Date: Sun, 4 Jun 2023 10:22:38 +0200
From: Lacey Kinks <laceyk@petlover.com>
Subject: A Tale of Three Bitches, Part 2 - Bella

A TALE OF THREE BITCHES: PART 2 - BELLA

A story by Lacey Kinks (laceyk@petlover.com)



[Author's note: Please DON'T read this story if you're offended by sex
involving animals or minors. This tale is a work of pure fiction and is
not intended to endorse or promote any of the practices it depicts. But
please DO find a way to support this wonderful website. You can do that
at https://donate.nifty.org .]

************************

A lot of men from Peter's village were making a mistake when they got on
the boat. But it was Peter who made the biggest mistake of all.

The vessel was supposed to take them to a much wealthier country, where
the men would have the opportunity to work and earn money they could send
back to their families. And that was true ... as far as the destination
and the work was concerned.

But what they didn't know was that they would be stuck in a meat
processing plant, far from any population centre, living in what was
effectively a slave labour camp. As illegal immigrants, and with no means
of communication, they would have neither rights nor any practical way of
freeing themselves.

As for money, they would certainly be paid - but a figure far below the
minimum wage. And most of it would be consumed by the charge levied for
their food and accommodation, with the remainder to be frittered away on
alcohol, tobacco or other vices.

All that would keep them working would be a promise that after three
years they would be given papers and allowed to seek work elsewhere. A
promise which might or might not be kept.

What made Peter's mistake far worse, however, was that he should never
have been aboard in the first place. At the age of twelve, slight of
build, he had no capacity for manual labour. It was unclear what he
thought might happen if (or more realistically when) he was caught
stowing away. He certainly didn't foresee the personal hell into which
his discovery would consign him.

What he couldn't have known was that for a variety of reasons - some
linked to the ship's illicit work, others just bad luck or bad timing -
the ship's all-male crew were onto their sixth straight voyage without
any proper shore leave. Denied any opportunity for months to see wives,
girlfriends or regular whores, the arrival of an undeniably pretty boy
seemed like manna from heaven.

It took less than forty-eight hours for the first rape to occur. And soon
enough he was being used by groups of two, three or four crew members at
a time.

When the captain found out about what was going on, he put an immediate
stop to the assaults. The boy was transferred to his own bed, then loaned
out only to anyone - crew or passenger - who was prepared to pay for his
services.

And so Bella, as the stowaway was rechristened to popular acclaim, became
the ship's whore. And when the voyage was over and the villagers were
transferred to the camp that would become their prison for the indefinite
future, he went with them and continued his work. Only now it was the
camp's supervisor who was pimping him out.

The boy's initial reaction to this fate was understandably one of fear
and panic. But a lack of physical courage, combined with a sense of
self-preservation, led him to the belief that resistance was futile. If
he fought back, he would still be raped, but probably hurt as well, maybe
even mutilated. So he resolved to tolerate his treatment as best he
could.

He was no actor, so he did not even pretend to enjoy what was being done
to him. But he did become adept at using his mouth or his hands or the
muscles in his abused and stretched ass to bring his violators to a
quicker release than they might otherwise have done. Sometimes, that just
meant another man taking their place more quickly. But a happier customer
(or owner) was less likely to beat him. And he learnt to retreat into
himself and ignore the filthy and demeaning things they said about him,
even when he could understand them.

Of course, being so cooperative and efficient also made him more valuable
to his captors, and reduced any chance they might have mercy upon him and
release him from his sexual servitude. But even if he realised that, what
real choice did he have?

His status was cemented, after he reached the camp, by being forced to
dress as a girl. One of the camp's cooks, herself an illegal immigrant,
was deputed to teach him how to put on makeup. He was even given cheap
jewellery and perfume to wear. And the camp's doctor was instructed to
dose him with oestrogen, to prevent him from going through puberty.
Within a year, he had started to develop small but noticeable breasts and
his already small cock and balls had shrunken appreciably.

