Dobson's Choice

by NickHC

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© Copyright 2020 - NickHC - Used by permission

Storycodes: F+/mf+; bond; kidnap; tattoo; cage; nc; XXX

Continues from

Part 2

The rather mundane dirty white van was on the road once more, carrying yet another cargo of captive misery in the back. Up forward in the cab, Tracey was in the driving seat for once, rather than Sonia. This time it would only be a relatively short journey as their destination wasn’t too far from London. Not one of those interminable, off-the-map trips delivering to some sadistic deviant’s private little incarceration facility hidden from curious eyes deep in the unpopulated wilds!

From time to time, Tracey took her eyes off the road to take a quick peek and scowl at the action going on beside her. It was a Sunday, so there wasn’t a great deal of traffic about anyway and certainly not this early in the day, nor was she going particularly fast. They never did when they were carrying their human consignments. Anonymity was their watchword. Actually, on this occasion that was a bit of a joke considering what was going on in the other passenger seats never mind the unhappy occupant in the crate a few feet behind the cab partition.

Sonia had insisted on bringing little ‘Twinkle’ with them. Jesus, the lanky butch dyke couldn’t keep her paws off that prissy pocket-sized miss for even a short trip. You’d have thought that after the past week she might be able to go at least a couple of hours without mauling the little bitch?

Tracey was surprised Sonia had wanted to come along at all, given her overwhelming obsession with the tiny doll-like girl they’d acquired, along with her beau now securely fastened within the crate in the back. Tracey sneaked another sideways look and shook her head. Sheesh, she got very randy regularly but Sonia, hell, she must have had wet panties for the last seven days, assuming she even bothered wearing them in between bouts of incessant lustful action with baby barbie-doll there!

Christ, they didn’t even have tinted windows, just plain (if a little dirty) standard toughened safety glass. If the cops overtook them? Well, she thought, if the pigs did come cruising past at least they would be seated lower down and on her side to boot, nor was she about to let any other fucking male prick in a van or truck overtake her. No way. Still? All that shit over the years from Son about security and now she’s too fucking randy to give a damn!

Twinkle was being somewhat noisy again. She’d been making a lot of noise non-stop for a week now, ever since she’d awoken laying face up on Sonia’s big king-sized bed to find her captor slowly stripping away her clothing with the aid of a fearsome looking knife. OK, so the noise was muted by the small, pink, rubber ball gag in her mouth. Small a) because it was more discrete and less evident to a quick glance with her teeth able to almost close over it and b) given her diminutive size anything more substantial would have required breaking her dainty jaw to get it in!

Even with the gag, she was noisy. She was grunting and squeaking. Fuck, Tracey thought, she might be a titch, but she couldn’t half turn the volume up, and so far all the bitch had received on her rump were a few hand spanks and a couple of piss-all light dustings with a paddle. Sheesh, better get some earplugs in when she feels the cane for the first time across that cute little ass of hers!

A little earlier the pair of them had dragged ‘Dobby’ up from the deep basement and out to the van and fastened him securely in the transportation crate. Sonia had casually tossed the keys at her saying “You can drive, about time you did some’t useful pal, I’ll go lock up." She’d climbed into the driving seat and spent the usual few minutes raising the seat and moving it way-way forward, God, Sonia had such long legs! Then the bitch herself had appeared carrying her damned dolly, a kicking and struggling cuffed, mutely squealing dolly to boot!

“What the fuck!” Tracey exclaimed her jaw dropping open as Sonia opened the passenger door and thrust Twinkle into the cab. “Are you crazy? You can’t bring that midget bitch with you! Not in the fucking cab.”

“Can so,” Sonia replied tartly pushing the struggling girl toward the middle cab seat and climbing in herself. “Sides, Twinks here might get lonely without me now we are such good friends, eh Twinky?” She addressed the latter remark to the tiny girl as she pulled the middle seat belt from its roller and fastened her in place. It was as good as a bondage chair given that the small girl had her hands cuffed behind her back and thus unable to hit the release button. She shrieked into her gag as Sonia took her time making sure the chest strap was nice and tight, her hands running over far more than just the belt. She kissed two fingers and tapped her toy on the nose gently. “There, there baby doll, all nice and secure for our little trip.”

