Career Change
Posted: 09 Feb 2020, 20:56
Just something I dreamt up and posted on Gromet's Plaza. Slightly different from previous efforts.
CAREER CHANGE
What the hell have I done? How could I have been so trusting and yet so stupid at the same time? I know it’s far too late for regrets, and I have only myself to blame for the situation I now find myself in.
I had just turned 20 when I landed a job with a small firm in the north of England. My boss, Hazel Hunter, was an attractive 30 year old and it soon became obvious that she was a lesbian. It also soon became obvious that she was paying me a lot of attention. Once I had recovered from the shock and surprise, I found myself drawn to her and enjoyed the attention she gave me. I had only been working there for about three months when, one Monday morning, Hazel announced that she was selling the business. Everyone else would receive a generous payout, but as I had only been there for such a short period, I knew that I wasn’t entitled to anything. However, Hazel called me into her office and asked if I would be interested in a change of career.
“It’s a rather unusual position,” she said with a smile. Sadly for me, I wasn’t looking or I might have seen the look in her eyes.
“In what way is it unusual?” I asked.
Hazel smiled. “Well Carol, as you don’t have any family I was wondering if you would like to come stay with me as a kind of live in companion.”
“Kind of?” I replied, thinking back over the past three months. Hazel had taken every opportunity to touch or hug me.
Hazel’s smile widened. “Actually, I was thinking of you more as a little pet.”
I could only respond “Oh!”
“You would live with me but with certain conditions.”
“Such as?”
“You would remain naked at all times and obviously, you would not be allowed to leave the house.”
Hazel continued. “I will look after you and care for you just like a pet. However, as my pet you would be kept isolated from the outside world.”
Being kept isolated didn’t really bother me as I had no family or even close friends, a fact that I knew Hazel was aware of. Nevertheless, I felt a strange thrill run through me. She had just practically said that I would be kept a prisoner in her house, yet I didn’t feel any fear or even worry. In fact, I thought it more than a little kinky and had to stop myself laughing out loud in case Hazel thought I was laughing at her. I was sent away to think about it, and nothing was said for the rest of the week. On the Friday afternoon I was called into her office and asked for my decision.
“Well, it’s coming on for winter and I don’t fancy wandering the streets looking for a job, so yes Hazel. I’ll be your pet.”
Just like that, I had committed myself to the unknown. Sadly, I trusted Hazel to look after me.
As soon as work finished, I was taken by Hazel to the small flat I rented and she helped me pack up my few belongings, loaded them and me into her car and drove to her isolated house. On the way, she told me that she had already been in touch with the company I had rented the flat from and settled everything. It was apparent that from the very start, that my life was going to be controlled, yet I still felt no worry.
Her control over me started as soon as we entered her house as I was told, ordered really, to strip. Hesitantly, I did so feeling very self conscious at being naked in front of her, but by the end of the weekend, I had become used to it. We spent the weekend relaxing, watching TV or just talking, and it wasn’t until much later that I realised just how much of my private life Hazel was able to get out of me. On the Monday, while Hazel was out, I was free to explore the house, including the cellar that was accessed by a small elevator. The only item down there was an incinerator and that evening, Hazel explained that the house was once owned by a vet who used this place to treat the animals. The incinerator was used to dispose of any animal that had to be put down.
“It’s still in full working order,” Hazel went on. “I use it to get rid of all kinds of things.”
Her tone of voice should have warned me, but I was still thinking that this was still just a kinky game.
After dinner on the Monday night, I once again started to help clear up, but Hazel stopped me just as she had every night.
“Oh no my dear. I’ve told you, you’re not here as a maid but my companion.” She paused and smiled. “Like I said, I would like to think of you as my pet.”
I laughed and replied,
“Oh? Do I have to wear a collar?”
The expression that crossed Hazel’s face was too fleeting for me to register, buts she responded,
“Well, as you keep trying to help, I was thinking of a little something else to discourage you.”
The little something turned out to be a set of steel ankle shackles that only allowed me a step of about 9 inches and a set of hinged handcuffs that held my hands in front of me.
“There, that should keep you from helping. Now come into the lounge.”
Once there, Hazel settled herself in a comfortable chair and I was made to kneel beside her. As she listened to some music, Hazel would gently stroke my hair, then her fingers would slide down the side of my face then my neck. I suddenly realised that I was leaning against her, my head resting on her leather skirt, eyes closed and enjoying her caresses.
At bedtime, I slept in a bed that was built under Hazel’s. The top, bottom and sides were made from steel bars and once I had slid into the bed, the entrance was then closed and locked then Hazel would settle herself in bed, read for a while then settle down. I struggled to sleep for the first couple of nights but then grew accustomed to these strange sleeping arrangements and still thinking this was some kind of kinky game, slept soundly thereafter.
For the next few weeks, I lived naked and chained. When Hazel was out I was able to watch TV, listen to the radio or just wander around, but when Hazel was there, I had to follow her around and had to either sit or kneel beside her when she was sitting. I was fed by Hazel at mealtimes as she refused to release my hands from behind my back. She did comment about getting a couple of dog bowls so I could feed myself and at other times she said she would have to get me a collar. At the time I thought she was joking. I know better now.
The change came after about four weeks. It was just after dinner one evening when Hazel told me that she had something for me. I guessed that it was bondage related so wasn’t surprised when I was told to go and make sure my bowels and bladder were empty. What did surprise me was that Hazel removed the restraints I had been wearing, so I wondered what was coming.
“Right Carol, before we go any further I will ask you once again, are you still willing to be my pet?”
Standing in front of her, naked, I thought back over the past few weeks. On the forth night of sleeping under Hazel’s bed, she had caught me pleasuring myself. As a result, my hands had been cuffed behind my back during the day and at night my ankle hobble was locked to the bars at the foot of my bed and my cuffed hands to the top of my bed. In addition, Hazel had then said that I was to address her as ‘Mistress’. Despite all this happening, I still trusted her.
“Do you want me to be your pet?” I asked.
