by Paul Blades
The short fat one went into a nearby pantry and emerged with a can with a brightly colored label. She placed it down on the counter and proceeded to open it. Reaching above her to a shelf above the steam table, she pulled down two shiny, aluminum doggie bowls. With a large spoon she emptied the can into one of them. She went over to the sink and, after running the water for a few seconds, filled the second bowl with water. Then she brought both bowls over to where Carly knelt and put them on the floor in front of her.
“Coma todo esto, pequeña perrita, o seguro que obtendrá el látigo,” she said with more than a bit of sternness in her voice.
There was that word again, “látigo”. She had said it before. Carly divined what she meant. The whip! She looked down at the glop in her bowl and then up at the woman. Eat it all or you’ll get the whip. That was what she had said. The woman was giving her icy stare that brooked no dispute. Carly was hungry, but was she hungry enough to get down the foul smelling slop the woman had spooned out of the brightly colored can? Were they really going to make her eat dog food? Or was it some kind of cheap canned stew? There was no way to tell. A feeling of deep despair flowed through her. “I’m not an animal!” she thought bravely. Tears were flowing down her face.
Then the woman’s look of sternness turned into a scowl. She walked briskly over to the pantry and emerged with a long, thin switch much like Vincenzo carried. She stepped in front of Carly, her legs spread, brandishing the whip. She held out three fingers. Then she shook her hand, pointing a single finger at her. “¡Uno!” she said darkly. She paused a second and then threw out two fingers. “¡Dos!” She spat out. She paused a second more.
Carly saw her draw her hand back. “Oh, god, please don’t whip me!” she cried out in her mind. Before the hand could come down, she lowered her face to the bowl, and suppressing a doleful sob, placed her face in it and began to eat.
“¡Bueno!” she heard the woman say. And then she walked away.
Carly mouthed down the fierce smelling food sobbing all the while. After each swallow, she bent her head down to the water bowl and washed it down. There was so much of the food and it tasted so raunchy that a couple of times she felt like she was going to regurgitate what she had swallowed, but she was able to fight it off. After a while, she started to get used to the taste. It tasted a little like beef, but for all she knew it could be horsemeat. It was spicy, which was a good thing, and it had a heavy tomato sauce.
When she was done eating, she lapped up as much of the water as she could, swishing it around in her mouth the get the taste out. She had stopped sobbing, but she was still disheartened. How many doggies had knelt here like her before this, she wondered. How long did they have to stay doggies? What happened to them afterwards? Was she really going to have to live like this? And how could the otherwise jolly looking women be so cruel? How often would they make her come like that? Would they make her do anything else?
She knelt back and watched the women move back and forth intent on their tasks. After a while, the short fast one came over with a damp cloth and wiped her face and chin. Then she motioned Carly towards the cage behind her. Carly turned and looked into it and then back at the woman. At the same moment, the woman’s hand flashed across her face. Carly screeched. She looked at the scowling woman.
“¡No me gusta decir las cosas dos veces, coño! ¡Ahora entra en la jaula! ¿Entiende?”
Carly quickly scurried into the cage, sobbing. When she was all the way in, the woman closed the door and locked it. Then she went back to her work.
Unlike the cage Lorenzo had stuffed her in, this one had enough room for her to turn around. It was made of shiny steel and had a pad on the bottom. Its thin steel bars were about 6” apart. It was tall enough that she could kneel up and wide enough so that she could lie down on her side, if she pulled her knees up. That was what she did, and then she buried her head in her arms and cried.
She didn’t realize that she had fallen asleep until she felt something jab her fiercely in the ribs. She released a moan and jumped awake. She looked up through the silver bars of her cage to see who her tormentor might be, expecting to see one of the old women. Instead, there was a tall, thin, elegant woman, maybe in her late 30’s. She had black hair pulled back into a bun. Her face was refined with fine lines and a noble mien. But her blue eyes were deadly cold. They were shaded in light blue and her eyebrows were perfectly penciled. In her ears was golden jewelry encircling what looked like sizable diamonds. Her dress, which hugged her svelte figure, was black and she was wearing stylish black high heels. Her legs were encased in dark hued, sheer stockings. The skirt on her dress, which flounced out slightly, came down to just below her knees. She had on a golden belt with a large buckle.
