Title: CHAPTER 3
Author: Bob Hurst
Last saved by: RHURST
Company: OUHSC

CHAPTER 3

Mitch seeks to push Heather's limits through humiliation. Memories of her parents return including sexual abuse. 

Story codes: MF, MFF, bd sm piss, bg, Mg

CHAPTER 3

Heather awoke the next morning with an ache in her crotch.  The pale gray light outside told her the hour was still early.  She felt the deep frustration of not having come even though she’d gotten so close!  Then there was the problem of her full bladder.  She knew better than to awaken Mitch and Gabrielle.  A slave just didn’t do that.  She would have to suffer until they awoke.

She drifted in and out of that land between sleep and wakefulness for an unknown time, and each time her bladder told her she needed to urinate.  Finally she heard Mitch and Gabrielle moving in the bed.  “Please, Master,” she said. “I need to go to the bathroom.”  

Her announcement produced silence, then Mitch arose from the bed.  He looked down at her and smiled.  She looked up at him from the floor.  His cock was half hard, and it made her tingle.  She realized that in spite of all the fucking last night, she was horny.

“Good morning, my little slave.”  He passed by and went into the bathroom, where the hissing sound of his urine splashing into the water almost made her lose her bladder.  Mitch flushed and washed his hands.  The sounds of running water caused her to cross her legs.  

As Mitch left the bathroom, she saw he had a glass of water in his hand.  He smiled as he placed it to her lips.  “You probably have morning mouth, slave.  Drink.”  He tipped the glass and she felt the water on her lips.  She did feel a little parched, so she drank, fully expecting that her master would then release her to go to the bathroom.  But when she finished the glass, he simply set it on the dresser and climbed back into bed.

Heather couldn’t believe that he hadn’t released her for the bathroom.  Gabrielle then left the bed and passed by her without a glance.  Again, the sounds of Gabrielle urinating with the door open and the sounds of flushing and water flowing caused Heather to feel that sense of aching urgency only a full bladder brings.  She wondered what would happen if she lost it there on the floor.

As Gabrielle returned to the bed, Heather spoke up, again, “Please, Masters.  I need to go to the bathroom.  I’m about to lose it.”

She was ignored, and then she heard sounds of Mitch and Gabrielle fucking.  What would she do?  The bed shook, and their cries filled the room until they both came.  Heather also felt her own juices begin to flow, which only made her need to urinate even worse.

“Please, Masters, I’m ready to wet the floor!” she whimpered.

“If you do, slave, you will have to clean it up, probably with your tongue.  You are annoying your Masters and will have to be punished.”

Heather was shocked, but said nothing for a moment.  Then she heard Mitch climb off the bed.  He leaned over her, his half-hard cock glistening with Gabrielle’s juices and his own semen.  “Lick me clean, Slave.”

Obediently she took his cock into her mouth, enjoying the salty taste of the mingled juices as she sucked it clean.  Mitch leaned down and undid the cuffs.  Heather started toward the bathroom.

“I didn’t give you permission, Slave,” said Mitch, slapping her bottom hard.  The sting radiated.

“But, Master, I have to go!” she pleaded.

“You go where and when I tell you to.  Is that clear?  You will learn obedience!”  She looked into his eyes and saw no hint of kindness, only sternness.  Yet, that was strangely comforting, that he would care enough to be strict with her.  She felt so unworthy!

“Now come lick Mistress Gabrielle clean, and you can go.”

“Yes, Master.”  Gabrielle lay on the bed and spread her legs.  Heather saw Mitch’s white semen leaking out of her.  She actually wanted to lick Gabrielle clean.  Almost greedily she began licking Gabrielle, enjoying the musky odor and slick, salty taste of her pussy, swollen and red from sex.  Gabrielle began to moan, and Heather licked harder, her tongue probing all the folds.  She spread Gabrielle’s lips and licked the orifice to her vagina, greedily lapping up everything.  She wanted to make Gabrielle come, so she spread her lips even wider and pushed up to expose Gabrielle’s clit.  She licked it, and Gabrielle thrust her hips forward and moaned.  Her hands scratched at the outsides of her thighs and she panted as she built toward a climax.

