Back to Content & Review of this story Next Chapter Display the whole story in new window (text only) Previous Story Back to List of Newest Stories Next Story Back to BDSM Library Home

Review This Story || Author: JAR

Don\'t get jealous

Part 1

DONT GET JEALOUS


By JAR


Chapter 1



I could not believe that I had been so stupid.  What had made me think I could get away with it?  From Carlos, of all people. It had seemed so easy to leave with the cash after the way he had treated me.  Let me explain, I had been living with him for about a year and fallen in love with him.    I even hoped to marry him.  That was what made me so angry when he brought home the twins.  I found out that he had been keeping them in another house he owned up till now.  This had been going on for months, but now he wanted all three of us in one place, and I was not happy about this.   Knowing that he was a Mob Boss from South America meant I had to put up with the situation.   I had no money of my own as he paid for every thing.  So with no were else to go, that would be safe, I had to stay.   I would continue looking for some way to leave permanently, but not feet first as they say.  


One night I had grab the two bags of cash that had arrived in afternoon and took a car.    I drove to the next town and parked the car in a shopping Mall.   I went into the Malls toilets and died my hair then to a car lot and bought a cheep car.  Transferred the bags of cash and drove as far as I could before stopping at a road side motel about 9 that night, exhausted.    At 2 in the morning Harry and Pedro shook me awake.  All I could say was “shit” as I looked up to see them standing by the bed grinning, as that was what I was in, very deeply.


I was sleeping in the nude so I was given a silk dressing gown to wear, but nothing else and my hands were cuffed behind my back.   They put me in the back seat of the car and we drove back to the house and I was sure to my impending death.  I just hoped that it would not be too painful.


On arrival at the house Harry and Pedro took me the Gym room at the back of the Garage.   The dressing gown was removed and my wrists were tied together in front of me with a rope, the end of which was passed through a eye bolt in a roof beam.   My arms were then pulled up over my head until I was suspended with the balls of my feet just touching the ground.    I was able to take some of my weight on my feet but felt very vulnerable being naked.     Harry and Pedro left and alone I was able to ponder my fait. At this point I started to cry.


I was there for about two hours before Carlos entered the room with the twins, Harry and Pedro.   I could see the twins did not want to be here, like me, but Harry and Pedro stood by the door to insure they stayed put.  Carlos was mad his face red with anger and he told the twins that they would watch what happen to me in case they had any ideas of doing the same thing.


Although I was scared the couple of hours waiting had made me realise that if I was to die quickly with not too much pain then I had to get him so mad that he would loose control and kill me in a rage.   When he stood in front of me I spat in his face and called him a bastard for bring in the twins and therefore it was entirety his fault I stole his money.  I saw the anger well up and then he stopped.   In a quite voice he said “you Bitch, I get your game, you think making me mad will get you a quick death, then your wrong”.  I went cold at this point.


He was wearing a shell suite and took off the jacket revealing a strong upper body under the training vest he was wearing.    He put on his hands a pair of the thin leather gloves that boxers wear when working on a punch bag.  As he put on the gloves he told the boys to tie a bar bell, with 50 lbs of weight on each end, to my ankles to keep me stretched out.


Carlos gave an upward flick of his hand and the boys shortened the rope till I was hanging about 3 inches from the floor.  I felt as if my arms would pull out of their sockets with the weight of my body and the bar bell pulling down.   Carlos started to warm up his arms and body by shadow boxing.   During this time it was clear that I was to be used as the punch bag.   Nobody had ever punched me before and I wondered what it would be like, painful I was sure.   I hoped that he would knock me out but that seemed unlikely. 


I could see him shadow boxing in front of me then stopped and said “I am going to beat you to a bloody pulp, but I will try and make sure that I dont kill you so we can do it again next week and the next and so on” and he laughed.   The weeks rest each time should allow your body to recover.  I have never had a live punch bag before he said to the Boys and laughed.     Suddenly his right fist landed in my stomach and I could not breathe.  I tried to curl up but the strength had left my body.  Then he punched me in the mouth and I felt it split open and blood pour down over my chin on to my breasts.  


For the next hour he worked over my body, face and back, even having the boys pull me higher so that he could punch my thighs, arse and cunt with ease.  I was a sea of pain and could do nothing to protect my body from his fists.  My face was a mess, both eyes were badly swollen and nearly closed.  My lips were split open and several teeth had been knocked out or dislodged and would probably fall out in time any way.   He had taken a special delight in punching my breasts and they were now almost black in colour and very swollen.  It also felt that several ribs were broken.  


I had a problem breathing as the blood from my broken nose and split lips would run down the back of my throat and choke me, so I had to keep my head down but this only encouraged him to give it uppercuts.  At some point he either stopped or I passed out.  The later followed by the former I think.  When I came too Carlos and the twins had gone but the boys were there.