Sonia checked the door was secure and fastened her own belt then flashed a leery smile at her partner. “Anyway, maybe she might like to say goodbye to her boyfriend.”

“Goodbye? The fucker is coming back, you know!”

“Yup, but not like he was. It’s life Jim but not as we know it, or she knew it,” Sonia quipped with a nasty laugh.

Tracey started the engine. “You’re a fucking mad bitch!” she snorted, “Whoops...”

“Bumps a daisy,” Sonia chuckled as the van lurched forward and suddenly stalled. “Steady now gal, don’t want you making little Twinks here sick. You don’t want to feel all sicky do you pumpkin not with that nice gag you're sucking on. Nope, ‘upchucking our breakfast’ going bump, bump, bumpety bump is not what we want?” she crooned, looking down at her tiny captive and patting her on the head.

Tracey swore again under her breath, swallowed an angry retort by counting to five and re-started the engine, then smoothly pulled out and onto the road. ‘Wish the little bit of fluff would throw up and all-over big Son. Serve her right!’ she thought to herself.

“Pity she got that gag in her pretty little gob. Although, on second thoughts, maybe just as well, God that little madam can make a shit load of noise when she wants!”

Twinkle, Twinks, Twinky, not so long ago known as Miss Chelsea Mainwaring-Bracebridge, threw her head frantically from side to side several times and struggled against the gentle pull of the seat belt. Her wild eyes flicking from one side window to the other and then back to the windscreen view. Her lips twitched as attempted screams and shouts died into muffled squeaks into the hard-pink rubber gag. ‘Surely, surely to God someone would see her, someone would help, someone would rescue her from these crazy perverted lesbian bitches. Oh God, someone, please, please help me!’

The vehicle swung out of the side street and accelerated onto the major road picking up speed as Tracey judged and got the green lights just right. There were a few pedestrians out, walking their dogs or maybe heading out to buy a Sunday newspaper. Not a single one bothered to spare a glance at the van, which in any case was going too fast for anyone to notice anything amiss within the cab. The vehicle did stop at a couple of sets of lights and even one pedestrian crossing. Each time Chelsea renewed her limited efforts to attract attention but to no avail. She stared in helpless frustration as the woman with the three kids plus a little dog on a long leash slowly pushed the buggy with a fourth child in it to the far side of the road. The smaller of her two tormentors even giving them an encouraging wave from the driving seat.

The woman in question was more intent in shepherding her brood over the crossing and never even turned in their direction. Even if she had, what would she have seen? Three women patiently waiting for her to cross. One big, one small and the middle one hardly visible over the dashboard. She would have had to stop and stare hard for little Chelsea’s animated antics to register and maybe if she had been particularly eagle-eyed, might even have caught a glimpse of that pink ball gag buried in her mouth and the thin straps securing it. However, no one ever does pause on a black and white unlighted crossing of course, not unless you want an angry horn blasting out and embarrassing you!

Once they’d left suburbia behind and hit the dual-carriageway Sonia’s itchy fingers could wait no longer and once again she was possessively mauling her little ‘living dolly’. A screaming, struggling, kicking very-much-alive dolly. A dolly that despite having a posh double-barrelled name plus undoubtedly a refined upper-class upbringing could swear like a drunken sailor being denied one more glass on his run ashore! Worse still she possessed a penetrating screech like a deranged parrot trying to imitate a runaway railway locomotive horn!

“Don’t you dare take that fucking gag out,” Tracey cautioned her partner. “I can’t drive with my fingers in my ears and I don’t want to spend the whole fucking day with a bloody headache and chewing on aspirin cos of that noisy little shit.”

