Date: Fri, 29 Dec 2023 14:59:43 +0100
From: Lacey Kinks <laceyk@petlover.com>
Subject: A Tale of Three Bitches: Part 3 - Misty (Bestiality)

A TALE OF THREE BITCHES: PART 3 - MISTY

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 .]

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

Claire had been terrified when her training started. But she was just as
scared when she realised it might be nearing an end. She really, really,
really did not want to be a ponygirl!

The first thirteen years of her life had been as comfortable as it was
possible to be. Her family's wealth delivered all the clothes, hobbies,
holiday designations and friends that she could possibly want. She spent
summer at the best beaches, winter skiing, and had a whole stable of
horses from which to choose if she wanted to ride.

And if she acted like a spoiled brat, not to say a bully at times, there
was absolutely nobody to call her out.

Her parents were too self-absorbed to notice; and everyone else was too
scared of her father and the organisation for which he worked. Even those
who didn't know what it was picked up enough bad vibes to avoid any
dealings with Claire's father - or the silent, intimidating men in suits
who ferried her to and from school and were never too far away whenever
she went out.

There had only been one time when she could recall anything bad occurring
around her. When she was six, some friends of her father had arrived to
take her away for an unexpected holiday. A mix-up, her father called it
later.

She couldn't remember anything that had actually happened while she was
away, so presumably it had been pretty boring. But for weeks afterwards
her mother would scarcely leave her alone and her father seemed
permanently furious with everyone except Claire. And all the household
staff had changed, which was really irritating because it took weeks for
the new ones to learn how to look after the demanding girl.

Soon enough, however. Claire's life settled back into the comfortable
rhythms to which she had become accustomed ... until, one day, it all
changed. A brief but bloody power struggle in the underworld resulted in
her father losing his breathing privileges, his trophy wife being sent
overseas to work as a sex slave ... and a big argument about what to do
with his daughter.

Claire had blossomed into a pretty young woman, tall and willowy, with
flowing red hair that fell nearly to her waist. She also had surprisingly
well developed breasts which were entirely natural, contrary to some of
the suggestions snidely but very quietly advanced by her classmates
outside her hearing.

There was no shortage of men in the winning faction clamouring to have
her for their own use. Others wanted to see her put to work making porn -
preferably doing something as degrading as possible.

In the end, however, the suggestion that gained most support was that she
and her friend Melanie, who'd been unlucky enough to be with her when
Claire was seized, should be sent to Mistress Electra.

The Mistress, a handsome woman in her early fifties, ran a highly
specialised but lucrative operation. Her task was to train young women
and men to walk, trot, prance and gallop like ponies. Once sold, they
might be put into harness and forced to pull carts around. Or compete in
equestrian-like trials. Or be fucktoys for their master or mistress.
Often, it was all three.

Some voluntarily entered her program. Of those, only a small minority
made it to auction. Most found the regimen too physically or mentally
demanding, or simply realised that life as a pony was not what they had
imagined it to be. But there were also those who came to her unwillingly,
and those were the ones who received her personal attention. Her record
with these candidates was unblemished: all were successfully trained.

Since her own sexual tastes ran to pretty young girls, she took a special
interest in Claire and Melanie - though she was under strict instructions
that the former was to remain a virgin, at least until sold.

The frightened thirteen-year-olds' initiation started with being stripped
of their clothing - permanently, they were told - and chained to a wall
in a dark cell, where for two weeks they were starved and denied regular
sleep. Any attempt to speak brought a painful blast of ice-cold water.

In the third week, they were told that they could earn certain privileges
(food, sleep, a release from their chains) if they showed a sufficient
level of obedience. That involved repeating certain mantras they'd
already been hearing over and over amidst the cacophony of noise helping
to keep them awake. They had to recite that they were ponies, that they
lived to serve, that good ponies do what they are told, and so on. And
they started being taught to react in specified ways to particular
signals or sounds, such as different whistle tones that caused them to
turn one way or another, or to stand still.

Some trainers believed in using drugs to make their potential pets docile
and compliant, others in threatening violence. But Electra favoured a
combination of disorientation to make her trainees more receptive to
re-education, plus conditioning them to associate obedience with the
provision of basic necessities.