Life at the camp was not as taxing for Bella, as he was universally now
known, as it had been on board. Unlike the captain, the supervisor had no
personal interest in the child whore. He liked his women "big and
bouncy," he said. The words meant nothing to Bella, but he understood
and appreciated the man's indifference.

Nor were there anywhere near the same number of customers for his
services. Most of the imported workers couldn't afford him, aside from a
few who had profited from gambling. Many of the local residents who flew
or drove into the region to spend four-week blocks administering,
feeding, maintaining or guarding the camp had partners back home to whom
they preferred to remain faithful. And of those who wanted sex, not all
were willing to settle for a boy, even one as attractive and enticing as
Bella. Some also baulked at his age, although he looked older than he
was, especially with makeup on.

He was still raped every now and again, but in a close-knit community the
offenders were generally caught and punished - not according to law, but
in painful ways that had a far greater deterrent effect than any threat
of imprisonment. Most were effectively in prison already.

Bella's main work now was performed in the camp's kitchen. It was only
a few times each week that he was required to perform sexual services.

His travails had left him not broken, so much as lost within himself. He
was dutiful and obedient, whether in the canteen or the bedroom. But he
spoke (and then haltingly) only when spoken to and had no friends or
hobbies. When not at work or asleep, he sat and dreamed of life back in
his village - the life he had been so keen to escape, but which now
seemed like paradise compared to the one he was being forced to endure.

But then everything changed. And changed because what should have been
his greatest humiliation became something else entirely.

It came about when the supervisor, happy with the processing plant's
productivity and the bonus he had just received, decided to organise a
show to "reward" the workforce. Most of the audience still had to pay
for the privilege of attending, but a number of the imported workers won
the right through a lottery to see it for free.

A group of strippers were flown in to perform - and Bella was told to
join them on the makeshift stage that was rigged up in the canteen. He
was given one of their spare outfits to wear: a see-through top that did
nothing to conceal his budding breasts, a short pink skirt, fishnet
tights, and ankle boots with preposterously high platform heels.

He did his best to emulate what the women were doing, gyrating as best he
could to the loud and unfamiliar music and trying desperately not to
topple over. But then the nature of the show changed. While the others
paired off and started having sex with one other, to the raucous cheers
of the crowd, Bella found himself with the remaining stripper, a
youngish-looking woman with long red hair.

Bella had only ever licked one other pussy. That belonged to the cook who
had helped him with makeup, as a thank you that was really more for the
benefit of the watching supervisor than any personal desire. But he did
his best now to pleasure the redhead with his tongue, eventually
eliciting an orgasm that might have been real or faked - Bella had no way
of telling.

The girl endeavoured to return the favour. But her efforts could coax no
response out of Bella's cocklet.

Bella could remember a time when Peter had liked girls. But all thought
of sexual attraction had disappeared, stripped away by the many times he
had been violated and, latterly, the hormone treatment. He occasionally
woke up to find a sticky discharge. But if he was having wet dreams, they
were not ones he could recall. And he never played with himself, other
than at the insistence of a client; and that very compulsion was enough
to ensure a complete lack of arousal, as it did now.

One of the other strippers had brought a python, whose tail she fed into
her pussy and used to help her masturbate. At the suggestion of someone
in the audience, she did the same to Bella's asshole, and also
encouraged the snake's tongue to flicker over his shrivelled cock.

But if they were hoping to get a reaction out of the thirteen-year-old,
they were disappointed. Bella knew enough about snakes to realise that
this one was not venomous, and nor would it be put to use in a show of
this kind if it were at all dangerous.

"I reckon my Vig could make Bella squeal," called out Mullins, one of
the guards. "Saw him fucking a stray earlier, reckon he could take good
care of our little girl!"