They untied and removed the Bar Bell then lowered my arms till I knelt on the floor and my backside rested on my ankles.     Pedro tied ropes around each thigh and then to my ankle to ensure that I could not straighten my legs.  I had no strength to hold my self up so when they lowered my arms to untie the rope I just lay in a heap on the floor on my back.   My arms were bent back on themselves so my hand were at my shoulders and again ropes was tied around my arms so that I would not be able to straighten then out.   A metal horse bit was put in my mouth to keep it open and with straps buckled around my head to keep it in place.


I was too wasted to be able to move so Harry picked me up and carried me to the kennels, which were about 300 yards from the house and Gym.


When it had been built they had constructed 10 dog pens/runs and a small chalet to house the Kennel maid.  The chalet consisted of a bedroom with a shower and toilet, a small lounge and kitchen, it also had a utility room that was used to look after the dogs, make up their meals and give the dogs medical treatment etc.   





Each of the pens was about 12 foot wide and 20 feet long with an 8-foot wire fence around it and a concrete floor with a drain in the centre.   The roof was also wire netted over, to stop either dogs getting out or people getting into noble the dogs.   At one end of the pen they had a gate, which lead into a further, fenced off area.   This was to ensure that if a dog ran out of its pen, passed a handler it was still in an enclosed area.   8 of the pens had a large wooden kennel at one end, for the dogs to sleep in, the other two pens were empty, just a concrete fenced area for training.   Despite its size the complex only housed 8 guard dogs, that the security team used to patrol the grounds of the house. 


I had meet Helga, the Kennel Maid, several times and did not like her very much and she knew this.  She was a 15 stone German lesbian but was very good at looking after the dogs and training them.  It was in her care I was to be left.   Harry dumped me in one of the empty pens without a kennel and locked the gate.  Helga came up and asked what was going on, as she stared in amazement at my broken and bloody body.   Harry told her that I had stolen money and that Carlos was going to use me a punch bag every Friday night as punishment.


She, Helga was to look after me between times.   My arms and legs were not to be untied but she could treat me how she wished as long as I was fit to be used the next Friday.  Did she have a problem with any of this?   Asked Harry.   Helga face lit up with a big smile and she said no.  It would be her pleasure to make sure that I was in the best state possible for each Friday.  She would be please to ensure I would live as long and painful a life as possible.  From that it was clear that Helga did not like me either.


The Boys left and Helga carried me into the treatment room and put me down on the table.   I was told to stand on my knees and elbows, with her help this I did, as I had not strength to fight her. She spent about half an hour checking over my body.   She was use to doing this to the dogs, if they had been in a fight or some other problems with intruders etc.   She decided that none of the splits or cut needed stitches at the moment but cleaned them with antiseptic just in case.   The problems with my ribs and other internal injuries would have to wait for the vet, who she would callout, but they did not seem to life threatening.  She removed the bit in my mouth but told me not to make a noise or I would be in a lot more pain.  She then returned me to the pen.


She put out a bowel of water for me to drink, and then left me in the sun on the hard open concrete floor of the pen.   On the way out a chain and padlock were added to the gate, ensuring that I could not get out.    When the vet arrived about an hour later I was carried into the treatment room again and put on the examination table. 


The Vet gave me a thorough examination and said I would be fine with rest and time.  He put a couple of stitches in my split lip and told Helga that I have no major internal injuries, just lots of bruising.  He told Helga to check my urine and pooh for blood and phone if any was found.  A few other medical things were discussed but I could not hear what, as they were both leaving the office. 


After his departure Helga returned me to the Dog Run.  I was not surprised that the vet was unaffected by the sight of a tied and badly beaten person laying in a dog run, because I was not the first he had to deal with.  Carlos did like to stamp his authority on people.


As it got dark Helga arrived with a large plastic syringe and a bowel of some thick liquid, this was to be my feed for the night.  She would fill the syringe then push it between my swollen lips and inject the thick soup like liquid.   It tasted quite good and I knew that I would not have been able to eat any thing normally with my lips and mouth so swollen.  After she had changed the water in the bowel she left me for the night.   Luckily the weather was warm but the floor was hard so it was an uncomfortable night.


I lay on the concrete floor and every movement was painful and made me cry out.  At times I felt the pain was more than I could stand.  My face was hard and very swollen, I could not see out of one eye at all, as it was so badly bruise.  The other was partly closed and therefore bleary.  As my tongue felt my lips and around my mouth, I could tell that at least three of my upper and two of my lower front teeth were missing or so loose that they would fall out. 


My lips were swollen and the split that the Vet had sown up was sore and stung when touched.    Both my breast felt huge and swollen.  As I look though my half closed eye at them I could see the dark bruises and the skin look so tight.   It felt like I would die, but of course the human body can suffer much more than I was experiencing. 