“Oh, very much so, my dear,” she replied, and sadly I didn’t pay any attention to her tone of voice. Maybe if I had, things would have turned out differently. Instead, still thinking I was playing some kind of kinky game of Hazel’s, I responded,
“Then Mistress, I’ll be happy to remain as your pet.”
Hazel then produced a complete set of restraints and chains. The cuffs and belt looked like leather, but had a strange metallic feel to them. There was also a set of mitts made from the same material that were pulled over my hands and wrists. I found that my fingers were held together and I could not bend them. Also, my thumb was held against the palm of my hand, and looking at the mitts, I thought that my hands now looked more like paws. Before I could make a comment, Hazel then secured the cuffs round my wrists effectively locking the mitts in place. The remaining cuffs were locked round my ankles and round my arms, just above my elbows, and although they all fitted tightly, they ‘gave’ slightly when I flexed my hands and arms or bent my feet. The belt, which was about 7 or 8 inches deep, and was more like a waist cincher, was next locked round my waist and reduced my waist measurement by about two inches. Chains were locked to the cuffs joining my elbow cuffs to the waist belt and I found that I could no longer raise my arms above my head. I was then ordered to kneel and more chains were then locked between my ankle cuffs and waist belt and I found I was now held on my hands and knees just like an animal. She then buckled a 1 inch leather collar round my neck and I found myself thinking, “I’ve just become her doggie!” I was grateful that I have small breasts, because if they had been any larger, I would have found moving around even more uncomfortable and embarrassing.
I spent the rest of the day moving round the house on my hands and knees, and in the evening lying at my mistress’s feet then sleeping in the under bed cage. Once I was in my cage, my wrist cuffs were locked to my collar and I learned to sleep like that. I don’t think there was any reason for this apart from emphasising just how helpless I had become. Next day, before leaving the house, Hazel attached a dog leash to my collar and led me outside into the garden where I was made to ‘go’. It was bitterly cold outside which encouraged me to squat and pee like a bitch, before being brought back into the kitchen. There was a large dog bed there and I was made to climb onto it whereupon Hazel locked my collar to a four foot length of chain that was securely fastened to a fitting in the wall. My astonished cry of “Mistress?” was greeted by her saying,
“Bye bye pet. See you tonight.”
I spent a boring day chained to the wall. My restraints kept me from stretching my legs and my mitts would not allow me to free myself from the collar. I had a bowl of water if I was thirsty, but only sipped at it because I was frightened that I would need to pee. Somehow, I felt that Hazel would not be happy if I wet my bed. I was already house trained and didn’t realise it. Although I was warm and relatively comfortable, the novelty of being kept like a pet animal was starting to wear off, but when Hazel returned that night, my pleas for release were ignored. Instead, my collar was released from the chain after she clipped the dog leash to it before leading me back outside in the cold and dark to relieve myself again. I was secured with the chain again while Hazel prepared dinner and my dinner was served to me in a metal dog bowl, but only after my mistress had made and eaten her own meal. After eating, I was taken back into the lounge.
“Please Mistress,” I begged. “Let me stretch my legs, if nothing else.”
“Oh hush pet,” was the gentle reply. “You’ll soon get used to it.”
Get used to it? How long was she planning to keep me like this? Suddenly, the game wasn’t a game any longer. Looking up I said,
“Look Hazel, I’m sorry but I don’t want to play this game any longer. Just take these cuffs and things off me, I’ll get dressed and leave.”
Hazel leaned down, patted me on the head and said,
“Oh dear, I’ve gone and upset you, and I don’t want that. Let me try something first then you can tell me what you think.”
Removing the leather dog collar I had been wearing, she slipped a 2 inch wide collar round my neck and I heard and felt the click as it locked. It was made from the same material as my restraints but was slightly thicker and I felt slight protrusions on each side of my throat. They weren’t uncomfortable, but they were noticeable. However, I had decided that enough was enough. I had been happy to play as her pet, even to the point of acting like a dog and being taken out in the cold to pee, but this was too much. I opened my mouth to tell her that I’d had enough, or rather tried to. Although my mouth worked, no sound came out. Hazel clapped her hands and gave an excited little scream.
“Yes! It works.”
In response to my amazed look she started to stroke my hair and went on,
“That collar is designed to keep the wearer silent. I have no idea how it works. Some sort of electronic trickery and, what was the phrase that was used? Oh yes, anti-phase. I have no idea how it works, but it means that whenever you try to make a sound, the device in that collar cancels it out.”
I knelt there, stunned. How was I going to get out of here? If anyone came to the front door, I knew that I would probably be chained in the kitchen, and now I couldn’t even shout for help. Hazel bent down and clipped a dog leash to the front of the collar then continued to stroke my hair as she went on.
“As you’re now my pet, you need a new name. Carol is a girl’s name, a human name. You are now my pet animal, so what shall I call you?”
I tried to move away, pull free, anything, but Hazel simply gave the leash she was holding a sharp tug, and I found that the collar acted like a choke chain, cutting off my breath. I forced myself to relax and Hazel released the tension on the leash, allowing me to breathe again.
“There, that’s better, isn’t it? A pet should always be obedient and submissive to her Mistress, shouldn’t she? Oh I know, I’ll call you Petra. That’s a nice name for an obedient bitch.”
She smiled down at me and then in a quiet voice continued,
“I’ve been looking for someone like you for a long time, so do you really think that having got you here and locked in my chains I would ever consider letting you go?”
She smiled at the shocked expression on my face as she went on,
“If you had refused to continue, I would have offered you a drugged drink and when you woke up, you would have found yourself in an even more strict form of restraint. You couldn’t have left anyway, because you’ve nothing to wear. All your clothes and other things have already been put through the incinerator.”
I stared at her, shocked, as she continued,
“Doggies don’t wear clothes and don’t own anything, so there was no need to keep anything, was there? Oh Elizabeth will be please to see you.”
‘Elizabeth? Who the hell is Elizabeth? Before I could make any response, Hazel stood up and called out, “Petra. Heel,” gave a sharp tug on my leash, and I was forced to follow her on my hands and knees, while trying to work out what was happening to me. I had started the day playing a kinky game, but now? Still struggling to comprehend, I followed, trying not to get choked as we headed for the elevator and went down into the cellar. I wondered what Hazel was up to as she walked up to a blank wall and started to manipulate several of the bricks. There was a click and a section of the wall swung open to reveal a short concrete lined corridor with a smooth laminate wood floor and I could see a steel door at the other end.