Sonia grinned and stuck her tongue out at her partner, revealing the ever-present piece of chewing gum. “Just shadup’n drive honey afore I gets pissed off at you an tells you to take us home instead of going on to puppy training school. I could be laying on my nice big bed now having soooo much fun with prissy missy here you know."

“Well just don’t ask her if she wants any gum?” Tracey snapped back irritably, pulling a face. “Fuck," she uttered to herself, “fucking filthy trick to pull anyway!” Sonia had the revolting habit of passing her well-chewed gum over, and into the mouth, she was raping with her tongue. So far she’d made Twinkle throw up on at least four of the occasions when she’d done it! The last thing they needed was a cab full of vomit plus when that little bit of fluff heaved and contrary to her size, it came out like she’d got a belly on reheat!

Sonia giggled and turned her full attention back to her unwilling toy stroking the girl's fringe gently away from her eyes and then giving her a quick kiss on the tip of the nose. “Oh baby, baby, I know how badly you want mummy, but you’ll just have to be super patient for a bit. I promise as soon as we get back it’ll be straight upstairs for some playtime,” she licked the tip of that cute little nose a couple of times and started fondling one small but beautifully firm perky breast through the girl's dress.

Chelsea screamed into her gag and tried to twist her head away around towards Tracey. A long skein of drool emerged and ran down her chin to settle on her pink gingham dress. It was a pretty short-sleeved dress with a scalloped edge collar, pleated skirt, white buttons and a large bow to the front. It wasn’t even the largest size in the kiddie department! It was going to be so much fun choosing which outfits to buy for her Sonia thought. She was just so adorable in her dress, white ankle socks and black Mary Jane strap shoes.

Usually, her tastes ran to a touch of silk or nylon on her girls. Except for Trace of course who’d told her what she could fucking well do with that crap when she suggested it early in their relationship! Pity, running a hand up a stocking clad leg and then the exciting transition to smooth warm thigh at the top was a huge turn on for her. Soft bodies in silks and satin, likewise spike heels. She liked a little eye candy dressing on her meat to titillate her, but it would be different for this little minx. No big girl clothes for her ever. She might be nineteen going on twenty, but the only adult aspect of her life from now on would revolve around the action in or on Sonia’s bed. That was her life from now on, and she’s better get used to it or else — the three B’s. Bed, bathroom and basement and she’d soon learn that enthusiastic compliance in the first would be infinitely preferable to a trip down to the third!

“Naughty naughty,” Sonia chided, reaching across her plaything with her left hand till it found and grasped a handful of blonde hair under one of the pink ribbons that divided Twinkles long honey blonde hair into two bunches. She firmly pulled the girls head around through a hundred and eighty degrees, smiled into the horrified, angry blue eyes and then shifting a wad of gum into her cheek began to lick the girl's face.

So utterly cute, tiny and helpless. Did they make bunny suits in her size Sonia wondered as she licked and kissed, now that would be adorable, wouldn’t it?

It was dark in the crate and hot. If it hadn’t been for the generous air holes in the lid and sides, he would almost certainly have suffocated. Would that have been such a bad thing he thought to himself? He yelped silently into his gag as his head banged against the lid scant centimetres above him. Christ, how many more bumps were they going to hit and how long would this awful journey take, he wondered?

Then again, did he want it to end given his experiences to date? That was another question and he was reasonably sure he would neither like nor enjoy the answer, whatever it might be, once they arrived at their destination. “Ough!” another blasted pothole.

That bitch Tracey had dragged him up from the basement, a journey that seemed to involve an endless series of staircases, how deep was that bloody set of dungeon-like rooms? He’d stumbled as quickly as he could manage after her. Not easy with his arms cuffed behind his back and that short hobble chain between his ankles. He’d fallen over a couple of times and barked his skin. No clothing for protection, naked as the day he’d been born, just as he’d found himself when he’d woken in that small cage she’d kept him in.

