My owner was early this morning. I had just sat down with my second coffee. In his hand he held a small bag.
“Come over here.” I got up and crossed over to him, nervous. What did this mean?
Without explanation he opened the bag, pulled out a thick leather collar and four thick leather shackles and placed them on the sideboard. He reached once more into the bag and pulled out five small padlocks.
Why now? Thoughts raced through my brain. Had I done something wrong? Racking my brain, I frowned. Then a new thought interrupted these thoughts, nearly made me laugh. Would I be able to shower and shave with these things?
He reached out, touched my hair. “And a trim,” he muttered, let his hand run down my neck. I did not understand, shot him a confused glance. Smiling he reached for the collar. “Just this weekend. I want you to get a check-up and a haircut.”
Frowning I reached up, held my hair with one hand out of the way. He fastened the collar around my neck, slid one finger underneath it, before he reached for the padlock. “That will do.”
We were going somewhere. For some days apparently. The collar wasn’t too tight, but I could feel it heavily around my neck. While he fastened the shackles, I wondered. Would this be all I got to wear? In public? Like a dog on a leash? But his dogs never wore collars.
After closing the padlocks at my ankles, he straightened up again. Once more he reached for the bag, pulled a black leather leash from it. He fastened the leash to my collar and gave it a short pull. “Come on.”
Unsure what he was expecting from me I followed him. One step behind and on his left side. The stone slabs were still cool under my bare feet. After noon I would not be able to walk on them.
We walked in silence for quite some time. Suddenly I realised where we were headed. The small landing strip and his private plane.
And sure enough, after we stepped around one hedge there it was. Two men were standing there, waiting for us. The pilot and the young man in the suit who had brought me here.
I stopped dead, felt the the leash yank as he walked on, and the leash straightened. No one except my owner – and his dogs – had seen me naked so far. Another sharp pull and I walked on, reluctantly though, fixing my gaze on the ground.
“I want you to piss before we board the plane.” One swift glance around and I started towards the bushes, but he held me back. “Here.” I bit my lip, feeling uncomfortable. Even now I still felt ashamed to piss in front of him. And here were two strangers. He waited, started to talk to the young man. I did not listen, tried to brace myself for the embarrassment. Slowly I crouched down. I didn’t really need to pee. I wanted to say that, but stayed silent. Once we were airborne there would be no opportunity anymore. And he had given me an order, so I had to try.
Blocking out the people around me was hard. I concentrated on mental images that contained water, flowing water, the sea, a waterfall. That did the trick in the end. Clearly visible – and audible – I pissed on the ground. My cheeks burned with shame as I looked around for some leaves. None again. I wriggled my ass to shake off the droplets.
“That’s my girl.” My owner smiled down on me, petted my head before I straightened up again.
The pilot had opened a small door in the rear. In the semi darkness I could make out some kind of transport box. While I was led towards that door the young man approached us, held out two capsules and a glass of water. “Take these, and the flight won’t be boring.”
I looked at my owner and he nodded. “They make you sleep.” I reached for them, washed them down with the water. They tasted of nothing, the water was refreshing and cool on my lips.
Whatever it was, it was working damn fast. Even before I had reached the door, I felt my legs go wobbly, my limbs felt like jelly. It was hard to focus, even to keep my eyes open. I felt hands on my body, a cold surface beneath me, then darkness swallowed me.
“…overdone it a bit.” The words reached my brain as from far away. They made no sense, but I had a feeling that I should know the voice. My father, telling someone I had drank too much?
Registering the hard surface under my body I pushed that thought aside. Collapsed during training? That would fit, if I was lying on my back, not on my belly. The faint antiseptic smell would fit with that thought as well. Then I felt the hands on my body.
I tried to open my eyes, but they seemed to be glued shut. For an instant bright light blinded me, after that I kept my eyes shut.
“Don’t worry, most things can be done while she is still out.” That voice was new. “We will have the results tomorrow,” the man went on. “Do you need anything else? Contraceptives? Some modifications?” The words made no sense to me. My body felt heavy, I felt dizzy. Trying to move I discovered that I seemed to be tied. My wrists and ankles seemed to be fixed to something.
“No, I need nothing, thanks anyway.” The first voice again. A warm fuzzy feeling grew inside me. My disorientated mind connected that voice with the hands on my body. Boyfriend? Did I have one?
Slowly some memories seeped back, and I groaned. Owner. Collar. Being somewhere, naked and bound.