Melanie cooperated more or less immediately, though it took several weeks
of practice before she was reflexively responding to commands without
needing to think about it. Claire resisted for the best part of another
two weeks. When she finally started repeating her lessons and earning
desperately-needed food and rest, she could hardly tell dream from
reality - and as a result she was even more susceptible to the messages
being pounded into her brain.

Once released from the cell and cleansed of her own filth, it was time
for Claire to be put into harness.

She was clad in a black leather outfit that, while elaborate, left
nothing to the imagination. Anchored by a torso plate, straps wound
around her body, not hiding but encircling and accentuating her breasts
and buttocks. When her arms were not encased in sleeves and pinned behind
her back, she wore hoof-like gloves that allowed no use of her hands.
Thigh-high boots likewise ended in high, hoof-shaped heels that forced
her to stand on tiptoes.

On her head, she wore an elaborate, plumed headpiece, with her long hair
pulled back. Most of the time she also wore a silicone bit gag, which not
only prevented her from talking, but helped induce the kind of drooling
that emphasised her lack of control.

Last but not least, she wore a swishy tail, affixed to a butt plug
slipped inside her tight little asshole. The plug was small, but Mistress
Electra explained that she would progressively be given bigger ones, so
that ultimately she could take a stallion's cock. "And I don't mean a
well hung man either!" she said jovially, laughing all the harder at the
shock and disgust that Claire had not fully learnt yet to keep out of her
expression.

If Claire didn't like her outfit, Mistress said, there was always what
she called "the simpler alternative." She showed Claire another trainee,
a slightly older girl who was completely naked and whose harness
consisted solely of silver chains affixed directly to the rings that
studded her body - through her ears, eyebrows, nose, tongue, nipples,
navel, and cunt lips.

Claire didn't know whether the older girl had chosen or been forced to
accept the piercings. But when Mistress tugged hard on the girl's
chains, the whimpers told Claire all she needed to know about how it
would feel to be led around that way. She was careful not to show any
kind of dissent about her harness.

She was also given a new name - Misty. That was all she would be called
from now on, the young redhead was told. To reinforce the point, the name
was tattooed in large letters across the top of both her breasts and
buttocks.

The trainee ponies greatly outnumbered Mistress Electra and her staff.
But the latter each carried wands that could deliver painful electric
shocks. And besides, even if the trainees were to get away, during the
relatively brief periods when they were not chained up, how would they go
anywhere? They were being held without clothes in a compound surrounded
by an electrified fence, somewhere deep in the countryside and far from
any road, let alone habitations.

The power of their conditioning was in any event sufficient before long
to strip away all sense of autonomy or independent will. They came to
respond on cue to every command, including to stay exactly where they
were if left unsupervised. And that conditioning extended to their sexual
urges as well.

Despite the opportunities her wealth and a lack of parental supervision
might have afforded, Claire had had virtually no kind of sexual
experiences before being abducted. She was actually quite prudish, and
had even felt dirty and ashamed about the idea of masturbating.

As Misty, all that changed at the training camp. She quickly discovered
that while responding properly to commands and learning to move like a
pony was necessary to get basics such as food and water, the way to get
special treats such as chocolate was to satisfy the staff. And that meant
learning how to give blowjobs to the male trainers and to lick the
pussies of their female colleagues, whenever they wanted it - which, in
the case of Mistress Electra in particular, was often.

Despite her initial revulsion, over the months Misty did not just grow
used to exploring the older woman's cunt with her tongue, to tasting her
Mistress' sweet juices as she lapped at the engorged clitoris, and to
feeling the spasming as her trainer's mound was ground against her busy
mouth. She started to enjoy it.

Partly that was because the young girl had become quite fixated on the
older woman. That of course was what the trading was designed to do. But
with Misty, it ran a little deeper. For all that Claire had been a
spoiled and wilful child, that was as much a product of a lack of
parental direction as any innate tendencies. When Mistress Electra taught
her not just obedience and self-discipline, but to find fulfilment in
subservience, that provided a structure and purpose to her life that she
would never have suspected was lacking.

