"No, of course not, and I won't be carving on you either. You'll keep all your parts but they may not look as pretty as they do now. I doubt Sarah would ever want to see disfiguring torture, and I can't see doing that for anyone other than Sarah, but we have a little over two years of travel down a very nasty road ahead of us if you stay the course. It could happen and you might leave home looking like you've been in a car wreck. That's the worst case scenario. I pray it never gets that bad, but I want you mentally prepared in case it does.
"Now, here's something you have to consider.
I won't let you pick and choose. You'll take what I dish out or cry uncle. If you ever cry uncle, if you ever get serious and say you want to be left alone, we go back to the way things were and it will stay that way. No dogs, no sex, no nothing. You'll return to masturbation, but no one will bother you. I'll see to it. You will not be allowed to date while you live under my roof.
It's all or nothing, Heather. I'm serious. Do you understand?"
"Yes."
"Let me make one thing clear. When I want to hurt you, don't shy away, beg, plead, or defend yourself. You surrender the part I wish to torment and suffer through. Don't ever ask me to ease up or stop. Don't beg for mercy, just suffer.
Cry, grit your teeth, moan and groan, but never scream. Just suffer.
Suffer or quit totally. Those are your only options. Is that clear, crystal clear?"
Heather wore a somber expression as she said, "Yes. I know what you want from me. I'll do my best to suffer the way you want me to."
"I'm sure you will. There's a bit of masochist in you isn't there?"
"I believe so, more than a bit. Most of my fantasies involve cruelty and torture inflicted on me for someone else's pleasure. I get off on the fantasy."
"I think you'll find the reality a bit difficult while it's happening but exciting when reflecting on it. You'll carry a treasure chest of experiences to reflect on if you endure until you go off on your own, but it will come at a heavy price, and you may have scars to prove it. Let's just hope it doesn't get too bad. Your father will keep a lid on that activity, I'm sure. He won't see any of that, but he'll see the evidence. Don't let me catch you playing on his sympathies. Your attitude should be: It was no big deal. I'll be okay. I'm a masochist. I liked it. Understand?"
"Yes. I already told him I like to fantasize being tied up and whipped between my legs. I'll play that up so that he knows I'm a masochist and you're just giving me what I crave. I'll tell him I beg you to hurt me more, but you won't hurt me enough to satisfy me. I'll ask that he please stay out of it. Would that be good?"
"Excellent. Yes, you do that. I do believe you're going to be a brave little slut for Mommy, aren't you, Heather?"
"I will be if you'll get some dogs and make me be a good bitch and show everyone what a good bitch I am."
Sue smiled and said, "Sweetheart, I've already contracted for a kennel and Sarah and I have been scouting the dog pounds. We have three on reserve, but we plan to get six more.
Will that be enough to satisfy you?"
"Yes."
"You be a good slut for me and I'll make you wear a dog collar to school next year, all next year. Would you like that?"
"Yes, with a gold tag that says, 'BITCH'."
"I'll do better than that. I'll have it tattooed on your chest along with a scene of bestial mating, a very vulgar and graphic scene."
"Could you get away with that?"
"If we told a good story, we could. Over the summer, bikers kidnapped you and did that to you. They told you to wear the collar that goes with it or they'll kidnap you again and kill you. Until those animals are behind bars, we have no choice but to cooperate with their demands. They kidnapped you right out of our home with us in it. They could do it again.
If the school fights us, we'll sue the piss out of them. You have a right to a public education and they can't force you to jeopardize your life if they can't protect you."
"Wow, would that work?"
"Yes. It's been done. I've done my homework.
They can't even make you hide the tattoo or abide by the dress code if the kidnappers are still on the loose and demand you wear slut attire. As long as your genitals are covered, they can't say shit. You could attend classes in the tiniest string bikini ever made. That's been done, too, and we have an attorney that will cram their dress code up their prude asses. You could attend classes effectively naked. You'd love that, wouldn't you?"
"Oh god, yes! Mom, there is nothing you could do to me that would make me cry uncle, now. My pussy is your ashtray."