Then Gabrielle came explosively releasing her own fluids that spurted all over Gabrielle’s face and tongue.  Greedily Heather lapped it up, too, enjoying the slight acid taste.  Gabrielle pushed her face away.  “Enough, slut.”

Heather pulled back and crossed her legs, almost ready to burst.  “Please, Master, she whimpered.”

“OK,” answered Mitch.

Heather leaped up and began to run toward the bathroom.

“What are you doing, slut?  You can’t use our bathroom!  You’re just a slut, not a Master!”

Heather stopped in shock, almost letting her urine spurt out.

“You can go outside in the yard.”

“The yard, Master?”

“Yes, the yard.  You are our bitch this morning, and dogs pee outside.”

Heather was desperate.  “But what about the toilet in my room?”

“Are you questioning me, bitch?” Mitch asked threateningly.

“No, Master,” she said.  She grabbed her crotch to keep from peeing.

“Good,” Mitch replied.  “Then I suggest you go outside and take care of your business.  Unless, of course, you pee on the floor.  It’s good hardwood, and you could lick it up before any damage is done.”

Heather’s stomach turned at the thought of licking up her own urine, particularly from the floor.  She felt a strange tingling, though, at the thought of urinating outside.  The yard was fenced, and maybe only the next door neighbor might see her.  She’d never seen the neighbor except once in the street.  She remembered him as being a rather tall and muscular middle-aged man with striking blue eyes.  She felt a quick, perverse hope that the neighbor might be looking, but she suppressed the thought with shame.

“Yes, Master,” she said.  Mitch unlocked the sliding glass door that led outside, and Heather stepped out into the beautiful morning.  Birds chirped their welcome.  The flagstones of the patio felt cool and rough on her bare feet. She stopped for a moment to look for a place.

“Get your ass over to the bushes,” Mitch ordered.  “I don’t want you to stain the flagstones or stink up anywhere near the house.  Bark, bitch!”

“But I’m not a dog, Master!” she bleated.  She felt a small dribble down her leg.

“No, you are far too proud and self-centered to be a dog, slave.  Bark!”  

The rebuke stung, but Heather knew she had no time to think and no choice.  The piercing ache in her crotch was intolerable, and so she barked, yipping like a small dog.  Mitch laughed and closed the sliding glass door.

A little more urine leaked out, and she felt the warm dribble running down her leg.  Holding herself, she ran toward a corner of the yard where some shrubbery might grant her a little privacy.  The grass prickled her bare feet, but as she ran, she felt her control begin to give way.  Urine came out in small, hot spurts, running down her thighs and over her hand as she tried desperately to hold herself.  She just knew that neighbor was watching and laughing, or looking at her with lust.  Strangely, that his eyes might be feasting on her nakedness excited her.  The humiliation of having to urinate in front of him made her face burn.

The small release relieved enough of the pressure to allow her to reach the shrubbery without a flood.  Gratefully she squatted and released her urine in a hot stream.  She heard it hissing as it struck the mulch, releasing the rich smell of earth and the acrid smell of hot urine.  She looked up as blessed relief came and saw the neighbor.  And he was staring at her. He was sitting on his deck drinking coffee.  He took his cup to his lips and his eyes caught hers.  A sense of abject humiliation washed over her.  She felt low, like a dog, forced to urinate in public.  She was Mitch and Gabrielle’s slave, not some animal.  She was doing this because she wanted to free herself and to give herself the experience of releasing her will.  Yet, here she was pissing in public like the lowest slut, or an animal.  She remembered that first time, when Mitch had said she should let his dog mount her.  It had been a test, of course, to let her prove she had a will and was in control.  However, at this moment, she could imagine herself on all fours, offering her rump to the dog and letting him mount her.  She was just a beast, pissing in the yard.  Why was Mitch doing this to her?  Yet, she knew she could walk out at any moment, and with this realization her sense of control began to return.  Well, peeing where the neighbor could see wasn’t really all that bad, when she thought about it.  It was just a bodily function, after all, and perfectly natural.  