Somehow I must have fallen asleep, as I woke up, the sky was getting light.  My body had stiffened up over night and I could not move without sending jolts of pain stabbing through every muscle, the pain from my ribs was like fire, so I lay as still as possible but that was painful too as the concrete was so hard.    I just ended up tossing about in pain.


It seemed years before I heard Helga putting the feeding bowels into each pen for the dogs and give them fresh water.   After the dogs had been feed she put a 4-foot square, inch thick rubber mat in the far corner of the pen I was in and informed me that this was to be my bed from now on.  She also rigged up a black plastic sheet over the mat to give some shade from the sun or rain, then she fed me with the syringe again.  “Right get on your bed now” she said and I had to crawl down the pen to the mat. 


To encourage me to move she would hit my back and legs with a riding crop.  She had all ways carried this crop, pushed into her gumboots but this was the first time I had seen her use it.  Once on the mat I had to admit it was more comfortable than the hard concrete floor.   She checked the circulation in my legs and arms by pinching my toes and fingers, asking if I could feel it, I nodded that I could. “Good” she said “the ropes are not too tight” then draped a blanket over my body and left me to sleep.  


She came back every hour or so to check on me, but other than being fed again at about 6 oclock that evening I was left to sleep and let my body heal, over the next two days.  On the second day I had to go to for a pee and the only place other than the bare concrete floor, was the drain in the middle of the pen.  I managed to get up on my elbows then on to my knees and crawled to the drain.   I squatted over it and peed, some went on my legs.   The humiliation of having to do this made me cry and I felt depressed but I had no choice.  


The next morning passed much the same as the first two but after she had seen to the other Dogs she came to my pen.  She feed me and again checked me over and pulled one of the very loose teeth from my mouth.  I tried to talk to her but I was told to be quite or I would get 25 stokes with the crop every time I talked from now on.  


With great delight I was informed that as I was now “THE BITCH” I could only talk like a dog, any thing else and she would beat me.   Did I understand?  She must have known I would say yes, for as the word came out of my mouth the crop landed on my back.   With as much force as possible and believe me she is very strong. She gave out the 25 strokes and I passed out in pain.


A bucket of cold water revived me and I was told to get on my knees and elbows, this would be my standing position from now on, like the Bitch I was.   This was painful due to the beating and soar ribs but I did it.   She held up a dog choke chain in front of my face and pointed out that it had blunt spikes on the inside and by pulling on the lead it would get tighter and the spikes would stick into the neck.    The purpose, she went on to tell me, was to use on dogs that would not obey their master.    I would wear it all the time and she was having a metal tag with my name made to put on it.


The choke chain was put around my neck and a small padlock ensured that it could not get large enough to come back over my head.  She clipped a lead to it and I was told to follow her like a dog on all fours.  For five minutes she walked me slowly around the pen, informing me that this was to help me get better and loosen the muscles from the bruising I had.   If I was a bit slow she would tug the lead and the blunt spikes would dig into my neck and throat. Nearly chocking me


At first it was painfully and hard to walk on all fours, being so banged up, and bruised but during the day she came into my pen very hour or so to repeat the procedure, each time it was a bit easer.  Having the lead put on and then taken off every time I was taken for a walk was very embarrassing.


When she arrived with my evening feed she put down two stainless steel bowels by the gate.  I was informed that I was to be feed the same as the rest of the residents.  I would get no special privileges from her.  I was no longer the snooty bitch in the Big House but was now her Bitch.   I had to crawl down the pen from the bed and sit up and beg for the meal.   The bowel of dog food looked foul but I was told to eat up if I did not wish a visit from Mr Crop.  


I lowered my head and started to eat. The taste was better than I though it would be, despite it being cold.  She seemed to be smiling a lot more than normal.   She told me to keep walking on my own and not to stop until it got dark.  She warned me that if I did not do it she would take a crop to my arse.  Twice she came and hit me with the riding crop and told me I had stopped although this was not true, but this was part of her plan to make me obedient.


After about an hour I had the fist cramps in my stomach followed by the urge to defecate.   These became more powerful and my stomach started to spasm.  Then it dawned on me why she had been smiling, she had put a laxative in the food and nothing was going to stop that now.


I had found peeing over the drain bad enough but if I had to shit in the pen it would be there for all to see.  I would be brought to the level of an animal.  Tears flowed down my face as I realised the horror I would have to face in the coming weeks.  For several hours I clenched my arse cheeks together but I knew it was a loosing battle and in the end I got up an squatted over the drain and my bowels opened and I moaned in my humiliation.  As my arms were tied I could do nothing to clean myself so had to lay down with the mess still on my arse and thighs.  Four more time I had to get up in the night and squat over the drain.