This proved to be a popular suggestion and Mullins was urged to go and
get his dog, a Doberman who travelled with him whenever he made the long
drive to work at the camp. Vig wasn't a guard dog as such, though the
ferocity of his breed and the volume of his bark certainly helped keep
order. He was in fact a sweet-natured animal.

Many of the audience thought that the idea of having Bella perform with
Vig had just been a joke. But Vig was not without experience. Mullins, a
domineering man, had previously persuaded a couple of girlfriends to try
having sex with his pet. Vig had appreciated it, but they had not, and
the relationships had ended on the spot. But Mullins, who had very much
enjoyed those shows, saw now an opportunity for some more canine fun.

When Vig was led up onto the stage and Bella was told to get down on his
hands and knees and flip up his skirt, he didn't feel surprised, just
resigned. He didn't even feel alarmed or disgusted when, as Mullins
rubbed his pet to get him ready, he saw the dog's dick emerge from its
sheath. Maybe he hadn't seen an uglier phallus, but he'd certainly
encountered bigger ones. And whatever else the dog might do to him, it
didn't seem as scary as some of the men who'd raped him over the past
year.

As for disgust, that reflex had been suppressed to the point where it no
longer existed. Bella knew and accepted that he was a fucktoy for men.
How much worse could a dog be?

It turned out not to be worse, but different. The frantic stabbing was
something new, as Vig tried to locate Bella's asshole and then drove
himself at high speed into the boy once he had found his target. So too
was the heat Bella felt both inside and from the furry body clamped on
top of him.

But the knot was something else.

Bella was used by now to being penetrated, and not just by cocks. The men
who had used him often seemed to think it was funny to test out just what
else he could take up his ass. Bottles and pool cues in particular had
proved popular items for insertion.

But the knot in Vig's dick that swelled up inside Bella, as the Doberman
pumped what felt like gallons of canine cum into him, was like nothing
he'd ever felt before. It was painful, to the point where he almost
started to panic about his back passage rupturing from the strain. And
yet there was something else too, a kind of pleasurable pressure. He felt
his cocklet twitch in a way it hadn't done since he'd boarded the boat.

Any further thought about how it felt to have Vig inside him was driven
away when Mullins, not content to wait for the doggie dick to deflate,
insisted on pulling it out. That elicited a rare gasp of pain from Bella
- and a whoop of delight from the audience as a fountain of thin white
fluid exploded from the young whore's puckered asshole.

Bella was caught by surprise again when Vig returned to clean up his
mess, his large tongue flashing as he sought to lick up the escaping
cream. Once again, the sensation was surprisingly pleasant.

The strippers were asked if any of them wanted to take Bella's place and
be serviced by Vig, but refused. Sensing that the mood of the crowd was
turning against them, they donned strapons, lined up and called Bella to
stand at the front with his legs splayed. The girl behind slid her dildo
into an asshole from which Vig's creamy gift was still dripping. When
those next in line had followed suit, the chain was complete, with every
shaft buried inside an asshole.

The audience started chanting as the strippers, thrusting in unison,
gradually began fucking one another. As the music reached a climax, so
too did the women, their dildos spraying out large quantities of fake
spunk, which fountained out of their asses -and Bella's - when the
shafts were withdrawn. The cheers that greeted this were deafening.

Bella's performance at the show had some predictable consequences. For
the next few days he was followed by woofs and growls wherever he went,
bowls of food and water were set on the floor for him, and he was
constantly being asked when the puppies would be born.

But there was also someone else who remembered what he had done. Whenever
Vig was off the leash, he would seek out Bella and nuzzle him
affectionately. If anyone nearby showed the slightest sign of aggression
towards the young boy, even just verbally, he would bare his teeth and
growl.

Bella was astonished at these displays - and grateful. None of the many
men who had fucked him over the past year had ever shown the slightest
consideration for him, beyond empty words about how pretty he was. Yet
here was a dog who wanted to protect and defend him.

