Life With cow

Return to Pauline's Web Page

I sent cow out on an errand today. She doesn't get out nearly enough, it makes a nice change for her. I had something that needed to be delivered up on the other side of town. It was much too far to walk, even for cow, so I let her take the bus. That meant she had to dress up for the occasion. She can't take the bus or the tube the way she normally is, in her stinking clothes and with her nose chain that freaks everyone out. She's had the chain for years, it's nothing decorative, just a fairly heavy hardware-shop chain about a foot long, padlocked to her thick nose-ring. The skin has toughened up around it, so she can take amazing punishment. Sometimes I leave her tied up by it overnight, other times I hang a heavy weight and make her dance around. But it's not really suitable for riding around on the bus. The same with her clothes. Usually her clothes, old tee-shirts and cut-off jeans, spend their time, when she isn't wearing them, in a bucket full of old piss and shit and other filth. It feels horrible next to her skin, much worse than keeping her naked, and the stench is almost beyond belief.

So for her errand, I dressed her up a bit. She had an old pink tee-shirt, dirty and a bit smelly in an unwashed kind of way and covered in stains of all kinds, but not actually stinking, and a brand new pair of cut-off jeans. Brand new to her, that is - I paid two pounds for them a few days ago at the charity shop, completely worn out and filthy, holes in the knees and covered in dirt and grease. Once I hacked off the legs with a bread-knife (with uneven lengths) they were perfect for cow's outing. To complete the picture, she was wearing an old, dirty and smelly pair of bright pink opaque tights, with a few holes and ladders. Shoes can be a bit of a problem. Bare-foot isn't really any good, some buses won't let people on with no shoes. Luckily I found some really cheap, tacky Essex-girl white stilettoes, badly scuffed and worn out but still wearable. The heels aren't really fetish high, but high enough. To make sure she doesn't slip them off when they get uncomfortable after a few hours, I made some ankle straps that I rivet closed before she leaves - no way to get them off without cutting them, so even though they're not very strong, I'd know if she had. To make things a bit less cozy, I punched a couple of big holes in the sole, so when it's wet her feet stay cold and damp. They were a couple of sizes small for her, so her toes were squashed inside them, making them much more uncomfortable after a while.

From the outside, what you see is a dirty, slutty girl, sexy in a very shabby sort of way. You wouldn't want to take her on a date, but you probably wouldn't mind shagging her in an alley if you got a chance. You couldn't, though, because of what she's wearing underneath. She has to make up somehow for not having her nose chain, and for not stinking. So she's wearing thick rubber panties, thick enough to make it just about impossible for her to rub herself and come through them - which I know she'd have done a dozen times if she could, the slut. Normally, she wears a kind of wire-mesh speculum in her anus, which makes her completely incontinent so she leaks all the time. She'd end up too smelly like that, though, and even without it her stretched anus leaks all the time - and it'd be just like cow to deliberately shit herself, too, even though it would mean a long walk home. (She already did this once, and had to walk ten miles home in heels and in the pouring rain. What can you do with a girl like her?) So I put an inflatable plug in her, pumped up just enough to hold it in place and stop her leaking too much. And in her brazen little cunt, I put a big hard rubber dildo with nasty little spikes all over it. It's very uncomfortable, it had me in tears after a couple of hours. So she can't be fucked, but I gave her strict orders to offer a blowjob to anyone who suggests anything like that - which they surely will! She also has her catheter, and a little piss bag tucked inside her rubber panties so she can't piss herself either. And just to make sure she doesn't get too comfy, I put half a dozen vicious little metal clips on her inner labia and her perineum. Crushed up against her tender flesh by the rubber panties, they'll chafe and hurt with every step she takes.

So that's how I sent her out, with just her Oyster card and the package to deliver.

Several hours later, she was back. I could see that every step was hurting her, and I could see why too. The dirty pink of her tights was streaked with faintly pink pussy juice all down the insides of her thighs, the cruel dildo must have been hurting her terribly. I'd made her walk the last couple of miles, every step hurting her thanks the tight shoes on her feet, the clips on her flesh and the evil the plug in her cunt. It had been raining, a typical English drizzle, and she was soaked and must have been chilled to the bone as well. As she came towards me, her face screwed up in pain and she started to cry. I took her in my arms and hugged her, her wet clothes soaking into mine. My tongue found hers and despite the terrible discomfort, she was soon very aroused. I could taste the cum from the blowjobs she had given.

But I stopped, and asked her if her cunt was hurting her. Of course she said it was. I asked about her feet and legs, and they were hurting her too.

"Would you like to take your shoes off and that horrible plug out of you, and just sit and relax?"

cow loves to suffer, it's what makes her so amazing, but sometimes it can be just too much for anyone. "Please Pauline, please, it all hurts so much i can't stand it any more. Please let me relax." She'd been desperate to end the pain and discomfort, to get back home and stop the misery. I know the feeling exactly, when Anna torments me like it - although I'm not even a hundredth as much of a pain slut as cow.

