Jane stood patiently by the post, arms behind her back, watching Towser as he dozed in the shade. She heard six o'clock chime faintly as her grandfather clock in the kitchen struck the hour. Immediately afterwards she saw Towser come alertly to his feet, then, with an excited little yelp, he trotted over to where she stood. Standing on his hind legs, he gripped the upper loop of the leather leash tethering Jane to the thick wooden post and deftly lifted it off the hook holding it, four feet up on the wall. Then he removed the lower loop in the same manner. Holding it firmly in his jaws, he led her out of the small inner yard and across the larger one into the small outhouse where she pressed down with a foot on the large floor-mounted push-button switch. Dropping her leash, Towser dashed back across the yard to the kitchen porch and looked up expectantly. There came a faint click from overhead, and a small juicy steak dropped on the dusty ground at his feet. Towser fell on it with alacrity, crunching it down in seconds. Jane walked over patted Tower's bent head, 'Good boy!' she told him. Finished, he sat back and looked up at her, his brown eyes sparkling with fun and intelligence; he LOVED this new game!
A few minutes later Jane sat at her kitchen table sipping tea as she methodically went over the details of the new ordeal she intended for herself. The dog's part in it - the simple tasks she'd trained him to accomplish - was now flawless; Towser could be relied on to play his part. She thought about the release mechanism for her mitts; that, too, was well-tried and 100% reliable - and, even if Towser did prove unreliable, the batteries in the cuffs would run down in sixty or so hours allowing her to release herself without his assistance. There was no reason why the scenario should not take place as planned, she thought complacently; the hot, sunny weather was set to continue, and everything was in order.
She rose at five the next morning. Still naked from her bed, and not bothering to wash or shower, nor even to comb her long auburn hair, she slathered sunblock all over her shoulders, back, buttocks and thighs, then over her breast and flat stomach. (It was pig sunblock, a large barrel of which she'd inherited with the property, and it was perfectly suitable for human beings - apart from its rancid smell). Her anticipation made her impatient for the sun to fully rise and flood the yards with its weak, early warmth, and she spent a few minutes in a final alteration to the timer on the reliable clockwork mechanism she'd built to send the ultra-sonic signals to the dog's ears. After feeding him a little more than usual, instead of filling his water bowl she set down in its stead a large, shallow bowl eighteen inches across and three inches deep, and splashed water into t until it was full. Then she walked off into the maze of buildings carrying the simple equipment she would need. Towser lifted his head from his food bowl to watch his Mistress's slim, bare back disappear around a corner, his eyes bright with excitement at the beginning of a new Game. He knew what to do, and he lowered his head again to eat as he waited for the first signal.
In the empty expanse of the long disused cowshed she discarded the wooden-soled sandals she'd worn to hide the scent of her trail from the dog's keen nose and swiftly donned her restraints. First the gag - if that was the correct description, she thought as she inserted the plastic gadget into her mouth and manoeuvred its two ends between the middle molars on either side on her mouth. Biting down gently but firmly, she felt the hard, thin plastic bar trap her tongue across its middle, pinning it to the floor of her mouth. It served the essential purpose of a gag, she thought with a silent giggle; it made her dumb. But it was better than a gag, for she could eat and drink wearing it, too.
Then the hobble around her ankles - two thick padded cuffs linked by a heavy chain seven inches long. Long practice had made her expert in shuffling along hobbled, and she was quite confident she wouldn't stumble or fall. After the hobble came the thick, heavy, close-linked choke-chain, still attached to its four foot long leather leash. She slipped it over her head, aware of the moistness between her legs as the smooth hardness of its cool links settled around the base of her throat, tightened purely by the weight of the leash dangling from it. Then she put on her broad and comfortable blindfold. When she was satisfied that she could open and close her eyes comfortably in the blackness, she swiftly donned her mitts, heavy with the batteries sewn into their thick cuffs. Expertly operating the simple catches with her teeth, she locked them around her wrists, before placing her arms behind her back and manoeuvring the steel plates set in each cuff so that they touched each other.
Then she waited in her self-imposed blindness, getting wetter and wetter between her thighs, for the timer-controlled radio signal that would switch on the magnets in her cuffs. When, after only a brief interval, she heard the faint hum of the electromagnets, and felt the tiny movement as steel plates aligned themselves to cling immovably together, she climaxed with a groan of delight before standing, trembling in remembered ecstasy, for several minutes.