She felt the warm wetness on her feet, and as she tried to reposition herself, she lost her balance and fell backward with her legs splayed apart.  As she did, her stream shot upward and then down onto her belly and thighs.  She could see the neighbor laughing. Her face flamed crimson, but it was just too late.  The sudden fall had momentarily knocked the breath out of her, and she could only lay on the ground as the last of her urine just flowed out as it would.  She felt the warm, wetness all over her lower body and the prickliness of the mulch on her back.

As the stream slowed to a trickle, she regained her feet and squatting again allowed the last of her urine to drip to the ground.  As she finished, she heard her neighbor say something.  Horrified that he might be speaking to her and that she might have to reply, she was relieved to see a woman step out onto the balcony with a pot of coffee in her hand.  The woman was naked except for what appeared to be a collar around her neck, Heather noted with surprise.  She wondered if this neighbor and Mitch were part of some weird S and M cult.

Heather then realized she was a mess.  What would she do?  Mitch answered for her from inside the patio door.  “Holy shit, slave, you are a stinking mess!  You managed to piss all over yourself.  Bring me the hose, and I’ll hose you off.”

“Yes, Master,” she said.  She tried to maintain whatever dignity she had as she walked through the cool prickly grass to where the hose was rolled neatly on a reel.

“Turn it on at the faucet, but turn off the nozzle,” Mitch ordered.  Obediently, she took the hose and began unreeling it.  She handed him the nozzle.  “Back up, you disgusting, smelly bitch,” he said.  “You pissed all over yourself, and then it appears you wallowed in it.”

“Yes, Master.  I’m sorry, Master.”  She wanted to say something about the neighbor, but she knew Mitch had to have seen him.  This must be part of the humiliation.  Well, if Mitch didn’t care, she couldn’t.

“I’ll just hose you off,” he said, turning the nozzle.  The water spurted out in a hard stream into the yard.  Mitch aimed it at her, and the stream struck her in the middle of her chest.  The shock of the cold water caused her to gasp.  The hard stream played over her breasts causing her nipples to tingle, but also the pain of the pounding water lanced through her.  The stream worked its way down her belly.

“Spread your legs, slut, so I can wash you off.”

Conscious that the neighbor was watching, she spread her legs, and the hard stream struck her sensitive parts.  Gasping with pain and shock from the cold, she tried to keep her legs apart.

“Turn around, bend over and spread, bitch!”

Obediently she turned around, bent over and spread her cheeks.  The water stream struck hard.  She felt it filling her vagina and pounding on her clitoris, and even penetrating her bottom.  The stream also struck her under her chin, and she sputtered as the water entered her nose.  The stream flicked her nipples painfully, and then struck her again between the legs.  

“Legs wide and hands on the ground!” Mitch ordered.

Obediently she did, and the water pounded all her sensitive parts until she wanted to scream.  The water filled her nose, causing her to choke. She felt totally exposed, helpless, and knew Mitch could do anything he wanted to her while the neighbor watched. This was worse than a beating, but, still she felt the tingling in her groin that she had learned always seemed to accompany pain.

Mercifully, the hosing ended after what seemed like an eternity, but which couldn’t have been more than five minutes.  She shivered in the cool San Francisco air, her teeth chattering, as the water puddled about her feet.  

Mitch shut the patio door, leaving her naked and wet outside.  “Dry off in the sunshine.  I’ll let you in, later,” he’d said.  Heather found a place in the sun, very conscious that the neighbor was watching her.  She didn’t bother trying to conceal anything.  All she wanted was some warmth from the sun, but she got memories as well.

She was seven, again, and she’d become curious.  Her mother had hammered into her that you should never let a boy “see you down there,” or let one touch you.  She had talked to Courtney, her sister, then ten.

“When you let boys touch you, their peepees get stiff.  It’s a lot of fun!” Courtney had told her.  “I let three boys do it at once, and I played with their peepees.”  Heather remembered the look on Courtney’s face.  She now recognized it as lust.  “Sean even squirted some white stuff out of the end when I rubbed him.”

Sean’s younger brother, Kevin, was just her age, so that gave her the idea.  She offered to show Sean hers if he would show her his.  Courtney had been right.  Sean’s peepee had gotten stiff.  She let him watch her pee, and that was when her mother caught them.

