Chapter 1

Janet awoke, terrified. She was in a darkened room, about 10 feet by 20 feet. No windows were visible in the gloom. She tried to remember how she arrived here, but her brain was foggy, confused. The last thing she could recall was walking across the parking lot to her car after a late-night study session at the campus library. She noticed she was still wearing the same clothes - jeans, a cotton blouse and a sweatshirt.

Now she was here, almost as if she had been magically transported. She was lying on a large four-poster bed. At the other end of the room was a shower, toilet and sink, which looked oddly out of place without any doors or walls around them. A heavy wooden door marked the only exit from the room.

Janet rose from the bed and started to explore her prison. Beyond the bath area, there wasn't much - just an armoire near the bed, a small table with two chairs, and a shelf along one wall. She moved closer and saw the shelf contained an ice bucket. She opened it and saw cool, clear water inside, with a ladle. She was suddenly very thirsty, so she drank some. It had an odd taste. She guessed it was well water. That might help her figure out where she was, she thought.

Before she could explore further, the lights came up. She froze in mid-step. The door at the far end creaked open. She waited nervously, looking for an escape. A large man walked in with a large black dog at his side. He had dark, wavy hair and might even be considered handsome, except for the unnaturally cruel expression on his face. He was dressed like a lumberjack, wearing an oversized plaid shirt over a blue tee-shirt and dirty jeans. His boots were old and scuffed.

Her eyes were jerked from his clothes to the object in his right hand. It appeared to be a riding crop - a stiff leather strap about 18 inches long, something she'd only seen a jockey use. Her stomach felt hollow as she contemplated its use.

Without preamble, he spoke to her. "When I come into the room, you are to stand naked before me."

Janet gasped and shrank back. "Please, no. L-l-let me go. I p-p-promise I won't tell anyone-".

Without another word, he stepped forward, grabbed her by the shoulder and spun her around, striking her hard several times with the crop on her ass and thighs. She screamed and dropped to the floor, trying to shield herself from the blows. Even through her clothes, the blows stung. Finally he stopped.

"When I come into the room, you are to stand naked before me," he repeated. As if for emphasis, the dog growled.

Shaking and bruised, she rose to her feet and began removing her clothes. In minutes, she was standing naked, just as he had ordered. He looked her up and down. She followed his gaze, and saw one of the blue-red welts where she had been struck on her hip. She shivered.

"If you do exactly what I say, you won't be beaten," he said, as if reading her mind. "You will find the rules here are not difficult to follow. You are my sex slave. That is your only function. Your name will be Slut. You may call me Sir or Master. If you please me, you will live in relative comfort. If you displease me, you will be beaten and quite possibly killed. The choice is yours."

His words landed like hammer blows to her heart. She felt nauseous and weak, as if she might faint. She tried to cover herself, but dropped her hands when he raised the whip.

"Don't ever cover yourself in my presence, Slut. You are to be totally naked. You will keep yourself clean." He pointed to the shower. Then he reached out casually with the stick and tapped her blond mound. Janet flinched. "You will keep this shaved. I will provide the equipment you need."

"P-p-please, mister-"

The whip cracked out almost nonchalantly and bit into her breasts. The fire took her breath away. She stepped back and brought her hands up to protect herself. "Don't speak unless spoken to," he warned. He waited, glaring at her, until she dropped her hands again to her sides.

From a pocket, he produced a small pair of scissors. "Here, you can use this to trim your pussy hair." From another pocket, out came a small electric razor. "This razor is battery powered. It's recommended for shaving around your cunt. When the batteries run down, I will replace them. Use this every day, Slut." He paused. "Of course, I can't trust you with a razor ... I'm sure you understand."

Numbly, she took the electric razor and the scissors. He waited, but she didn't move. "You may begin," he finally said, pointing with the whip to the bed. Shaking, she climbed up on the bed, holding her legs together as long as she dared. He reached over and for a moment, she thought he was going to strike her, but instead he turned on the bedside light with his left hand. "You need more light," he said simply.