Carly had seen pictures of noble Spanish women from paintings and in fashion magazines and this woman looked like she could have come out of one of them. Her demeanor was haughty and expectant of deference. Her skin color was light. Her lips were painted red, not bright red, but dark, more like the red of a steamed beet, almost purple.
She was holding in her elegant right hand an 18” long riding crop encased in black leather. It had a handle formed into a grip. It was what she had poked her with. She poked Carly again, harder this time, and ordered her sharply, “¡En tus ancas!”
Carly had to take a second to remember what the words meant. Vincenzo had thrown so many Spanish phrases at her, hands and knees, spread your legs, squat, what was this one? She saw that the woman was about to explode in anger and then she remembered. She scrambled to her knees, resting on her rear legs. “On your haunches,” that was what it meant. Uncertain what to do with her hands, she raised them as Vincenzo had shown her, just above the level of her breasts, bent over in begging mode.
The woman laughed. It was a hearty, comfortable laugh, certain in its right of enjoyment. “That is very cute,” she said sharply. “It’s Vincenzo’s little joke. But for me,” she said ominously, “you do what I say! Now put those paws behind your back and straighten up your spine! Tit’s out like the slut you are!”
Carly complied immediately. She looked at the woman dolefully. There was something cruel in her that made a block of ice form in her belly. What new torment was she to be subjected to now? Who was this woman?
She answered Carly’s question right away. “I am Angelika,” she said sternly. “I rule over the females here. Dogs and humans,” she added, smirking. “And so I rule over you when you are not in the hands of your maestro and when Vincenzo has no use for you. You are to obey my words to the letter the moment you hear them and forever after.” She banged her crop against the side of the cage. It made a deep sound, deeper than if it was merely made of wood. Carly realized that it must have something metal at its core. It would inflict a serious bruise.
“¡Arrodillate más derecho, perrita!” she ordered sternly, her voice like ice. “Kneel straighter!”
Carly stretched herself to her limit. “Es mejor,” the woman said. That’s better.
She turned to the women behind her and asked something of them in Spanish. The old women replied most respectfully affirmatively. “Es bueno,” the woman returned.
The elegant but fear inspiring lady unlocked the cage. “¡Sal de la jaula!” she ordered.
Carly would have much preferred staying in, no matter how shameful it was to be in the cage. But she knew that the woman would brook no delay so she moved forward and crept fretfully out on her hands and knees. Once she was out, she didn’t know what she should do, but the woman quickly gave her direction.
She battered her in the ribs with her baton. “Get back up, coño,” she said.
Carly gave a deep groan and scrambled up to her knees again. She put her hands behind her back and arched it, pushing out her breasts. The woman ran her baton over and under them, lifting them up and letting them fall. “When anyone tells you, “¡Presentate!” this is how you will kneel,” she said.
Carly let that sink in. There was so much to learn and the cons
equences of any mistakes were harsh and instantaneous. She turned her head to look at the woman who was standing off to her right. “¡Ojos siempre derecho!” she snapped. “Eyes straight ahead, always!” She gave Carly a blow from her baton across her back, just below her hands. A sourness spread through Carly’s body and she groaned.
“What’s going on is no business of yours!” the lady spat at her angrily. “You’re just a perrita estupida now. What human beings do is of no concern to you. You’re here to fuck and suck and do what you’re told. ¿Entiende?”