I told her to take her shoes off. she started to thank me but I shushed her, as she stood there in her bare feet, the pink tights soaked up past her ankles. Her relief quickly disappeared, though, as I sent her over to where a pair of really punishing shoes were sitting on a shelf. The heels are over six inches high. She started to cry again, but she put them on as I told her. Then I bent her over and gave her thighs a vicious caning. The tights would be no good any more, not even for cow, which was a pity, they split in several places as the cane hit her and buried itself deep in her bony legs. After a dozen or so strokes she was screaming, blood oozing out of the weals and soaking into the tattered remains of the tights.

"There, that should all take your mind off your cunt, shouldn't it?" She nodded miserably. "So now you should be good for a bit more walking." Her screams had subsided and she started to sob. But I was merciless. Soon I was installed comfortably in an old lawn chair in the long yard at the back of the house, watching cow totter unsteadily up and down, her wrists bound uncomfortably behind her back so she had trouble balancing. Quite often she would stumble, twisting the plug inside her bruised cunt and crushing the clips into her battered flesh. I was counting her stumbles out loud, and every time it got to ten, I gave her another beating. I'd taken her tee-shirt off, so her tiny tits were exposed, tormented by another pair of vicious clips on her nipples, and I'd put her nose chain back, with a fairly heavy weight on the end. A couple of times I lifted the weight up and then let it drop, making her screech in pain.

Needless to say I was very turned on by all this, helped by frequent little clit rubs as I imagined the pain and distress that cow was feeling. Eventually I couldn't stand it any more. I beckoned her over, pushed her to her knees, and made her lick me. Once I'd come - which didn't take very long - I told her to do a striptease for me. Still unsteady in her heels, she pushed down her shorts and slipped them off, then her rubber panties which were slippery with the mess that had oozed out of her pussy. I made her lick them clean before I allowed her to push the tights down around her thighs, then I yanked the dildo out of her, twisting it at the same time. All of the space between the spikes was filled with thick mucus where her tender flesh had tried to protect itself. I took one long lick myself, savouring the strong, bloody taste, before I passed it to her to lick completely clean. As she did that I pumped up her butt plug, so that instead of being just big enough to stay in place, it filled her completely, stretching her full bowels. Her catheter bag was full to bursting, that would be another treat for her later.

It was time for her reward. I pushed her to the ground, on her back, her arms awkwardly twisted behind her.

"Hungry?" I asked. cow doesn't eat normal food - she gets shit, when there's some to spare, slops and swill of all kinds, the more revolting the better. So when I crouched over her mouth, she knew immediately what was coming and opened up wide, so as not to waste anything. I'd been saving myself up for her. I slipped my plug out. As I started to lick it clean my bowels exploded, filling her mouth with runny shit, covering her face. I could hear her gulping it down as I let loose another flood, and then another, then pressed myself down hard onto her nose and mouth, suffocating her with my shit until she started to spasm. Without releasing the pressure on her face, I started to rub her clit with my forefinger, quite gently. Her struggles got more and more desperate, even as her bottom started to thrust. Finally I relented, bowing my head to bring my tongue to work on her.

I'd planned to use the same dildo to torment her cunt, but when I saw how sore she was I realised that I just couldn't do that to her. So I had an even bigger one, with longer spikes, which I thrust into her just as my tongue reached her clit and just as her mouth was finally free. She screamed, splattering my bottom with wet shit. I rammed the punishment dildo into her, tore it out again, covered in slime and blood, and thrust it in and out as my tongue caressed her clit. When she was just on the edge I bit her clit, as hard as I dared, and rammed the dildo deep inside her, twisting it and tearing at her bruised insides.

It was a long time before she stopped screaming as I tortured her clit and her cunt. Finally she had no energy left and it was time to let her relax. I released the pressure in her butt plug, which shot out of her followed by a stream of near-liquid shit, forming a stinking puddle under her bottom. Then, as she started to relax a bit, I carefully positioned my clit over her mouth. As she started to lick me, I gently rubbed her sore clit with my finger. I just love the feeling of being licked through a thick film of shit, and very soon we both came again.

But all good things have to end. I climbed off her and carefully scooped up all of my shit that had, inevitably, slid off her mouth. I crammed it into her until she was choking and gagging just because her mouth was so full. While she dealt with that, I scooped up her shit from the puddle under her bottom and spread it all over her. I rubbed as much as I could into her hair, then more on her face, her tits, her belly, her cunt and her bottom, until she was just a shitty, stinking brown mess all over. I crouched over her mouth again, and this time emptied my bladder into her, slowly so she could swallow it all. She gagged and choked a couple of times, but before she could recover I disconnected the piss-bag from her catheter and poured that into her mouth too, then clamped my hand over her nose and mouth. I thought she was going to explode, and at one point piss came spurting out of her nostrils as she tried to swallow it all.

A quarter of an hour later I was upstairs in my own flat, where I'm currently writing this. cow is locked in a wooden crate downstairs where she is getting some rest. I made her shuffle indoors on her knees, her hands still bound behind her, her body, face and hair thickly smeared with drying shit, right into the crate. It's about three feet long, a bit narrower, and lower still. At each end there are doors that drop down flat on the floor, and can be locked shut. 