"I thought that would get you. Maybe, now, Sarah will get off my case about smoking. You'd better get a move on or you'll miss the bus."
Heather climbed out of bed, saying. "Yeah, I have to run."
"We won't be here when you get home. Sarah and I are driving to Austin to check out a special dog at their pound. We might get a hotel room. Then again, we might pop in on you and your father and surprise you. You never know."
Heather stopped at the door to her private bathroom to say, "We'll be sleeping in your bed. Who knows what might happen. If you surprise us, you'd better bring the collar and chastity girdle."
"You might be all alone tonight. He has orders to stay away until we return. I doubt that he will, but in any event, he has a place to go and something to do that will probably keep him out late."
Heather struck a provocative pose, jutting out her ass with a sexy wiggle, saying, "Something better than this?"
Sue smiled and threw a pillow, saying, "Get going, you sexy little slut, before I rape your cute little ass myself."
Heather teased, "Promises, promises. You're all talk."
Sue launched herself from the bed. Heather giggle screamed, jumped inside the bathroom, quickly shut the door, and locked it. Sue rolled to her back, leaning on the door with folded arms, smiling the smile of a child molester with the perfect child, which looks exactly like the smile of a proud mother. Sue was both.
Heather fell asleep in classes, and when awake was plagued by nasty thoughts.
With all there was to think about, and all of it being highly erotic, she was lucky the day was devoted to admin bullshit. She wouldn't have learned a thing otherwise; and for once, she looked forward to the bus ride home.
The last hour of her day was spent masturbating in the nude at her desk which was perched atop her teacher's desk, a bizarre way to spend a class hour but most satisfying for a devout exhibitionist in a classroom full of kids eager to see everything she had and a teacher with the hots for her.
She thought mostly about Harold and his family.
The mother intrigued her most of all, and Heather pegged her as a mousy Suzie Homemaker from a good Christian family, dragged into a bestial relationship by a horny dog and bossy husband.
The father she first pictured as a pot-bellied, beer-drinking, blue-collar trailer trash who was stuck in his adolescence sexually, but then she remembered they were near neighbors in a high six-figure North Dallas neighborhood. He had to be a successful something or other and brainy Harold Goldstein was his son. Apples don't fall far from the tree. She had to completely rework her image of the father.
Bill was Harold's ten-year-old brother. She knew him, or she'd at least seen him around. He seemed normal, not a stunted brain like Harold. Though three years apart in age, they were about the same size.
Ruff, she knew very well. Ruff was a beautiful dog, well kept, clean and groomed-a very horny dog that loved licking pussy and would lick very deep if the pussy had a wad of peanut butter in it. When Ruff was roaming free back in January, Heather saw him often, and usually saw him licking deep in her sprawled mother's twat because Sue liked calling Heather over and engaging her in idle chit chat when he came to visit.
Heather found it impossible not to look at the point of contact, and it was Ruff who broke the ice, the first dog sex she didn't run from, being forced to watch through the ruse of conversation. She now saw this as part of her mother's seduction and it worked. Watching Ruff and her mother made her a devout bestiality fan. Everything they did looked good, was highly visual, highly erotic, very stimulating, all of it: anal, vaginal, oral, and twat lapping. Ruff was a stud and fast learner.
Heather could just imagine what Harold's mother went through when Ruff returned home from a visit with a seasoned human bitch having learned a new trick.
Heather tried to imagine how a woman like Harold's mother would gradually succumb to a bestial seduction. It wasn't hard to imagine with a husband like Harold's father driving them together, forcing them to live in close proximity, and forcing her to wear vulnerable clothing. Wearing a dress in a house with Ruff was like wearing red in a bull pasture. The woman was as good as his bitch.
The puzzling question was why was she allowed to wear panties, an effective penetration block if he wanted his wife to be a bitch to amuse him and his boys. Without panties to block the way, they'd see full penetration intercourse, much more degrading to a wife and mother, much more amusing to watch.