Pooch's Story
Part 13b Pooch's Punishment
Marla stood in front of her slave then bent down to pick her up by a fist
full of hair. “Now I’m going to punish you for trying to break your agreement
with Ed. I sure hope you didn’t think I would forget that. I’ve thought long
and hard about what I would do to you for that most despicable of crimes.
You’re about to find out.”
She continued to pull Pooch to her feet by her
hair and soon the spikes across the top of her nether hills pulled out from
her flesh sending tiny red rivers flowing down and into the crack of her bald
cunt. “Stand on your feet,”
the bitch queen barked. Marla thought that
Pooch’s attempt to get out from under her ownership after her agreement with
Ed was particularly insulting and to a large extent was what had brought out
her worst qualities. Maybe, Marla thought, if she did a particularly good job
in punishing this inexcusable action, she would find it easier to be
sympathetic to her slave’s plight. “Your back should stay inflamed for weeks
but still be perfectly able to work. Of course any strokes of the whip that
you earn will be particularly memorable after they plow across your back. Now
let me see what I can do for your front”
Marla picked up one of Pooch’s
swollen breasts feeling and weighing it in her hand as Pooch struggled to
keep her balance while standing at attention. Marla ran her black gloved hand
down Pooch’s belly and in between her legs. With her ankles still fastened
together Pooch did her best not to impede her Mistress’s access. Marla pushed
her thumb into the captive’s cunt as she reached for the ass hole with her
index finger. She squeezed them together trying to get a feel for the
condition of the underlying structure. Marla withdrew her fingers and wiped
them off in her slave’s hair. “Relax cunt, I’m not going to be punishing you
down here till a bit later tonight.”
Marla lit up a cigarette. Pooch saw that
there was no point in trying to stop her crying. “First there are those
beautifully developing hooters to attend to. The injections have made them
look so ripe that they seem about ready to just pop like a couple of
balloons. I wonder if this cigarette would make them blow up just like
balloons?”
Pooch watched in terror as Marla brought the cigarette straight up
to the bottom of her left tit then clamped her eyes shut just before the
glowing end charred her skin. Pooch jerked backward instinctively twisting
her body out of the way of the burning tip. There was no question that this
was the wrong thing to do but she couldn’t help herself, it had hurt so much.
Marla hadn’t hurried to pull cigarette away letting it sit there till it
extinguished itself in the flesh; she just let her hand follow the moving
breast around as Pooch tried to move away. The slave knew that moving away
would get her into even more fire but the burning cigarette had hurt so much
that she couldn’t keep her body from reacting. She managed to keep her hands
behind her neck from her fear of her new Mistress, knowing that to lower them
to try and protect herself would probably lead to retribution so terrible
that she would want to die. It was this fear that kept her going. Despite
everything that she had been through, Pooch knew that her body was still
essentially intact and given a chance it would recover. She still had hope
that she could find something in her life that would keep her going and make
all the pain worthwhile. Maybe she would learn to block out the pain. The
gurgling coming from deep in her throat made it seem that it wasn’t likely
that Pooch was making progress in terms of blocking out the pain. “When you
tried to beg Ed for your freedom only to get away from me, at any cost, you
sealed your doom. It showed us both that you loved yourself more than your
Master and what a worthless piece of trash you were. You tried to go back on
your bargain and now you are going to pay for it. And you know what the
ironic part is? I’m going to keep you the freest that you will be tonight...
I’m not even going to restrain you anywhere above the belt. Only your ankles
will stay chained to the floor. You could even use your hands to strike at me
or push me away as I torture your big, fat breasts. They must be quite sore
from all the swelling and the needles and each still feeling the burn from
the darning needles. Well soon you will forget all about those pains.”
Marla
smiled to herself. She knew what she was going to lay out for her slave and
she was just in the mood to even embellish what she was about to describe
just to see if she could coax a reaction. In some ways there was nothing
worse then knowing your future, or at least a part of it. Knowing what was
going to happen to her would increase Pooch’s anxiety level even higher.