Still on hands and knees, I scrabbled along behind Hazel, still trying to prevent myself being choked. The concealed entrance had swung closed behind us and as Hazel reached the steel door, she opened a small panel to reveal a keypad, entered a code and the door swung open. We went through and the door closed and I heard a clunk as it locked. In front of us was another steel door and as Hazel repeated the operation with a keypad, she announced in a conversational tone,
“As a security measure, the doors will automatically close and lock and one door will not open unless the other one is locked shut. As a further measure, the doors also have different codes on each side.”
She meant that each door had a different code to open it from the inside and outside. Two doors, four codes. Without the codes, anyone who succeeded in getting through one door would then be trapped between the doors, and unless somebody came, the trapped person would probably starve to death.
We went through and I found myself in a long corridor, also with the same laminate wood flooring, which was just a swell as I scrabbled along on my hands and knees. One side of the corridor was a plain concrete wall with low level lighting set near the floor, but on the other side was a series of, I could only describe them as cells. The first four were each about 8 foot deep by 6 foot wide. The back and sides were pink painted concrete but the front was made up of vertical steel bars set about 4 inches apart, while the wooden flooring continued into these cells. Set at the end of the bars alongside one of the side walls, was a barred gate. The last cell had a solid wall with an ordinary door in it.
As Hazel continued to lead me down the corridor, she talked and acted as if she was leading a guided tour.
“When this place was being used by the vet, he used these bays to store any drugs or chemicals to reduce the risk of theft. Before him, this place was built by a survivalist, and I’ve always wondered if he was kinky like me and wanted to keep his own pets down here. When I saw them I knew that they would make excellent kennels.”
She went on, “The people who fitted out this area and installed the steel doors also built the concealed entrance. I’ve checked with the local authority and it seems that the survival nut built this place without telling anyone. There are no records that this place even exists.”
When we reached the end of the corridor, I saw that there were two more steel doors, both also keypad operated. Hazel opened one door and led me inside to what was a multigym. There were various pieces of apparatus scattered around, but in the middle of the room was a large treadmill with pieces of thick perspex alongside the actual part that moved. They were the length of the treadmill and about 2 foot high.
“Obviously I can’t take you out for walkies,” Hazel said, “so this is designed to give you all the exercise you’ll need as well as keeping you safe.” She laughed. “While you’re going walkies, Elizabeth or I can get exercise too, so in a way, we’ll be taking the dog out for a walk after all.”
Again, I wondered who Elizabeth was, but I was more concerned with getting out of here. I tried to say or do something, but my chains kept me on my hands and knees and my collar kept me silent. Hazel acted as if she hadn’t noticed.
“Right Petra, let’s show you next door.”
I was led through an adjoining door into what was a luxuriously furnished lounge. After being on my hands and knees for so long, the deep piled carpet felt so soft against my skin. Looking round, I saw that there was a large home entertainment system and I worked out that the other steel door at the end of the corridor would allow entry to this place. Hazel continued,
“People believe I often have to go away on business, sometimes for several days, but I’m actually down here where I can relax. Looking down at me, she smiled,
“And now I have a pet of my own to keep me company.”
I was horrified. I had started what I thought was a harmless but kinky game and now found myself restrained, silent and practically helpless at the hands of a madwoman. Everything I owned, clothes, tablet, phone and everything else that I had brought with me, including my birth certificate, passport and everything that identified me as a person, had been destroyed in the incinerator. I knew I had to escape, but how? Looking round, I could see nothing that would help me get out of these chains, but my situation was then made worse.
“Right Petra, time to settle you for the night. Tomorrow we have a lot to do before I can relax with you.”
I was led out of another steel door, and found I was right about where it led as I found myself back in the corridor. Pulling me along, Hazel stopped at the second cell, and producing a key, unlocked the gate and dragged me in. Alongside one wall in the far corner was a wooden frame with a large soft padded cushion resting on it. I was made to get onto the cushion and lie down and Hazel then proceeded to clip my collar to a steel chain set in the wall, and looking at it, I realised that I would not be able to get off the cushion. Once again, my wrists were locked to my collar.
“Good night pet, see you in the morning,” said Hazel as she left the cell, then closed and locked the gate. She walked away and I heard the sound of the steel door opening then closing. Shortly afterwards, the lights went out and the only illumination came from the dim lights set near the floor on the opposite side of the corridor from the cells.
I struggled to get free, but failed miserably. Even if my hands weren’t held hard up to my neck, the mitts on them would have prevented me from unclipping the chain from my collar. When I tried tugging on the chain, I only succeeded in choking myself as the collar tightened. The thought that even if I could somehow free myself I still had to get through a locked gate then two security coded steel doors overcame me and defeated, I lay there and let the tears flow.
I was woken up by the lights coming on followed by the sound of a door opening and then voices. Hazel appeared with another woman and I was introduced to Elizabeth, who was, in fact, Hazel’s partner and lover. Hazel explained,
“Elizabeth has to go away on business quite often, so she suggested I get a pet to keep me company when she’s away.”
Elizabeth then added, with a smile,
“And she’s found herself a really beautiful pet. I’m impressed,” she said as she turned and kissed Hazel.
The door to my kennel cell was unlocked, Elizabeth entered and released my hands from my collar, clipped a leash to my collar before unclipping the chain that held me to the wall. While Hazel went further down the corridor, Elizabeth knelt down and cupped my face in her hands.
“If you’re a good bitch and behave, I promise to be good and gentle with you, but if you misbehave, then I will punish you very severely and there will be a great deal of pain involved. Understand?” She looked me in the eyes as she went on, “Will you behave?” Trembling with fear at the situation I now found myself in, I nodded my submission. “Good girl.” Standing, she gave the leash a tug and then called, “Petra. Heel.” And I was led out of what was now my kennel, crawling on my hands and knees for the start of what was to become a routine.