Her nose ring is locked to the bottom of one end, and her ankles are chained to the other end. Her wrists are still locked together behind her back, so she can hardly move at all. She's still wearing the pink tights, pulled up around her waist again, holding her shit tight around her bottom and cunt. I took the metal clips off her pussy lips and her perineum, but left the ones on her nipples. I scrubbed inside her cunt with a stiff brush and some special stuff that Anna gets for me - it stings like hell but it's antiseptic and disinfectant and full of antibiotics and such. And she was gagged with a huge ring-gag that holds her mouth wide open. After a while it's much more uncomfortable than a ball gag.

And then I left her. But the trouble is that now I'm suffering from a very serious case of pain slut envy. When I torment and torture a guy, it really turns me on, and the more turned on I get, the harder I want to make it for him. I have to be careful not to overdo it - although there a lots of people who'd say that I do anyway. With a woman, though, it's different. It turns me on even more, making her squeal and scream and beg for mercy, watching her squirm and writhe and try to escape from the lashes or the giant dildo or whatever I'm using. But now my excitement comes from imagining myself in her situation, suffering along with her as the whip falls again and again on her bruised flesh, or as she licks dried-up shit from the sole of my shoe. During a session it takes all my willpower not to rip the punishment dildo from her bloody pussy and ram it into my own, raping myself with it violently until I scream. And afterwards, while the victim lays whimpering in a heap on the floor, it's even harder to resist.

So I'm sitting here writing with a giant punishment dildo inside me, even bigger than the one I used on cow, with brutal spikes and ridges. Every time I contract my cunt muscles they dig into my flesh, sore and bruised from where I've repeatedly thrust the dildo in and out. In my anus is a huge inflatable plug, pumped up until it crushes my bladder and squeezes my tender flesh against the dildo. Tight rubber bands around my generous tits turn them into giant purple torpedoes. You can almost see them throbbing with my heartbeat. Sharp metal clips punish my nipples. Earlier I put on my seven inch heels and tottered carefully down the stairs, then up and down the yard just as cow did earlier until my thighs were trembling and I could barely stand. I'm still wearing them, although I confess I'm sitting now, my legs still hurting from the effort. I wolfed down a tub of rotting shit, days old and truly disgusting. I'm ashamed to admit that I puked and, following my own rules, I had to start over again and persuade myself to eat it. Every belch fills my mouth with its foul stench. My clit is so sore that I think she's bleeding, and my cunt muscles are totally, utterly exhausted.

I really did mean to leave cow in her box for a couple of days, but in the end my craving to share her pain and to hold her in my arms was just too much. We spent last night together in my bed - a rare treat indeed for cow, who hasn't had a bed of her own since I've known her. Normally she spends the night on the floor or in a cage or a crate, in some kind of uncomfortable bondage. But I just couldn't resist, hugging her stinking, shit-covered body against me, feeling her sharp bones against my soft flesh, pushing my fist deep inside her, licking her bloody juices as my finger gently rubs then tugs at her clit, feeling her stinking breath on my face as she screams and squeals. 

When she climbed into bed with me she showed no sign of gratitude for being spared a night in the cage, or on the hard, cold concrete floor. She swung herself over me and before I even realised what she was doing, had splattered a stinking pile of runny shit over my tits and belly, which she proceeded to massage all around my tits, my super-sensitive bruised nipples, and my tummy. I almost came from the pleasure, but she wasn't done yet. She licked it all up again, rubbing her clit at the same time so she was coming with her mouth full of her own shit. Then she rammed her fingers down her throat and puked, showering my face with revolting shit-puke. I opened my mouth and caught as much as I could, but most of it missed, leaving me covered in brown stinking filth. As I was still choking and trying to clear my nose, she grabbed my clit between her nails and twisted. I screamed, spraying her with brown vomit, and came so violently that it hurt.

After that it was a wonderful night! I'd wake up, feeling the roughness of the dried shit covering her body, rub her clit, then duck down to suck her, waking her up. She let out a long fart and a big glob of runny shit which I worked into her cunt with my tongue. Or I'd wake up to the feeling of her fingers on my clit, then sit up lazily and press myself down on her face, her tongue pressing deep inside me as I pissed into her mouth. In the morning, as we awoke fully, I fucked her hard with the punishment dildo while she did the same to me, then I licked the bloody mess from between the hard spikes. Heaven!

Eventually we were both completely exhausted. We slept like babies long into the morning, then it was time for breakfast. I made something especially revolting to refresh cow after all her exertions. She eats almost nothing, and only the most digusting things when she does. And even then she eats almost nothing unless she is encouraged. But she has to eat - she's painfully thin. I mixed up a big bowl of revolting filth, starting with a dish of rancid semi-liquid fat, dirty and full of half-burned bits of food, which I mixed with dry cattle food - a great source of extremely unpleasant protein, for slaves. To that I added a generous amount of rotten, days-old shit. The resulting greasy, gritty stinking gloop was pretty unpleasant, but I had a couple more little touches, to add a little texture. The butcher had given me a bowl of fat and gristle which I'd left standing for a few days, so the outside was hard and dry but the inside was beginning to rot. The pieces were too big to swallow whole, so they have to be chewed. Finally I added a big spoonful of garden dirt, making every mouthful gritty and really nasty to eat. I stirred it all up, put the dish on the floor. Before I could stop her, she'd squatted over the bowl and added her own special sauce, some runny shit and a little lake of piss, which she stirred in with her nose - since I'd already taken the precaution of fastening her wrists behind her back. Then she started eating. I took a handful myself and crammed it into my mouth. It was truly horrid, the grit crunching between my teeth as I tried to chew the huge lumps of dried-out gristle and fat, the mixture of grease and cattle feed clinging to the inside of my mouth. The combination of the foul taste and the horrible texture made me gag, my free hand wandering down to my sore, throbbing clit. I took a second handful and shoved it into cow's cunt, then sucked it out, digging my tongue deep inside her to find every last scrap of our little luxury breakfast.