Marla wouldn’t give her any knowledge that could comfort her such as when the
torture would stop. “You’ve just shown everyone that despite all of the
warnings I’ve given you about trying to escape from me, you were still trying
to evade that tiny little pain of the cigarette. Maybe through punishment you
will learn better control and gain the knowledge that trying to escape is
just too painful. You’ll learn that it isn’t good even to think about.”
“For
most of the time I will keep you well secured but now it’s time for you to
show me that you can learn self control. I’m not going to stop hurting your
tits until you show me that you will stand still and let me do whatever I
want without so much as squirming, or, until you try to push me or hit me
with your arms. Then I’ll tie you up and get really rough. You’ll have to
show me that you’re sincere about accepting whatever I decide to give you
before I’ll stop so don’t expect that as soon as you stay still things will
get better because they won’t.”
Marla then hauled of and delivered a loud
slap across Pooch’s face, sending another wave of humiliation coursing
through her shaking body. There was something about being slapped that was
intensely demeaning far beyond what was now a fairly small physical pain.
This was especially true done in front of an audience of fascinated
spectators. This sent more tears rolling from her red eyes. The fresh burn on
the bottom of her tit hurt terribly partly because the cigarette hadn’t
stayed in one spot and didn’t burn too deep resulting in a second-degree burn
with still very lively nerve endings. The thought that this was a tiny pain
was rather unsettling to say the least. She also thought this was the way
that Jasmine’s torture had started. “The good doctor to the slaves has given
me some pointers on how to play with fire without ruining your appearance
much and causing the most pain. You’ll be glad to hear that the two go
together since severe burns will destroy the nerve endings and reduce the
pain while causing heavy scarring. I’ve been told that any scars that result
from this we will be able to clean up and make practically invisible, just as
long as I’m careful and don’t get carried away, so I’ll be careful.”
Marla
lit a fresh cigarette. “Let’s see if you can hold still a bit better now that
you know the situation.”
Grabbing Pooch’s nipple between her thumb and the
knuckle of her forefinger, Marla picked up the right breast pulling it up and
out. Taking a deep puff to light up the end of her little torture stick she
brought it near the slave’s breast bone just at the juncture where the tit
attached to the chest and ran the tip down and around this borderline
rotating the cigarette between her fingers as she created a fiery incision.
Pooch had tried her best to steel herself for the pain and stay still but she
just couldn’t do it. This time too she tried to twist her body away only this
time Marla retained the firm, pinching grasp on the nipple stretching out the
swollen gland and pulling on the freshly burned skin. Fresh screams ensued.
Her near naked body now dripped with sweat. This time the cigarette did not
go out before Marla took a fresh drag and began touching the tip, just for a
fraction of a second all over the tit. Touch... burn... scream... touch...
burn... scream, fresh drag, repeat. All the while Marla kept the nipple
pinched between her fingers as Pooch tried to squirm away from the unbearable
pain. Pooch was frantic, teetering on the brink of striking out at her
Mistress and only fear of worse keeping her from doing so. Her mind managed
to stay coherent enough to tell that there was no escape as long as her legs
remained chained to the ground. As the cigarette continued to inflict intense
pain to her breast another thing gelled in her muddled mind. Any uncertainty
that she had regarding her ownership had disappeared. Ed became a faint image
from the past in a present that allowed no opportunity to think of the past.
There was only the moment or anticipation of what would come. Marla was her
owner and there would be nobody that would contest it. No white knight was
going to ride up on a white horse to rescue her. The only thing that any
knight would do is use her, fuck her probably have the horse fuck her too
before he was through. “You did better then I thought,”
Marla addressed Pooch
in an only slightly condescending manner. “I had you figured to try and push
me away but you’re smarter than I thought. Still you’re a long way away from
being well trained, so I’ll continue on your left bag.”