The plain door was now open and I was led into what was a toilet and wet room. My leash was secured to a ring in the far wall and I was then given an enema. As if being treated like some kind of animal wasn’t humiliating enough, this was too much and the tears once again started to flow. However, the collar kept my cries of misery silent. After being cleaned out, the area was cleaned then I was showered then left as warm air was blown over me to dry me. In the days, weeks and months to come, this would be where I was usually taken to relieve myself, and I never again had to worry about doing a poo, as the daily enemas took care of that.
When I was dry, I was taken into the lounge area and made to lie at Hazel’s and Elizabeth’s feet while they discussed what they would do with me. I lay there horrified as Elizabeth bent down, stroked the mitts on my hands and turned to look up at Hazel.
“I know a good surgeon who could remove the need for those mittens.”
“Oh? How so?” was Hazel’s reply.
“She can amputate the fingers. Just the first two segments and all of the thumb. That way, Petra will have proper paws.”
I thought I was going to be sick as I listened, but fortunately, my stomach was empty. Hazel seemed to consider the matter then responded.
“No Elizabeth, I don’t think so. I like the way they look and it helps remind her of her status now.”
Looking down at my fear filled face, she went on. “However, if our little bitch turns out to be rebellious and disobedient, then I’ll probably have to reconsider.” Turning back to Elizabeth she asked, “What about her hair. It’s going to grow. Should we shave her head?”
“No” was the reply, we’ll keep it trimmed though. I like the feel of it running through my hands.
So my new life began. I would be exercised on a regular basis on the treadmill. My collar is locked to the machine and I move on my hands and knees as the machine runs. I can move at a fair pace now. I spend a lot of time with either Hazel or Elizabeth in the lounge area. I will be allowed up onto the sofa and I lie there, my head on my Mistress’s lap as she strokes me. I’m completely broken now, with no thought of rebellion. The one time I tried to resist, I received a thrashing on my backside from a leather belt. When taking me anywhere, they no longer use a leash. They don’t need to. I walk at heel, sit, stay, beg, give a paw or lie down, just as I am commanded.
It has become Hazel and Elizabeth’s custom, when I’m allowed in the lounge area, to lock my hands to my collar and shorten my ankle chains so that I have to ‘walk’ on my knees and elbows. I suppose I should be grateful they don’t leave me like that all the time, but I just feel even more miserable and humiliated.
I have often been locked in a cage in the lounge while Hazel and Elizabeth make love, and the sights and sounds leave me feeling frustrated as I can’t even pleasure myself. However, one day Elizabeth was sitting naked in the lounge having just had a shower. I had been allowed to wander round when she called me over to her. A ring gag was strapped between my teeth and my head pulled between her legs. I had never licked a woman’s pussy before but I was encouraged to perform as Elizabeth used a leather belt on my backside. I have learned my lessons and can now bring either Mistress to a climax. These days, I am sometimes rewarded with an orgasm of my own. However, I have to earn it and lie there, on my back, limbs in the air as Hazel or Elizabeth, or sometimes both, use a variety of toys to force one climax after another out of me.
I’ve no idea how long I’ve been here. The days, weeks and months have blended into one another. There is just the here and now. I struggle to try and remember my life before coming here, but it gets harder and harder to recall any memories. I am sometimes taken upstairs and when the weather is warm and dry, I’m taken into the secluded back garden. My collar is linked to a twenty foot chain and I’m free to wander round, my collar ensuring my continued silence. I have even been left there while Hazel and Elizabeth have gone out. If it rains, there is a large dog kennel for me to shelter in. I look forward to these days as it is the only time I see daylight. I will just lie there in the grass enjoying the various scents and watching the birds flying about. However, in the winter months I dread being forced to go outside. If Hazel or Elizabeth even think I should pee, they will open the back door and force me outside then leave me locked out until they think I’ve had enough time to pee.
I am also sometimes allowed to stay with whomever is there in the evenings, although surprisingly, it’s often Elizabeth that likes to have me lying at her feet. I sometimes get treats. Chocolate, candy, things like that, but I have to sit up and beg for them. To my shame, I will do this without any hesitation. They can be cruel, usually by ignoring the fact that I am a human, but treat me just like an animal. When they are in a good mood, I am often made to lie down while one or other massages perfumed cream into my skin, and the only time I see my fingers is when Hazel trims my nails. I forget what tea and coffee tastes like. At least I get the same food as my owners, even if it is served in a metal dog bowl, and I sometimes get flavoured water to drink. The only other concessions to my humanity are that someone brushes my teeth for me, and during my periods, I wear a sanitary pad held in place with a disposable adult diaper. I suspect this isn’t for my benefit, but to save them from having to clean up any mess.
However, for the vast majority of time, I’m left locked in my cell, chained to the wall and kept silent by my collar. Elizabeth once asked Hazel how often the batteries in my collar had to be changed, and I thought that I would finally get a chance to beg or plead for release, but my hopes were dashed as Hazel explained,
“They don’t need replacing. They use what’s called contactless charging. The charger is under her bed and as she’s chained to the wall, she can’t move away.
My kennel is warm as I lie here in the dim light, a chained and silent bitch. If I were suddenly to find myself free of all restraints, I doubt if I would be able to stand and I often wonder if I would be able to talk, and I don’t think I would be able to control my bowels any more. At night, lying in the silence, I sometimes wonder how much longer I will live here like this. From their conversations when Hazel and Elizabeth thought I was sleeping in my cage, I know that one day I’ll either become too old to look after or become ill. When that situation arises, they will find a replacement for me and I’ll then be killed and my body disposed of in the incinerator. I dread the day they will bring down another poor woman to be kept as their pet, for I’ll know that I will have only a few weeks at most left before being put down. I said that they can be cruel. They have even told me how I will be killed. There is a small hoist in the gym, and in an offhand way, Hazel told me one day,
“Your collar will be attached to the hoist and you’ll be pulled up and left hanging overnight like a piece of meat until you have choked to death. That way, there won’t be much of a mess to clean up afterwards.”