The bitch had neither mercy nor patience. His ribs hurt where she’d kicked him before dragging him upright each time by the leash fastened to his heavy leather collar. “C’mon you lazy mutt, up, a few scrapes on your fucking hide won’t kill you, up boy. You’ve felt far worse on it recently haven’t you?”

That was true; he had felt far worse and was still suffering from them. His bottom and thighs felt red raw from the numerous savage beatings the bitch had given him. Every day and often twice a day or so it seemed he’d been dragged out of that low, confining cage of steel and mesh. There was no clock, no window, so he’d no idea of time or even what day it was.

His whole body hurt, and it wasn’t just those parts that the awful whips and canes had touched. He was chained hand and foot, arms behind his back and legs manacled together. He had awoken like that to this nightmare. Awoken to find himself in a cramped cage unable to stand upright or even stretch out and forced to remain in an uncomfortable crouched or curled up posture that was playing hell with his back and legs — awoken in a bewildered daze with a blinding headache and a dry throat that felt like he’d just spent a week without water in a desert.

Awoken to see that evil bitch gloating over him like some prized possession. He’d shouted at her, screamed at her, sworn at her, but all she’d done was laugh. Then she left and came back a few minutes later with a cup of coffee or something and casually placed a chair near the wretched cage and sat there calmly drinking it and watching him while he ranted till he ran out of breath. Then he tried being rational, talking, questioning, pleading, trying to get some sort of an answer, just a response even.

He recognised her of course. She was the smaller of the two women who’d stopped to help them when he couldn’t get the engine to re-start. She was the smaller of the two, the one who’d seemed to be in charge and made the suggestions about what to do. She wasn’t the tall butch blonde one who’d kicked him in the groin. God, that kick, he could still feel it. Agony for a second, then, and then nothing....?

Ultimately he’d got his response, and it wasn’t one he wanted or liked. He didn’t like anything about it. Half of the rubbish she’d told him hadn’t even registered at the time, but odd bits kept coming back to him later. Ominous weird and frightening bits. At the time all he’d wanted was out of that bloody uncomfortable cage, and that wish had been promptly granted. She’d opened a door in the low front, reached in and snapped a dog leash onto the thick heavy leather collar around his neck. That was another thing he’d shouted about. A bloody collar who the hell did she think she was. The wretched thing was uncomfortable. It wasn’t tight, but it was heavy and wide; he could not lower his head properly without it cutting into his neck.

She’d finished her drink, got up and moved the chair away and disappeared only to reappear a few moments later swinging something in her hand. That’s when she bent down and flicked a catch on the cage, reached in and grabbed him by the hair brutally yanking him forward. He yelled and swore, but she just clipped a dog leash, a damn dog leash on to his collar and started to drag him out. His initial instinct had been to resist much as he wanted out of that cage. When he thought about it later, he realised that some survival instinct must have subconsciously kicked in because a part of him deep down sensed that staying in the cage might prove to be the safer option.

Well that instinct hadn't been wrong, had it? Unfortunately, the bitch was a lot stronger than she appeared to be and dragged him out and onto the rough concrete floor with no apparent effort. He’d made to try and stand up, but her booted foot lashed out and caught him where he was already sore and tender. He’d screamed and collapsed writhing on the floor doubled in agony for a second time.

“Naughty dog,” she seemed to say as she stood looking down on him, hands on hips, the leash around her right wrist. “From now on boy, you sure had better get used to the view of the world from down there cos you ain’t gonna get any other perspective, period!”

“Chelsea,” he’d croaked when he’d recovered enough to speak. “My fiancée, Chelsea, where is she? What have you done to her?”

The bitch, Tracey her name was, had just shrugged her shoulders. “Not my concern, boy. Last I saw of little miss prissy pants, my pal Sonia was carrying her upstairs under one arm toward her bedroom,” she smirked and then chuckled, “Don’t need much imagination to work out what that big blonde dyke wants her in the bedroom for, does it boy?”