She'd eaten about a quarter and was starting to slow down, waiting between mouthfuls. She knows she is absolutely not allowed to do this, once I've put "food" in front of her, she has to eat it as fast as she can, every single drop and lump and smear, without hesitating or pausing. So as a first warning, I shoved my fingers into her throat and made her puke it all back up again, into the bowl. Soon her belly was empty again, the filthy stinking shit puke added to its horrid contents. She stirred it all up again with her nose, and started eating. I slipped the cattle prod into her cunt, pushing it hard against her cervix, and gave her a short, mild blast. She screamed and started to sob. This is the one thing that cow truly can't stand. She hates any kind of electric shock, and with the prod I can reduce her to a sobbing wreck in seconds. With it pressed against her cervix she will obey absolutely anything.

It took a while for her to empty the bowl, and four or five shocks when she hesitated. Her skinny belly was visibly swollen, her face covered in the smelly mess. Her tears (from the shocks - she really hates them) had made cute little trails. I just couldn't help licking her face clean, or cleaner anyway, and then one thing led to another and soon we'd licked each other to one more giant orgasm.

"There, you're and full now, aren't you?" I asked her, once we'd got our breath back. "Would you like some more?" I gave her just a tiny jolt from the cattle prod.

"Please Pauline, please, no more, my belly is bursting. And please please please no more shocks."

"Just a little dessert then," I said, and squeezed out a couple of turds into the bowl.

"Please Pauline, I just can't..." she screamed, then started to sob, then screamed again, her screams getting higher and higher and louder and louder. Finally she stopped, coincidentally when I took my finger off the button. She sobbed, great heaving sobs, her whole body convulsing.

"Go on, I'm sure you can squeeze in a little more!" I encouraged her. And still sobbing, she slowly ate what would normally be a treat for her. But with her swollen belly it was a struggle, she gagged a couple of times and I rather hoped she would puke up the whole lot and have to eat it all again. But she didn't, and this time I was merciful with the prod, sliding it out of her before I led her away.

That was a couple of hours ago. Now she is locked away in her cell in the basement. I'll leave her there for a few days, shivering in the cold and damp, bound awkardly and never able to get comfortable on the hard stone floor. Her nose chain is locked to a ring in the wall, so the only way she can rest is to lean her head against the rough, cold bricks. By tugging painfully on her nose she can just about get her mouth to the floor, where a puddle of dirty water allows her to drink. Her arms are still bound behind her back, to stop her getting up to anything, and one ankle is chained so that her body is always twisted awkwardly. She'll spend the time twisting and straining, trying to get  at least a little comfort, shivering in the chill and the damp. After a while her aching muscles will make her seek another position, equally strained and uncomfortable. It will seem like a very long time for her. I gave her a good beating before I left her, so her whole body is bruised and oozing blood from her wounds. And I gave her a good fucking with the punishment dildo, so she has plenty to distract from her discomfort. For once her anus is left unplugged, but she has a big adult-size nappy to catch her shit and piss. By the time she is released her foul breakfast will long since have been through her system. The content of the nappy, days old rotting shit from something that was disgusting to begin with, will be really awful, perfct for feeding to a visiting slave.

I have to visit her once though, to remove the big ball gag I gave her. I don't think she's capable of making herself puke by sheer willpower, but she might be. So I gagged her until her stomach has emptied and she can't puke. In a few hours I'll go down and remove the gag, maybe give her another beating and another good fucking. Then I'll really have to use all my willpower to pretend she isn't there for a few days and ignore her. Luckily I'll be busy, I have a couple of slaves visiting and a lot of other things to do.

In case you think I'm being terribly cruel - and you probably do - I have to explain that this is exactly what cow wants. If I made things easier for her, she'd be extremely unhappy. Her fantasy is to be locked up, abandoned, left helpless to rot. She begs me to mutilate and handicap her permanently, destroy and chop off her fingers and toes, something I just can't bring myself to do. She has to make do with having her hands and feet bound to make them useless, her anus held wide open so she is incontinent. Her biggest fantasy of all is to be tortured horribly to death, as slowly as possible - crucified or impaled or skinned alive, after being broken on the rack, preferably all at once. And she means it.

cow lived for a long time with my friend Spike, who is the archetypal butch dike. Spike humiliated and punished her in every way she could - because she loved her. But in the end it was all too much even for Spike, which is how come cow is now living with me.

When Spike found her, cow was living on the streets, sleeping rough, eating out of rubbish bins. She made what little money she needed by begging and turning the occasional trick. She was filthy and stunk, so even by street-whore standards she wasn't very appealing - for the most part, it was only drunks and tramps who wanted her. She appealed to Spike, though, in a waif-like way - she'd pay twenty pounds to feel her pimple-like tits, rub her cunt until she came, then have cow return the favour.

