Date: Thu, 7 Apr 2005 10:04:39 +0100 (BST) From: WILL OBE Subject: OBEYING NATURE 15 The low doorway is so low we can only enter on all fours. Master Jim urges us on with repeated lashes from his strap, but doesn't follow. We hear the door being locked behind us. It's pitch black. Feeling with my hands I realise that we're in a brick built passageway less than four feet wide and four feet high. I'm following Henry and find my nose pressed up against his arse as those behind me push forward. "Get a move on Henry." "I can't see. I'm feeling my way forward." Slowly we crawl along. Up ahead a door slides open and we emerge into bright sunlight. Still the same brick built passageway, but without a roof. Henry attempts to stand up and is immediately felled with a man's fist on his neck. "Keep crawling you dogs." A Master's voice I've heard before. I see what I assume is the same hand grab Henry's hair and heave him forward until he stumbles and flounders into a long trough filled with water. A moment later and my hair's grabbed and I'm heaved forward into the trough too. I go under and come up, mouth full of water, retching and gasping for breath. It's not just water. Some sort of oily tasting disinfectant. I spit, wipe my eyes and follow Henry as he scrambles up steps into a large cobbled yard. It has a line of five wooden dog kennels along one wall and facing these are four stables with a horse in each. In the centre of the yard is a line of five head and wrist stocks. I lie on my stomach next to Henry, still retching. Christian, Terry and Gary join us, coughing and spluttering. I cry out in pain as the dildo is wrenched from my arsehole. I hear the others shouting out too. "Get up you dogs. On your hands and knees. Now." I scramble up and see the new Master giving orders. It's either Master Grant or his double. The same huge size and the same red hair. Wearing riding breeches, shiny brown riding boots and denim shirt with sleeves rolled up. He's waving a riding crop and applies it to our backsides irrespective as to whether we're on our hands and knees or not. "I'm Master Grant, Kennel Master. You are my dogs. Dogs don't speak. They obey orders. They eat like dogs. They piss and shit like dogs. And they behave at all times like dogs. Now, let me see you behave like dogs. Use your dog brains. Sniff each other. Lick faces. Lick arseholes. Lick each other's cocks." Master Grant encourages us with his riding crop. It stings like hell. I scamper to exchange face licks with Gary. I can see Christian sniffing and licking Gary's arse. Terry doing likewise to Henry who seems unsure of what to do. I twist around and grind my bottom into Henry's face until I can feel his tongue working on my hole. "Come on, move around dogs. You're a new pack, you're excited at making new doggy friends. Let me see those tongues working." Master Grant's crop drives us into a real frenzy of excitement as he whips our bodies. I'm jumping around licking any face, anus or cock within reach. Various tongues probe my arse, slurp my face and suck on my prick. There is no let up and we're kept at it being doggy friendly for all of thirty minutes. "Kneel and sit up straight like good dogs." Master Grant sounds as out of breath as we are. We kneel up and, following Gary's example, hold our hands in front of our heaving chests, our raging erections on view. Master Grant inspects us and grunts his satisfaction. "Now I want to see you piss properly." He attaches a leash to my collar and leads me on all fours to the nearest stocks. I know what's required and lift a leg against the post. My hard-on relaxes and I release a jet of piss over the post. It runs into a drain at the foot of the post. I'm thinking how well planned that is when Master Grant drags me away and I dribble piss across the cobbles as he leads me back. I sit up and witness the others being made to do the same and I have to accept their humiliation excites me. Especially when hunky Henry, red faced with embarrassment lifts his leg. He's so much bigger then the rest of us and because of this his pissing against the post is to me an even more humiliating act. As we kneel up and wait for Master Grant's next order a door at the end of the stable block opens and Master Eddie appears carrying a large circular dish. As he puts it down several feet in front of us I can see it's marked with the word 'dogs'. He spits into the dish and returns to the house. "Time for lunch doggies." Master Grant said. We are learning obedience and look to the Kennel Master for his permission. He nods and we all scramble forward. "Paws behind your backs dogs." There's hardly room for five hungry dogs and we jostle each other to lap up the slop. Eddie's dog food turns out to be little different to his schoolboy meals. It isn't improved when Master Grant pisses into it from above our heads. I glimpse a fantastic giant cock when I look up and I'm rewarded with a shower of his golden piss. "Don't look up here. Carry on eating you dogs." I notice the more fastidious Henry only pretends to eat. I lap it up more eagerly and decide the added ingredient has, for me, improved the flavour. For a moment I look at my fellow slaves lapping up dog food and piss and wonder what even our Masters would think of us now. Did they know this is what we would be reduced to? "Stop eating you disgusting animals." Master Grant starts using his crop and we retreat, as would cowering submissive bitches. Now he clips a length of chain to each of our collars, which is attached to one of the kennels. "Kneel in front of your kennel." We do as we're told. He points to a water trough behind the kennels. "Drink as much as you like. Piss against the post when you need to. If you piss in the kennels I'll not worry. If you shit in your kennel, I'll rub your nose in it. Now which of you dogs needs to shit?" Gary gives an imitation dog bark. Who taught him to do that? His Master Doug I suppose. Master Grant leashes him and walks him over to the drain at the foot of the post. Gary holds his knees, hunkers down and shits several turds. Nothing to wipe himself with. How silly I think, he's a dog. "Good dog. Now the rest of you know how it's done." Gary's walked back to his kennel, unleashed and refastened to the chain. Master Grant strides back to the house and we are left to sit and think. Or look at, but not speak to each other. It starts to drizzle. The