The world doesn’t know I even exist let alone know that I’m missing. I curl up on my bed and once again the tears flow as I cry myself to sleep.
CAREER CHANGE
What the hell have I done? How could I have been so trusting and yet so stupid at the same time? I know it’s far too late for regrets, and I have only myself to blame for the situation I now find myself in.
I had just turned 20 when I landed a job with a small firm in the north of England. My boss, Hazel Hunter, was an attractive 30 year old and it soon became obvious that she was a lesbian. It also soon became obvious that she was paying me a lot of attention. Once I had recovered from the shock and surprise, I found myself drawn to her and enjoyed the attention she gave me. I had only been working there for about three months when, one Monday morning, Hazel announced that she was selling the business. Everyone else would receive a generous payout, but as I had only been there for such a short period, I knew that I wasn’t entitled to anything. However, Hazel called me into her office and asked if I would be interested in a change of career.
“It’s a rather unusual position,” she said with a smile. Sadly for me, I wasn’t looking or I might have seen the look in her eyes.
“In what way is it unusual?” I asked.
Hazel smiled. “Well Carol, as you don’t have any family I was wondering if you would like to come stay with me as a kind of live in companion.”
“Kind of?” I replied, thinking back over the past three months. Hazel had taken every opportunity to touch or hug me.
Hazel’s smile widened. “Actually, I was thinking of you more as a little pet.”
I could only respond “Oh!”
“You would live with me but with certain conditions.”
“Such as?”
“You would remain naked at all times and obviously, you would not be allowed to leave the house.”
Hazel continued. “I will look after you and care for you just like a pet. However, as my pet you would be kept isolated from the outside world.”
Being kept isolated didn’t really bother me as I had no family or even close friends, a fact that I knew Hazel was aware of. Nevertheless, I felt a strange thrill run through me. She had just practically said that I would be kept a prisoner in her house, yet I didn’t feel any fear or even worry. In fact, I thought it more than a little kinky and had to stop myself laughing out loud in case Hazel thought I was laughing at her. I was sent away to think about it, and nothing was said for the rest of the week. On the Friday afternoon I was called into her office and asked for my decision.
“Well, it’s coming on for winter and I don’t fancy wandering the streets looking for a job, so yes Hazel. I’ll be your pet.”
Just like that, I had committed myself to the unknown. Sadly, I trusted Hazel to look after me.
As soon as work finished, I was taken by Hazel to the small flat I rented and she helped me pack up my few belongings, loaded them and me into her car and drove to her isolated house. On the way, she told me that she had already been in touch with the company I had rented the flat from and settled everything. It was apparent that from the very start, that my life was going to be controlled, yet I still felt no worry.
Her control over me started as soon as we entered her house as I was told, ordered really, to strip. Hesitantly, I did so feeling very self conscious at being naked in front of her, but by the end of the weekend, I had become used to it. We spent the weekend relaxing, watching TV or just talking, and it wasn’t until much later that I realised just how much of my private life Hazel was able to get out of me. On the Monday, while Hazel was out, I was free to explore the house, including the cellar that was accessed by a small elevator. The only item down there was an incinerator and that evening, Hazel explained that the house was once owned by a vet who used this place to treat the animals. The incinerator was used to dispose of any animal that had to be put down.
“It’s still in full working order,” Hazel went on. “I use it to get rid of all kinds of things.”
Her tone of voice should have warned me, but I was still thinking that this was still just a kinky game.
After dinner on the Monday night, I once again started to help clear up, but Hazel stopped me just as she had every night.
“Oh no my dear. I’ve told you, you’re not here as a maid but my companion.” She paused and smiled. “Like I said, I would like to think of you as my pet.”
I laughed and replied,
“Oh? Do I have to wear a collar?”
The expression that crossed Hazel’s face was too fleeting for me to register, buts she responded,
“Well, as you keep trying to help, I was thinking of a little something else to discourage you.”
The little something turned out to be a set of steel ankle shackles that only allowed me a step of about 9 inches and a set of hinged handcuffs that held my hands in front of me.
“There, that should keep you from helping. Now come into the lounge.”
Once there, Hazel settled herself in a comfortable chair and I was made to kneel beside her. As she listened to some music, Hazel would gently stroke my hair, then her fingers would slide down the side of my face then my neck. I suddenly realised that I was leaning against her, my head resting on her leather skirt, eyes closed and enjoying her caresses.
At bedtime, I slept in a bed that was built under Hazel’s. The top, bottom and sides were made from steel bars and once I had slid into the bed, the entrance was then closed and locked then Hazel would settle herself in bed, read for a while then settle down. I struggled to sleep for the first couple of nights but then grew accustomed to these strange sleeping arrangements and still thinking this was some kind of kinky game, slept soundly thereafter.
For the next few weeks, I lived naked and chained. When Hazel was out I was able to watch TV, listen to the radio or just wander around, but when Hazel was there, I had to follow her around and had to either sit or kneel beside her when she was sitting. I was fed by Hazel at mealtimes as she refused to release my hands from behind my back. She did comment about getting a couple of dog bowls so I could feed myself and at other times she said she would have to get me a collar. At the time I thought she was joking. I know better now.
The change came after about four weeks. It was just after dinner one evening when Hazel told me that she had something for me. I guessed that it was bondage related so wasn’t surprised when I was told to go and make sure my bowels and bladder were empty. What did surprise me was that Hazel removed the restraints I had been wearing, so I wondered what was coming.
“Right Carol, before we go any further I will ask you once again, are you still willing to be my pet?”
Standing in front of her, naked, I thought back over the past few weeks. On the forth night of sleeping under Hazel’s bed, she had caught me pleasuring myself. As a result, my hands had been cuffed behind my back during the day and at night my ankle hobble was locked to the bars at the foot of my bed and my cuffed hands to the top of my bed. In addition, Hazel had then said that I was to address her as ‘Mistress’. Despite all this happening, I still trusted her.
“Do you want me to be your pet?” I asked.
“Oh, very much so, my dear,” she replied, and sadly I didn’t pay any attention to her tone of voice. Maybe if I had, things would have turned out differently. Instead, still thinking I was playing some kind of kinky game of Hazel’s, I responded,
“Then Mistress, I’ll be happy to remain as your pet.”