But one cold, wet night Spike went looking for her and she was nowhere to be found. Asking around, she finally found her huddled under some old boxes, cold, soaked, shivering with fever and barely conscious. Even so it took an effort to persuade her to go home with Spike. She'd decided just to die there on the street, and even in her semi-delirious state she was as strong-willed as ever.

Spike took her home and nursed her back to health. She had pneumonia, and her body was so skinny and weak that she had no natural defences. Spike made her eat, and after a few weeks she no longer looked like an Amnesty poster. She wanted to leave, to go back to her miserable life on the streets, but Spike persuaded her to stay. She had to agree to a deal though. cow would only stay with her if she could be Spike's toilet, be constantly humiliated, punished, tortured, kept in the worst, most degrading conditions possible. One condition was to be violently fisted there and then. It wasn't exactly what Spike had in mind, she was pretty disgusted with herself the first time she used cow as a toilet. But she knew that despite appearances, cow was in control - if she stopped abusing her like this, cow would simply disappear, most likely to die miserably on the streets in some other town.

And that was the start of a beautiful relationship. cow was constantly humiliated, in public as well as in private. She only wore cheap, dirty clothes, never more than a tee-shirt and shorts or a short skirt, and went bare foot most of the time. Spike kept a special bucket for cow's dirtiest clothes, where they soaked constantly in piss and shit. Whenever possible, cow would just pull her clothes from the bucket and put them on, damp and stinking. This was mostly how I saw her, since we generally met at places where she could dress like this.

Keeping cow isn't very expensive - as I know. She mostly eats scraps and leftovers - and shit of course. But still, Spike sent her out to work, in unpleaant, menial jobs that paid badly. She took every penny that cow earned - although, unknown to cow, she saved it all up, and passed it to me along with cow. It doesn't amount to very much, but I add to it whenever cow makes any money, and sometimes when she doesn't. Mostly Spike found the jobs through people she knew, and she made sure her employers knew to work her hard, to mistreat her, even to beat her and to use her as a sex slave and sex toy when she could get away with it. cow has told me a lot of stories about these jobs.

One of them was with a "port-a-loo" company, you know, the portable toilets that you get on building sites and at festivals. It's hard to imagine a more appropriate job for her. Mostly she worked at the depot, cleaning the toilets up when they were returned. Usually they were filthy, caked in mud. Often they were worse, men just can't control themselves when they piss and then they would end up in such a state that people couldn't sit on them, so they'd just shit in a corner and things would go downhill rapidly. cow cleaned them all up with her hands and a dirty rag, or just her mouth and tongue sometimes, licking up dried-out piles of anonymous shit. Mmm, I'm getting quite wet just writing about it. It was winter, and she worked outside in all weathers, never in more than a tee-shirt and a short skirt, her bare feet frozen in the wet dirt and mud. The only time she went indoors was if the boss wanted a blow-job or to fuck her, which was quite often. Sometimes he'd send her out with one of the trucks, inspecting and cleaning up the toilets out on site. Then it was the drivers who knew they could get anything they asked for. Mostly they were quite timid, just wanting a wank or a blow-job, but one was a real sadist. He would lead her around a building site on a rope tied round her neck, inviting the builders to fuck her or spank her. She'd come back with her cunt and her anus full of cum, her bottom bruised, and her mouth full of the shit that he'd forced her to lick up. She loved it.

The trouble with cow, though, is that she's greedy. The worse she's treated, the more she wants. So poor Spike was constantly having to invent new things, and mistreat cow in ways that she really didn't enjoy much herself. cow pleaded with her to be mutilated, to have her fingers and toes crushed, things like that. And over time, it all became too much for Spike. She started to want to have someone she could just sit down and have a meal with, without having to constantly humiliate and punish her. Like most real-life love stories, this one does not have a good ending. One day Spike met a really gorgeous lipstick lesbian, as different from herself as you could imagine - cute, pretty, always very feminine in expensive dresses and high heels - and not at all interested in a threesome, especially with smelly cow. They wanted to live together, but what to do with cow? And that is how come she ended up with me.

She was upset at first - she really loved Spike, in her own bizarre way. But she wasn't given a choice, one day Spike nailed her up in a box with her few stinky belongings, and had her delivered to me. I have enough space that cow isn't a problem. If I'm fed up with her I just lock her in the cellar for a few days, or even weeks a couple of times. She's useful too, sometimes as an assistant when I'm mistreating my slaves, and sometimes as an extra victim. There are men who are just as turned on abusing cow as they are being abused by me. There are others who really get off being abused and humiliated by my stinking, waif-like assistant. So it's a good deal all round.

I just got back from settling cow down for her long session in the cellar. It'll be at least three days now before I go back down there. It will take a lot of willpower, I have to admit. When I went down there, as I opened the door I could smell that she had already filled her nappy. I carefully took it off her. It was filled with stinking, runny shit, and soaked in piss - delicious! I longed to press my own face down into it and slurp it all up, but that just wouldn't do - although I did have just a little lick, to confirm how disgusting it was. Then I yanked the dirty hood off cow's head and pushed her face into the nappy, smearing the content into her face and up into her hair, before fastening it behind her head.