The sourness had made Carly’s stomach churn. An ache radiated from her back all over. But she had heard the question. “Yarp!” she shouted. Tears were flowing down her face. Today she seemed to have a never ending supply of them. She had known her life was going to be harsh, but what she was experiencing was way beyond what she had ever imagined. She knelt there, cringing, awaiting the next blow of the heavy wand the woman carried. She felt like she was on the very edge of insanity. The only thing stopping her from breaking down and sobbing, writhing and moaning on the floor in abject misery was the weapon the woman carried and the certainty she would suffer a rain of agonizing blows if she did. Her whole body was shaking.
“¡Fuerte!” the woman shouted.
“Yarp!” Carly called out even louder.
“¡Mas fuerete, estupida! Or I’ll beat you until your bones are broken!”
“Yarp!” Carly screamed as loud as she could. Her eyes were glued straight ahead of her, but out of the corner, she peaked, praying that she would not see the baton descending again.
The woman paused. “¡Bueno!” she said then. She released the chain that was hooked to Carly’s collar and then picked up the leash that the old woman had thrown on the floor. She turned to the women and spat something out to them in Spanish, pointing to a hook on the wall. Carly heard the women sheepishly affirm the lady’s instructions. The leash belonged there, on the hook! The fact that the old women seemed to harbor their own fear of the younger woman made Carly’s heart even heavier at the prospect of being in her power.
She fixed the leash to the ring in the front of Carly’s collar. “We’re going for a little walk, coño. Un pequeño paseo.” She gave the leash a harsh tug. “¡Manos y rodillas!” she ordered. Carly fell to her hands and knees.
“Vamonos,” the woman said and she stepped away.
She had a brisk, broad stride and Carly struggled to keep up with her. Her high heels clicked loudly on the tile floor. The woman held the swinging door open for her. As soon as Carly was through, she took off again, down a long, narrow hallway with a polished wooden floor. They made a turn after about thirty feet, passing several rooms, and went through a door. Beyond the door, the floor was softly carpeted with a carmine colored rug. The walls were a soft shade of pink. The corridor went on for forty, maybe fifty feet. It was wide and several small tables with flowers lined the walls along with soft pastel paintings of flowers and garden scenes. At the end of the hallway was a large double door. The woman opened it and led Carly through.
They had entered a vast bedroom. It was all in blue of varying hues. The rug, a high pile carpet, was dark navy blue. The walls were greyish blue. There were several elegant French Empire style chairs around the room with very light powder blue, quilted padding. On the far wall were tall French windows with peacock blue curtains lined with white chintz pulled to each side. Along the side walls was finely carved light stained oak dressers and a dressing table with a large mirror. In the middle of the room was a large bed with a coral blue bedspread. Off to the right was a large walk-in closet and next to that a bathroom.
The woman led Carly about 10’ into the room and then turned to her. Carly looked up at her dismally. She had no desire to be alone with this woman. In the corner of the room was a whipping stand like the one in Lorenzo’s room and at the foot of the bed a cage that matched the one at the foot of his.
“¡Presentate!” the woman snapped at her. Carly pushed herself up, reared back on her haunches and pulled her body straight. She placed her hands behind her back. The woman leaned over and released the leash from her collar. She went over to one of the dressers, the taller one, and, rolling up the leash, placed it on the top. She then opened one of the small drawers at the top and pulled out a small chain from it. She went behind Carly and attached one end of the chain to her right wrist and then pulled it up painfully making Carly whine. She felt the chain going through the ring in the back of her collar. The woman then raised her left wrist high, painfully high, and connected the free end of the chain to it.
Carly felt the strain immediately. Her shoulders were pulled back and the front of the collar dug into her neck, making it difficult to breathe. She clasped her lips tightly together and issued a moan of unhappiness, “Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm!” The woman stood before her and gave her face a vicious slap. Carly’s head turned and her cheek burned. She shrieked and lost her balance and almost fell over. She barely righted herself. The woman still had the baton in her hand. She knew if she toppled over, she would feel an immediate, deadening blow from it. She pressed her lips back together and swallowed the anguished sob that arose within her. But she couldn’t help the tears flowing down her face.