With those words
Marla grabbed the breast on which she had just inflicted a multitude of
burns, with her gloved hand and twisted it to the left causing Pooch to drop
to her knees as it felt like the flesh had all erupted in flame. The only
sound coming from her throat was a rush of air. “That’s a taste of what I’m
going to be doing next. You will have to do much better. Now stand up”
As she
rose again in obedience to her mistress Pooch didn’t know how she would ever
pass this impossible test. She saw what was happening to her burned right
tit. Much of it was blistered and Marla’s attack on it, with her gloved hand,
had broken some of the blisters. They oozed clear liquid. She had never
thought her body would ever be abused in this way. She wondered where it
would stop. Naturally this wasn’t casual wondering but just a brief flash of
thought as her senses were overwhelming her with pains from every segment of
her body. Her back felt like it was on fire thanks to the nettles, her womb
was becoming increasingly distressed and starting to cramp. The new terror of
presenting her left breast to Marla so she could give it the same treatment
as her right was simply too much. As she began to stand, still obedient to
her Mistress, her anus opened wide, fetid diarrhea burst from her ass,
covering her legs and the floor below in a runny mess. The live audience
burst out in laughter at the sight. Out of desperation for some small mercy
Pooch began to beg her owner for mercy. “Pooch is sorry Mistress she just
lost control of her body,”
she cried out. “Please Pooch didn’t mean anything
by it, she’ll clean it up, please let Pooch clean it up, please Mistress.
Pooch is yours, your property. Pooch promises she’ll live only to obey you.
She’s yours completely, body and soul. Mistress Pooch is so ashamed that her
body betrayed her.”
Marla looked at Pooch but not in the way Pooch had
feared. She didn’t show anger or even mocking. Instead she took the time to
talk to and console her slave. This, in fact, was the moment that Marla had
been waiting for. It was the moment that she recognized in her slave’s voice
and demeanor that she had really surrendered herself to her Mistress and was
broken. “Shhhh,”
Marla quieted her slave. “I think that mess has already made
one too many cycles through that gut of yours. You can just clean yourself up
in the shower a bit later. I’ll probably make you pay some sort of price for
it but don’t worry your little head over it right now. I think you really
meant what you just said to me just now and though in future I expect you to
keep your mouth shut unless spoken to, rule 11 you know, I’ll overlook it
this time if you hold still while I burn your other bag. Do you think you can
do that?”
The unexpected compassion from Marla caused a similarly unexpected
change in Pooch’s own feelings. Where she had expected a brutal attack she
received a touch of kindness. Maybe she just could hold still and show her
Mistress that she was not totally worthless. Maybe she could obey; Pooch was
ready to give it her total effort. After all it wasn’t her tits that Marla
was burning, they were Marla’s property, to do with as she pleased. “Yes
Mistress, Pooch thinks she can stay still.”
Pooch didn’t know why she told
her owner that she could stay still as her left breast was burned; she was
filled with doubt. Now it was different, she had actually taken on the
obligation herself and she just had to make good on her promise. She again
straightened herself up somehow feeling that she was standing a little taller
then a few minutes ago. Marla placed a fresh cigarette in Pooch’s mouth and
brought up her gold lighter, striking a flame as it neared the end of the
little white torture stick. Pooch drew in setting the tip aglow in bright
orange light. “Go ahead and inhale, there’s plenty more when I need them.”
Not normally a smoker the jolt of nicotine made the slave light headed almost
immediately distracting her a little from her fear and the serious,
unrelenting pain she was now feeling. Some smoke wafted into her eyes
stinging them a little and inducing more tears. “Get ready.”
Marla removed
the fire from between Pooch’s lips and brought it down right on top of the
unburned breast. Pooch shuddered and let out a gasp but she did not move.
Instead she directed her mind to her right sac which still hurt almost as
much as it had while it was being seared. This distracted her mind away from
the new pain. It was far from total distraction but enough keep her reflexes
in control. Marla repeated the entire routine that she had performed on the
right side, showing no mercy. This was not going to be a phony test with the
administrator cheating on behalf of the pupil. Pooch would have to prove her
worth, but just as any proud teacher would, Marla was rooting for her pupil
to succeed. When Marla dropped the cigarette and grabbed both tits in her
hands simultaneously squeezing and twisting them, Pooch let out her loudest
scream yet. Her knees weakened and began to buckle but somehow they did not
fail. “Well, well, seems like you have a little spine after all,”
Marla
commented as coldly as her secretly thrilled heart would allow. “Lower the
hook.”