It helped too that Misty was learning, albeit in a much more demanding
fashion, to experience the same pleasure that she was delivering to the
staff.

Part of the potential ponies' training was to accept being constantly
touched or licked on their sensitive parts. Sometimes this was a reward.
But it could just as often be a trial, especially when vibrators were
held against their genitals for extended periods.

It was a rare day on which the trainees did not build up tension that
begged for release. For the boys, that simply had to be endured. Their
cocks were more or less permanently encased in cages that prevented them
from having erections, so that even when stimulated to orgasm their
climaxes were painful and unsatisfying. Many of those who completed their
training would eventually choose to be gelded, rather than having to live
with the frustration and discomfort - if they were given the choice, that
is.

The ponygirls, however, were treated differently. They were afforded the
opportunity at the end of each day to satisfy one another - though never
with their hands, which were invariably in restraint. All they could use
were their mouths. Over time, Misty grew to cherish the taste of the
sweet young pussies of the other trainees, some of them as young as ten,
almost as much as the feeling of their writhing, urgent tongues on her
own dripping wet slit.

Cocks were another matter. She learnt how to take them deep into her
throat and to tolerate the taste of the sperm deposits that she became
adept at eliciting. And when Mistress began fucking Misty's ass with
strapons that gradually grew in size, the discomfort was only marginally
greater than the feel of her butt plugs.

And it wasn't just human or plastic phalluses she had to endure. The
trainees were from time to time required to submit to being fucked by
some of the more aggressive dogs that helped guard the camp.

The first time it happened to Misty, she was more shocked than repelled.
Shocked by the act itself of course. But also by her complete lack of
resistance to the unnatural violation. When directed to remove her tail,
tuck her butt in the air and prepare to be mounted by an eager and
already hard Bullmastiff, her obedience was immediate and
unquestioning. Which was doubtless the point of the exercise, she
reflected, as the dog brought its weight down on her and tried briefly to
circumvent the chastity belt she'd been given to preserve her virginity,
before sliding into her ass. Her submission proved to both her captors
and herself just how little volition or dignity she retained.

The act itself was more frantic than any previous penetration, though if
anything less uncomfortable than being filled up by the huge strapon
Mistress subsequently used on Misty, her ass still slick with the
Bullmastiff's watery discharge.

If she could cope with canines, however, what scared her was the thought
of having to take a horse's cock. And one day that fear moved from the
abstract to the real.

The training camp had a set of stables that were not in permanent use,
but in which visiting equines were accommodated as and when they were
needed. Misty was sent as part of a group of trainees to groom a team of
real ponies. The task itself was not unusual. But what followed was
something else.

As Claire, she had grown up loving horses. Until something had happened
to make her scared of them. She wasn't sure what, but for some years now
she had found their presence deeply unsettling. She had kept riding them
only so as not to lose face in front of her friends. Since arriving at
the compound, her fear hadn't prevented her from performing her allotted
tasks in the stables, because disobedience would have been unthinkable.
But it did make her uneasy. And that sensation only grew when Mistress
instructed her staff to set up "the breeding bench."

This turned out to be a fairly basic piece of apparatus that allowed one
of the ponyboys, Oscar, to be positioned on all fours, off the floor and
with his butt invitingly in the air, and firmly shackled to prevent
movement. Another trainee, Jill, was instructed to lie on the ground
beneath him, looking up.

The purpose of the crossbars above Oscar became apparent when a male pony
was led in, his large cock already hard, and positioned behind Oscar,
whose ass had been sprayed with a chemical that plainly marked him as a
potential mate. As the pony reared up to mount, his front hooves rested
on the bars, preventing them from doing any damage to the boy, or the
girl beneath him.

The potential damage from his rampant erection was another matter
entirely.

Misty watched in horrified fascination, unsure what was more alarming:
the size and thickness of the pony's shaft, which was perhaps between
twelve and fifteen inches in length; or the gaping cavity that was
revealed when Oscar's huge buttplug was removed, a hole that was
immediately smeared with some sort of grease.