Hazel then produced a complete set of restraints and chains. The cuffs and belt looked like leather, but had a strange metallic feel to them. There was also a set of mitts made from the same material that were pulled over my hands and wrists. I found that my fingers were held together and I could not bend them. Also, my thumb was held against the palm of my hand, and looking at the mitts, I thought that my hands now looked more like paws. Before I could make a comment, Hazel then secured the cuffs round my wrists effectively locking the mitts in place. The remaining cuffs were locked round my ankles and round my arms, just above my elbows, and although they all fitted tightly, they ‘gave’ slightly when I flexed my hands and arms or bent my feet. The belt, which was about 7 or 8 inches deep, and was more like a waist cincher, was next locked round my waist and reduced my waist measurement by about two inches. Chains were locked to the cuffs joining my elbow cuffs to the waist belt and I found that I could no longer raise my arms above my head. I was then ordered to kneel and more chains were then locked between my ankle cuffs and waist belt and I found I was now held on my hands and knees just like an animal. She then buckled a 1 inch leather collar round my neck and I found myself thinking, “I’ve just become her doggie!” I was grateful that I have small breasts, because if they had been any larger, I would have found moving around even more uncomfortable and embarrassing.
I spent the rest of the day moving round the house on my hands and knees, and in the evening lying at my mistress’s feet then sleeping in the under bed cage. Once I was in my cage, my wrist cuffs were locked to my collar and I learned to sleep like that. I don’t think there was any reason for this apart from emphasising just how helpless I had become. Next day, before leaving the house, Hazel attached a dog leash to my collar and led me outside into the garden where I was made to ‘go’. It was bitterly cold outside which encouraged me to squat and pee like a bitch, before being brought back into the kitchen. There was a large dog bed there and I was made to climb onto it whereupon Hazel locked my collar to a four foot length of chain that was securely fastened to a fitting in the wall. My astonished cry of “Mistress?” was greeted by her saying,
“Bye bye pet. See you tonight.”
I spent a boring day chained to the wall. My restraints kept me from stretching my legs and my mitts would not allow me to free myself from the collar. I had a bowl of water if I was thirsty, but only sipped at it because I was frightened that I would need to pee. Somehow, I felt that Hazel would not be happy if I wet my bed. I was already house trained and didn’t realise it. Although I was warm and relatively comfortable, the novelty of being kept like a pet animal was starting to wear off, but when Hazel returned that night, my pleas for release were ignored. Instead, my collar was released from the chain after she clipped the dog leash to it before leading me back outside in the cold and dark to relieve myself again. I was secured with the chain again while Hazel prepared dinner and my dinner was served to me in a metal dog bowl, but only after my mistress had made and eaten her own meal. After eating, I was taken back into the lounge.
“Please Mistress,” I begged. “Let me stretch my legs, if nothing else.”
“Oh hush pet,” was the gentle reply. “You’ll soon get used to it.”
Get used to it? How long was she planning to keep me like this? Suddenly, the game wasn’t a game any longer. Looking up I said,
“Look Hazel, I’m sorry but I don’t want to play this game any longer. Just take these cuffs and things off me, I’ll get dressed and leave.”
Hazel leaned down, patted me on the head and said,
“Oh dear, I’ve gone and upset you, and I don’t want that. Let me try something first then you can tell me what you think.”
Removing the leather dog collar I had been wearing, she slipped a 2 inch wide collar round my neck and I heard and felt the click as it locked. It was made from the same material as my restraints but was slightly thicker and I felt slight protrusions on each side of my throat. They weren’t uncomfortable, but they were noticeable. However, I had decided that enough was enough. I had been happy to play as her pet, even to the point of acting like a dog and being taken out in the cold to pee, but this was too much. I opened my mouth to tell her that I’d had enough, or rather tried to. Although my mouth worked, no sound came out. Hazel clapped her hands and gave an excited little scream.
“Yes! It works.”
In response to my amazed look she started to stroke my hair and went on,
“That collar is designed to keep the wearer silent. I have no idea how it works. Some sort of electronic trickery and, what was the phrase that was used? Oh yes, anti-phase. I have no idea how it works, but it means that whenever you try to make a sound, the device in that collar cancels it out.”
I knelt there, stunned. How was I going to get out of here? If anyone came to the front door, I knew that I would probably be chained in the kitchen, and now I couldn’t even shout for help. Hazel bent down and clipped a dog leash to the front of the collar then continued to stroke my hair as she went on.
“As you’re now my pet, you need a new name. Carol is a girl’s name, a human name. You are now my pet animal, so what shall I call you?”
I tried to move away, pull free, anything, but Hazel simply gave the leash she was holding a sharp tug, and I found that the collar acted like a choke chain, cutting off my breath. I forced myself to relax and Hazel released the tension on the leash, allowing me to breathe again.
“There, that’s better, isn’t it? A pet should always be obedient and submissive to her Mistress, shouldn’t she? Oh I know, I’ll call you Petra. That’s a nice name for an obedient bitch.”
She smiled down at me and then in a quiet voice continued,
“I’ve been looking for someone like you for a long time, so do you really think that having got you here and locked in my chains I would ever consider letting you go?”
She smiled at the shocked expression on my face as she went on,
“If you had refused to continue, I would have offered you a drugged drink and when you woke up, you would have found yourself in an even more strict form of restraint. You couldn’t have left anyway, because you’ve nothing to wear. All your clothes and other things have already been put through the incinerator.”
I stared at her, shocked, as she continued,
“Doggies don’t wear clothes and don’t own anything, so there was no need to keep anything, was there? Oh Elizabeth will be please to see you.”
‘Elizabeth? Who the hell is Elizabeth? Before I could make any response, Hazel stood up and called out, “Petra. Heel,” gave a sharp tug on my leash, and I was forced to follow her on my hands and knees, while trying to work out what was happening to me. I had started the day playing a kinky game, but now? Still struggling to comprehend, I followed, trying not to get choked as we headed for the elevator and went down into the cellar. I wondered what Hazel was up to as she walked up to a blank wall and started to manipulate several of the bricks. There was a click and a section of the wall swung open to reveal a short concrete lined corridor with a smooth laminate wood floor and I could see a steel door at the other end.