Janet spread her legs just enough to gain access to her tuft of soft hair, then began trimming it with the scissors. Tears began to cloud her vision and she had to stop fearful she might pinch herself. She fully expected him to beat her, but instead, he gently took the scissors from her and began trimming the hair himself, pushing her legs apart so he could gain easy access to her. She held back her sobs as she lay there, spread wide before her tormentor as he carefully trimmed her downy pubic hair.

When he had it down to stubble, he put the razor into her hand and watched as she ran it over her mound and alongside her labia lips repeatedly until she was smooth. He was right, she had to admit, the razor worked well, and didn't pull any sensitive hairs. He leaned down and inspected her closely. The dog moved closer as well, sniffing the air. "Down, Turk," he said, and the dog moved back.

"Good," he said. "Now, it's time for you to learn your positions, Slut." Janet swallowed hard, trying to keep from vomiting. He paid no attention. "When I say Position One, you are to come to the bed and kneel up on your knees and your face flat on the sheets. Like this." He moved her into position crosswise on the bed as if she were a manikin. "Here, move your knees closer to the side of the bed. Yes, that's it. Now spread your legs further apart. " She knew she presented an obscene picture to him, her newly shaved vagina hanging out invitingly. She expected him to rape her right then and there, but he didn't. Instead, he just rubbed her ass gently for a moment.

"OK. When I say Position Two, you are to lay on the bed in the missionary position, except with your hands holding your knees up and apart, like this." Again he mechanically moved her into position until she was spread out like a cheap whore, her cleft presented to him.

"Good. Number Three is similar to that, except I want you down at the end of the bed, resting your legs up against the posts. Your ass should be hanging out over the edge."

Janet moved into position, afraid to challenge him. Once her legs were up, he grabbed her ankles and tied them into position into with straps hanging from eyelets screwed into the posts. "Don't worry," he said matter-of-factly, "I will handle the tying duties." He tied up her wrists as well with long straps to the posts at the other end until she was helpless.

Then he did something so totally unexpected, the girl gasped in shock - he tickled her! She was too stunned to react at first, then her ticklishness took over and she was soon screaming and writhing and giggling all at the same time. He just as suddenly stopped. "I see you're ticklish," was all he said. Janet was angry with herself for laughing. This man is sick, twisted - don't laugh at anything he does!

He untied her and brought her to her feet next to the bed. "When I say Position Four, I want you to drop immediately to your knees in front of me and pull out my cock and suck it. No matter where we are or what we're doing, OK?" She nodded. She never did like oral sex, and she wasn't sure if she could, even under threat of a whipping. She hoped he wouldn't ask her to do that now.

"Are you thirsty?" he asked suddenly.

She was taken aback for a moment, then realized how dry her mouth was. Was that a precursor to asking her to suck him? she wondered. Nervously, she nodded.

He went to a shelf and removed the ladle from an ice bucket and brought it to her. She drank gratefully.

Sir returned the ladle and went on as if there had been no interruption. "Position Five is similar to One except you aren't on the bed, you just drop where you are." Automatically, she dropped into position, her head low, only to have him stop her. "No, no. I want you to present your ass to me, not your head." She turned around and placed her head against the carpet, her ass high. She immediately heard the dog growl. "Wait, Turk." To the girl, he said, "As you can see, this position is for Turk. I urge you not to move, as he tends to bite."

Janet couldn't believe what she was hearing. He was going to let the dog ...??

As if in answer to her question, she felt the dog's paws on her back. She looked around to see that he had mounted her as if she were a bitch. She stared at his very large, thick penis extending out from his furry sheath. "No! Please!" she shouted. The man had apparently been waiting for her outburst. In an instant, he had pulled the dog from her and began beating her with the riding crop. She screamed and curled up into a ball. Again and again the blows rained down on her.

