The Mortification of Isabel (9 page)

I continued to circulate, taking each cock in my mouth and sucking for a time before I moved to the next, judging this would be quite arousing for the gentlemen since anticipation lends spice to the dish in such circumstances. Whether what was happening under the table affected the way they played their hand above it I was not in a position to judge but I imagined their concentration would be adversely affected.

In one instance, someone discharged his load between the time I left him and the time I returned so that I was confronted with a sticky cock beginning to wilt. I was not sure whether he had put his hand under the table to finish himself off or whether he had come quite spontaneously.

Whatever the reason, I took his member in my mouth and licked it clean of his spending which made the thing twitch again though it did not climb to the vertical position.

I managed to reach the others in time to make them come in my mouth, sensing when each was ready and staying to finish them and I was pleased to hear some of them make complimentary remarks about me to Mr. Povey.

  
When I emerged from under the table perhaps an hour later I had persuaded the others who had not been ready to join in the first round to participate and in some cases I had served a second helping.

Some weeks later Laurence Povey, in the best of moods, announced we were going up to town. As this was to be his first excursion since he sustained his terrible injuries, it was not surprising he was looking forward to visiting old haunts and renewing friendships. He declared his new guide dog would now prove its value.

I was in some trepidation as it was one thing to be walked naked round the Drydon Hall estate and quite another matter to be seen nude in the streets of
London
. Would he expect that or would he cover me with some sort of coat or blanket? It was not something I could question him about and would simply have to wait and see.

I was greatly relieved to find that he gave me a black cloak and hood to wear in the carriage though I was still naked underneath with my collar and tail in place. John loaded a trunk onto the carriage and I wondered about its contents.

It was quite a long journey to
London
and necessitated a break for a meal at one of the coaching inns on our route. Still wearing my cloak, I was allowed to join my master and we enjoyed a hearty meal though I did attract many glances born of curiosity since I never lowered my hood.

It was late afternoon with the early winter sunset setting the
Thames
aglow when the carriage finally arrived at the master’s club which resembled a stately mansion having a façade that included well proportioned columns and portico.

Before we alighted, John, who had driven the carriage, handed something to the master which I could not recognise.

But the next moment the two men had ordered me to remove my cloak and were placing a canine mask over my head. Then, back in harness and on the lead, I had to guide my master up many flights of steps to the entrance. The mask might disguise my features but it was going to be obvious to everyone that I was a human female since my body was entirely naked.

I knew women were not allowed inside any of the gentlemen’s clubs in
London
and expected the tall footman to turn me away.

“Welcome back, Mr. Povey,” he said respectfully, simply glancing down at me for a fleeting second.

“It’s good to see you again, Albert,” said the master. I’d noticed how often Mr. Povey used the expression despite his blindness.

“Do you require anything for the dog, sir?” Albert enquired. “A bowl of water?”

“Later, perhaps,” said the master.

“Just ask any of the footmen, sir.”

We proceeded up a grand staircase carpeted in a rich wine colour with gleaming stair rods. Every piece of brass including the beautifully shaped newel posts was polished to a high sheen. At the top of the staircase we encountered a man watering the luxuriant indoor plants and I expected him to show surprise as I turned towards him but he gave me hardly a glance before genuflecting to my master.

Then as I led him down a corridor I made a slight error which made my master bark his shin on a pillar and I received a thrashing across my bottom in front of two gentlemen who smiled to each other as if enjoying my plight. It would be an unexpected but welcome entertainment for them to see a dog-woman flogged in their club.

When my master was ensconced in one of the lounges in a comfortable armchair and a waiter had brought him coffee, a footman sidled up and offered to take me below stairs for a drink and a few leftovers. Mr. Povey could not see the man’s face but when I looked up at him I thought there was a cruel look in his eyes.

My intuition proved correct because the footman took me to a locked storage room below stairs to which he had the key.

He left me there for some minutes and then returned with two other footmen who locked the door behind them. The man who had taken me from my master’s side had in his hand a thick leather belt with a large buckle. Without ceremony all of the men stripped themselves of their uniform and came at me together. There were no chairs in the storeroom but there was a table bearing jars of preserves and pickles and they told me to clear it by placing the jars on the floor.

Then one of the men carefully removed my mask and, putting his hands round my waist, he lifted me onto the table.

The three men came close and began to touch my private parts, inserting their fingers into both my orifices and taking great liberties. When one man began to bite my thighs and bottom the others followed his lead and I was bitten everywhere including round my pussy. I was not able to defend myself because I had been ordered to raise my hands above my head on pain of the belt being used. I was trembling with fear knowing that I was entirely at the mercy of this sadistic trio who could not believe their good fortune in having a naked woman to use as they pleased.

When they tired of hurting me in this way two of the footmen climbed onto the table and I was made to offer myself doggie fashion so that one could enter me, the other kneeling astride my head and forcing me to take his cock in my mouth. The third reached under me and tugged at my breasts as if milking me causing me more pain.

They took turn about and after the third had fucked me I could feel semen seeping from my pussy and running down my thighs.

“We best get her back to her master before he misses her.”

“That’s the sort of bitch worth owning.”

I knew my lower body was covered in very visible bite marks but of course my master couldn’t see them when I was returned to him and he simply thanked the footman for showing kindness to his animal. Kindness indeed!

***

That night when we returned to Drydon Hall I waited until my master was asleep before going to Millie seeking consolation. The bites from the callous footmen still hurt me more than I expected and I felt humiliated by being their plaything. Fortunately Mr. Povey had stopped locking the door to his rooms and I was able to crawl out quietly in pursuit of comfort and reassurance in Millie’s arms.

Out of habit I stayed on hands and knees as I progressed along the passage and that was the position in which John found me when he opened his bedroom door holding a candle. I first saw his hairy legs then realised he was naked.