But there was no time to lose - the more so as she'd earlier disabled the timer setting that would have released her after a pre-set period. She must win the game before Towser tracked her down and did what he'd been so carefully trained to do for the reward he'd been trained to expect. Blind and hobbled, she estimated her chances as no more than one in four, but first the dog would have to find her among this large area of sheds, lean-tos and unused barns, and there were several ways into the yard she was aiming for. Having carefully memorised her route, amd knowing exactly where she was, she set out at a confident shuffle towards the broad doorway of the cow shed. Once deep among the baffling maze of outbuildings she went more cautiously in fear of collisions with the walls, and her speed was reduced to a slow and uncertain crawl.
Despite the knowledge she imagined she'd acquired of her premises she was hopelessly lost when Towser found her at last. Hearing the fast patter of his paws on the hard-packed soil, she stopped in her tracks in resignation and waited for the dog to go through his thoroughly-learnt routine. She heard his excited panting, and felt his furry flank brush her lower thighs as his teeth clamped around the lower loop of her halter. Then the chain tightened painfully around her neck as Towser tugged her along. Jane shuffled along meekly behind him, feeling the familiar moistness at the top of her thighs again. It was such a delicious feeling, being led helplessly along by a dog, her every movement controlled by an animal. And she knew there was more to come.
Jane gave a startled grunt of pain as her shoulder and right breast collided heavily with something large and solid. Then she heard the scrabble of Tower's front paws on wood and felt the leather of her leash scrape across her flank as the dog raised himself on his hind legs. She heard the slither of leather over steel as he slipped the lower loop of the leash over the hook screwed into the wood, then her collar chain tightened with a painful jerk as Towser shifted his grip to the upper loop, two feet up the leash towards her neck. The dog's weight pulled her head down as he slipped the upper loop over the hook, and her head rang with force of its collision with the wood. Through the ringing in her ears she heard the dog flop down to the ground and trot away to sit under the chute that would dispense his reward - in this case a small bar of gritty 'pet' chocolate.
Left to herself, Jane considered her delicious predicament, first moving a few inches closer to where her halter was fastened to allow her chain-collar to loosen. She was plainly visible from all angles to any casual passer-by, and she imagined the view as seen by an outsider - of her, blind, naked and helpless, with her arms locked behind her, tethered like a beast to a wooden post, unable to move more than the two feet her leash allowed her. At this mental picture, the moisture welled up between her thighs once more until she spent herself in a mini-climax and leant, shuddering, against the warm wood of the post.
As she'd known it would, the usual aftermath set in - what on Earth was she to do for the next several hours. She tugged vainly at her leash for a few minutes - not bothering to try to manoeuvre the loops of her tether back over the curve of the hook holding them, for she knew from experience that it was impossible with her flat face and weak jaws - before taking up a position standing squarely on her feet by her post, almost the only posture she could adopt, as her tether was much too short to let her kneel or sit. Bereft of her sight, she strained her ears to catch any passing sound - so much so that she began to suffer the aural version of hallucinations, imagining footsteps in the distance; the thought of discovery bringing her out in a cold sweat of terror.
Her bladder was uncomfortably full, and, as there was no point at all in restraining herself, she spread her legs the little her hobble allowed and urinated gushingly between her feet, feeling the warm liquid flow down her thighs and legs, and pool around her feet. As she urinated, she fancied that she felt a slight pressure in her colon, and she recalled with a sinking feeling that the mild laxative she had taken the night before, in order that her bowels might be empty when she began her ordeal, had not worked that morning. There was, of course, nothing she could do to affect that, and so she would have to put up with whatever her body decided for her.
She tensed involuntarily as she heard real footsteps rapidly approaching, but it was only the dog on some errand of his own, and she relaxed. But the footsteps halted, and she imagined Towser standing a few feet away, his head turned to regard his Mistrees, his nose intrigued by her unusual smell. Motionless with delicious fear, she felt his hairy neck brush her calves as he sniffed the drying pool of urine she stood in, then his nose followed its scent up her legs and thighs. The pungent smell of her genitals attracted him, and he poked his damp, cold nose enquiringly into her vagina, causing to recoil the few inches she could with a startled squeal. She felt the inexpressible thrill of his warm, wet, rough tongue licking her labia, and she almost climaxed again on the spot, but Towser, with the vague feeling that something was missing, turned away and trotted off.