He took to saving up little treats for Vig and found every opportunity he
could to spend time with the Doberman - at least when he could be sure
Mullins was safely occupied elsewhere.

One day, just a few weeks after the show, Bella found Vig chained up
outside the hut in which Mullins slept. When he went to pat the dog,
Vig's behaviour was different. He insisted on sniffing at Bella's
bottom, making little noises in the back of his throat. As Bella rubbed
and patted Vig's flanks, he couldn't help but notice that the beast's
dick was hard. The noises became more urgent.

Bella looked around to ensure nobody was in sight, then unclipped Vig's
leash and led him away to a nearby storeroom, which he knew was currently
empty. Inside the dark and windowless room, lit only by the sunlight that
leaked past the edges of the door, he hesitated for a moment, then
stripped off his clothes, laid them out so he would have something to
kneel on, then got down on the floor.

With a joyful yelp, Vig mounted the boy. As he found his mark and began
to piston his cock in and out, it occurred to Bella that this was the
first time in his short life that he had truly chosen to have sex, rather
than being compelled or having reluctantly agreed.

The Doberman had plainly instigated the encounter, it was true. But Bella
could have walked away; this time at least, there would have been no
punishment if he had declined. He realised with a thrill that he actually
wanted the dog to fuck him, that his only reluctance lay in a fear of
being caught, not a lack of desire.

And with that realisation came the most unfamiliar sensation of all:
enjoyment.

As Vig's knot grew and his discharge filled Bella's cavity, his little
cock grew hard and he started to rub it, the way that Peter used to do
when thinking about some of the girls of the village, or even his older
sister. Well, especially his sister.

But Bella wasn't thinking about Ada now. He was relishing the heat and
thickness and liquid inside him, the heaviness of the body on his back,
even the sharp bite of the claws that periodically extended from the paws
that clutched his chest. He was stroking his erection and simultaneously
thinking about the one inside him. He was feeling the pressure rise
inside him. He was -

"What. The. Fuck?"

The voice behind him drove all thought of release from Bella's head. His
little phallus shrank to its normal state in an instant, almost like a
burst balloon, as he frantically tried to turn around to see the
intruder. But hampered by his tie to the dog still knotted inside him,
the best he could do was to look over his shoulder.

Mullins' face showed a mixture of anger and incredulity. He took a step
forward, but then halted, his hands rising in a placatory gesture, as Vig
let out a threatening growl.

"Whoa boy," he called, "take it easy, okay?"

His face split into a feral grin. "You his bitch now, is that it?" The
question was directed to Bella, but the boy clearly didn't understand.
The guard tried again. "You belong to him?" He pointed at the Doberman.

Bella hesitated, then nodded. The guard gave a harsh laugh. "Okay then.
Just clean up when you're finished." He pointed to the splashes of
doggie spunk that had escaped from Bella's butt before the knot had
sealed it off. "With your tongue, got it?" He made a pantomime of
licking.

Bella showed his acquiescence, his face frozen into a fearful expression.
Only after Mullins had exited the storeroom did it finally relax, to be
replaced by a look of utter consternation.

It took quite some time to untie. Bella didn't want to risk damaging his
anus by pulling himself free and he figured, correctly, that the knot
would eventually shrink of its own accord. But even after his experience
at the show, he still wasn't ready for the cascade of cum that Vig's
withdrawal prompted.

By the time Bella had licked up and swallowed any spunk that had not
soaked into his discarded clothes, Vig was ready to go again. With the
fear that the dog's owner might return, Bella could not get the same
enjoyment that the previous fucking had provided. But he allowed himself
to be mounted all the same; and this time he was ready for the flow,
staunching it with a pair of now thoroughly soaked panties.

Returning to his hut in clothes either stained or sodden with canine cum
was a nerve-wracking experience, even for someone used to shame and
humiliation. He was also worried about what Mullins might say or do.