"Position Five!" He barked and she scrambled onto her knees again, trembling. This time she didn't move as the dog mounted her. She didn't look back as he began to pump up against her ass. She could feel his glistening penis bounce against her dry vagina.

"Looks like you aren't wet enough," the man said. "That will change, I can assure you, Slut. Soon you will be dripping in anticipation of Turk's approach. For now, though, I want you to spit on one hand and work it into your cunt."

Crying, she did so, trying not to get her hand in the way of Turk's thrusting cock. "Pull your lips apart, Slut," the man ordered, and Janet obeyed, tears falling freely from her face. The dog penis began to slip into her. She could really feel it - it was nearly as large as a man's. She brought her hand back down to support herself. Despite her instructions, she tried to edge away, but the man tapped her head with the crop and she quit moving. Now the cock was thrusting well into her, the dog's forelegs gripping her hard at the hips. She could hear him panting, his tongue hanging out. She felt slightly dizzy. Despite her revulsion, the whole experience was somehow grotesque and stimulating at the same time.

The dog's stamina was incredible. He pumped and pumped, his thick meat tickling her clitoris, the knot banging at her opening. She could feel the first stirrings of an orgasm, which completely shocked her. At first, she tried to fight it, but eventually her libido took over. Soon she found herself pushing back against Turk's thrusts. Her nipples extended into hard points and she rubbed them against the carpet.

"Oh, oh, oh - " She could feel the oncoming rush and forgot all about her terrible situation. All she wanted to do was come. Please, let me come. Suddenly, the dog thrust tight up against her, his knot expanding into her as his seed spilled into her womb. It was enough to send her over the edge. She bellowed like a bitch in heat and came.

"OH GOD! GOD!" Janet felt woozy, unable to move. The dog was stuck to her for a few minutes until he could pull his knot free. Then he began to lick her clean. Her clit was almost too sensitive. "Wait, wait," she said. If he gave her a minute to recover, she thought she might come again. Why was this happening?

"Position One!" the man said, and the girl, despite herself, immediately got up on the bed on her hands and knees, spreading her legs wide and laid her head on the covers. She could feel the dog's sperm dribbling out of her cunt. Yes, cunt. She could no longer think of it as something as formal as a vagina - she was a dog's cunt, to be fucked whenever he wanted.

She heard the sound of a zipper and the man moved up against her. She could feel his cock slipping into her. It was a lot bigger than the dog's. He began to fuck her, slowly at first, then faster. She felt another orgasm building immediately.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god," she gasped as he held onto her hips and thrust hard into her wide-open pussy. "Please, please, please-" She wasn't even sure what she was saying, she only knew she had to let that orgasm rip through her again. She matched his thrusts, just as she had done for the dog. She was no longer a young woman, she was only cunt, a large, grasping, gaping cunt that needed to be filled. He lasted almost as long as the dog had before he gasped aloud and pushed tight against her ass. She could feel his seed squirt into her and on the second squirt, she came in a glorious rush. She almost passed out. "Oh god, oh god, oh god..." she whispered as the orgasm ebbed.

"Position Four!" he barked. Any good feelings she had vanished. Moving as quickly as her numb body would allow, she climbed off the bed and dropped to her knees in front of the man's now-flaccid cock. "Suck it clean," he ordered.

Janet was grossed out. Not only was he covered in her juices mixed with his, but the dog's as well! She reached for it, and began to gag. She fought to keep her gorge down. She knew what was in store for her. The hiss of the riding crop cut the air and the blows began raining down on her shoulders, back and even on her tender ass. To cut the beating short, she grabbed his cock and thrust it into her mouth. He stopped in mid-strike and allowed her to minister to his limp penis. Fighting down the urge to gag, she licked him clean, swallowing the sticky fluids.

