Nusquam

The nurse reaches for a leash, calling out to the large hound.

“Do not fret, 128. The dogs here are well trained. You be obedient and you’ll not feel a thing. But failing to carefully follow will be painful for you, understand?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Her tone expresses both surprise and capitulation, forced to subordinate herself to a dog. She will indeed need to heed Rex, the slightest tension on the leash squeezing the clamps of the cunny harness to bring quick and intense suffering.

“Ah, one last item. A little challenge for you... and to keep those nice breasts well presented.”

With that, the thigh bands are again connected by a hobbling chain. 128’s steps will be many, short and rapid, her rippling and rolling mammary glands sure to impress.

“Milking parlor, Rex,” the nurse commands, the nurse clipping the leash to his collar.

With a deep formidable ‘woof’, Rex acknowledges, and as if aware of the threatening cunny harness, very gently turns to the door. 128, forgetting about the hobbling chain and unaccustomed to being under such direct canine control, stumbles forth, the clamps instantly tightening to bring a howl of pain.

“Oh 128, do try to keep up. You’re otherwise going to have a very painful journey,” the nurse’s hand slapping her branded right cheek.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Tethered to a dog... and led about at the end of a leash!

Despite the discomfort, the leash gently jostling to ever so slightly squeeze the cunny clamps, 128 feels the strange joy of the masochist... the intense humiliation giving rise to arousal. Despite the tropical temperature, she peers downward to see her thrusting nipples crinkle to pencil points, announcing her lustful reaction to her embarrassment.

Members stroll by as Rex leads. They smile knowingly, 128’s breasts flopping with her many short steps, her arousal not to be denied.

A nurse stops the duo, giving Rex a friendly pat.

“Good morning, 128. Enjoying your stroll?” the query coming with a mocking snicker.

The hand moves towards 128’s mons. The trained subjugant knows to present herself, always receptive to inspection, her cunny lips held open by the clamps, surely inviting examining fingers.

Two fingers glide inward and playfully diddle.

“No need to answer. Your cunt speaks for you... such a naughty girl, tsk tsk tsk.”

128 blushes. The Nusquam members and staff know so well... fully aware of the quirkiness.

The fingers withdraw, the nurse holding up her wet digits, glistening in the sunlight. She smiles.

“Yes, you’re enjoying. Where is Rex taking you?”

“To the milking parlor Ma’am. To see Nurse Traite.”

“Yes, indeed,” the hand moving to palm left breast then right, the thumb teasingly grazing over the hardened nipple. “I’m sure you’ll be letting down for her... turn these into udders... stretched and ready for the teat cups. Girls like you enjoy that. Is that right?”

“I don’t know Ma’am.”

“Well, do be obedient. The Mastiffs tolerate no mischief.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

The nurse strolls off. After a pause, Rex saunters onward, 128 knowing to quickly shuffle as best as her hobbling chain permits. Sensing her breasts bouncing with each labored step, the brief words of the nurse give rise to thought. Is the milking parlor where she will serve out her term of servitude? The tranquility of the facility so oddly contrasts the stables... and the unending stressful bondage of the communal dorm.

Yes, the human cows appeared contented, she realizes smiling to herself. Yet, if that is all there is... will such contentment suit her?

Rex advances his pace. The clamps send controlling messages, squeezing her cunny lips and clitoral hood. 128 gasps in pain, obediently responding as best she can. And she also feels familiar twinges. She feels herself moistening. Pain has always brought odd excitement. But tethered to a dog, led about naked, hobbled and bound? Why does this bring arousal?

The milking parlor is in sight. The journey close to an end. But then comes a command.