To his surprise, however, he didn't see the guard until late the
following day. Mullins approached Bella at the end of his kitchen shift,
accompanied by Vig, who greeted him enthusiastically and gave him the now
familiar nuzzles.

"So, Bella ..." Mullins drew out the pause, then with just a hint of a
smile went on. "I'm looking for a new pet. You up for it?"

When the question drew no response, he rolled his eyes and tried again.
"You want to come home with me? Live with him?" He jerked his thumb at
the Doberman.

Bella's perplexed look turned into a disbelieving stare.

Mullins, somewhat uncharacteristically, had been doing some thinking. He
was tired of the long drive to and from the camp, and the work wasn't
that interesting, even if the pay was good. It might have been different
if the migrant workers had shown some fight or displayed more interest in
the kind of vices the guard favoured. But as it was, and the recent
stripper show aside, there was precious little to get excited about.

Now, with Bella's willingness to be Vig's bitch, and his cherished
companion's unexpected bond with the boy, he saw a glimpse of a
different future. So he went to see the supervisor, said that he wanted
to resign and offered to forego the money he would be owed if he could
take Bella with him.

If anyone else had offered to buy his prize whore, the supervisor would
have told him where to go. But he was wary of Mullins, who if not
personally that threatening, had some very dangerous friends. And after
that ridiculous and disgusting performance with the dog, Bellla might
have lost some potential customers.

So eventually he agreed to the sale, on condition that Mullins keep up
Bella's hormone treatment and, if he tired of the boy, bring him back to
the camp.

The question now was what Bella would say. Not that his answer mattered
that much. He was going whether he liked it or not. But to avoid any
argument with Vig, Mullins hoped Bella would come of his own accord.
Which, after a moment's thought, and a glance down at the eager
Doberman, the boy agreed to do.

And so began Bella's new life as a pet.

He took only the clothes on his back when he left the camp, hidden under
a blanket in the back of Mullins' truck. And the guard burned those as
soon as they arrived at their destination, a shack on the edge of a small
rural town that had seen better days.

He gave Bella nothing to wear instead, aside from a dog collar that he
fastened and locked around the boy's neck. Bella had blankets to keep
him warm at night; otherwise he was left naked.

His food was served in bowls on the floor, which he was expected to eat
out of without his hands. There was no toilet for him to use. As with
Vig, he had to go outside in the untended and overgrown patch of ground
which passed for a garden, and which happily could not be seen from the
road or neighbouring houses. That was also where he could exercise,
though only during the day; he was chained up at nights. Once a week he
was hosed down and scrubbed clean, just as the Doberman was.

Bella was also forbidden to speak or communicate in any way other than
through barks or whines. Any breach of that or any of his owner's other
rules would earn him a painful spanking with a paddle - though only ever
when Vig was safely chained up somewhere else.

It should have been a horrible way to live. But Bella was more than happy
to put up with it.

Part of that was simply the amount of peace he now enjoyed, especially
when Mullins was busy with his new job at a nearby drug laboratory. Not
having to put up with the more or less constant harassment and abuse
Bella had experienced at the camp, or the need to service men who at best
he didn't like, and at worst loathed, was a boon. So too - although he
didn't know about it - was the heavy dose of antidepressants Mullins was
feeding him, along with the hormones. The guard had picked up that tip
from an online chat group on how to keep your human pet docile and happy.

But best of all, Bella got to hang with Vig - and get fucked by him
whenever the Doberman wanted. Sometimes the dog would go lengthy periods
without desiring sex. But there would also be days in which he'd claim
his prize four or five times, leaving Bella's asshole gaping and cum
oozing out far into the night.

There were days on which Bella would not respond to being penetrated and
knotted, but others on which he would come and come, until his meagre
store of sperm was exhausted, and his orgasms were entirely dry. But
either way, he enjoyed it. Vig's pleasure could be enough for Bella. In
that respect, he had become a true bitch.