Jane passed an agreeable interlude trying to imagine her dog's reactions to her as she was now. Ordinarily the most fastidious of young women, washing her hair at least once daily and showering twice or thrice, changing her clothes twice daily too on the rare occasions she was compelled to wear any, she thought that, to Towser, her characteristic odour must be very faint. But now that it was overlain by the pungent scents of her drying urine, the juices from her vagina, her sweat, and the powerful stench of the pig sunblock on her hot skin, she must be almost unrecognisable to him. Did he think of her, she wondered, as his Mistress smelling strongly like an animal, or an animal smelling faintly of his Mistress? The moisture welled in her vagina at the thought - but she was far too hot, and too tired, and too thirsty to take her fantasy any further.
Towser woke from his doze in the shade. Opening his eyes lazily, he looked across the sunbaked yard to where 'the mistress-bitch,' as he thought of Jane in her present incarnation, still stood by the post he'd tethered her to early that morning. Rising slowly to his feet, he yawned, stretched, and began to pad off purposefully towards the kitchen porch and water. The time was just after mid-day, and the shadows were almost at their shortest when Jane heard the soft padding of Towser's feet passing her, bringing her out of the apathetic half trance in which she'd spent the last hours. Momentarily she feared that the dog would stop and repeat his actions of earlier, then she feared that he wouldn't. Then a tiny ray of hope sprang up in her tired brain. Would this be the second time Towser drank from the bowl since he'd brought her here, or the third? If it was only the second, she must resign herself to stay thirsty, but if it was the third - she ran her dry tongue around her parched lips and prayed fervently.
The dog's right fore paw came down on the pressure pad before his bowl. A current flowed to an electronic counter which obediently changed state in response. That triggered the ultrasonic transmitter to send out an urgent signal, causing Towser's ears to come upright in surprise just as he was lowering his muzzle into the water. The dog shook his head as his slow brain went through its simple search for the correct response. Of course! He turned his head and looked back at the bitch-mistress for a moment as his thoughts cleared, then trotted over to her.
Jane heard the urgent noise of Towser's feet before she felt his heavy body jostle her aside roughly as the dog raised himself to unhook the loops of her halter. What she had found impossible the dog accomplished easily, and seconds later she heard his paws scrabble on the hard ground and felt the chain tighten around her throat as he tugged insistently on her leash. Stiff in limb and half-stunned by the heat, Jane stumbled along, whimpering in fear, terrified the impatient dog would pull her off balance and make her fall flat on her face. Towser stopped and gave a doggy sigh of impatience. The tall thing tottering behind him on its long hind legs was making little noises of distress. He waited for it to recover its precarious balance before tugging on its halter again, this time more carefully. Jane shuffled along at the end of her leash, obeying the dog's directions, until the pressure on her neck stopped and Towser's hard, furry head butted her insistently in the stomach. That was the signal that they had arrived at their destination, and Jane dropped clumsily to her knees. Bending forward at the waist, she lowered her head and shoulders to grope for the invisible water bowl she knew was somewhere in front of her. But she was a long way off course, and Towser impatiently darted forward to seize a thick lock of her hair in his jaws and drag her head across and down to the bowl. Once he was confident that she was able to drink, he moved to the other side of the broad bowl and lowered his own head to lap the water.
The dog drank his fill. Finishing first, he sat and watched Jane, head lowered and rump in the air, as she noisily slurped up the stale, warm water. The smell of this odd creature continued to puzzle and intrigue him, with its odd faint scent of his Mistress mingling with the sour reek of its body, and he trotted around to investigate the crack between its buttocks, causing it to give a little start of surprise.
Jane drank as much as her belly could hold. She had no idea at all what the time was, and in any event her next access to water, like her eventual release, would be at the whim of her dog - or, rather, her dog's hunger and thirst. Her stomach swollen, she sat back on her haunches and swept her wet hair from her face with a practised flick of her head. She waited meekly for Towser to take her away, for, although the dog no longer held her leash, she could sense his presence, and the moment she stood and attempted to feel her way blindly across the yard to the outhouse, Towser would seize her halter in his teeth like a flash. She could hear the dog eating from his bowl, and her heart sank at the memory of her folly in giving him more than his usual ration of food that morning, and of her disabling the timer switch which would have sent him the signal to release her at about 6 pm. Instead it had been her last-minute inspiration to rely upon his hunger. Used to being fed some juicy tit-bit whenever he obeyed the signal, when it didn't come he would get hungrier and hungrier until it ocurred to his doggy brain that he might get his reward without waiting for the delayed signal, and release Jane anyway. Of course, if he didn't grasp the concept, Jane would be stuck like this until the batteries in her cuffs ran down at about 6 pm in two days time - a prospect she dared not even consider.