“Slutty little doggies like you are not allowed to whine and moan!” the woman spat out tersely. “¿Entiende?”
Her lips trembling in self-pity, Carly barely managed a “Yarp!” in response.
“¡Mas fuerte!” the woman shot at her.
Using all her strength, Carly forced out a louder bark, “Yarp!”
“Bueno,” the woman remarked. “Just remember what I said. Now kneel up straighter and push your tits out more.”
Carly did what she was told. And remembering what the woman had said when she had been removed from her cage in the kitchen, she peered her eyes straight ahead.
The woman stood there looking at her for a few moments. Carly felt her eyes crawling over her breasts, her belly and her sex. Everything about being in the woman’s bedroom spelled out the woman’s impending use of her.
Her thoughts went back to the Rogue’s mansion when that bull dike of a woman had stood outside her cage and taunted her. The idea of being used as a lesbian slut had made her stomach swim then and it did the same thing now. This too had not been in the equation when she had thought about what being sold as a whore in Mexico would be like. She was looking straight at the woman, her eyes at the level of her belly. From the edges of her vision, she could see the woman’s plump breasts pushing out the bodice of her dress, her long, stockinged legs, her fine hips. And she thought about what was hidden below the woman’s skirt. A wave of sickness went through her. “Please don’t let this happen!” she begged her indifferent god. “Please!”
The woman turned and stepped away. She tossed the baton onto the bed where it did a little bounce and kicked off her high heels. She reached behind her head and loosened her jet black hair from its bun. It fell down below her shoulders. With her hands she stroked underneath it to spread it out. She stepped out of Carly’s vision.
There was silence and then the slight echo of a toilet lid being raised in the bathroom. A moment later, she heard the sound of the woman peeing. A few seconds after it ended, she heard the toilet flush, then the running of the water in the sink. A few moments after the water stopped, the woman emerged drying her hands with a fluffy, turquoise towel. She tossed the towel on the bed.
Without looking at Carly, the woman went to the side of the room, again out of Carly’s sight. There was the sound of a cabinet opening and then a stopper being pulled out of a bottle. She heard the clink of a crystal glass and the pouring of liquid. The stopper went back into the bottle and there was the sound of the cabinet closing. A moment later, the woman appeared back in front of Carly. She was holding a large, round crystal wineglass in her right hand. It was filled with a translucent, golden liquid. The woman took a long sip of it and released a sigh of enjoyment.
With her hair down, the woman looked even
more alluring. The room was filled with a soft light from the window to the left of the woman and it sparkled in her hair, giving off a kind of a glow. Holding the glass of wine away from her body, the woman crouched down, bending her knees, pulling her dress taught on her thighs and buttocks. She placed her free hand on Carly’s chin and turned her head left and right, examining her face. Then her hand dropped and she took hold of Carly’s right breast, squeezing it softly, deftly. Her hand was slightly cool from being washed. She had long fingernails, painted to match her lips and they scratched at Carly’s skin slightly. A shiver went down her spine.
The hand slipped to her nipple and gave it a little tug. Then the hand went to her other breast and repeated the examination as if to make sure that the pair was matched.
The woman was so close that Carly could smell her breath. It was slightly tinged with the aroma of the wine. Her perfume was enthralling and expensive smelling. Carly maintained her eyes straight ahead. She was looking right into the woman’s face. She concentrated on a spot on her forehead, not wanting to be caught looking the woman directly in the eyes. But she couldn’t help shifting her gaze there for an instant or two.
Her blue eyes were starry, almost like cut glass, and the blue in them was bright. Her eyebrows were perfectly plucked and lightly lined. Seeing them reminded Carly of her lack and the vision of herself she had had when Vincenzo had made her look in the mirror. She had almost forgotten the prosthetic nose he had placed on her and the little spots. She felt like bursting into tears again. The sight of this woman’s natural, refined beauty made her cringe at the thought of what the woman must be seeing in return.