He experimented a little with positions and even took to pleasuring the
Doberman with his mouth, especially if he had already been taken a few
times and was feeling particularly sore. But nothing could beat the
feeling of being crouched down and having the dog on top of and inside
him - unless it was the delicious sensation of Vig's tongue as he
cleaned up the tribute he had left for the boy.

When he wasn't being fucked, Bella would just nuzzle Vig, or gambol
around with him, or lie down next to him, enjoying the dog's warmth and
- if Mullins was out - softly singing songs in his native tongue.

As for Mullins, he too was enjoying the arrangement. He especially liked
watching, editing and then selling the recordings he was making of Vig
and Bella mating, captured by cameras he'd positioned around the house
and garden.

He'd even thought of taking Bella to a human pet show to put the boy on
display, or of inviting other owners to bring their pets round to breed
with either him or the Doberman. But the former would be worthwhile only
if he put time into training Bella, which he was too lazy to do. And as
for the latter, he was concerned about how Vig might react if he picked
up that someone else was fucking his bitch, or indeed if offered new
bitches of his own. The bond between the two pets was a powerful one,
anyone could see that.

Eventually, however, something unexpected happened to break up a living
arrangement that was suiting all three of them. Mullins fell in love.

He met Sara at the drug lab, which she visited from time to time when
delivering supplies and taking away the finished product. She was big,
powerful and mean - except with him. What started as idle chats every few
days became coffee breaks together and then, somehow, a romance. She was
the first woman he'd met who was not just a physical match for him, but
willing and able to boss him - including in bed.

But she hated dogs.

For a long time, that was a line in the sand that Mullins wasn't able to
cross. But eventually Sara wore him down, until he promised to get rid of
his pets so that they could live together. He neglected to mention that
one of the pets was human - and a fourteen-year-old boy at that. He
figured she might not understand that particular relationship.

He should by rights have taken Bella back to the camp, only he wanted if
possible to do the right thing by Vig. So he posted a question on an
online forum as to whether anyone wanted to buy a Doberman and his human
bitch. He figured it might be taken as some kind of joke. But the offer
he got a day or so later from an organisation he'd never heard of seemed
completely serious. As was the amount of money that simultaneously
appeared in his bank account, by way of a deposit.

More than a little spooked by the buyer's ability to know the details of
his account without even asking, he agreed to the sale. Within a day, two
men had arrived at the shack to sedate Vig and Bella, then transport them
to their new home. Mullins had time to do little more than pat the
Doberman, tell him what a good dog he was, then get him excited so he
could give his bitch one last fucking while his owner watched. They were
still knotted when their new owners arrived.

Afterwards, Mullins cried for a while. Then he settled in for a beer or
three and a nice wank while he watched the recording of his pets' final
coupling.

For Bella, the transition from the rough surrounds of the shack to the
gleaming facility that would be his new home was not quite as wrenching
as it might have been. He spent several days drifting in and out of
consciousness, dimly aware that things were being done to him. And when
he did finally awake, full consciousness seeped back only in fits and
starts.

He knew at first only that he was in a cage with another dog - though not
Vig, nor another male, he was sure of that. This one had a different
smell, a female smell. It didn't immediately occur to him to wonder how
exactly he knew that. By the time he started thinking about his enhanced
capacity to identify scents, he had already become used to it.

The other dog turned out to look remarkably like a human woman, a lot
older than Bella, with large breasts that periodically leaked milk. Not a
dog, thought Bella, a bitch. A collar around the bitch's neck bore the
name Jenni.

She had braces on her knees and elbows that protected them but also
prevented her from straightening her limbs. Coupled with the low height
of the cage, they encouraged movement on all fours, rather than standing
up. Her hands were balled into fists and covered with paw-shaped gloves,
giving her no use of her digits. Out of her mouth, which was held open by
some sort of gag, spilled a tongue that was far larger than it should
have been.