"That'll be a nice reminder of why you should try to keep yourself under control, won't it?" I said, as I removed her gag. "Thank you, Pauline" was all she said.

I just couldn't ignore her shit-covered bottom, it was too tempting. I licked her clean, slurping up the half-liquid in long strokes and savouring the foul taste. My cunt was dripping wet, one finger on my clit. When her skin was clean I pressed my tongue deep inside her stretched anus, working it around and in and out, seeking every last morsel and streak of her shit. Suddenly she let out a long, stinking fart, then filled my mouth with a sloppy turd. It was absolutely delicious - but at the same time I couldn't let that kind of impudence go unpunished. Still turning her little present round in my mouth, I got up on my knees and spanked her bottom as hard as I could with my bare hand. This can be incredbly painful if it's done right - and trust me, I know how to do it right. She started squealing, then her squeals turned to screams and pleas for mercy. I kept spanking - though my hand was starting to hurt like hell - until she didn't even have the energy to scream, and just moaned in pain with each blow. I was carefully making my fingertips fall in the same place each time, making little dark bruises there against a sea of bright red - very pretty. I stopped when my arm started to hurt, then I put my tongue to her pussy and finished cleaning her up, teasing her clit but not quite letting her come. She was moaning again but now she was saying, "Please Pauline, you bitch, let me come...". This was a bit impertinent too, so without warning I shoved my hand into her asshole, halfway up to the elbow, opening my fist up inside her and pressing into the soft tissue lining her rectum. Now she came, in great explosive gasps with contractions that nearly pulled my hand off. It was very satisfying, and even more so when I took my own turn, pressing my clit against her mouth - all that was visible of her face under the stinking nappy. It was an awkward position, but I kept my hand inside her, twisting and tugging at her anus and her insides, and we came together, cow spluttering shit all over me as it oozed out of the nappy. I yanked my fist out of her, provoking another scream, and pushed against her mouth for her to lick clean.

It was time to leave her, but I was worried that she wasn't really in enough discomfort. After all it was supposed to be punishment, punishment for being cow since there wasn't really anything else to punish her for. One of her ankles was already shackled, at an angle which meant she couldn't get into a comfortable position. I took her other foot and carefully pushed a long needle through the soft flesh under her toes, with a ring between the second and third toes. Then I ran a chain from one of her cunt rings to it, too short for her to straighten her leg. Every time she tries to stretch, it will tug not only at her pussy but also at the swollen, irritated flesh of her toes. Combined with all her other discomfort this will become really unpleasant for her. I explained to her exactly what I was doing, gave her a final thorough fisting in her cunt, and left her to suffer.

Thanks to the wonders of technology, I can watch and listen to her suffering from the comfort of my armchair - there's a small infra-red camera in the cellar. For now she's not moving much and making no noise at all. That will change as she gets more and more uncomfortable during her imprisonment.

I've never wanted to live with anyone else since I left home - I like to have what Americans call "space". But having cow stay here isn't the same thing at all. For one thing I send her away quite a lot, sometimes for weeks at a time, to places where I know she will get the bad treatment that she craves. And when she is here, she spends most of her time locked up somewhere. Occasionally I let her spend an evening or a night with me. I really enjoy talking to her, believe it or not she's an interesting person to talk to, with a wicked sense of humour.

Even when she comes up for a cosy chat, she's still in serious bondage. I have an old pair of ballet boots, with the heels broken off, and I often make her wear those. They're way too big - they were originally used for male slaves with much bigger feet, so they slither around on the ends of her legs. Just to be sure, they have nails through the toe and under the heels, so any attempt to put weight on them pushes the nails into her flesh. With those and a heavy pair of leather mittens, it's as close as I can get to her fantasy of having her hands and feet chopped off, reduced to slithering about helplessly. I hook her nose chain to something high up, so she has to sit upright, a stick or huge dildo pushed deep into her cunt and stretching her with every fidget, and we talk about all sorts of things. That was how we came up with the totally fictional story "The End of Cow", which had her wetting herself with excitement (me too, if I have to tell the truth) as we came up with ever-more hideous punishments for her, and her final agonising death. 

Sometimes I'll lock her chain to my ankle while I eat, throwing her disgusting scraps like rotten fish that I make her eat whole. Once I got some dead rats from the pet-shop. After a couple of days for them to start to stink, I made her eat them whole. She really didn't like that much, but the perpetual threat of the cattle-prod in her cunt is enough to make her behave. She eats shit - whenever she can get it. In my business, shit is something I can never get enough of - I need it to feed to my paying slaves, to smear in their faces and on their bodies. Not to mention how much I like it myself. cow has to be forcibly restrained from eating her own, and pounces upon anyone else's that she sees. Hers is perfect for my slaves. I really fill her belly to bursting for a couple of days before, feeding her every rotten and disgusting thing I can find, keeping her tightly plugged. Then they get the pleasure of a flood of already half-rotten filth flooding out of her into their mouths and over their faces. Yum. And I must confess that a few times when things have been quiet, I've done the same but then had her shit into my mouth, rubbing all the spillage into my tits, belly and cunt, then having cow lick me clean again. Mmmm. But I digress.

