{"loaderData":{"4":{"story":{"id":"1f64a4cc-dd93-4de0-ad4f-72c9b58821dc","seriesId":null,"seriesName":null,"currentUserId":"00000000-0000-0000-0000-000000000000","added":"2022-12-06T20:37:58.71Z","title":"Bone and knot kennels","slug":"bone-and-knot-kennels","shortId":"nJbFgz0j","authorNote":null,"disclaimer":null,"type":"Novella","paidUrl":null,"synopsis":"This is a story that is based on (the kennel masters)\nFollows an institution in which women are trained to become pet girls while being coupled with other dogs","partCount":2,"parts":[{"partId":"8da0a888-b729-466c-97d4-4b630ea62cc0","title":"Prologue","summary":"“Right, lets get started,” said Sam, opening a drawer in the unit next to him, extracting a tablet a","wordCount":2633,"readTime":13,"number":1,"state":"Published"},{"partId":"16dcfa54-408c-4e58-bc11-ef075a5e29ef","title":"Chapter 1","summary":"The kennels were kept on a tight routine giving a sense of normalcy and pattern to the dog-slaves in","wordCount":1218,"readTime":6,"number":2,"state":"Published"}],"currentPart":1,"contentTitle":"Prologue","content":"

“Right, lets get started,” said Sam, opening a drawer in the unit next to him, extracting a tablet and tapping the screen until it lit up. After studying it for a few moments he indicated the nearest occupied pen where a near frantic German shepherd was waiting to greet him.

“Hello, Schmidt!” greeted Sam, enthusiastically as Nick unlocked the pen’s padlocked door. He stepped inside and rubbed the dog’s ears as it jumped up at him. “Have you been a good boy then? Keeping your bitches in order?”

Beyond the dog, Sam could see the other two occupants of the cage; two human females, both secured by a short chain of only a few links attached to a floor ring at one end and a collar around their necks at the other. Both wore dog suits, as did all the dog-slaves in the building. They consisted of a skin-tight suit of a light-weight, stretchy, yet tough synthetic fabric which covered the wearer almost completely except for a few strategic apertures. The suit’s arms and legs were short, designed to force the wearer into an animalistic all-fours stance with their limbs doubled over tightly. There were thus no holes for hands or feet; the suit’s limbs extensions were like narrow tubular bags, with wearer being forced to walk on knees and elbows. These were suitably protected by “paws” consisting of thick, gel-filled pads held within facsimiles of canine paws made of tough plastic.

In addition to the suits, which were appropriately colored for a variety of breeds, the dog-slaves wore a suitable snout mask face piece. This incorporated an integral ring gag which acted like a bit, fitting snugly into the wearers mouth but remaining attached to the snout’s exterior at the sides. The limits of the gag size are adjustable.

Looking at the two bitches, Sam was very happy with the suits; very little that was human was visible. The suit of the slave on the left proclaimed her to be a beagle, all floppy ears, blunt snout and brown and black markings, while that on the right was a greyhound with short grey fur, a slightly pointy snout and semi-erect ears.

Sam refreshed his memory from the tablet inventory. The beagle was called ‘Bailey’ and the greyhound was ‘Shadow.’ Sam scanned their details. It had been 9 weeks since Bailey the beagle had come to the kennel from Glasgow. She was 29 years old…no…30, her birthday had been last week. Before, she’d been Anna Farley, a primary school teacher. Her entry photo showed an overweight woman with a round pudgy face, framed by straight, drab, shoulder length brown hair and wearing a voluminous calf-length patterned skirt and a brown cardigan. Not exactly a glamour-puss, but that was not unusual in the typical dog-slave; their human appearance became completely irrelevant.

He glanced at her now, from where he was standing. The tight dog suit left little to the imagination and he could see that the regime here had effected a transformation as, in place of the hefty physique visible in the photo, the delicious curve of her rounded rear and waist were clearly visible, bisected by the, semi-rigid rod that supported her white-tipped beagle tail.

He remembered his instructions following her processing had been that she was on the doggy weight loss program. Dog-slaves were just like any other dog when it comes to weight loss, feed them less and exercise them more. That regime was still in place and he saw that it had been nearly two days since she had last eaten. That explained why he could see her straining on the chain to lift her head enough to follow the food bucket with her eyes.

But, she would have to wait just a bit longer. The rule in the kennels was that the dog-slaves ate last. All the pens contained a male guardian dog which was trained, among other things, to enforce a crude pack discipline on up to four human charges. Given their helpless, vulnerable condition, most of them quickly became subservient to their canine keeper. Everything about the kennel routine was meant to reinforce the pack order: trainers, male canines, then dog-slaves. A dog-slave’s body belonged to the pack and, being at the end of the order meant that she obeyed what those above her commanded.