Even with the assistance of a couple of staff members, it took the pony
several tries to locate his human mare's asshole, and then to force his
large cockhead inside.

It had only managed to penetrate a few inches when Misty was dispatched
with two of the other trainees to "prepare" the next pony. Walking
obediently away, her discipline prevented her from turning to watch what
was happening behind her. But she could hear all too well.

There were pants and grunts, which might have been either from the pony
or Oscar. But when the moans started and quickly escalated to strangled
screams, there could be no doubt who was producing them. The noises were
bad enough. But what really chilled Misty was that she couldn't tell
whether they were born of pleasure or pain.

As she rounded a corner and moved into the adjoining stable, the sounds
faded only a little. But soon enough she had forgotten all about them, as
she confronted a new challenge: the task of exciting the next pony into
action.

A few quick lessons showed Misty and the other trainees what to do.
Horror warred with fascination on the part of the captive girl as she
watched and felt the flared cock head emerge from its sheath, then throb
alarmingly.

They were each instructed to try and take the phallus into their mouth.
Only Sebastian could open his jaws wide enough to get his lips around the
head - and even he couldn't get it in any further. So instead they
lavished attention on the pony with their tongues, kissing and licking it
with an enthusiasm they knew their trainers wanted to see, but which
Misty most certainly didn't feel. The taste and smell was not that bad,
all things considered. But she was terrified by the thought of that giant
shaft inside her.

The even scarier thought was that this was just a pony, a miniature
version of the much larger animals that she'd watched and ridden before.
If Mistress Electra was to be believed, Misty might at some point be
expected to service a real stallion ...

The sight that greeted her when she helped lead the now rock hard pony
back to the mounting frame did nothing for her peace of mind. Oscar was
being held up by two of the staff, his body shaking as what looked like a
waterfall of cum cascaded from between his reddened butt cheeks. It was
flowing into the waiting mouth of Jill, who was struggling to gulp down
the massive deposit. Her hair, plumes and harness were coated with the
creamy goo, which was tinged with pink. It wasn't hard to figure out what
had given it that colour.

But the real shock came when Misty saw who was waiting on the frame for
the second pony. It was her friend, Melanie. Or Rosie, as she was now
known.

The blonde had never meant that much to the girl who used to be Claire,
if she was honest. Her erstwhile companion had been pleasant enough, and
they tended to like the same things. But since they had been brought
here, Rosie's greater cooperation had put her well ahead of Misty in her
training. And there had been precious little opportunity to communicate,
much less to support one another.

In one very specific sense, of course the two teens had become closer
than they had ever been. It would never have occurred to Claire even to
imagine having sex with her friend. Now, as Misty, she was as used to
tasting Rosie's delicious young pussy as she was to feeling the blonde
lapping at her eager cunt. But that was a connection she had with all the
ponygirls in training and there were others who excited her more - like
eleven-year-old Lily, whose tongue work was as impressive as her
flexibility.

So while Misty was certainly concerned about what might be about to
happen to her former playmate, what really jarred her was the thought
that in a few weeks' time, maybe only days, she would be the one fastened
in place waiting to be fucked by what, if Mistress was to be believed,
would be the first of many horse cocks.

None of this showed on her face. The discipline instilled in her was
sufficiently strong that she made no move to intervene. And when
instructed to lie down with her head right underneath Rosie's groin, she
obeyed with her usual alacrity. Nor did she flinch as the pony she had
brought to erection was positioned above her.

It was only when the equine shaft forced its way into her friend's cunt,
eliciting a guttural scream from Rosie, that Misty reacted, in the only
way her training allowed. She fainted.

When she came to, she was back in her regular stall, tied as usual to a
post. And she stayed there for the next forty-eight hours or so. Nobody
came to see her, not even to bring her food and water, although she could
hear the sounds of the other trainees being fed. It was a punishment, she
surmised. But there was nothing she could do about it.

It said much for her subjugated state that she made no attempt to
protest. If this was some kind of endurance test, she would pass it. But
not because she had resolved to do that. After more than a year in
captivity, she simply could no longer imagine doing anything other than
tolerate what was being done to her.