“You filthy little monster!” her mother had shrieked, grabbing her by her hair and dragging her out of the brush in the vacant lot toward home.  She was still naked.  Kevin had run, leaving his clothes. Her mother had grabbed Heather’s and dragged her naked back to the house while Heather sobbed with shame and fear.  She knew her father would be harsh.

They took her, still naked, into the bathroom as her mother told her father what had happened.

“You are an evil little girl!” her mother shouted at her.

“Yes, you tempted that little boy!” her father said, raging.  “You put Satan before him, and Satan entered him.” 

“Daddy, I’m sorry!  I just wanted to see what little boys looked like and why you and Mommy kept telling me not to,” she sobbed.  

Her mother’s voice took on a more solicitous tone.  “Honey, Satan had just possessed you.  We need to show you the evil that can happen when Satan gets into you.  Your Daddy will play the part of Kevin.  Now what were you doing?”

“I told him I would show him mine if he showed me his.  Then we wanted to see how the other peed.”

“Show your Daddy yours!” she ordered, sitting her on the countertop and spreading her legs.

Her father had then explored her with his hands while her mother watched.  She wondered why she was having these memories.  She had forgotten all about this.  In fact, she realized she had forgotten almost everything about what her parents had done.  The rest of the memory returned.  They’d sat her on the toilet and watched her urinate, then her father had taken off his pants.  She remembered his penis, large and threatening, and when she’d touched it, he’d moaned.  Then her mother had taken it in her hand and stroked it until the white stuff came out.  

“God, they were sick!” she said aloud to herself.  But then she remembered feeling stimulated, and she felt a deep shame.  She was pretty bad, herself.

When she had dried, Mitch opened the door and let her in.

“Master, may I speak?” Heather asked.

“What about, Slave?”

“I hope we didn’t offend your neighbor.  He was sitting on his deck drinking coffee.”

Mitch laughed.  “Offend Don Anderson?  Is he offended when we let the dog out to do his business in the yard?  That’s all you are right now is our pet.”

“Yes, Master,” she said, lowering her eyes.

“So why are you standing up?” asked Gabrielle.  “You should be on all fours.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Heather said, getting down on the floor. 

“Excellent,” said Mitch.  “For the rest of the day, you will be our pet.  I don’t want to hear you speak at all.  Whatever you need, you will have to ask for it as if you were a dog.  If you are a very good dog, you will receive a reward, but if you are a bad dog, you will be punished.”

Heather rubbed her head against Mitch’s thigh.  He laughed and scratched her head.

“How about some breakfast, Gabrielle?”

Mitch and Gabrielle left the bedroom and walked toward the kitchen.  Heather followed along on all fours as best she could.  She was hungry.

The delicious smell of bacon cooking in the microwave greeted her as she crawled into the kitchen on all fours.  Her knees hurt from the hardwood floors.  Gabrielle seemed to be scrambling some eggs.  Heather wondered how she would eat, but she wasn’t going to ask.  She was surprised when the two of them sat down at the kitchen table and ignored her.  Then she remembered that dogs begged.  She crawled over to the table and sat up like a dog, holding her hands in front of her like paws.  She whimpered.

Gabrielle laughed.  “Oh, look, our dog is begging at the table!”  She took a piece of bacon and broke off a chunk, which she gave to Heather.  Gabrielle scratched her under the chin, just as if she were a dog.  Heather felt oddly warmed at the gesture, as if she were being loved in some fundamentally important way.  Never mind that she was naked, acting like a dog.

Mitch then took a small plate and placed it on the floor.  The yellow eggs looked inviting to Heather, so she crawled over to the plate.  “Here, doggy,” he laughed.  “Here’s your dish.”

She lowered her face to the eggs, which smelled quite savory, and began to eat.  Her bottom was in the air, and she felt hands between her legs, fondling her, stroking her wet clit.  She looked behind her and saw it was Gabrielle.  She spread her legs a bit to make it easier and licked up the last bit of egg with her tongue.  Heather knew the humiliation should make her feel bad, but it didn’t.  As she licked up the creamy scrambled eggs like a dog, she felt a sense of liberation, of freedom from everything.  She could just float without the burdens of responsibility.  All she had to do was accept whatever Mitch and Gabrielle handed out, and she could do that.  She reveled in it, in fact.  For the first time in a long time, she felt as if she belonged.  Always she’d felt herself to be the unworthy outsider, but Mitch and Gabrielle, as they handed out debasement and humiliation, showed they loved her.