The executioner walked over to a nearby wall and began turning a small
hand winch. This lowered a chain from the ceiling with a clasp hook on the
end, so that it stopped just above the slave's head. “Arms up over your head.
You may have shown me that there is some faint hope for you as my slave yet
but you certainly haven’t finished paying for your attempted escape. You will
now be free to make all the noise you like including begging for mercy, I
think these people may enjoy that, but I doubt it will get you any.”
Marla
fastened the hook to Pooch’s wrist cuffs and then motioned that it be raised.
“I want her good and tight so that she can’t evade my little whip. Those milk
sacs of hers are just about ready for a good taste of the lash. First though
we’ll just rub on a little of this special grease.”
The executioner hauled up
the beaten woman not only till her feet had cleared the floor but to the
point where he could barely turn the handle any longer and Pooch was
stretched like a bow string. Marla then scooped up a handful of the hot
pepper preparation with her gloved hand and began smearing both the swollen
orbs with it. Pooch went into hysterics with this new assault. Exposed nerve
endings were immediately assaulted by the hot peppers not only making her
breasts feel as though they were on fire but also the muscles in her chest
right up to her neck. It seems that in open wounds the effects of these hot
peppers can travel all along the nerves and right up to the head creating the
illusion of fire along the entire path. The effect can last for hours. Just
as Marla had predicted, Pooch began to beg for relief about as pitifully as
you would think humanly possible. “Please, please no more!!,”
she wailed
hoping beyond hope that Marla would listen. “Aughhhhhh, I can’t stand it,
mercy, please mercy. Aughhhhhhh!!!!”
“Mercy? You scheming, filthy cunt, how
dare you ask for mercy? You should have thought about the consequences when
you tried to weasel out of your agreement. I’m only preparing you now. Just
wait till I begin whipping those oversized udders of yours. You just can’t
seem to get it through your head that no matter how bad you think you hurt I
can make it worse.”
She instructed Ed to be ready with the smelling salts and
cold water and then picked up a new whip straight out of a bucket of brine.
It was the British Navy cat o’ nine tails. One just like Captain Bligh might
have used on any unruly sailors on the Bounty. In the hands of a powerful
whipmaster the knotted cords would have ripped the skin of off any poor
wretch’s back that was unlucky enough to be at the wrong end of it. In the
hands of Marla the effect would be somewhat less. The knots would leave
horribly deep bruises and the rough fibers would strip away any burnt skin.
With the way she had been prepared the sailor’s agony would pale in
comparison to that of the slave, though he would have been the more badly
damaged. The anguished wails turned to simple, incomprehensible gurgles.
Pooch couldn’t think anymore, only react to the horrible pain. “Just one last
little preparation.”
Marla produced a short bungee cord with one of those
extremely stiff clamps, used to bundle stacks of paper, on each end. She
could hardly open them up wide enough to snap them shut on the slaves still
un-mutilated areolas. First she clamped one nipple, then passed the elastic
cord behind the slaves neck pulling it taught until she could fasten it to
the opposite nipple. The tension of the cord caused great upward stretching
of the nipples exposing the undersides of the seared sacs to the claws of the
cat. “I don’t intend to miss any spots.”
While Pooch’s had been strictly
secured by the winch and hook, the effect on Marla was quite the opposite.
She had broken Pooch while she was still usable so now all she had to do was
make her pay dearly for her crimes. “How dare the stupid cunt think she could
run away from me”
, Marla began to fume. “I’ll make sure she doesn’t let it
cross her mind again.”