When two staff members finally came to feed her and hose her off, Misty's
whimper of relief remained locked in her throat. She was taken to another
stable, where blinders were put on her eyes and she was tied to what
could only have been a breeding bench. Her pulse and breathing rate
started to quicken. But then she felt the sharp prick of a needle, as
something was injected into her behind.

Within a few short minutes the tide of panic had receded and a sense of
calm had descended. For the first time since she had been abducted,
waking or asleep, Misty felt truly at ease. Even the sounds of a horse
behind her did not disturb her sense of comfort. Whatever was about to
happen could not hurt her, she was sure.

Until she felt something large pressing urgently between her buttocks -
and a sudden surge of terror welled up inside her. There was something
else too, a dim recollection of a large, black shape filling her vision,
of choking and distant laughter ... and then everything went dark again.

When she recovered, she was once again back in her stall. But this time
she was not alone. Mistress Electra was looking down at her, her face
twisted with two emotions that Misty had never previously seen on the
older woman's face: frustration and anxiety. Seeing that filled Misty
with a deep sense of shame. She didn't want to let Mistress down.

"The tranquilliser should have worked," the trainer said, shaking her
head. She held up a large dildo shaped like a horse's cock. Even in her
muddled state, Misty could guess that this was what she had felt against
her ass, right before fainting. As the object was shoved towards her, the
young ponygirl dutifully opened her mouth, but her eyes also rolled back
into her head as she felt the panic return.

"The fuck is wrong with you?" muttered the Mistress irritably,
withdrawing the dildo. "I know it's not your training, you're as broken
in as I've ever seen. And if you can cope with my strapons, I don't see
why a horse should worry you. Some bad experience, maybe?"

Even if she'd known the answer, Misty would have understood she was not
expected to respond. Animals didn't talk - ever.

"And I can't send you to a fucking therapist, can I? Seriously, if I
didn't know how much it would take off your value, I'd have you whipped
until you were bloody. As it is ..."

Mistress Electra trailed off, pondering for a moment, then said: "Okay,
that might work. I'll make some calls."

Misty didn't see her again for a couple of days, when she was led into
another stable, this one brightly, almost painfully lit, and with cameras
placed around it. She was once again put over a bench, though this time
with no bars above her and no restraints to hold her in place. She tensed
up, but then relaxed when she realised there was no sound or scent of any
nearby horse, just the unmistakable perfume of her mistress.

"So, Misty," announced the older woman as she came into view, her sense
of equilibrium plainly now restored, though there was just a hint of a
warning in her tone. "If you can't be trusted to service horses like a
good ponygirl, let's see how you cope with being a different kind of
slut, shall we?"

The fourteen-year-old heard yapping as what sounded like a pack of dogs
was admitted to the stable. Resisting the urge to look around, even as
something was sprayed over her raised butt, she held herself still as she
was mounted by an excited canine - a Rottweiler, she thought, from the
sound, and the glimpses she got of its front legs. As Claire, she'd
always been interested in dogs - though she could never have imagined
getting fucked by them.

There was the usual delay, as the Rottweiler tried ineffectually to
penetrate the cage that protected the young redhead's virgin cunt, before
settling for her asshole, which opened to accept his stabbing cock.

A whistle sounded and Misty instantly obeyed the command implicit in its
pitch, lifting her head to find that two staff members were holding a
struggling dog, his erect dick positioned in front of the trainee. No
instruction was offered, or needed. Misty closed her lips around the
inflamed organ, falling into an unconscious rhythm with the assault on
her butt as she began to bob her head and fellate the Rottweiler. Her
mouth steadily filled with the dog's semen, even as she felt a load being
injected into her ass.

Unlike on previous occasions when she had serviced canines, there was no
respite allowed when the cock inside her butt began to swell. Before she
could be properly knotted, the first dog was withdrawn and another took
his place. And then another, and another, until Misty lost count.

And all the while her mouth was kept busy as well, although before long
her neck muscles were so overtaxed that she could no longer raise and
lower her head. All she could manage was to hold her mouth open as the
dogs in front either facefucked her or, if they could not be induced to
do that, had their dicks pumped by the staff who held them. Either way,
what seemed like an endless stream of canine cum poured down her throat.