He’d gasped. “She’s not like that!” he’d protested in horror. “She’s not like that at all; she hates the gay scene and all that rainbow pride nonsense. It makes her feel sick!”

Tracey had laughed aloud at that. “That’ll truly make Son’s day then. Maybe I should take a mop and a couple of buckets up for her,” she chuckled before going silent as she regarded him coldly. “But then again, why should I waste time. She’s got her dolly to undress, and I got my pet to start housebreaking. Can you bark boy?”


Tracey had laughed again. “Never mind boy, let’s start with the simple stuff first, eh? Let’s see how well you can howl for me. C’mon mutt, move your butt.” She’d kicked him in the ribs and started dragging him into the adjoining room toward a low, padded leather bench covered with straps. He noted with horror that the walls were covered with whips and belts and all sorts of horrible looking things. Somehow up to now, he’d thought this was all some sort of horrible perverse game they'd got mixed up in by accident. As he looked around in growing terror, he realised it was perverse, very perverse, but also that it was no game.

Tracy steered the van into the kerb just past the entrance and selected reverse gear, not without some difficulty. “Fuck,” she muttered, struggling to shift the lever into the gate, she always struggled with reverse for some reason. “Shut it!” she snarled at her grinning partner “and watch the bloody gate post on your side."

“Wouldn’t dream of saying anything seeing as how you’re having soooo much fun making graunching noises with the gearbox,” Sonia laughed and wound down her window to see a little better. “OK, plenty of room my side,” she added as Tracey backed the van through the entrance and then slowly up the driveway.

“Not too bad,” Sonia admitted as her partner angrily yanked the hand brake and switched the ignition off. “Least you didn’t scrape the bloody paintwork!"

“Yeah, well, of course when you drive there are no distractions, no fucking dyke sat next to you groping her titchy femme all through the trip, is there? Maybe next time I’ll bring my dog!”

Sonia laughed as she opened the passenger door, paused to give Twinkle a big kiss on her forehead and fasten some of the buttons on the front of her dress, then jumped down to join Tracey at the rear of the van.

Mrs Mason was already talking to Tracey by the open hatch doors to her cellar training facilities. Who did she remind her of? That woman in the Harry Potter books and films, the one who was briefly headmistress, the squat toad-like smarmy one with all the pictures of kittens and fluffy things. What was her name? Can’t remember but so sickly sweet on the outside and so fucking evil on the inside, that was Mrs M to a tee.

“So nice to see you again, dear.”

Yup Sonia thought. The gentle, sweet smile was masking the evil within. She shivered — poor old Dobson. Littler Twinkie might be disgusted at what was happening to her and would be happening to her for a long time to come, and so far they’d barely started on the fun and games that were in store for her. Disgusted and repulsed as she was, her life would be a hundred, no a thousand per cent better than that of her ex-beau, poor wretch.

Ah, what the hell. Sonia shrugged it off. He was only a wanking bloody guy, so why give a fuck. Not her concern and if it kept Trace happy.....Anyway, the creep had intended to stick his fucking weeny dick into her little Twinkie hadn’t he, once the pair were spliced, or before more likely! Fucking pissers could never keep their dicks in their pants, could they? Well, he’d missed that particular boat. Her probing fingers had found that Madam’s love gate was still intact and so she would be the one to burst that dam.

“You can count it if you want, I did twice.”

Sonia shook herself, and brought her thoughts back to the present, delightful as the mental image of little Twinkie recoiling in horror from her owner’s huge strap-on was she owed Tracey this one, didn’t she? If it hadn’t been for her sharp eyes, she wouldn’t even have the little bitch to bust would she?

“Thank you dear,” Mrs Mason said, taking the proffered brown envelope. “I trust you.” She suddenly giggled and added. “Now I feel like one of those bad politicians you sometimes read about in the papers. I don’t normally deal in cash, you know.”

“You all set up and ready?” Sonia asked.