Towser finished the little that had remained in his bowl from the morning, sat up, and licked his lips. He took another drink, then sat and regarded the odd creature, with its confusing and ambivalent smells, that he'd been trained to manage. It had finished drinking, so he darted forwards and seized its trailing halter in his teeth. Snarling, he pulled hard on the leather loop, then waited in patient disgust as the thing clumsily climbed to its hind legs in response. He tugged again on its leash, and it began to follow him obediently. Impatiently, he dragged it across the yard to its post, where a few seconds sufficed to tether it where it been before. Panting, his tongue lolling from the side of his mouth, he watched it for a moment before going off on yet another search for his absent Mistress.
Jane heard the dog trot away with dull misery. Even the recent experience of being led away to drink and back, then tethered to her post like a docile beast failed to give her the usual guilty thrill. Her feet were swollen and her legs ached with the constant standing on the hard soil, and she had several hours of this slow torture to endure even if her scheme worked. And if it didn't.....She shuddered at the prospect. At least she wouldn't be thirsty again for some time, she thought, thinking of the water she'd forced down into her protesting stomach. That abused organ gurgled in protest, and she belched, feeling a surge of stale water in the back of her throat. Her body sagging with fatigue, she tried to get comfortable by leaning on her post, but the ache in her muscles merely spread to her upper thighs. Try as she might, she could find no more comfortable a position than to stand by the post as she had for the last endless hours. She was beginning to feel an overloaded sensation in her gut - the result of her swollen stomach, she thought at first - but then the first of a series of increasingly urgent messages from her bowels began to reach her weary brain. Sobbing silently, she spread apart her thighs the little distance she could and emptied her bowels in an unending stream between her legs. Her bowels spasmed again and again, ridding themselves of the load they'd carried for the last three days. With them emptied at last, Jane leaned against the post, feeling the slimy warmth of the last of her faeces sliding down the inside of her thighs to join the thick puddle around her feet, and wept, the tears escaping through the tiny gap between the sides of her nose and her cheeks to trickle into her mouth.
There followed a long period of of non-activity of which Jane remembered nothing. She must have spent it in a state of trance, so weary and miserable she was, but she came out of oddly refreshed in her mind, if not in her body. Slumped by the side of her hated post, she used all the senses she could command in a methodical examination of her whereabouts. She could hear birdsong, and it was much cooler - intimations of evening. The faint breeze had died, and she knew that it would be cold later. Deliberately she avoided thinking about the looming possibilty of her spending the night here. Her hopes rested on her dog following the scenario she hoped he would, and she wondered where he was and what he was doing.
Towser lay on his belly under the kitchen porch, whining miserably. It was late, and he was hungry, and his Mistress still hadn't returned. He glanced over the yard to where the bitch-mistress, still clearly visible through the gathering gloom, stood by its post. He sat, and turned his head to look up at the metal chute far above him through which his delicious rewards would come. But it was long past the time when the thin sound of the ultrasonic signal told him to do the duty for which he'd be rewarded, Confused and unhappy, he lay down again and wondered vaguely what to do. Half an hour later he rose with an air of decision. Signal or not, he would lead the tall beast to the outhouse as he'd been trained. Then he'd return to stand under the chute and see if his reward was delivered.
Jane, who had relapsed into complete, unthinking apathy, was startled out of it by Towser's sudden appearance. Pushing her aside, he stood with his front paws against the post and deftly unhooked the two loops on Jane's leash. Gripping the end loop firmly in his teeth, he led the tall thing, tottering with fatigue, across the yard to the outhouse. Dropping its leash on the threshold, he trotted back to the porch and sat under the chute, looking upward expectantly.
Jane was almost hysterical with relief. She took a faltering step into the shed and probed feverishly with her foot for the dome of the switch. Finding it, she pressed down savagely, hearing the faint hum of the magnets in her cuffs stop abruptly. She stood for a moment unmoving, enjoying to the full the blissful feeling that she could free herself at will, before bringing her arms to the front of her body, wincing at the ache in her tortured arm muscles. Lifting her left mitt to her mouth, she tore savagely at the securing clamp with her teeth. It popped open, and she pulled it from her hand with hysterical relief. Her blindfold, and the other mitt swiftly followed, then she slipped the heavy choke chain over her head with a heartfelt sigh of satisfaction. With fresh strength she hobbled form the outhouse and crossed the yard to the kitchen, Towser giving her a puzzled glance as she passed him. The first thing she did, even before cleaning herself up, was to operate the switch to release his reward.
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