Misty lost all sense of time as, two by two, the pack used her, and kept
using her. Although her harness gave her some protection from the dogs'
scrabbling claws, she was scratched and cut in numerous places, while her
muscles ached from the strain of holding her position on the bench. But
pain and discomfort had been constant companions during her training and
she had learned how to set them aside.

She could, she knew, have tried to move, even if only to change position
slightly. But aside from the threat of punishment, what held her in place
was an iron-clad determination to make it up to the mistress she had
disappointed. So she endured the weight of the dogs' bodies, and the
damage they were doing with their claws, and the relentless, pounding
assault of their dicks inside her cum-filled ass, and the heaviness of
their sperm in her belly, and concentrated on the simple task of being
packraped.

At one point during the ordeal she realised her body was shaking. It took
her a few seconds to understand, in her sore and exhausted state, that
she was coming. It must have been the relentless anal stimulation, she
dimly supposed, since her clit was protected by her chastity device from
any touching, let alone pressure. It wasn't something she had previously
experienced.

Mercifully, the cock in her mouth was withdrawn at that point, and she
was free to moan without choking on the steady stream of cum she had been
ingesting When nothing was done to replace it, and no punishment was
forthcoming for either the orgasm or the sounds it had prompted, she gave
herself over to the climax.

As the latest Rottweiler withdrew or was pulled from her abused ass, she
couldn't help but whimper ... though whether from relief or
disappointment, she was too frazzled to decide. Soon enough, however,
another dog was fucking her. It took only two more before Misty's next
orgasm arrived, and another one quickly followed, until her passage
became so loose that even the most well hung of the pack couldn't provide
the necessary stimulation - though they still seemed able to join their
seed to the flood now cascading down her thighs.

Everything blurred after that, and without the electric thrill of the
climaxes to penetrate the fog, Misty lost all sense of place or time.

She must have passed out, because when she next came to her senses, she
was somewhere else. Not the stables at all, but a place that she
struggled to recognise. It was ... that was right, a bedroom. Somewhere
humans slept.

The soft carpet on which she was lying was not the only thing that felt
unfamiliar. Her harness had been removed and she was naked, aside from
braces that prevented her knees and elbows from straightening, and a
large studded collar, from which a chain ran to the nearest bedpost. Some
kind of soothing lotion had been daubed on the cuts and scratches that
covered her torso.

A bowl of water was nearby. Even though she could have picked it up, she
bent her head and lapped at it.

"What a good little doggy," said Mistress Electra as she strode into the
bedroom and began to disrobe. Her tone was sardonic, but her voice
softened as she continued.

"You did well Misty. Not sure whether you set any records with the number
of dogs you managed to satisfy, but my clients will be delighted when
they see the recording. Pretty sure it will be a bestseller!"

The thought of anyone watching what had just happened to her would have
shamed and humiliated Claire. As it was, Misty just felt a sense of pride
that she had pleased her mistress.

"You know," said the older woman, as she stripped off her underwear and
sat down on the bed, "I quite like the thought of keeping you as a pet.
Especially given how good you are with your tongue."

She opened her legs and motioned to Misty, then made an appreciative
noise as the young girl crawled forward obediently and started licking
the proffered pussy.

"But ... for one thing, you've already been sold. And for another, well,
to be honest, you're already getting a little old for my taste."

Misty had learned not to have any hopes or expectations for her future.
But even so, she couldn't help the surge of disappointment that ran
through her. Still lapping at the older woman's glistening quim, she
couldn't help casting a soulful gaze upwards. Mistress Electra chuckled
as she noticed the look and patted the girl's head.

"I should have seen it earlier, Misty, I really should. I've trained you
as well as I could, but you're not a pony at all, are you? A bitch,
that's what you are. A slutty little bitch who needs to be collared and
owned and fucked. And right now, you'd like nothing more than to be my
bitch, right?"

Thinking that on this occasion at least an answer might be expected of
her, Misty lifted one hand up in the air and made a single pawing motion.
One hoof for yes, two for no. It was the only communication the trainees
were allowed, and then only in response to a direct query.