Unusually, Bailey was a solo admission to the kennels. Most dog-slaves came as the submissive to a dominant partner but Bailey had had little luck in love and apparently wanted some change in her life. She had never actually been intimate with a dog before but that was soon taken care of upon her arrival. Schmidt had done the honours, a duty for which he’d been well trained. There was no grand ceremony or pomp; once she was in her dog suit, she and Schmidt were kenneled together until they had completed the task. Her notes showed that Schmidt, had a dozen or so pairings with Bailey since then, once just a couple of days previously.

The greyhound, Shadow, was significantly younger; she’d just turned 21 when her new husband had admitted her for training. The notes said she was a university student and talented computer programmer. Shadow’s name had been Sarah MacDonald and her photos showed a thin, lanky brunette who, though no head turner was attractive in a girl-next-door sort of way. He could remember helping process her when she’d first arrived and discovering, that she heavily padded her bra. Though her dog suit had the typical holes, her small breasts and trim figure were a good fit for the greyhound look. Her husband clearly had a preference for this body type as he had a successful pack of male racing greyhounds at home. She looked every bit the part and would fit perfectly into the pack aesthetic. For the time being, though, she would be paired with a variety of males as was standard for the training program.

Leaving the notes, he now scooped a large amount of the food mix into an elongated bowl along one side of the pen and let Schmidt wolf down his share. Then he grabbed a long hose to fill an adjacent water bowl.

Returning to the notes, he moved slowly across the pen to stand over the two dog-slaves. He’d already noticed their short leashes which forced their heads virtually to the floor with their ‘forelegs’ splayed out to either side. Now he could see their hind legs were also secured using straps and light chains to floor rings on either side of them, holding them spread widely apart. Shadow was also wearing a muzzle over the greyhound snout secured by a leather strap around the back of her head. Normally the dog-slaves were left to sleep in their bed baskets with only a neck chain as a restraint, so this was unusual and probably a punishment inflicted by one of the night shift. Although a submissive, Shadow was known for being fiery. The muzzle she was wearing served as another psychological blow for the wearer but also had a practical purpose in serving as a mount for a dildo gag which passed through the ring gag in her snout and filled her mouth. It was likely a punishment for attempting to be vocal towards one of her handlers.

Sam let Schmidt out into the dog run for some exercise and then, reaching into his pocket he removed two leather leashes. Reaching under Shadow’s head, he clipped one of them to the steel loop in the front of the pink leather collar she wore. Then he released the chains from the collar and her legs and pulled her firmly onto her stubby legs evoking a muffled yelp. Now he could see the muzzle and its gag more clearly; she had been drooling heavily around the intrusion and a pool of it was accumulating on the painted concrete beneath her head.

Then Sam looked more closely at the gag as he began to loosen the muzzle. The dildo was one of a standard range used in the kennels; constructed of medical grade silicon in the shape of a dog’s penis, complete with an inflatable ‘knot’ in its shaft. He removed the muzzle from Shadow’s head and slid the dildo from her mouth. Her head swung down when he released it as she coughed and heaved repeatedly. It didn’t look like the dog-slave had enjoyed her experience one bit and Sam wondered if it might go some way to towards curbing her rebellious outbreaks.

Sam looked at Bailey. She had not been gagged. Instead the limits on the ring gag in her snout had been set to its narrowest setting which served to prevent illicit attempts at speech. Despite that she tried to bark as if to remind him she was still there and hungry. Given his attention to Shadow, she was probably afraid she wasn’t going to be fed again today.

Sam was pleased she’d displayed such canine behavior. Dog-slaves often came to do so eventually but it typically takes a long time to instill instinctual canine behavior. He remained fully aware that, under the floppy ears and fur hood there remained a human brain that was figuring how to get by in a strange environment. Many, perhaps most, eventually came to the realisation that acting like a dog would win them favours, but normally it took a while to overcome their pride. It was a surrender of sorts, a mark of progress and needed rewarding. Sam crouched resting the tablet on the floor and digging into one of his coat pockets to find one of the treats he carried there; a piece of jerky he had coated in a thin layer of chocolate.

“Hyvaa, tytto! Hyvaa tytto!” he said crouching by her. She had no idea what he was saying, but the tone was clearly praise. Sam was speaking in Finnish, or least and approximation of it. He had no idea whether his pronunciation or grammar was correct but that was not the point. She didn’t need to understand them literally, just the tone in which they were said and the context in which they were used. In that way, any feeling of human to human interaction was removed and the dog-slaves came to learn communication with their handlers as any animal would. It was a simple technique but had proven to be an effective one.