Still on hands and knees, I scrabbled along behind Hazel, still trying to prevent myself being choked. The concealed entrance had swung closed behind us and as Hazel reached the steel door, she opened a small panel to reveal a keypad, entered a code and the door swung open. We went through and the door closed and I heard a clunk as it locked. In front of us was another steel door and as Hazel repeated the operation with a keypad, she announced in a conversational tone,
“As a security measure, the doors will automatically close and lock and one door will not open unless the other one is locked shut. As a further measure, the doors also have different codes on each side.”
She meant that each door had a different code to open it from the inside and outside. Two doors, four codes. Without the codes, anyone who succeeded in getting through one door would then be trapped between the doors, and unless somebody came, the trapped person would probably starve to death.
We went through and I found myself in a long corridor, also with the same laminate wood flooring, which was just a swell as I scrabbled along on my hands and knees. One side of the corridor was a plain concrete wall with low level lighting set near the floor, but on the other side was a series of, I could only describe them as cells. The first four were each about 8 foot deep by 6 foot wide. The back and sides were pink painted concrete but the front was made up of vertical steel bars set about 4 inches apart, while the wooden flooring continued into these cells. Set at the end of the bars alongside one of the side walls, was a barred gate. The last cell had a solid wall with an ordinary door in it.
As Hazel continued to lead me down the corridor, she talked and acted as if she was leading a guided tour.
“When this place was being used by the vet, he used these bays to store any drugs or chemicals to reduce the risk of theft. Before him, this place was built by a survivalist, and I’ve always wondered if he was kinky like me and wanted to keep his own pets down here. When I saw them I knew that they would make excellent kennels.”
She went on, “The people who fitted out this area and installed the steel doors also built the concealed entrance. I’ve checked with the local authority and it seems that the survival nut built this place without telling anyone. There are no records that this place even exists.”
When we reached the end of the corridor, I saw that there were two more steel doors, both also keypad operated. Hazel opened one door and led me inside to what was a multigym. There were various pieces of apparatus scattered around, but in the middle of the room was a large treadmill with pieces of thick perspex alongside the actual part that moved. They were the length of the treadmill and about 2 foot high.
“Obviously I can’t take you out for walkies,” Hazel said, “so this is designed to give you all the exercise you’ll need as well as keeping you safe.” She laughed. “While you’re going walkies, Elizabeth or I can get exercise too, so in a way, we’ll be taking the dog out for a walk after all.”
Again, I wondered who Elizabeth was, but I was more concerned with getting out of here. I tried to say or do something, but my chains kept me on my hands and knees and my collar kept me silent. Hazel acted as if she hadn’t noticed.
“Right Petra, let’s show you next door.”
I was led through an adjoining door into what was a luxuriously furnished lounge. After being on my hands and knees for so long, the deep piled carpet felt so soft against my skin. Looking round, I saw that there was a large home entertainment system and I worked out that the other steel door at the end of the corridor would allow entry to this place. Hazel continued,
“People believe I often have to go away on business, sometimes for several days, but I’m actually down here where I can relax. Looking down at me, she smiled,
“And now I have a pet of my own to keep me company.”
I was horrified. I had started what I thought was a harmless but kinky game and now found myself restrained, silent and practically helpless at the hands of a madwoman. Everything I owned, clothes, tablet, phone and everything else that I had brought with me, including my birth certificate, passport and everything that identified me as a person, had been destroyed in the incinerator. I knew I had to escape, but how? Looking round, I could see nothing that would help me get out of these chains, but my situation was then made worse.
“Right Petra, time to settle you for the night. Tomorrow we have a lot to do before I can relax with you.”
I was led out of another steel door, and found I was right about where it led as I found myself back in the corridor. Pulling me along, Hazel stopped at the second cell, and producing a key, unlocked the gate and dragged me in. Alongside one wall in the far corner was a wooden frame with a large soft padded cushion resting on it. I was made to get onto the cushion and lie down and Hazel then proceeded to clip my collar to a steel chain set in the wall, and looking at it, I realised that I would not be able to get off the cushion. Once again, my wrists were locked to my collar.
“Good night pet, see you in the morning,” said Hazel as she left the cell, then closed and locked the gate. She walked away and I heard the sound of the steel door opening then closing. Shortly afterwards, the lights went out and the only illumination came from the dim lights set near the floor on the opposite side of the corridor from the cells.
I struggled to get free, but failed miserably. Even if my hands weren’t held hard up to my neck, the mitts on them would have prevented me from unclipping the chain from my collar. When I tried tugging on the chain, I only succeeded in choking myself as the collar tightened. The thought that even if I could somehow free myself I still had to get through a locked gate then two security coded steel doors overcame me and defeated, I lay there and let the tears flow.
I was woken up by the lights coming on followed by the sound of a door opening and then voices. Hazel appeared with another woman and I was introduced to Elizabeth, who was, in fact, Hazel’s partner and lover. Hazel explained,
“Elizabeth has to go away on business quite often, so she suggested I get a pet to keep me company when she’s away.”
Elizabeth then added, with a smile,
“And she’s found herself a really beautiful pet. I’m impressed,” she said as she turned and kissed Hazel.
The door to my kennel cell was unlocked, Elizabeth entered and released my hands from my collar, clipped a leash to my collar before unclipping the chain that held me to the wall. While Hazel went further down the corridor, Elizabeth knelt down and cupped my face in her hands.
“If you’re a good bitch and behave, I promise to be good and gentle with you, but if you misbehave, then I will punish you very severely and there will be a great deal of pain involved. Understand?” She looked me in the eyes as she went on, “Will you behave?” Trembling with fear at the situation I now found myself in, I nodded my submission. “Good girl.” Standing, she gave the leash a tug and then called, “Petra. Heel.” And I was led out of what was now my kennel, crawling on my hands and knees for the start of what was to become a routine.