Very occasionally, like last night, I let her sleep in my bed. I love it, feeling her warm, bony body against my rather more ample flesh, the stench of her shitty breath in my face, her piss and shit dribbling over her legs as we sleep together. I run my fingers over her cuts, weals and bruises, push my fist deep inside her cunt as she moans in pain and pleasure. Other times I let her sleep on the floor, bound in an uncomfortable position. As the night wears on and her discomfort becomes hard to bear, she whimpers in pain, tugging at her chains and rings, squealing as something tugs on a sensitive spot. Lazily, I slide out of bed and piss on her face, or put some extra clips on her nipples or clit, then squat over her face - if she isn't gagged - so she can lick me.

But most nights she sleeps somewhere else, either in the cellar, like tonight, or in the back yard. On a typical English night, chilly and damp but not really cold, she spends the night out there, held in position by her nose chain, hogtied or spread-eagled or in some other awkward bondage. I had a slave make a kennel for her, just big enough for her to climb into. That's good when the weather is colder and even cow needs a bit of protection. Or I'll set her a task to do in the cold and dark, digging a deep hole or moving my big pile of old bricks (perfect for keeping slaves of all kinds busy).

Three more days have passed. cow is resting in comfort now - by her own standards at least - lightly shackled in the back yard. It's a pleasantly warm day, though it rained earlier, and the straggly grass and damp mud are much softer on her bruised body than the brick floor of the cellar. I watched her during her three days of confinement, thanks to the camera down there. She would be still for a while, then moan and shuffle around trying to reduce her discomfort. Sometimes she would tug on the long needle through her toes, and would yelp in pain. Sometimes I'd hear her sobbing for hours, watching her struggle against her bonds, sometimes writhing around wildly trying to overcome the cramp and pain in her muscles and joints. I watched her struggling to get her mouth down into the filthy puddle on the floor and drink, tugging painfully at her nose ring. I would wake up in the night and go to watch her - the infra-red camera doesn't care what time it is. I felt so sorry for her yet so aroused by her suffering at the same time. Part of me desperately wanted to go down to her, to release her bonds and take her in my arms, caress and lick her bruised flesh, feel her lips and tongue on my cunt. But a deal is a deal. And I was so turned on watching her, I'd rub myself gently for hours, slowly building myself up to one orgasm after another as I listened to her whimpering. Once she called to me, "Pauline, Pauline, I know you can hear me you bitch, please, I can't take it any more, it all hurts so badly. Please come and help me." I came straight away. The tender part of me - and god knows there is one, I love cow like my own little sister - was pleading with me to help her. But, despite everything, it's not what she wants.

Finally I did go to her. As I entered the cell she tried to twist around to see me, then sobbed in pain as her bonds tugged at her broken flesh. "Hello cow, how are you feeling?" I said brightly. She just moaned, then screamed as I stamped on her swollen toes, grinding the sole of my boot into her foot, crushing her flesh against the needle that had pierced her toes for the whole three days. Only when her screams had turned to whimpers did I yank the needle quickly out of her flesh, making her scream again. The big shot of antibiotics I'd given her had done its job, there was no infection although the flesh was very swollen. I released her other bonds, letting her lay on the floor, her muscles at ease for the first time in days. Then I took off the filthy, saturated nappy, stinking with days-old shit and piss. "Peckish?" I asked. She nodded weakly and turned over on her belly, hungrily slurping up the filth, her first food in days. Her guts spasmed as she swallowed, runny diarrhoea dribbling out of her and washing some of the sticky filth from her bottom. My tongue went to her, greedily licking up the filth from her then teasing her clit, feeling her weakened body start to tense. It was a long, delicious time before finally she yelled in pleasure, her bottom thrusting high in the air, her arms and legs flailing. As she finally relaxed, I lay down beside her on the hard, lumpy, scratchy floor and took her in my arms. I licked the congealed filth from her face, revelling in its truly putrid disgustingness, pressing my lips to hers, pushing my tongue deep into her mouth, salvaging a few morsels of what had been in her nappy. I squatted over her face, pissing slowly and carefully into her eager mouth so that not a precious drop would be lost. I stayed with her as she dozed, holding her stinking body tight to me. Very soon my body ached terribly from the hard, cold floor, god only could know what it must have been like for her.

Eventually she was strong enough to follow me up the stairs. I'd prepared a real feast for her, some stale bread soaked in my own fresh enema, a big jug with the rest of the enema for her to drink, two raw eggs scrambled up with the crushed shells and only slightly congealed, some rotten fruit, a couple of only slightly rotten fish-heads. Despite her usual reluctance to eat, she was really hungry and wolfed it down ravenously. I was peckish too, so I shared some of the bread. Yuck, I'm sure you're thinking, but I promise you it's delicious.

Then she kneeled between my legs did her magic with her mouth. Now it was my turn to scream, holding her head tight to my cunt. When I'd come several times and was too exhausted for more she kissed me hard on the lips and said, "Thank you Pauline. Thank you. I'm sorry to be so much trouble. Thank you for taking care of me." I admit it, I wept, holding her still filthy body and face tight to me as tears flooded down my face. But I couldn't show too much softness, so I put her over my knee and spanked her filthy, shit-covered bottom until she howled, then drove my fist deep into her cunt. Her unexpectedly sudden orgasm nearly pulled my hand off.