Sam expanded the limits on Bailey’s gag slightly as he held the treat under her snout and waited patiently as her mouth pursued it across his palm. Finally the bitch managed to scoop up the treat and Sam saw a shudder of pleasure run the length of her body making the stiff, forward curling rod of her tail swing from side to side. He imagined the chocolate must taste incredible after nine weeks of an intense diet, although the meatiness of the snack must be strange and a suitable reminder of her canine status.

Still crouching by Bailey’s head as her jaw worked on the treat, Sam glanced back at Shadow. She whined piteously and then imitated Bailey by giving a decidedly canine “Arf!”

Sam grinned to himself knowing she was attempting to manipulate him, ingratiating herself by giving him what she thought he wanted. And that was fine by him. She was right; such dog-like behaviour was exactly what he wanted and her display of it, manipulation or not, still meant he was winning.

He walked to feeding bowls, pulling Shadow with him. She was eager enough and no doubt hungry. Dog-slaves always were. They were fed just once a day except for any tidbits they could find lying around. Such scrounging behaviour was encouraged by handlers who often deliberately left small morsels of food around for dog-slaves to spot during their daily activities.

Sam manoeuvred her over the long food bowl. Schmidt would receive a supplementary meal later in the day something that usually happened in the presence of his charges; another way to emphasise his status. What was left in the bowl was a cold mass of rice, vegetables, and stewed beef, with a healthy splattering of dog slobber, but Shadow knew it was all she’d get that day and was keen to eat.

Sam clipped her leash to a ring on the side of the pen and knelt down. He adjusted the size of her gag to allow her to scoop the food into her mouth more effectively with her tongue. Then, leaving Shadow where she stood, he turned his attention back to Bailey. She’d finished her treat and was whining to herself anxiously, obviously wondering if she’d be allowed to eat from the bowl. Quickly Sam leashed her and released her neck chain, pulling her up as he did so.

“Seurata!” he snapped, which literally meant ‘follow’ but Sam had used it in place of ‘heel!’ for a long while.

Relishing her good form and pace walking behind him on the end of the loosely held leash, Sam crossed the pen to the feeding area. Bailey was trembling with a combination of hunger and a pathetic excitement at the prospect of being fed. Sam unclipped her leash and immediately the bitch plunged her face into the bowl and began wolfing the mixture as best as her snout allowed her. Shadow was less keen and hesitated slightly before she too lowered her face and began to eat.

Pleased with the progress the two bitches were making Sam stood, unclipped and pocketed the leashes and looked down at them for a moment as they fed, now seemingly oblivious to his presence. Both were facing away from him their forelegs splayed and hind legs spread to allow their heads to reach low enough to feed. Sam chuckled to himself. Modesty was another human trait that quickly vanished in the kennels and both bitches anuses and vulvas were on totally open display through their suits. The rubber tail rod along their backs translated the movement of trying to access their food into a satisfying wag. Without context, one would have to look twice to notice that these bitches were other than born canines.

Their tail pieces could be fitted with a plug shaped to simulate dog penises of varying breeds and thus sizes. The standard for this purpose was the collie version; five inches or so of firm silicone with an inflatable knot the size of a lime. The plug contained a powerful, remote control vibrator which was supplemented by a variety of internal motors which, when activated made the faux cock writhe and squirm.

Below their tails, both bitches sported much the same adaptations to their vulvas. The flesh of both organs contrasted strongly with Shadow’s grey greyhound fur and with Bailey’s white beagle hindquarters. The labia of both were more prominent than the norm, swollen and bulging tightly outwards. The reasons for this, Sam knew, lay in the design of the suit opening surrounding the vuvlas. This had cabling around it to keep the lips pressed together to prevent unwanted sex with the guardian dogs.

Visible within the engorged, enfolding labia, of both dog-slaves glimpses of silver showed other adaptations. At the bottom, Sam knew, was a clitoral shield, a stainless steel cap which covered the bitches’ little buds, fixed there by two bars piercing the organ’s hood. These were easily removed by a twist of the fingers but for the dog-slaves, lacking the use of their hands as they were, their best source of physical pleasure was removed from their control. Even rubbing themselves against a convenient object or each other would bring them little stimulation through the insensitive shiny steel. The further potential of the device had been obvious to Sam and he had quickly adapted it by adding a tiny vibrating cap which could be triggered by the remotes. The end result was hardly larger than the original cap and had proven to be a highly useful training device.

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