Keep...kept...confined...caged....
(Oh, to be not merely bound by society's
strictures; not by law or morality or convention.
No, more than that and none of that.)
Cold steel bars, bright chains,
leather and rope....
He pats her ass and winks at his friend.
Then pulls her down across his knee,
pulling up her dress and tearing aside her panties,
exposing her to the other man sitting at the table,
his hand caressing her naked flesh lewdly,
then landing
with a resounding "crack"
again, and
again, and
again,
until....
She flees the kitchen in panic.
"I'll let the dog out."
she says brightly.
Feeling the smooth, bright
chain slide between her
fingers as she clips it onto
the collar.
The collar pulls tight around her neck,
she hears the "snap" of a lock in the hasp,
the "click" as the leash is secured to the ring.
The bright, sibilant hiss of the chain as it falls
in a chilling and thrilling cascade
between her naked breasts.
He stands there smiling,
holding the leash
of his favorite bitch....
She flings open the back door.
"Bend over, bend over, let me see your ass."
Like some children's game.
The chain pulls tight and she bends like a reed.
The dog bounds into the yard, yelping with joy.
sniffing at the fence, the roses, the sky;
rolling on her back in utter abandon.
Reed, wand, switch....
It stings her naked flesh.
She throws back her head and howls.
"Yes, howl! Let me hear you scream!"
Over and over, urging her on, to
the pit of pain and the heights of frenzy.
The wind plucks at her bright print dress,
making it flutter and lick across her legs,
between her thighs.
Naked and sweating, on all fours now,
she crawls behind him to the stake in the yard,
crawling naked across the suburban back yard,
her breasts hanging free, the wind cooling
the wetness that has seeped between her legs.
The chain
and the bitch
are secured to the stake.
She rubs against him, against his legs,
nuzzling her face between his legs.
He backs away,
She bounds forward eagerly, sniffing
hungrily at his crotch.
But the chain has pulled tight,
keeping her from her goal.
She whimpers now,
struggling against the tight collar,
against the chain.
His hands caress her now, bring new sensations,
teasing and testing her.
She howls again, louder.
Vibrating with a puppy's eagerness,
a puppy's utter abandon.
"Yes Master? Yes? Please?"
Then she turns and presents herself to him,
a bitch in heat.
Her naked need gleaming in the sun,
whining and whimpering.
"Donna, honey? Are you all right?"
Howling out her need,
because human words
no longer sound in her head.
She turns and looks at him with feral eyes.
And the great black beast beyond the fence
begins to howl.