The plain door was now open and I was led into what was a toilet and wet room. My leash was secured to a ring in the far wall and I was then given an enema. As if being treated like some kind of animal wasn’t humiliating enough, this was too much and the tears once again started to flow. However, the collar kept my cries of misery silent. After being cleaned out, the area was cleaned then I was showered then left as warm air was blown over me to dry me. In the days, weeks and months to come, this would be where I was usually taken to relieve myself, and I never again had to worry about doing a poo, as the daily enemas took care of that.
When I was dry, I was taken into the lounge area and made to lie at Hazel’s and Elizabeth’s feet while they discussed what they would do with me. I lay there horrified as Elizabeth bent down, stroked the mitts on my hands and turned to look up at Hazel.
“I know a good surgeon who could remove the need for those mittens.”
“Oh? How so?” was Hazel’s reply.
“She can amputate the fingers. Just the first two segments and all of the thumb. That way, Petra will have proper paws.”
I thought I was going to be sick as I listened, but fortunately, my stomach was empty. Hazel seemed to consider the matter then responded.
“No Elizabeth, I don’t think so. I like the way they look and it helps remind her of her status now.”
Looking down at my fear filled face, she went on. “However, if our little bitch turns out to be rebellious and disobedient, then I’ll probably have to reconsider.” Turning back to Elizabeth she asked, “What about her hair. It’s going to grow. Should we shave her head?”
“No” was the reply, we’ll keep it trimmed though. I like the feel of it running through my hands.
So my new life began. I would be exercised on a regular basis on the treadmill. My collar is locked to the machine and I move on my hands and knees as the machine runs. I can move at a fair pace now. I spend a lot of time with either Hazel or Elizabeth in the lounge area. I will be allowed up onto the sofa and I lie there, my head on my Mistress’s lap as she strokes me. I’m completely broken now, with no thought of rebellion. The one time I tried to resist, I received a thrashing on my backside from a leather belt. When taking me anywhere, they no longer use a leash. They don’t need to. I walk at heel, sit, stay, beg, give a paw or lie down, just as I am commanded.
It has become Hazel and Elizabeth’s custom, when I’m allowed in the lounge area, to lock my hands to my collar and shorten my ankle chains so that I have to ‘walk’ on my knees and elbows. I suppose I should be grateful they don’t leave me like that all the time, but I just feel even more miserable and humiliated.
I have often been locked in a cage in the lounge while Hazel and Elizabeth make love, and the sights and sounds leave me feeling frustrated as I can’t even pleasure myself. However, one day Elizabeth was sitting naked in the lounge having just had a shower. I had been allowed to wander round when she called me over to her. A ring gag was strapped between my teeth and my head pulled between her legs. I had never licked a woman’s pussy before but I was encouraged to perform as Elizabeth used a leather belt on my backside. I have learned my lessons and can now bring either Mistress to a climax. These days, I am sometimes rewarded with an orgasm of my own. However, I have to earn it and lie there, on my back, limbs in the air as Hazel or Elizabeth, or sometimes both, use a variety of toys to force one climax after another out of me.
I’ve no idea how long I’ve been here. The days, weeks and months have blended into one another. There is just the here and now. I struggle to try and remember my life before coming here, but it gets harder and harder to recall any memories. I am sometimes taken upstairs and when the weather is warm and dry, I’m taken into the secluded back garden. My collar is linked to a twenty foot chain and I’m free to wander round, my collar ensuring my continued silence. I have even been left there while Hazel and Elizabeth have gone out. If it rains, there is a large dog kennel for me to shelter in. I look forward to these days as it is the only time I see daylight. I will just lie there in the grass enjoying the various scents and watching the birds flying about. However, in the winter months I dread being forced to go outside. If Hazel or Elizabeth even think I should pee, they will open the back door and force me outside then leave me locked out until they think I’ve had enough time to pee.
I am also sometimes allowed to stay with whomever is there in the evenings, although surprisingly, it’s often Elizabeth that likes to have me lying at her feet. I sometimes get treats. Chocolate, candy, things like that, but I have to sit up and beg for them. To my shame, I will do this without any hesitation. They can be cruel, usually by ignoring the fact that I am a human, but treat me just like an animal. When they are in a good mood, I am often made to lie down while one or other massages perfumed cream into my skin, and the only time I see my fingers is when Hazel trims my nails. I forget what tea and coffee tastes like. At least I get the same food as my owners, even if it is served in a metal dog bowl, and I sometimes get flavoured water to drink. The only other concessions to my humanity are that someone brushes my teeth for me, and during my periods, I wear a sanitary pad held in place with a disposable adult diaper. I suspect this isn’t for my benefit, but to save them from having to clean up any mess.
However, for the vast majority of time, I’m left locked in my cell, chained to the wall and kept silent by my collar. Elizabeth once asked Hazel how often the batteries in my collar had to be changed, and I thought that I would finally get a chance to beg or plead for release, but my hopes were dashed as Hazel explained,
“They don’t need replacing. They use what’s called contactless charging. The charger is under her bed and as she’s chained to the wall, she can’t move away.
My kennel is warm as I lie here in the dim light, a chained and silent bitch. If I were suddenly to find myself free of all restraints, I doubt if I would be able to stand and I often wonder if I would be able to talk, and I don’t think I would be able to control my bowels any more. At night, lying in the silence, I sometimes wonder how much longer I will live here like this. From their conversations when Hazel and Elizabeth thought I was sleeping in my cage, I know that one day I’ll either become too old to look after or become ill. When that situation arises, they will find a replacement for me and I’ll then be killed and my body disposed of in the incinerator. I dread the day they will bring down another poor woman to be kept as their pet, for I’ll know that I will have only a few weeks at most left before being put down. I said that they can be cruel. They have even told me how I will be killed. There is a small hoist in the gym, and in an offhand way, Hazel told me one day,
“Your collar will be attached to the hoist and you’ll be pulled up and left hanging overnight like a piece of meat until you have choked to death. That way, there won’t be much of a mess to clean up afterwards.”
The world doesn’t know I even exist let alone know that I’m missing. I curl up on my bed and once again the tears flow as I cry myself to sleep.