When she was finished, he stepped back and zipped up. "You did well for the first day, Slut. I will leave you now to get cleaned up. In the closet" - he pointed to the armoire- "you will find some robes that you may wear when I'm not present." He scooped up her clothes and left, Turk trotting quietly beside him, looking pleased with himself.

Once the door closed, she ran to the toilet and threw up, then washed her mouth out with water from the faucet. She took a shower, washing herself thoroughly, as if she was afraid of what the man's - or the dog's - sperm might do to her. Did he have AIDS? Can you catch some rare sexual disease from a dog? She didn't know and it gnawed at her. She also knew that this was just the beginning of her ordeal. She had to find a way out.

After drying off and donning a silk robe, she realized she was hungry. The man said he would bring her meals, but there was nothing in the room to eat. Did he forget? Or was he punishing her for some reason? She drank some more water from the jug, making a face at the slight metallic taste.

Janet began exploring the room again, looking for chinks in her prison. The door was solid oak, with a heavy lock that she knew she couldn't defeat. There were no windows and the walls were made out of cinderblock. She couldn't even feel any air around the mortar, which meant either the walls were very thick and very well made or she was ... underground. Another shudder ran through her as she thought about what that meant. She was already in her grave.

She knew then that the only way out was through the man - and the dog.

After a few hours, the lights in the room dimmed. She wondered if that was his way of telling her when it was dark out, to keep her biological clock set. That might be helpful later, although she wasn't sure how she might take advantage of it. Exhausted, she crawled into bed and fell into a fitful sleep.

Chapter 2

When she awoke, she noticed the lights were brighter, so she assumed they were coordinated to the day/night cycle. She heard the thump of the door and she initially cowered under the covers, still dressed in her robe, but when the door was flung open, she remembered his explicit instructions. She scrambled from the bed, shedding her robe, and stood before him in the nude, arms at her sides. Turk was with him again, she was sorry to see. She might be able to overcome him alone, but never he and the dog together.

"Good," he said. "You learn quickly." At that moment, her stomach growled noisily. She froze, fearful that that was against the rules somehow.

"You're hungry." She nodded. "You can eat after exercise." Exercise! "I don't want you to get fat here," he added. "Would you like a drink first?" She nodded, afraid to speak. She had to pee, but she didn't know how to tell him without suffering a beating. He retrieved a ladle of water from the bucket and helped her to drink it.

Returning the ladle, he told her to turn around and put her hands behind her. He fastened leather bracelets to each wrist, then clipped her wrists together. Then she felt him fasten a collar around her neck. Now she was just another dog to him, the bastard. He attached a dog's leash to the front of the collar and jerked it. "Come," was all he said.

Janet followed him out the door, trying to gather as much information as she could about this mysterious place she had been taken to. Outside the cell door, she realized her suspicions were correct - they were in a dimly lit cellar. Stairs led up from the middle of the room. She trotted along behind him, Turk at her side. The dog seemed to have taken ownership of her just as much as the man had.

Upstairs, she was surprised to find the door opened into a storage room of what appeared to be a stable, not Sir's house. There was some hay on the floor and the area was redolent with the odor of manure. Along one wall were a variety of dangerous-looking whips, chains, fasteners and other devises of torture. He stopped and pointed. "Don't try to run away or you'll get a taste of these - after Turk runs you down."

She almost felt relieved because her first thought was that this would be a routine part of her ordeal here. She looked at the dog and saw that his large penis was partially out of his sheath. God, she thought, not again. Yet there was a part of her that was vaguely stimulated by the idea. What's wrong with me?

He led her out into the main stable area, and she could see stalls for at least four horses. Noises told her most, if not all, of the stalls were occupied. From another wall, the man took down some leather apparatus and indicated that the girl should turn around. She did so, and he unhooked her wrists, then began buckling her into the straps. A large belt went around her waist, while two crossing straps went between her breasts and up over her shoulders. She could feel him buckling it into place behind her to the back of the belt. She had no idea what he was doing, but she had a feeling she wasn't going to like it. Again, she wanted to ask him for permission to urinate, but held off. Maybe she could make it back to her room.