She laughed when she saw the mess on the drain and said I was not so posh now was I?   All I could do was go red with embarrassment.    It felt as if my world had ended.  The bowels were put down, by the door, and she said eat.   I hesitated to eat as I was sure she had used the laxative again.   She said nothing but hit me across the shoulders with the crop so I started to eat.   She told me to drink all the water in the bowel.


When I had finished she put a steel bar with rings on each end into my mouth and told me to hold it between my teeth.  Next she inserted a stainless steel But Plug into my rectum it was long and wide with a ring on the out side end.  Next she inserted a large metal dildo, also with a ring on it, into my vagina.  A belt was fitted around my waist and on the front was yet another ring.  From the rings on the end of bar in my mouth she attached an elastic cord that was split into two parts then joined behind my head.


Then pulling the cord down the length of my back she threaded the end thought the rings in the Butt Plug and Dido.   I was told to sit on my legs and tilt my head back as much as possible.  With great difficulty she pulled the cord up between my legs and hooked it onto the ring at the front of the belt.


The bar cut into the lips at the back of my mouth pulling my mouth open.   My head was pulled back and I could not move it forward.  But the worst of it was the two items in my neater regions were pulled in hard and painfully.  When she ordered me to stand up and walk around the pen and not to stop until told.   The effect was most embarrassing as the dildo moved inside of me as I walked.   The cord also rubbed on my back and the crack of my arse.  This was made worse as I was feeling the effects of sunburn on my back from having no covering over the last couple of days during the other walks she had made me do.


While I walked around the edge of the pen, she used a wheelbarrow to bring in sand and laid a strip around the pen about 6 inches deep and 3 foot wide.  I thought that this was to soften the concrete for me to walk on so as not to do too much damage to my knees and elbows which were by now very sore and swollen. The sand strip would help I thought, how wrong can you be.   I could feel my mouth drying out as it was held open by the bar and I could not get my lips together.   I could already feel the day getting hotter.


Next she rigged up a clock, with just a minute hand and 60 minutes in segments marked on the face.   Helga explained the 0 to 15 minutes and 30 to 45 minute segments had been painted red to tell me when to start and when to stop.   If I find you are not walking in a red segment then I will give you 10 strokes with the crop, I was informed.   Right get on with it and she left.


As I trudged around the sand path I could not help thinking my life had turned into hell.   Only a couple of days ago I had led the pampered lifestyle of a girlfriend to a rich Mobster, now I was little more than a dog.   Kept in a dog pen of the kennels and in 4 days I was to get beaten up again.  I could not help but cry over my foolish mistake of taking that money.  


When the hand got to the white zone I stopped and went to the water bowel and felt humiliated as I tired to suck water into my mouth like an animal.  With my head pulled back hard I had almost lay on my shoulder with my arse as high possible to get my face into the bowel, not helped by the bar, then suck up as much as I could.   Several times it went up my nose and I ended up coughing which hurt my ribs.  Then I went to the mat and lay down to rest and get out of the sun.  It was not long before I felt my bowels clench and I knew that she had given me another dose of laxative but with the Butt Plug in it had no were to go so for the rest of the morning I had to suffer.


By mid morning the sun had got very hot and the sweat was running down my body and legs.   By lunch time I could feel my back burning in the sun and knew I would be badly burnt if I keep on so I stopped under the shelter, when the hand went into the next red segment and I tried to make a noise to attract Helga to tell her of the problem.


When she arrived the hand was in the red zone and I ran up to the gate trying to tell her what the problem was but with the bar in my mouth I was unintelligible.   She held up her hand and I stopped talking, then with undisguised glee she pointed out my error of not walking when the hand was in the red zone and talking instead of barking.  She made me run for the remainder of that period.  I though that would be it, but as I stood on all fours in front of her, breathing very hard from the run I had just finished, she informed me that the punishment was 10 strokes with the crop for my error.   She made me run around the pen again as she hit my sunburnt back with the crop telling me to learn to do as I was told or I would get beaten senseless.


I was glad when she arrived with the evening feed and informed me that I could rest till the next day.   The Cord, Bar, But Plug, Dildo and belt were removed so I could eat and use the drain.   While I was pouring my self esteem down the drain she put a 2-foot square box about 4 inches deep filled with sand by the drain and informed my that I was to piss in the drain and shit in the litter box any accidents would result in a flogging with the crop and me cleaning it up with my mouth, did I understand.  When I said yes she hit me ten times again and said to bark like the bitch I was.  Did I understand this?  Red with embarrassment and anger at the way she was treating me I barked.  Good she said but as she left she took the blanket with her so I had to spend the night without any covering to keep me warm.  






Review This Story || Author: JAR
Back to Content & Review of this story Next Chapter Display the whole story in new window (text only) Previous Story Back to List of Newest Stories Next Story Back to BDSM Library Home