Pooch teetered on the edge of insanity; the pain was
so intense. The cruel springs squeezing her nipples were minor irritations in
comparison op the fire that was now consuming her upper body. The smelling
salts were ready to revive her as soon as she passed out. The lawyer’s
henchman would be ready to shove them under her nose at the slightest sign of
the slave loosing consciousness. Nothing else existed in her mind aside from
the wretched pain. Then the heavy, wet, ropes whistled through the air coming
down across Pooch’s raw, burnt, ultra sensitive bag bottoms. The sound of the
collision didn’t convey the effect on the soft breast meat at all. It was
just a dull THUD, loud but not alarming. The knots all landed on the right
bag crushing it against her collarbone and viciously stretching the already
taught bud. Burnt skin was ripped off exposing bleeding tissue and driving
salt and pepper right into freshly exposed nerve endings. Another stream of
pee gushed from between her legs triggering new laughter from the assembly,
The expression on her face went blank as the shock was just too much for her
to handle but quickly the strong salts jolted her back to full consciousness.
They were held there for a good long time. Pooch pulled back her head to
avoid the strongly irritating odor but the vial just followed her nose. Ed
would make sure that she would be alert for as long as Marla wished. The
knots struck a broad area with each stroke wreaking havoc not only with the
mammarys but also striking chest and ribs. After only eight blows most of the
visible chest had gone from red to purple to near black. Numerous spots of
bright red blood stood out against the dark background. Pooch alternated from
violent thrashing, within her narrow limits of movement, and quiet when the
executioner would immediately push the smelling salts under her nose. Marla
stopped the whipping and went to release the nipple clamps. Pooch pissed out
whatever urine had begun accumulating in her bladder. When the battered boobs
dropped down to her chest the audience could see even better the effect of
the cat. They had swollen so much that there was little sag to them left. The
nipples, now also black and blue from the tugging of the stiff clamps,
pointed straight out. Pooch was allowed a minute to regain some of her mental
faculties. “This is the type of treatment you can expect if you ever try to
escape from me again. I would like to think that you would never let it enter
your mind again. Do you think that you will ever try to escape again?”
“No
Mistress, Pooch is so sorry. She will never try to get away from you again.
Pooch is so sorry Mistress; she is yours as long as you want her Mistress...
Aughhhhh.”
“That’s good to hear. Unfortunately for you the punishment for
attempted escape isn’t over yet. I would like to make sure that you don’t
forget it. And, I expect you to understand why I’m doing this. It’s because I
seriously never want to have to worry about that sort of thing again. It
pissed me off, and when I get pissed off because of something you did I’m
going to take it out on your hide. If it does happen again you better know
that I’ll be even more upset ”
With that pronouncement Marla laid into the
still unscathed tops and bottoms of Pooch’s milk sacs. It started out as a
low whistle, a sort of ‘Whhhhhhhhhh’ and ended with a very brief ‘Oomph’ with
a simultaneous slapping sound. Whhhhhhhhhhumph (slap). One of the knots split
open her left nipple sending out a thick run of dark blood from the bruise
caused by the clamp. It had the effect of knocking the wind from the
desperate slave. Her eyes bugged out, as she didn’t understand what was
happening. Marla didn’t wait swinging the whip harder, Whhhhhhhhhhumph, and
striking the same spot. She was getting her range. Whhhhhhhhhhumph, again the
left bag only this time Marla swung down right on the top of the swollen, and
now completely discolored organ. “You’re going to love the special brassier I
had made for these things.”
Pooch heard nothing except,...“Whhhhhhhhhhumph.”
The smelling salts had to revive her only this time it took a little longer.
Pooch tried to hold on to unconsciousness. Her brain knew what was waiting
for her. The effect of the salts was so strong, however, that she came back
around in less then half a minute. She was weakening. After the tenth stroke
it took a minute and a half and her struggles were getting weak. Marla
thought it was humorous. “This is the other way to get you to stay still,”
she commented sarcastically. She found the thought of continuing her beating
on Pooch’s breasts after she stopped struggling to be very exciting. She
would whip her armpits and see if she moved. When the cruel Mistress did
bring the whip around striking her slave’s left armpit she did move although
very little. In fact all the muscles along the left side of her body went
into spasm curving the slaves spine into as much of as ‘C’ as her strict
bondage allowed. Marla would go on to the next phase. It was time to move
lower.
THE END