The older woman laughed. "Yeah, thought so. Well, you'll be off in the
morning to your new home - and from what little I know, it sounds like
you're in for some real fun. But for tonight ... I get you to myself."

She pushed the girl's head away and rose to her feet. "All right, you've
got me nicely in the mood. Now up on that bed, hands and knees, bottom in
the air."

As Misty complied, Mistress Electra rummaged in a drawer, located a large
dildo in the shape of a dog's dick and strapped it around her waist. It
was double ended, with a shorter and more conventional looking phallus
that slipped into her own pussy.

She positioned herself behind the girl and admired the sight of the pert
young body she was about to enjoy.

"Your new owners were very clear that you mustn't have been ... how did
they put it? Ah yes, 'inseminated.' But they didn't say anything about
you being intact." Applying some lubricant to the head of the dildo, she
located her target and thrust forward.

Misty gasped as, for the first time, it was not her asshole that was
penetrated, but her tight, virgin cunt. Despite her training, she
couldn't help releasing a cry that was as much shock as anguish, when the
dildo tore through her barrier. But soon enough she was issuing cries of
a different sort, and joining them to those of her mistress, as she
joyfully submitted to being ravished.

Misty understood that she would soon have to deal with the challenge of
being moved elsewhere and becoming some kind of puppy girl. From the dark
hints Mistress had dropped, she would be servicing a lot of dogs. Whether
there would be humans as well, she didn't know. But for now, it was
enough that she knew exactly who and what she was. She was Mistress
Electra's bitch.

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

A few months later, Misty was thinking back to that night of pleasure, as
she watched Jenni feeding the puppies and waited to see whether any dogs
would be sent in to service her and the other bitches.

Ordinarily, the puppy girls were taken to another room to be fucked by a
succession of different dogs. Misty had come to enjoy those sessions, not
least because - unlike some of the others - she could come whether the
males mounting her chose her cunt or her ass, although her rear passage
tended to require a lot more work to reach a climax.

But there were also days when single dogs were sent in to take their pick
of the bitches. Misty had grown especially fond of one particular Great
Dane, partly for his vigour and stamina, but also because his huge dick
resembled the dildo that Mistress Electra had so spectacularly wielded to
take Misty's virginity.

Misty smiled as she watched the tiny puppies compete to suckle at
Jenni's large, milk-swollen teats. Or she would have smiled, if the ring
gag in her mouth and the facial injections she'd received hadn't
combined to rob her of anything resembling human expressions. Not that
she minded, any more than she was bothered by the outsize tongue that was
coiled inside her mouth.

It had been different when she arrived of course, still grieving the loss
of her mistress and shaken by all the changes to her body and daily
routines. But that was when Jenni had been so important in helping her to
settle in, as she did with all the other bitches in the pen. Whether it
was allowing Misty for the first few nights at least to suckle at her
breast and then go to sleep in her embrace, or teaching the young bitch
where she stood in the pen's complex hierarchy, Jenni had been a mother
to Misty when she most needed it.

A gate clanged behind Misty and she looked round eagerly to see who it
was. But before she even saw the dog entering the cage - it was never a
human, a fact that bothered the young redhead far less than she might
have thought when she first arrived - her nose told her it was a
Doberman, not a Great Dane.

And not just any Doberman, but Bella's Doberman.

Misty had quickly learned that while this particular dog would happily
mount her or any other bitch if Bella was elsewhere, the presence of the
puppy boi would preclude anyone else from getting a look in. And if there
were any other male dogs around, they would be fought off with a ferocity
that the Doberman reserved exclusively for his favourite bitch.

There were times when Misty envied Bella that special connection. But not
that much. She had come to enjoy being pleasured by so many different
breeds, with their varied scents and cocks and knots and mating styles.
Not to mention the distinctive taste their cum seemed to have, when she
was required to lick out the dripping cunt or asshole of one of the
superior bitches.

And besides, while Bella might have his very own Doberman, there was
something else the puppy boi couldn't have. Misty looked down at her
steadily swelling belly. She wondered what breed she was going to produce
...

THE END

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