Again, it took a while for Bella to register that he was in the same
state as Jenni. His tongue was the thing that felt strangest. He could
move it easily enough and, if necessary, coil it back into his mouth. It
was also quite adept at lapping up water from the bowl in the corner of
the cage. But he could no longer use it to shape any sounds and it seemed
easiest to just let it loll out of his mouth, like Jenni's.

His new tongue did though have one other use. When Jenni whined, turned
around and pointed her bare bottom at Bella, he caught wind of a smell
that drew him in like a magnet. Uncertainly at first, and then with
greater confidence, he pushed his head between the other bitch's splayed
buttocks and began using his swollen tongue to lap at Jenni's slit.
Ignoring the short, bristly hair that suggested a recently abandoned
shaving routine, he concentrated on the sweet tasting juice that was
oozing from Jenni's pussy.

The more Bella licked, the more juice he elicited, until Jenni shuddered
and came, thrusting her butt back into Bella's face. The newly awakened
bitch felt a wetness between his own legs. But when he looked down,
thinking that he must have pissed himself, he found that his little cock
and balls were missing. Instead, in the middle of a patch where his pubic
hair had been shaved off and was only just starting to regrow, there was
only a tiny slit, almost as if his glans had been pushed back inside him
so that only the top was showing.

A white fluid was oozing from it, and before he could reflect any further
on that, he found himself turned around, with Jenni's face now between
his thighs and her tongue working as busily as Bella's had done. But
when she reached the slit, Bella nearly leapt in the air, so sensitive
was it. He backed away and turned to face the other bitch, grunting and
whining in an effort to convey the message that he didn't want to be
touched there. Or not yet, at any event.

After a while, Jenni seemed to get the message and instead licked
Bella's face, a gesture that the young bitch reciprocated. He looked
down at the little beads of milk that were seeping out of Jenni's
nipples and just for a moment wanted to lick them up. But he had the
feeling they were not for him.

And so Bella settled into his new life. The cage occupied the entirety of
a large, airy room, lit by high windows and with a temperature that was
warm enough during the day not to require clothes. There were boxes to
clamber over, tubes to crawl through, and little blanket-lined hollows in
which to curl up and sleep either alone or, as became more common over
time, together with Jenni.

Twice a day, a door opened, and by crawling along a passageway they could
reach an enclosed, tree-lined garden where it was possible to run around
and play. When it was too cold or wet, there were kennels in which to
shelter. While they were outside, their cage was cleaned out, and food
and fresh water was put out in bowls.

They never saw any humans, nor for the first few weeks any dogs. But
eventually there came a day when a different door opened in their cage.

About once a week, Jenni had been developing the scent that had so
enticed Bella on his first day awake. Whenever he smelled it, he would
enthusiastically lick Jenni to orgasm. Jenni had that scent again now,
far more strongly than before. But instead of looking for Bella she
headed excitedly for the new door, urging Bella to follow her. She led
the younger bitch into a room with what seemed like a maze of caged
passageways.

There were green lights above two of the passages. Jenni went into one of
them and motioned Bella to take the other. As they went through, gates
closed behind them. Ahead, they each found an open area with a low,
curiously shaped bench, surrounded by four sockets. Copying Jenni, Bella
draped himself over the bench and put one paw in each socket. As he did,
bands snapped tight around his wrists and ankles, so that he was held
tight, legs slightly splayed and tail in the air.

Bella couldn't help smiling to himself. He didn't need the pungent
aroma he was now himself emitting to tell him what was going to happen
next. Behind them, the open space in front of the entrance to the
passageways was suddenly full of yapping and barking as a pack of male
dogs entered the room.

Bella could neither see Vig nor pick up his scent. That was
disappointing. But as a bitch, he knew it wasn't his place to be picky.
He waited with interest to see who would claim him next ...



[To be continued. Hope you enjoyed the story! Please send any feedback to
me at laceyk@petlover.com.]