“Quite ready dear, my last guests, the pair you brought are coming along very well. Very well indeed so I now have surplus time to devote to what you want. Speaking of which have you decided? You were not sure when we spoke last”

Tracey laughed. “Sort of, but let’s get it downstairs and penned up first. I have an idea I wanna try just to make things interesting for it,” she grinned broadly as the other two looked at her curiously.

“Big Ethel been busy again I see,” Sonia remarked, looking over at the two creatures stalled side by side in the pony area. “That’s gonna take some time,” she observed, nodding at the two partly tattooed ponies. Mrs Mason joined her.

“Yes, they will be here longer than originally envisaged, quite a lot longer in fact."

“That’s gotta be bloody expensive,” Tracy observed, joining them. “Painful too, I expect.”

The three of them gazed at the two human ponies undergoing a harsh transformation from human being to animal under the less than tender conversion process Mrs Mason specialised in. These two, a young man and woman harnessed, bridled, hoof-booted with semi-shaved heads and Mohican centre cuts were also part way through a full body tattooing treatment. Large black and white patches were being applied via a tattooist's needle. Neither colour though hid the many whip marks that covered both helpless creatures.

“A pair of black and white pinto’s,” Mrs Mason commented. “The new owners are a French couple, actually came over to visit and see them. The first time that’s ever happened to me, but this was an exception. I gather they will be contacting your boss for a few more additions, they plan on having a big stable eventually.”

“Oh well, more work for us, I expect,” Sonia said. “Another day another dollar and a trip to France would be very enjoyable.”

“Isn’t it harder these days with all the fuss over immigration?”

“S’not too bad,” Sonia told her. “Easier going out of course than coming in but there are ways and means, way and means.” She gave the squat woman a big wink.

Mrs Mason nodded then frowned and reached for a long-handled training whip. “Stand straight ponies. Stand tall, stand proud for me wretched animals unless you want me to skin your hides later,” she barked and both ponies jumped and yelled into their bits as the end of the whip expertly flicked out to catch their rumps. They did, however, adjust their postures.

“These creatures were not all that well behaved when their new owners came to see them either. Not that it mattered. Madam....Madam H spent an enjoyable hour or so down here imposing her authority on them. I don’t think they will give her too much trouble." Mrs Mason nodded towards the female whose breasts, prominently jutting through her leather harness chest piece, were covered in vicious raised whip weal’s.

“I am not quite...quite so enthusiastic and a lot more careful,” she noted.

“They are going to be very pretty when they both get finished,” Tracey observed.

“My two visitors certainly thought so. I showed them a painting I’d done a few years ago of one of my other projects. They liked that particular colourful filly. They decided on the spot to go down the same route and choose this colour scheme. Of course, it costs a lot more, and Ethel can only do so much at a time, but as you say, they will look so beautiful when finished.”

“How much more would it cost?” Tracy asked thoughtfully and looked back to the pen they’d just put the terrified Dobby in.

Mrs Mason and Sonia also looked back. “Depends on what sort of scheme and how much work is involved,” Mrs Mason told her. “I’ve told Ethel about the shiny black nose you wanted. No charge for that like I told you, she will do it while giving these two a bit of a breather. Would you like me to get her to quote a few prices for you, spots, dalmatian, and so forth?”

“Uh-hu, might as well go the whole hog while we’re at it.”’

“It can add considerably to the animal’s value dear,” Mrs Mason prompted her.

Sonia coughed politely. This was all very well, but little Twinkie was probably feeling lonely out in the van and looking at those poor dumb ponies had stirred her up. Yup, time to hit the road and head home so’s she could give that reluctant little bitch another long tutorial in the glorious art of pussy licking!

“Well now Tracey, you must make your decision before leaving,” Mrs Mason told her as the three of them stood around the low cage, looking down at the terrified youth cowering within. His horrified gaze was alternating between them, his surroundings and the two wretched creatures they’d just been looking at. Nor had he missed anything that was being discussed and with each word his terror had quickly mounted.

