Day 3C
"Somethings missing." I told the sobbing girl whilst bending down to grab hold of one of her wrist.
"No. Please don't touch me. Please just leave me alone."
Her weeps bled into cute little coughs, making her gasp as her panicked breathing choked her. She was blubbering pleas, sometimes finding herself unable to form coherent sentences as she cried and continued to shiver. Those frost led shakes, jittering movements of her arms made it so difficult for her to cover herself but she tried her best regardless, feebly trying to pat my hand with her right while she hid away her naked breasts with her left.
Looking into Tash's eyes, I could see just how desperate she was to get away from me, and more importantly, the cameras. Her face was bright red. More so than it had ever been. This was the first time she was bound to a gynaecology chair or left suspended in the air by handcuffs. This was the first time since she had arrived here when we hadn't restrained her in bondage. It was the first time that she could think about covering herself away from the unwanted glare of the camera lenses.
"Why are trying to cover up for cunt? We've already posted your naked ass for the entire world to see."
That statement hit Tash particularly hard causing her already crying to well up like two overflowing pools. She screamed about how we were monsters, shaking her head in denial, refusing to believe it. All the while, she kept her arms folded over her chest and her legs tightly crossed, pulling her thighs together and smearing the red lines that had trailed down from droplets of her blood.
Judging from how she screamed when she curled herself into a ball, Amanda's assault with the toilet brush must have really tenderised her insides, making her cry out when she tried to squeeze her legs. Tash hammered her hands into the floor to try and subdue the pain but then quickly realised that doing so exposed her breasts, leading to her rolling over to cling onto the tiny sliver of dignity that she had left.
Her efforts just made it easier for me to grasp onto a clunk of her wet brown hair, allowing me to viciously yank on it as if I was trying to scalp her. She yelped and then tried to fight back, harmlessly hitting my leg, only to collapse as I buried my knuckles into her back. I ended up striking her shoulder blade, knocking her to the ground. She started whimpering immediately in submission, rendered suddenly tame by fear, but that didn't stop me from clocking back and this time aiming for her liver.
A mouthful spit sprung from Tash's mouth when my fist made contract and she felt what it was like to have all the air knocked out from her lungs. When she then tried to tell me to stop, nothing but breathless gasps escaped from her throat, leading to me socking her helpless body again before I let her drop, allowing her to collapse with a gentle splash onto the wet floor.
"As I was saying before being so rudely interrupted, something's missing. Can you think of what it is Tash?" I asked her.
She shook her head no, sadly tilting her face from rapist to rapist, hoping to find someone who might be willing to show her a crumb of sympathy. She was too afraid to even cower away or resist when I took hold of her hair again and forced her to stare directly into the camera.
The sobbing girl begged with crying puppy dog eyes, mouthing "help me", to everyone watching. In the moment, Tash made such an adorable fuck pet. The only thing that was missing was a collar and leash.
It was Amanda who showed her it, presenting the sturdy looking leather band for our bitch to see. Her weary blue eyes locked on to collar before she looked up at us in shock, shaking her no as she begged to not be degraded like this.
There were so many things that she begged for by merely shaking her head, saying so much and yet remaining silent. There was her disbelief that this was happening to her, that we would do this to her. Sadness and embarrassment at the thought having to wear a dog collar. Disheartening dread at the idea of being collared and leashed, domesticated like an animal.
She kept whimpering when Amanda wrapped it around her neck, physically shrinking when she felt it against her skin. The back band contrasted wonderfully against her pale skin, constricted tightly around her throat when Amanda tugged on the end of it and then buckled it in place.
"Too tight. It's too...tight!"
"Shut up." We both told her, taking turns to slap her face and tits while her fingers were preoccupied trying to rip the collar off.
Tash immediately tried to get her fingers into the narrow gap, struggling to wiggle anything more than the tips of her nails. Eventually she regained enough composure to stop suffocating herself and went for the buckle, forcing me to pin her hands behind her back while Amanda sealed the collar permanently with a heavy padlock. With it locked shut, there was no way that Tash could remove it herself, even with bolt cutters. Not without the key. One that had long been lost somewhere on the farm.
Besides, why would anyone ever want to remove it from Tash's neck? The dog collar looked perfect on her with it's thick leather strap and convenient metal loop. It was the only piece of clothing that she was ever going to need, especially with how I had run a knife all the way around the inside of it, scraping away the soft velvet inner lining to make sure the collar would cleft and aggregate its wearer.
Amanda then attached a chain leash to it and gave it a sharp yank, pulling Tash to her feet on all fours. "Such a cute mutt. Can you bark for me, Tash?"
"No!" The leashed dog sobbed in reply, shocked that anyone could ask her that.
"Don't you like our gift? It goes so well with your new tattoo."
"Fuck you!"
A hard kick to her ribs cut her off before she could throw anymore insults or protests.
"What a bad puppy. It's such shame. And here I thought I was going to be nice to you and offer you delicious can of dog food. Oh well, I guess you'll just have to get fucked up your ass instead."