“You know, Gabrielle, our bitch should have her own water and food bowls.  It’s not a good thing to let them eat from  people dishes.”

“You’re right, Mitch.  Don’t we have a couple of extra dog bowls somewhere?  Yes, I think I know where they are.”

She quit diddling Heather’s clit, which disappointed her greatly.  She felt that with the proper stimulation for long enough, she could have that first orgasm.  As Heather finished the last of the eggs.  Gabrielle returned with two pet bowls made of red plastic.  “I just remembered we had these, Mitch!”  She filled one with water and placed it on the floor in the corner of the kitchen.  “There, our bitch has fresh water.  Lap it up!”

Heather felt completely humiliated, and yet, there was something interesting about the feeling of having no will, of being forced into debasing acts.  Heather crawled on all fours over to the water dish and lapped it up.  It wasn’t a particularly efficient way to drink, and some dripped onto the floor.  She was afraid Mitch or Gabrielle would see it and punish her, so she smeared the drops around with her hand, hoping they would dry quickly.

“We can use the other bowl for her food,” Gabrielle added.

“Of course we’ll have to keep Cassius out of it,” Mitch said, referring to their dog, a boxer.

As if on cue, Cassius came galumphing into the kitchen and saw the water bowl.  He was a medium sized boxer with big feet.  Heather was dismayed as the dog went to the dish and lapped up the water.  What would she do, now?

Gabrielle laughed.  “Oh, look, the dogs are sharing a water dish!”  

Mitch laughed as well.

“Please, Master, could I have clean water?” Heather asked.

Mitch looked at her with a steely, angry face.  “Are you suggesting that we don’t know how to take care of our pet?”

“No, Master,” she answered.

“Did I not tell you that you were not to speak without permission?”

“Yes, Master.”

“And you spoke up without asking permission, did you not?”

“Yes, Master.  I am very sorry.  I am still learning how to be a slave.”

“And now you make excuses?”

“No, Master.  Please forgive me, Master,” she said, suddenly realizing that she was probably going to be punished.  She grabbed Mitch’s foot and began kissing it, hoping to debase herself.  Her lips were all over Mitch’s foot, even sucking on his toes.  The slight roughness of Mitch’s calluses excited her as did the faint foot odor.  She’d known all along that deep inside the demon waited.  The demon was her feeling of worthlessness.  She’d tried to hide from it, to deny its existence, but always it was there, sabotaging her in so many ways.  And now she could face it and revel in it.  It really wasn’t so frightening after all.

“What are you doing?” Mitch asked.

“Kissing my Master’s feet to prove to him that I know I am worthless.  If you would rather make me suck your cock and come in my mouth, I would love to do that for you, Master.  I will do anything for you.”

“Do you want to punish her, Gabrielle?”

“Let’s make her be our dog all day.  Perhaps we should even take her for a walk.”

“It’s a pity we can’t take her out, naked.”

The very thought almost made Heather come.  She felt juices running down the insides of her thighs.

Suddenly she felt something wet and rough lick her between her legs.  She screamed as she saw it was Pompey.  

Gabrielle laughed.  “Oh, look, our Pompey has found a bitch in heat!”

“It must be the smell of our slut,” Mitch added.

Heather had clamped her legs shut.  “Go away!” she hissed at the dog who was trying to lick her, again.  

“Well, it seems clear we have a real bitch, here,” Gabrielle said.  “Perhaps we need to show her to the world.” Gabrielle appeared to be thinking for a moment.  “We could put a microskirt on her with no panties and a thin shirt with no bra.  That way we’d be legal, but everyone could see what a slut we have.”

“And we’d have her on a leash?”

“Yes.”

Mitch pulled his foot away from Heather’s mouth.  “Let’s get ready!”

What frightened Heather was how good Pompey’s rough tongue had felt on her tender parts.