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Chapter 6
Later, as Towser led the way to the kitchen porch to drink and to wait to be fed, Jane walked by his side, holding her leash in her mouth. Bravo was there already, lying down with his head on his front paws. He raised his head, alerted by the smell of recent sex, and Towser stopped and lay before him on his back in submission, as if asking his pardon for having taken their bitch in advance of the pack leader and Bravo licked his belly as if in forgiveness. Towser rose and went to the water bowl, where he allowed Jane to drink by his side. On their return to join the big Alsatian, Jane, with some vague idea of paying homage to the leader of the pack, turned her back on him and went down on her elbows in mute invitation. Watching him between her thighs, she saw him rise and walk towards her. But Bravo still wasn't really interested in this odd bitch; she didn't smell right to him, and, though his member rose, it soon subsided and the big dog contented himself with licking her buttocks and thighs.
The dogs ate, then Jane, and then they lay together until it was time for them to go to their little shed to be shut in for the night. Bravo led the way, with Towser at his side, and Jane followed closely behind them, carrying her leash in her mouth. Once they were behind the barred door of their pen, Jane sprawled luxuriously in the dirty straw, at peace with the world and herself.
She woke several times during the night, her head pillowed on Towser's flank, her nose buried in his fur. Her behaviour didn't seem so terrible to her now, though she was a little sore between her thighs, and she was glad that the bigger dog hadn't taken advantage of her offer. But the soreness inside her would quickly pass, and she even found herself wondering if she would give Towser another opportunity.
There was a change in the next day or so. Not in the weather, which remained enervatingly hot and increasingly humid, but in the relationship between the three of them and in Jane's treatment by the dogs. Towser, perhaps by virtue of being the only sexually active male in their tiny pack, seemed to Jane to have taken over the position of leader. At any rate, it became he who now controlled her movements, leading her back and forth, and tethering her to the wall in the mornings after she'd fed. Jane had thought him a less hard master than the big Alsatian, but this proved to be no longer the case once he'd taken over mastery of her. There were no more excursions to the paddock for Jane, instead, except for the daily walk to and from the the shed where they were kennelled – during which her leash was held firmly in her dog's powerful jaws - she was now kept tethered all the time, either in the shed at nights, or to the pole in the yard during the days.
Worse, it was clear that Towser, having once bent her to his will sexually, was intent on more of the same. One afternoon, as she lay drowsing surrounded by her own excreta on the little patch of hard ground to which she was confined by her tether, Towser trotted into the yard to drink. Jane stood and waited for him to finish and come to lead her to drink in her turn. And so he did, but in a very different manner from which he'd ever approached her before. His member was already stiff, and he nudged her shoulder with his nose in an obvious order to her to turn her back on him. Jane stared at him in dismay. His confidence that he would be obeyed unsettled her, and the the flat yellow glare in his eyes frightened her. Towser nudged her flank impatiently and growled at her, opening his mouth to show his sharp white teeth
With a little sob of fear and helplessness, Jane turned her back on him and went down on her elbows, resting her forehead on the dirt between her mitts. Closing her eyes in resignation, she waited for the inevitable. As before, he was brutally quick, and when he withdrew and cocked a hind leg against the wall a foot or so from her to empty his bladder, he left her sobbing with shame and horror, not even moving when an occasional drop of his strong-smelling urine splashed on her skin.
Jostling her aside, the dog then seized her leash and dragged her to water. A few minutes later, when he'd tethered her again, he went back to the feeding area and lay on his belly with his head on his paws regarding her with satisfaction. Jane straightened her aching arms and turned to face him, wincing at the soreness between her thighs. She could read his muzzy, doggy thoughts like a book. For a moment she hated her dog for his self-satisfied male complacency, for his obvious confidence in his domination over this strange bitch that he could take whenever he pleased, and she hated herself for her own forced acceptance of the situation.
Bravo walked slowly around the corner of the house. Panting audibly in the heat, he lowered his head into the water bowl and drank. Raising his head to shake the water from his muzzle, he sniffed the air and turned to look sharply in Jane's direction. Purposefully, the big dog walked over to where she stood passively. She felt Bravo's nose probe her vagina, and she saw Towser lift his head a little to stare at them before lowing it again and closing his eyes in apparent boredom.
When the Alsatian's big, heavy paws landed on her shoulder blades Jane went down on her elbows almost with indifference. The larger dog took her with surprising gentleness, and the experience was not nearly as painful as she'd feared. When he climbed down, he gave her thigh a friendly lick before urinating in the same spot as Towser had used and walking off to lie down by the other dog.
Jane stared at the dogs with dull eyes, too shocked and dispirited even to cry. Slowly and painfully, she turned to regard the tiny, filthy patch of bare earth she was confined to. The puddle of dog urine lay only a foot from the hole where her short tether was secured. It had spread, and was slow to soak into the hard-packed soil. Finally Jane lay down on the still damp ground with her back to the dogs and wept in misery and despair.
Up until then, she realised, despite her mitts, her gag, her nakedness and her collar, and despite her being able to walk only on all-fours, she had still been unconsciously expecting the dogs to regard her as a human being and their superior. Bitterly she realised her real position in their eyes; an oddly-shaped, hairless female animal. Her recent rape by the dogs had been much worse than the first one a day previously, then she'd been able to tell herself that she had brought it on by her own choice. But there had no choice this time, nor would there be in the future. Towser must be in doggy heaven, she thought dispassionately, with unlimited access to a tethered bitch. Incredibly, she dozed off, and was only woken by the sound the dogs made as they ate.
She stood and waited to be led off to feed on their leavings, but they ignored her desperate whinings, and it was only when they were due to be shut up in the shed that Towser led her off to eat as quickly as she could while he stood over her, twitching her leash impatiently.
The pattern of her existence became set. Every morning the dogs were freed, but Jane was left tethered. An hour or so later, after the dogs had eaten, Towser would return and lead her over to feed. Then he'd tether her to the pole until mid-afternoon when he'd lead her to drink. When he'd secured her again, he'd demand his reward and she'd go down on her elbows docilely and endure his attentions.
She became dull-eyed and indifferent – her mind shutting down to preserve her sanity – and even the appearence on her body of the first fleabites didn't register with her at first. She ignored them, as she'd long ignored the flies crawling on her body.
By now she had no idea of how many days had passed, and even in her brief moments of lucidity she no longer bothered to try to calculate them; instead, like any other animal, she lived passively in the present, minute by minute, no longer capable of anticipating her future.
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