“Inside,” he told me.

It was a few moments before I became aware that there was a woman lying naked on the bed. “You were right John,” she said. “Our little puppy was on the prowl.” It was Margaret.

The door was locked behind me and I was told to get between the two of them in the bed.

“What’s this?” Margaret had seen the bite marks. “Has our bitch been in a fight?”

 
“Someone at the master’s club, I’d wager,” said John.

They both began to feel my body and in spite of my pain and weariness I found myself responding particularly to John’s caresses.

“She’s wet enough,” said Margaret. “Little Miss Prim and Proper is changing rapidly. She’s like a bitch on heat these days. My guess would be she led on whoever it was who bit her.”

It was strange being forced to listen to them discuss me without being able to join in and stand up for myself. I had to be entirely passive.

“I think she needs another good fuck, John. Will you give it to her?”

“Unless you would like to use her first. You could try the new dildo I brought back from
London
.”

“
Young Girl’s Dream.
Is that its name?”

It was still in its packaging when John retrieved it from under the bed. When he stripped away the cardboard and paper I saw the dildo was fashioned as a thick black cock with a curved shaft and a head of massive dimensions. It was even equipped with shiny smooth balls for the purpose of greater realism.

“It’s a fine weapon,” Margaret said. “And well named. I’d bet it is this young girl’s dream. Eh, puppy dog? Would you like the big cock in your pussy, juicy Bella?”

I saw she was tying the straps round her waist and soon the false penis was jutting from her loins looking hugely menacing. It was far bigger than the one Millie had used on me and I was scared that I would not be able to take it. I didn’t need to wait for an order, I simply turned my back on Margaret and offered my fuck-hole like the bitch I was. There was such excitement spreading my legs in this sluttish manner, behaving in such an unladylike way, being totally abandoned and debauched. It was clear just how much I had changed, Margaret was right. All the way from Little Miss Prim and Proper to dog-woman with voracious snatch.
Fuck me,
I wanted to shout,
Give it to me. Now!

I felt the huge head of the dildo push at my opening and I tensed a little in spite of wanting it but soon found there was sufficient juice there to ease its progress. I thought of battering rams attacking castle doors but none of the language of ancient battles was apposite. No battering ram received lubrication from the enemy. The stout wooden doors of real castles were not complicit in their own defeat. I welcomed my overthrow.

Yet metaphors of victory and defeat were not appropriate either.

My passage relaxed completely and moulded itself to the shape of the invading engine. Could an attack that was welcomed result in a victory for one over the other? Were not the two parties equally triumphant?

Perhaps this is high-flown language to describe what I felt. I felt like a vessel filled to overflowing. I felt replete. Satiated.

Once again John was required to play second fiddle to a dildo. When I’d been well fucked by Margaret, John took his turn but this time he chose the missionary position and I drew my knees back so he could push his cock up as far as possible. I gripped his muscular buttocks using my nails to scratch the tightened flesh and felt his cheeks rise and fall with the thrusting of his pelvis.

Then something came over me and I whispered in his ear, “Whip me again.” It was the strong urge to surrender myself to him that overwhelmed me. Spurious notions of equality had appealed when Margaret was using the dildo but with John I realised I wanted to submit, not to be equal. Once more it was a measure of the distance I had travelled since coming to Drydon Hall. I had a sudden image of John wielding the hairbrush and smacking Millie’s bottom and realised I’d felt jealous. This was the man who had treated me cruelly in training me as a puppy but he was also the man who had turned me from a girl into a woman when he deflowered me. I realised how much I craved his attention. I knew instinctively that John preferred to whip a woman than fuck her and I wanted to grant him his wish. I wanted him to favour me over Margaret and Millie or any other woman.

John could have shared with Margaret what I had whispered in his ear but he didn’t and my words had been too quiet for her to catch. I felt my heart leap with excitement when he told Margaret to go back to her bedroom.

Looking quite crestfallen, she gathered her night clothes and prepared to pull them on.

“Go now,” John ordered brusquely. “Dress outside.”

When Margaret had closed the door, John propped his head up with his elbow and looked at me with a sardonic smile as I lay beneath him.

“You spoke,” he said.

“I whispered, master.”

“I told you that speech was forbidden until I informed you otherwise. Do you think your dog-life is over?”

“That will be your decision, master,” I said.

“You may speak to me when we are alone, if you have anything useful to say, that is.”
 
His cock was still hard inside me and we moved slightly at just the same moment and I squirmed with pleasure.

“I worship you, master,” I said.

“I demand it.”

“And of Margaret and Millie?”

“Of course.”

“Who is the favourite of your three whores?”

“Perhaps I don’t have a particular favourite,” he said.

“I would do anything to be your chosen one.”

“My little poodle bitch.”

“Yes, master.”

“But you belong to Mr. Povey. You are his eyes.”

“I would rather you owned me, master.”

“What happened today that you came home with bite marks all over your body?”

I informed him how the three footmen had used me but in a matter of fact way knowing he would not appreciate any dramatics on my part.

“You should have told me as soon as it happened.”

“How could I, sir, when I am not allowed to speak?”

He moved inside me again, this time thrusting with his cock two or three times. He was just as hard as before.

“You’re too clever for your own good.”

“Would you have punished the three footmen, master?”

“Of course.”

“Does that mean you care for me?” I was risking a little coquettish behaviour, probably unwisely.

“I care if anyone takes my…er…
our
property,” he said. “It’s called theft.”

All the time we conversed I expected him to jump up from the bed at any moment and carry out my punishment and this Sword of Damocles lent a sense of danger. I dreaded an end to our intimacy but was excited at the thought of a good whipping at his hands, such are the contradictory thoughts we hold in our minds even in the same second.