Tracy chuckled wickedly, “Not going to be up to me, ladies. This piece of excrement once went by the name Dobson, you know. Mister James Michael Winston Dobson but now, of course, it’ll just have Dobby engraved on its collar tag and feeding bowls. You tell him, Mrs M, tell him what you told me. The dumb mutt can make his own choice.” She laughed.

Mrs Mason stared at her for a moment then she too laughed. Sonia looked a little nonplussed from one to the other which added to Tracey’s amusement.

“Alright, James,” Mrs Mason said sweetly to the trapped youth. “Your owner here is being very nice to you, oh and by the way, that was the last time anyone will call you James as from now on you will be known as Dobby. Dobby the doggie how very appropriate,” she paused and waved one hand towards a nearby wall covered with a variety of whips, crops, paddles, canes and sundry other unpleasant items.

“By now Dobby boy I am sure you have had a good look at some of the tools of my trade, and soon you will be getting much better acquainted with them. I see from your hide that you already know how they bite. Well, believe me, I can make them bite far harder and more painfully than anything you have experienced to date, and what’s more,” she paused briefly for effect and to bend forward a little smiling cruelly, “I know how to achieve the maximum effect for the minimum damage, so that you get to feel the effect every day. You are going to howl for me dog, like you cannot even begin to imagine.”

Sonia laughed loudly and pointed, “Look at the wimp, shaking already!”

Mrs Mason nodded approvingly. “Good, so the wretch should, and by tomorrow night I guarantee he will be shaking a lot more than that and merely at the thought of me entering this room never mind when I do come in. Now then Hobby...whoops I mean Dobby, listen to me very carefully.”

“Do as she tells you dog,” Tracey growled.

“When your owner here spoke to me about your conversion, I gave her two basic choices. My job, indeed my speciality, is to take a useless piece of shit like you and methodically beat the humanity out of you. I will dehumanise you just as I have done with those two over there. I will turn you into an animal for your owners’ pleasure and entertainment. That pair were two innocent backpackers on holiday. Now they are a matched pair of ponies shortly to enter a stable belonging to a very affluent couple in France. They will spend their lives living like the beasts they now are in bleak stalls, naked, harnessed, bitted, shitting where they stand, eating mush, and their only relief from absolute endless boredom will be the privilege of hauling their owner’s carriage around the estate and feeling the whip kiss their helpless bodies! They, however, will at least remain upright on two feet whereas a dog like you...”

She paused for effect nodding as her victim shrank back to the rear of the cage just as all these foolish creatures did. Well, it would soon learn that there was no escape, not from the cage, from her or her domain nor from its future.

“Two choices,” she affirmed. “I will turn you into an obedient dog, a big puppy dog that will do anything its owner commands without a second thought merely at the snap of her fingers. Anything. If she so much as points to a dog turd in the street you will sniff at it and then if she desires, gobble it down as though it were the best thing you have ever tasted.”

She paused to laugh.

“It might even be the best thing you will have tasted for a while. I will bind you into a dog suit or other suitable restraints, and you will learn to walk on your knees and elbows, you will bark and whine and howl, but never again will you speak like a human. You will eat dog food from a bowl and lap water. You will cock your leg against a tree or similar to void and then only once a day when permitted. You will beg, roll over, fetch and chase sticks. You will sleep in a basket curled up. You will also learn to lick. To lick hard for that’s the only human contact you will have from now on when you deep tongue your owner’s cunt and ass or anything else she wishes to see you use your doggie tongue on. Your dick will be locked away. Maybe if you are a really good boy, you may be allowed to hump her leg or a cushion on rare occasions – or maybe if you piss her off she’ll have you neutered!”

She stopped to look at Tracy. “That is always an option as well, you know. The procedure is not actually all that complicated."

Tracy shrugged. “Maybe, depends I suppose on how well it behaves. I think I’ll pass on that for now, but I’ll keep it in mind,” she smiled evilly at the cowering youth.

