impending orgasm washed through her body and she cried out as the dog fucked her into a screaming climax.

Her parents watched transfixed as the dog brought their daughter through a series of crashing orgasms. She was panting and moaning, shuddering in her bonds as the bucking Doberman slid his swelling dick in and out of her now soaking cunt. And just when they thought it was almost over, she let out a loud scream and climaxed again as the dog pumped jet after jet of hot doggy come into her.

When he was finally done the dog barked and yelped as he tried to back away, his front legs thrashing against her sides. The lady grabbed his collar to guide him away, and he whined as his swollen cock reluctantly popped out of her cunt with a wet squelch. Jim quickly had him leashed and led him out of the room in the direction of the kennels.

The lady picked up her wine glass and settled herself into an armchair by the fire. Over on the couch there was the sound of a zip as  Mr. Smith helping his wife slide out of her dress. She watched as the two of them embraced and kissed, their bodies intertwining on the couch. Highly aroused by the spectacle they’d just seen, they began to slowly make love. In contrast to the brutality inflicted on their daughter, they were gentle with each other, tenderly touching and caressing as they gradually built towards a mutual climax.

The girl remained fastened to the bitch frame. She could hear her parents making love, the couch springs squeaking above her, but she made no effort to move or ask to be released. She was slumped immobile, exhausted by the pounding she’d taken, mentally numb from the degradation of what she’d been forced to do. A thin sheen of sweat covered her body and dog come oozed slowly from her cunt. As the lady watched a long string of it slipped out of her and puddled on the floor.

It had been an enjoyable day decided the lady as she sipped her wine and studied the immobile body on the frame. The girl was becoming more and more sexually responsive to the pain and humiliation. The girl’s naturally submissive nature combined with the lady’s conditioning and training was going to result in a superb pain slave and fuck toy. The steady escalation of her suffering could continue. And perhaps a good next step would be licking that dog come up from the floor….