Laurel's Ordeal =============== Laurel jumped to her knees as soon as she heard Takashiru's Mazda sportscar pulling into the garage. Hastily she spread her thighs, sat on her heels, jutted out her breasts, pressed her chin on her chest and clasped her chained hands behind her neck. If her master found anything less than perfect in the required position of submission and disgrace when he came to her, the punishment would be severe. A number of cigarette burns around her nipples testified to this. She was kneeling on the wooden floor of the back porch, completely naked, save for her leather collar and the wide leather cuffs on her wrists and ankles. A long silver-toned chain, jingling and shining in the summer sun, attached her collar to a corner post of the porch. Next to her sat a pair of plastic dog pans, one containing a few crackers and chunks of celery and carrot, the other holding some water. Her name was written in red paint on the side of both pans. She took a few deep breaths and quietly prepared herself for the routine afternoon beating. Over the past week this had developed into a kind of daily ritual, so that Takashiru could release the tensions from work by mercilessly abusing his slavegirl's naked body. On a normal day, Laurel knew, he would storm into the porch within seconds after arriving home, dropping his expensive suit, tie and Italian shoes all the way from the garage to the back door. But things were different today. More than ten minutes after Laurel heard the garage door close, her master still had not come out. Instead, she heard footsteps running up and down the stairs, and a girl's cheerful giggles and exaggerated screams filling the house, interrupted now and then by Takashiru's roaring laughters. He had told Laurel this morning that he would bring his girlfriend over after work. Apparently he had kept his words. A few more minutes passed. Just when Laurel was beginning to wonder whether she would be spared of the routine torment today, the glass door slid open, and a girl's bare legs bounced into her sight. "Ha! I found her!" the girl shouted gleefully. "Come here quick, Takashiru; she's waiting for you!" Keeping her head down, Laurel stole a glance at the girl from the corners of her eyes. She was a petite oriental girl with a cute round face, about the same age as Laurel, clad in nothing but a white cotton shirt. The open front of the shirt seductively revealed much more than it hid. Takashiru emerged from the house, wearing only his boxer shorts. "All right, Sumiko, you win," he mocked a sigh. "There goes my last little secret. Anyway, I hope you like my new slavegirl. Her name is Laurel, by the way. Aren't you happy to see me, Laurel?" The kneeling slavegirl knew exactly what was expected. Without a word, she walked up to him on her knees, and bent down to kiss him on both feet. "Good girl," Takashiru patted Laurel on her blond head, "now show your respect to the lady." Obediently, Laurel turned to Sumiko, and pressed her lips lightly on each of the girl's bare feet. "Oh how sweet!" Sumiko exclaimed. Leaning on Takashiru's shoulder, she lifted Laurel's chin with her toes. "And pretty, too. Where did you find her, Takashiru?" "At the state college; where else can you find beautiful young chicks who would work for peanuts? The state just raised the fees by thirty percent this year, and these girls are getting desperate for cash. For a few thousand bucks, they'll do anything for you." "Anything, huh?" "Yeah. Watch this." Takashiru detached the chain from Laurel's collar, and kicked a slipper into the back yard. "Go get it, Laurel!" he yelled. After spending a week with Takashiru, such degrading treatment had become quite natural for Laurel. She jumped from the porch on all fours, and crawled to the target as fast as the chains between her wrists and ankles allowed. But before she was half way across the lawn, a large German Shepherd suddenly darted out from the house and raced towards the slipper. Startled and petrified, Laurel watched with wide eyes as the dog picked up the slipper between its teeth, ran back to Sumiko and dropped it by her feet. Takashiru and Sumiko almost choked in laughter. When Laurel crawled back to the porch in total humiliation, Sumiko commented breathlessly: "Well, Takashiru, looks like I've got a better puppy dog than yours." The German Shepherd, meanwhile, was getting rather restless. It circled around Laurel several times, and then trotted towards Sumiko to rub its thick fur on her legs, growling in its throat and looking up pleadingly at her face. Sumiko immediately realized the dog's intention. Her face blushed slightly, looking rather embarrassed. "No, Morgan!" she slapped the dog lightly on the head. "No way! No! Sit! Sit, Morgan! Bad boy! Bad bad boy!" "What's with Morgan?" Takashiru looked at his girlfriend, and then at her dog, curiously. "My brother spoiled him too much," Sumiko giggled. "There was this hooker that my brother used to bring home all the time, a blonde like this girl. And my brother used to let Morgan...you know, when mating season came." Stars of evil began to twinkle in Takashiru's dark eyes. With a wide grin he murmured: "Hm... Now that's not a bad idea." The chains jingled, and Takashiru turned to find the nude slavegirl curled up in a corner of the porch. Shaking slightly, she crossed her hands in front of her chest, and pulled her legs up against her belly. "Hey, watch it, slave!" Takashiru wielded his fist in Laurel's face. "You are not keeping your position!" "Please...don't..." Laurel pleaded in a small, trembling voice. "Don't what?" "The dog...please, master..." "Well, when you agreed to be my sex slave, I did tell you I'd let my friends fuck you, didn't I?" "But...not a dog! You never said anything about a dog!" Laurel was almost in tears. "So what? See, Sumiko is my girlfriend, right? Morgan is her dog, right? So Morgan is also a friend of mine, isn't he?" Takashiru grinned triumphantly, apparently quite proud of his quick-wit logic. Knowing the futility of arguing with him, Laurel simply hugged herself more tightly, and shook her head: "No." "OK, then." Takashiru waved a hand in the air, as if throwing off the idea. "Like I said before, you have the right to call this whole thing off any time. If that's what you want, just stand up and say it. You are free to leave, and the deal is off." Watching Laurel blinking her eyes in hesitation, he added with an wicked smile: "But remember, Laurel, if you leave now, don't expect me to pay you a penny." Laurel bit on her lip and wrestled hard with herself. This was not the first time she had been confronted with the question. She had had to force herself against the impulse to leave on the very first night with Takashiru when, after a long and harsh whipping, he chained her in the porch and made clear she was to stay there for the whole summer, day and night. She had made the same difficult choice when Takashiru lent her to a neighbor's kids for an afternoon of "horsy-back riding." This time, once again, the realistic concerns of her financial needs won over what was left of her sense of dignity. Quietly, she returned to the kneeling position, and kissed her master on the feet. "Now that's my slavegirl!" Takashiru planted a loud kiss on her bare back, and then slapped her on the butt. "OK, sweet cunt, go get ready for the show. Move it!" Fighting back her tears, Laurel positioned herself on all fours in the center of the porch. Immediately, the German Shepherd trotted up and started rubbed itself on different parts of her body, growling loudly and happily. Goosebumps appeared all over Laurel's skin. Takashiru sat down in a swing-chair a few feet from the mismatched pair, and pulled Sumiko towards him: "Come sit here, dear. It's -- show time!" Letting her shirt slide down her shoulders and drop to the floor, the oriental girl bent down to press a soft kiss on her lover's cheek, "Their show," she asked in a seductive voice, "or ours?"