There was one more thing to do before I led her out to the yard. Spike's lasting gift to cow was to burn her name into her belly. Every time she finished a cigarette she would stub it out on one of the dots that spelled out "cow", keeping the wounds fresh and the scars bright red. I've kept up this touching tradition, although these days I hardly smoke any more so I have to use a little gadget that Irma made for me. Since it was four days since she'd been branded like this, I had to do four dots, sitting on her chest to pin her down as she screamed in pain. I kissed each burn after I made it, licking the blood away, before moving to the next one.

Finally I led her out to the yard. I tethered her by just one ankle, on a long chain, free to roam around, free to lay down, or to sit, or to walk around. She could get to the food and drinking bowl I'd left for her. I've gave her one last hug and kiss and, with the greatest reluctance, left her to recover from her ordeal.

Even though I keep her locked away a lot of the time, cow's presence still takes a lot of my attention, thinking about her locked away and suffering. Luckily there are several places I can send her away for a few weeks. The best is a kind of lesbian commune that Martha, an old friend of mine, runs somewhere in the depths of deepest Wales. Nobody there lives very comfortably - subsistence farming is seriously hard work - and they are very glad to have some extra help, especially help that eats nothing but scraps and shit, and can be made to work sixteen hours a day or more. I took her down there a couple of months ago for four weeks. During that time she did hard, manual labour from the first glimmer of daylight until after dusk. Then she was put to work indoors, cleaning, preparing food and so on. The few hours every night that she was allowed to sleep were spent naked on the bare earth floor of a drafty shed, with just one stinking blanket to keep her warm.

Some of the women took pity on her and wanted to look after her, but Martha made sure they didn't go too far. Others were very happy to have someone to dominate and torment. cow was beaten every day as she toiled in the gardens, digging the heavy earth in the pouring Welsh rain, chilly and naked, sinking into the cold mud half-way to her knees. There was always something to be done, never a need to invent make-work tasks for her - though often she worked in chains, slowing her down. And sometimes  a couple of the more sadistic women would amuse themselves by making her crawl flat on her belly through the mud, or carry heavy bags of stones or produce.

Before leaving, I'd stitched her cunt tightly shut. She wanted me to stitch her mouth shut too, but that would have made it impossible for her to do toilet duty so I refused. Martha isn't really into that herself, but she understands cow's needs and makes sure that she gets plenty of shit and piss in her belly.

She returned by herself, hitching back from Wales. She'd been sent away with nothing, just an old tee-shirt and a pair of shorts, and a cheap pair of shoes salvaged from the rubbish. She paid her way with the only thing she had. The first driver had been happy with a blow-job, and the second to fuck her anus - stretched as always but without her constant speculum, which she'd been allowed to remove for exactly this reason. But the third wanted the real thing - when sh explaine she'd been sewn up by her boyfriend, he slapped her for being cheeky then cut through her stitches with his knife. He didn't seem bothered by the blood that oozed from the holes in her labia, nor my the smell of old piss that had been trapped behind her sealed pussy for weeks.

From time to time we go out together and do normal things, go to music or out for a normal meal at a good restaurant. Improbably, cow loves the opera - it doesn't do much for me, but I'm happy to take her along and see her obvious pleasure. The transformation when she goes out is extraordinary, more Cinderella than even Cinderella. She spends an hour or more in the shower - she has to, to get rid of the stink of shit from her skin. She washes her hair over and over again, to get rid of not only the smell but also all the tiny bits of food and seeds and so on. I know what I'm talking about when I say that's a really tough job. I keep my hair short for just that reason, but cow, despite everything, has long hair, partly covering the bald patch resulting from one of her youthful experiments in self-damage. When she finally smells fresh and clean she dresses in one of her gorgeous, sexy outfits that we've bought together. cow's step-mother had a real talent for fashion and style, which she was careful to pass on. When we step out together, she might be wearing a backless black dress, frilly and flouncy, that really makes the most of her skinny body, fine black stockings, to-die-for strappy stillettos. I have to say that I'm not so shabby either - with cow's help, I have to admit, I've lately bought myself some dresses that make the most of my own rather fuller figure, especially my big tits. Or maybe she's wearing bright red leather pants with a matching jacket, and a tight red rubber top underneath, and red high-heel boots. She looks just as gorgeous, if more inaccessible. Sometimes she has no choice, because her back, her legs and her whole body are just one enormous multi-coloured bruise from the beatings she gets. She can never show her belly with her name burned into it - people would be horrified.

Together we chat, we laugh, we pass each other scraps of food to try, we kiss and snuggle, just like any other couple. We could just be the simplest of lovers, having a good time - and in a way we are, just a rather unusual way. cow's belly is full of the most revolting foulness as we sit looking at each other over a fine meal, quite likely mine is too. Her body is covered in bruises and fresh wounds. Her muscles are stiff from her bondage and from the cold and damp of her usual existence. Her fantasies of dying the most awful death are never far away. And she is beautiful in her waif-like way, so beautiful she makes me want to weep.

life-with-cow