“So, Dobby, like I said, there are two ways I can do this. One, I will do everything I have said and I will change you but, and it’s a big but, I won’t mess too much with your mind. You will be a dog in all but form, but a part of your mind will still be human. I will leave a small part of Mister James Michael Winston Dobson resident inside your head, but I warn you now, if I do that you will suffer a lifetime of mental torment and anguish. Don’t imagine for one moment that I am not capable of doing what I said!”

She paused again to allow her words to sink in. James Dobson stared at her in horror then from this frightening woman to the other two, but he saw no sympathy, nothing but cruel amusement on Tracey’s face, and bored indifference on her companions face. He turned back as Mrs Mason finished off.

“Choice two, which in many ways is the kinder. I will do everything I have promised, but in addition I will break your mind as well. It will be painful, much more painful than the first choice, not that there won’t be a great deal of pain with that choice as well. I will shatter your mind, and when I am finished, I will hand Tracey here a complete dog, a dog with no mind of its own, a dog no longer capable of independent rational thought outside of its bestial existence. I will make you into the complete animal, albeit probably a happier one.”

“Kinder?” Sonia queried.

“Of course, kinder. Would you want to spend a lifetime grovelling down there in a puppy suit or in a stable like those two miserable creatures over there? They will go mad with boredom and misery long before old age starts to take its toll. Well dog, time to make that choice. Is it to be a softer introduction but a lifetime of conscious living hell or a vastly more painful introduction but then the bliss of just living a mindless day to day existence, living merely to please and enjoying all the little rewards that come your way? Time to choose boy, time to decide.”

The van was well into the return trip. Tracey was still in the driving seat and Sonia was getting more and worked up as she mauled her reluctant little doll. Tracey was feeling the hots as well now, thinking about what would be happening back at the house they’d just left, now that the crate in the back was empty. No good looking to Sonia for some fun, she’d be out of the van with that squirming little bundle under one arm and up to her bedroom before she’d even got the fucking handbrake fully on.

Oh well, there was still Cutiepie to play with. Maybe she’d take the old bitch down to the playroom and give her a good dusting. Mmmm, when she thought about it, the bitch hadn’t had a good thrashing for a while, and she had gotten a tad uppity of late. Nothing you could put a handle on but just a certain attitude that she didn’t like. Yeah, a good beating that would get her juices flowing and then the bitch could stem the flood as she’d been trained to. Yeah!

Sonia broke off. She was getting way too hot and needed to cool it otherwise she’d spoil it for later. Anyway, if the little bitch thrashed about anymore, she might strain something, and that would be bad news for both of them. She lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply then turned to blow a cloud of smoke at her pet. Sheesh, the little madam hated that almost as much as the chewing gum. Now that was a new idea, take a deep drag and then clamp her mouth on those cute cupid lips and transfer the smoke. Now there was another humiliating little titbit to help break the little bitch in.

“Big Ethel’s gonna charge you an arm and a leg you know?” Sonia observed blowing a long stream of smoke out through her nose.

“Yup, hope she’s gonna charge for both arms and legs and all the other bits,” Tracey laughed. “But he’s gonna be so darn cute; I’m gonna have the biggest spotty dog in the whole fucking world!”

“Well, at least you’ll save a bit on the dog suit. You made a good call the other week, worked out pretty damn well for both of us. You get your big spotty doggie, and I have my sexy little doll.”

“Yup, not far now, about another thirty minutes. Wanna stop and pick up a burger or a chinky takeaway or summit?”

Sonia considered. “Nah, I got an urge for something even tastier,” she laughed. “A very urgent hunger, maybe a sandwich later, much later,” she added, winking at the girl beside her.

“So why do you think he chose that one then?”

Tracy laughed, “No idea, not much of a choice overall was it. Still, I was fair; it was his decision, not mine. ”

Sonia nodded. “Yup, you were perfectly fair. Dobson’s choice. Two choices but no choice at all. Yup, a real Hobson’s choice! Oh, for fuck's sake, put your foot down a bit gal.”


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