“She’s coming round.” Another pair of hands touched me, slapped me gently on the cheeks. “Let’s try to get her on her knees, that makes things easier.”
I just wanted to get away from here, curl up somewhere and sleep the rest of the drugs off. Instead hands reached under my body and pulled me to my knees, steadied me there. “Come on.” My owner’s voice was close to my ear and I smiled. I could do it. My legs trembled as I knelt there, but he held me, steadied me with his strong arms. I tried to open my eyes again.
It was an examination room. Slowly I looked around. I was kneeling on a metal table, my shackles fastened to rings at the sides. My owner seemed good humoured, smiled at me, as I discovered that I was able to kneel with little help from him.
“I can see why you prefer ferals.” The other man laughed, and I heard him walk behind me. This made no sense either, but I didn’t care. It would soon be over. Metal clinked on metal, steps behind me. Without warning a hand between my legs. I flinched. Something touched my pussy-lips. Something hard and cold invaded me. Whimpering I tried to get away, but my owner’s hands and the shackles held me in place.
“Don’t mind that, she is still groggy,” he explained, and I raised my head. He smiled down on me and I tried to turn my head, look around but that motion made me dizzier. All I could so was just kneel there and listen to words that made no sense, feel.
The man behind me did something, I felt stretched, widened, pressure in my cunt. He muttered something. Out of the corner of my eye I was able to see him reach for something. “Swab first.” I heard, felt something inserted in my cunt. It was small but still uncomfortable. A memory stirred. I knew the feeling. An examination. Some kind of…
Shaking my head to clear my fuzzy brain I fought against the drug. I should know. The stretching instrument was withdrawn, a hand entered my cunt, another pressed against my belly.
Gynaecologist. Suddenly it made sense. It had felt different because I was on all fours and not in a chair. Why hadn’t he told me? But he didn’t have to. For two years and a day I was his property.
Silently, head hanging low, I endured the rest of the procedure. It was distressing, he wasn’t exactly gentle, and it seemed to last forever. Finally, it was over. He withdrew his hand and I heard the sound of gloves being removed. “All in order as far as I could feel.”
Footsteps and he came into my view. A small man, grey-haired whose glasses sat on the bridge of his hooked nose. He wore green scrubs, wrinkled and untidy, and he looked at me indifferently before he crossed over to his laptop and started typing.
“Did you give her a name?” I wanted to protest. I had a name. Why should he give me a name? But his answer startled me. “Les.”
That was short for my name, Lesley. Of course, he knew. A wave of gratitude swept over me, made my legs tremble again.
The doctor nodded, reached for a big syringe. “Let her lie down and hold her. They usually struggle a bit.”
My owner laughed, a short barking laugh. His big hands pressed me down. My legs gave way and I couched on the table. He pressed my shoulders down, held me firmly in place. There was no point in struggling and so I just closed my eyes again, tried to hold still.
I felt something cold hit me between the shoulder blades. It was wiped away, so it must have been disinfectant. Pain shot through me as the doctor inserted the big needle. I gasped, tensed up, felt my owner’s grip tighten. There was pressure, as if something was inserted, then the needle was withdrawn.
Stroking my hair my owner muttered a soft “Good girl”, loosened his grip.
“Just checking, then we are ready.” I heard and the doctor was back at the table, a kind of scanner in his hand. He held it over my back, and I heard the beep. They had chipped me. Just like a dog, a cat… a pet.
“Shall I keep her here for now or are you taking her to your room?” “I’ll just take her, shouldn’t be long now.” I felt someone untie me and I opened my eyes again. My owner lifted me up and smiled. “Let me know the results when you have them.” He nodded once more and turned around.
I closed my eyes again. Right now, I didn’t want to see anyone. Or rather, I didn’t want anyone to see me, but since I could not influence that, I opted for the other possible option, not having to see who saw me.
After a while he opened a door, closed it behind us and laid me down on a soft surface.
Pretending to be still dizzy I kept my eyes shut. His hands touched me, stroked me gently and brushed my long hair from my face.
So, I was chipped now, had been examined, had a name again…. I was thankful for his mistake with the drugs. Heaven knew what else they had done. The part I had been awake for had been humiliating enough.
I felt him bend over me. He was so close now I could feel the heat of his body. “I will remove the chip, when I set you free. Rest a bit. I’ll get some food.” Once more I felt his hand in my hair, then he was gone.