Once he had her fastened to his satisfaction, he led her outside. She was nervous, being outside naked except for this strange get-up that didn't cover her at all. Turk, she saw, followed her every step. She looked around, trying to get her bearings. If she could discover a clue to her whereabouts, she might be able to use that somehow. She was disappointed to see that the ranch was surrounded by trees, limiting her vision. The barn apparently blocked her view of the man's house as well. Nor could she see any mountains that might give her a clue as to where she had been taken.

He jerked on the chain, leading her to a small cart with two large wooden wheels. Pulling her to the front, he fastened her in. My god! She was being treated like a horse. He wants me to pull the cart, she thought. Wooden tongues a little larger than the handles from hoes extending from underside the cart were attached to the large rings on the leather waist of her gear. He clipped rings on her bracelets to rings on the wooden posts, forcing her to grab the handles. He unhooked the dog leash. "Open up," he said, and she realized he was fitting a bit into her mouth! It was made of rubber, so she could bite down on it without hurting her teeth, but she couldn't close her mouth, either. Reins led from the bridle to the cart. She felt the weight shift as he climbed into it.

"Gidiyap!" he said, cracking a whip near her shoulders. She jerked and found the cart didn't want to move. Straining, she didn't think she was strong enough, then the whip cracked against her ass and she leaped forward, taking the cart with her.

Once she got it moving, it was easier to keep it up, she found. The track ahead of her was well marked, and she couldn't help wonder how many other poor unfortunate girls had to endure this indignity. When they came to a turn, a jerk of the reins indicated which path she should take. Sweat was already pouring out of her skin. She hauled the cart for about a quarter mile, traveling roughly in a circle near the barn, with Turk running alongside, before she was completely exhausted. He had to keep whipping her hindquarters to keep her moving. Finally, she collapsed into a heap in the dirt, gasping, drenched in sweat. Her bladder let go, and she splashed urine in a puddle between her shaking legs. She felt like a dirty animal. She waited for the whip, but it didn't come.

"Not bad for a first outing, Slut," he said from close by, causing her to jump in fear. "Some of the girls are in such bad shape they can't go 100 yards." She couldn't answer, so she just gasped, rivulets of sweat cutting paths through the dust. "You can rest a minute. You almost made it over the smallest circuit, which is about a half-mile. It won't be long until you can haul this a mile or more. We'll go back and I'll introduce you to Thor, then you can get cleaned up and have something to eat."

Her heart thudded in her chest as she wondered who or what Thor was and what he wanted with her. She was too tired to think about it.

After she had regained her breath, he let her head back to the barn, although at a much slower pace, she was grateful to see. Back inside, he unhooked the sweaty equipment, reattached the dog leash and led the now compliant girl deeper into the barn. He ladled water from a pail hanging from the wall and Janet drank gratefully. Sir grabbed a hose and sprayed the sweat from the leather harness, then sprayed the dirt off her. She enjoyed the blast of cool water. "Turn around," he ordered, and she did, allowing the water to clean her off.

He shut off the water and pulled her over to one of the stalls. "Meet Thor," he said. The girl gasped. Thor was a magnificent black stallion, rearing and snorting in his stall. The man opened the gate and she could see that Thor's stall was almost double in size of a regular one, with an object at one end that looked to her like a pommel horse, something you'd find at a gymnastic event. She was afraid of the beast and tried to shy away, but the man just jerked her chain harder and led her to the apparatus. Without a word, he fastened the dog's leash to the base of the device, which forced her head down below the level of the top. Before she could react, he tied her hands to thick wooden dowels that stuck out from the bottom the pommel horse, giving her something to hold onto. Finally, he reached down and tied her legs to rings that folded up from the cement floor that was covered in hay. Her legs were pulled wide apart.