others retreat into their kennels. I decide the gentle summer rain is an opportunity to have a shower and I kneel outside my kennel with the rain flowing down my body, my long hair matted to my head. Eventually, dripping wet, I crawl into my kennel, curl up and sleep. It's dark when I wake. I've no idea what time it is. The only sound is the pouring rain pattering on the kennel roof, which leaks in several places. I'm feeling cold, stiff and cramped. My past fantasies about being a Master's pet dog didn't envisage anything like this. This is hell! I'm on the verge of tears. Not from humiliation, but from frightening lonely misery. I'm less than a dog, I'm nothing. Is this how my Master wants me to feel? Quite probably, as part of my training. I'll be a better slave. The thought offers little comfort. I nod off to sleep again. There's no washing, shaving, enemas or showers in the morning. It's sunny and warm again and we kneel upright outside our kennels waiting for breakfast. Master Eddie emerges at last, but not with breakfast. He goes into the stables, saddles up three horses and brings them out just in time for Master Charles, Master Jim and Master Grant to mount them. Master Eddie unclips the chains from our collars. Master Grant waves for us to stand up and walk in front of him to a set of high gates at the end of the stables. Master Charles and Master Jim follow on their horses. Master Eddie opens the gates. Master Grant cracks his riding whip, spurs his horse forward and bears down on us. We start running down a track leading into a field of long grass. It's slippery running on the wet grass, but at least it's kind to me bare feet. The dog pack splits up as we run across the field. So do our Masters as they come after us whipping our backs and buttocks. I'm gasping for breath and almost on my knees when Master Grant looms over me. I turn and stumble forward. He follows slowly on his horse and whips my naked arse. I trip over and sprawl in the grass. Master Grant dismounts and walks over to me. I crawl towards him and throw my arms around his shiny riding boots and kiss them. "Service my cock you dog." I look up at a monster penis rather like my Master's, but surrounded with red hair protruding from his breeches. I scramble up and take it into my mouth. It smells and tastes wonderful. I choke on it happily as he rams it in and out of my mouth. I rap my arms around him and pull his firm arse cheeks towards me. This is worth the night of misery in the kennel. The sudden thought that he chose me to suck him rather than any of the others inspires me to work my mouth harder. He grips the back of my head with his hands and his thrusts become angry. With two shouted guttural bellows he starts to shoot his creamy cum into my mouth. I gobble and swallow, anxious not to lose a drop. He's my Master. I must please him. I carry on sucking his still throbbing tool. He pulls it out and I see it hanging down in front of my face. I lick it. "What do you say slave?" He invites me to speak. "Thank you Master." "Is that all you have to say?" "No Sir, I er... I love you Master." "Good dog. Nice to know our training's not been wasted. Perhaps you need a drink?" "Please Master. Please let me drink your piss." A special pleading, which I hope, he will detect in my voice. He holds his cock and starts to piss. I open my mouth and he aims a stream of his body waste into my mouth. I swallow and swallow and swallow. He directs his piss into my hair, down my back, down my chest and onto my erect prick and again into my mouth. When he's spent, he zips up, mounts his horse and it trots off. I'm left kneeling naked in the middle of a hay field dripping with another man's piss. And I feel fulfilled. Later, still unwashed, we scrabble together, hungrily lapping up more of Master Eddie's gruel from the dog dish in the middle of the yard. Only Master Jim is there to watch us. A satisfied smile on his face. His dogslaves are behaving like dogslaves. He takes each of us in turn and fastens our head and wrists into each of the five sets of stocks. He gives us one of his grim smiles and walks behind us. A line of five naked bottoms waiting for treatment. This must be Master Jim's favourite pastime. A pocket Napoleon with five slaves, all bigger men than himself, totally at his mercy. I hear Gary, who is next to me, being thrashed with the belt and him responding with yelps of pain. Master Jim kicks my legs apart, slides a hand over my arse and then yanks down hard on my hanging scrotum. My shout of pain turns into a continuous stream of moans and whimpers as I skip frantically around on my feet trying unsuccessfully to avoid the blows as he thrashes my tender bottom for what seems never-ending time. As always I close my eyes and the pain recedes as I fantasise about being in a town square exposed stark naked to the crowds witnessing my punishment. At last Master Jim moves on and without mercy thrashes the remaining three slaves. The screaming stops and I open my eyes. Master Jim stands in front of us, gloating at his slaves and their tear stained faces. "Am I your Master?" he yells. "Yes Master." We shout out in unison. "Are you my slaves?" "Yes Master." "Are you slaves to all Masters?" "Yes Master." "Excellent. Remember that without fail." "Yes Master." Master Jim turns on his booted heel and marches into the house. We're left hanging in our individual stocks, the sun beating down on us and the flies tormenting our stinking bodies, pissing unashamedly when we have to. Mid afternoon and Master Eddie arrives. I can see him taking his time molesting the other slaves. When he reaches me he presses his fleshy lips to my mouth and forces his evil smelling yellowish tongue down my throat. As he does so, he twists my nipples, fondles my prick and balls, and inserts a finger into my anus. As a Master he has this right. But, perhaps for the first time, I fully accept he has this right. It's my duty not to resist him. I spread my legs willingly so he can finger fuck me. I suck on his tongue as I would that of my Master Mark. I feel proud knowing I am truly an obedient slave at last. Even to this obnoxious ugly man. He presents his finger to my mouth. I suck it clean. Master Eddie smiles and I glimpse a mouthful of blackened teeth. If this chapter has particularly interested you, please let Will Obe know - will.obe@btinternet.com Will Obe (c) Copyright