Life as a Bitch

Ellie's arms went into the sleeves as quickly as had her legs and the next moment she found herself turned onto her belly. She could see nothing, but from the pressure creeping up her back she was able to surmise that the suit was being closed up from the base of her spine to the back of her skull. Almost the very same second the high collar was pulled together, the cold that had been chilling her to the bone was replaced with a rapidly growing heat. It built from almost nothing to an intense burning in no more than a few minutes and she could not begin to guess what the cause was as she suffered in silence throughout.

"This may not be your real skin," the Master was away from the table again, his back turned as he prepared what she thought would doubtless be some new form of torture. "But it's more honest than the one you've been wearing for a while now. I think that if you look like a dog, live like a dog and are treated like one then maybe you'll be cured of this delusion that you're anything more than a dog. Not that you really have a choice in the matter, the adhesive inside that suit is just about cured by now and it's not coming off without the skin underneath unless you have a degree in chemistry to cook up the solvent to melt it."

Ellie was no expert on the subject, but she knew without any further explanation what he was talking about. More and more she wanted to scream out as yet another element was added to the list of indignities that she was being forced to endure. She was being effectively mutilated by a seeming madman and now he had sealed her inside a rubber suit, intent upon making her believe his own delusion that she was not a human being but a dog in need of being reminded of the fact.

She heard the Master return to the table and then felt his hands seize her once more to turn her onto her back. She was able to see the items he had brought with him as her head flopped to one side and the sight of them made her heart sink even further. There were six in total, each one looking like a bodily feature that was present in a canine and yet absent in a human being, a fact that it seemed was about to be remedied in her own case.

He went first to the bottom of the table, where he slipped a pair of what could have been mistaken for boots over her bare feet. But once they were in place and Ellie again felt the building heat of the adhesive that had fused the suit to her body, it was clear that they were intended to resemble the hind paws of a dog. Long and rigid, they would force her to walk almost on tiptoe and so mimic the gait of a canine when she moved.

Next were her hands, lost beneath a pair of gloves that bore no fingers. Ellie was left with her digits curled in the centre of them, unable to spread them in any way. Worse she realised the implication as the same heat spread inside of them, understanding that she would also be denied the use of her hands as anything other than blunt implements upon which she might walk or make a pathetic pawing through the thick, rigid rubber.

There was a thankful moment of respite as she was turned onto her side and what seemed to be a long tail was clipped to the base of her spine. She had only caught a glimpse of the thing, but it had been of a shade so close to that of her own hair that she was almost convinced that it had been made from the locks on her scalp while she was deprived of her senses.

But if the boots and gloves that had transformed her extremities into paws scared her, the headpiece that the Master now lifted from the table was simply terrifying. It seemed to be a reproduction in rubber, almost down to the last detail of a dog's head. She could not have named the breed although the long brown muzzle put her in mind of a hound she had seen in more than one film when she was a child. The name escaped her, but the thought that she was about to become a rubberised rendering of the animal was almost too much to bear.

She would have little time to contemplate the issues though, as he brought the thing down over her head and temporarily blotted out the light. Ellie could do nothing as he worked the headpiece down to her shoulders, the light returning only when her own eyes were perfectly level with the holes within the mask itself.

Ellie stared down the length of the muzzle, for the first time seeing it from within. There was something pressing on the inside of her mouth and she almost gagged when the Master grabbed the two halves of the muzzle and worked the jaws of the mask. She felt something inside the rubber work her own jaw in response and could only conclude that the whole thing was designed to move in concert with her lower face.

There was no more than a few seconds in which to contemplate the implications of the mask however as she was suddenly aware of a painful sensation on the top of her head. Soon it was followed by another and then yet more as they began to settle into a discernible pattern across her scalp. The truth of what was happening only became apparent to her when a lock of her bright red hair fell over her eyes and she realised that it was being drawn through holes in the top of the mask. Soon her vision was framed by the familiar sight of red hair and she was left wondering why, when he had wanted to convince her that she was a dog, the Master was going to such pains to ensure that elements of her humanity showed through the costume in which he was trapping her. In that moment she had no way to guess what the reason might have been, but she was sure there must be more it than the crazed whim of random insanity.

When it appeared that he was finally done with her hair, Ellie felt the Master's hands reach around her neck and fasten something in place. It had the feel of a choker or necklace of some kind, but based on what had been done to her already, she almost certain that she knew what it in fact was.

Drugged and abducted in front of dozens of her fellow commuters, sealed from head to toe in rubber, transformed from a woman into a bizarre blending of woman and animal, Ellie felt herself being lifted from the table and into the Master's arms.

She had no way to know what lay in store for her or where she was being taken, but as he carried her from the room there was a fleeting chance for her to catch sight of her reflection in a mirror that leant against the wall.

Familiar eyes stared out at her from the face of a rubber dog, made all the more confusing and unsettling by the all too human locks that spilled from its head and down to its shoulders.

Around the dog's neck was a leather collar from which hung a name tag.

And engraved on the tag was the name: 'Ellie'.

If being mute witness to the process of becoming a rubber dog had been torture, the actual reality of being forced to live as such was a more akin to being condemned to hell. Ellie felt the effects of the drugs ebbing away to nothing only after the Master had deposited her inside a large metal cage that she soon realised was a crate intended to keep a dog from roaming around and allow them out only when a human willed it.

Though the ability to move had returned to her body, she was not returning to the body that she had known. Ellie found that the rubber suit in which she was trapped brought with it a unique set of issues and problems, though she was sure that each one was deliberate and intended to amuse her captor.

While she could see relatively well out of the eye holes in her mask, her other senses were dulled by the layers of latex between them and the outside world. The ears that now sat on top of her head were no more than rigid rubber shapes, her own hearing reduced to a vague impression of the sounds around her in a way that seemed to distance her yet further from reality. There was also little scope for her sense of smell, which struck her as odd after being forced to masquerade as a creature normally so prized for the acute nature of its olfactory prowess.

As for the sense of touch, that was a strange mixture of numbness and hyper sensitivity that was quickly driving her to distraction. Where the rubber was heavy and thick, such as her hands and feet, there was very little in the form of sensation save for the knowledge that she was either in contact with something solid or not. But in contrast, there were regions that felt as though they were almost on fire for a large part of the time. Her breasts and genitals were the worst and she was sure beyond any shadow of a doubt that this was a deliberate thing, inflicted upon her for the amusement of the Master.

Ellie had been forced to spend long periods of the time in which she was awake trying to find a way to relieve the constant itching and throbbing she felt in the most sensitive parts of her body. She rubbed her chest against the cold metal of the crate, hoping that the burning in her nipples could be eased by the chill. Her abdomen she tried to press to the concrete floor on which the crate stood so that if the sensation was not relieved by the freezing surface, it might simply numb the flesh altogether.

She wondered if this was what it felt like to be a dog in the grip of heat, caged with no hope of relief and constantly burning with unfulfilled physical desire to be released from the suffering.

While she had lamented at first the loss of her ability to speak behind the muzzle of the mask, Ellie now found that in a bizarre way she was somewhat thankful for it. Forced to endure the endless need for relief and tortured from one moment to the next, she found it impossible to remain quiet and instead voiced her feelings in moans and cries that were mangled by the effects of her rubber visage. Somehow it was easier for her to deal with the animalistic sounds that she made than even to think of what she might have been compelled to say otherwise, the desperate words the extreme situation in which she found herself might have wrung from her.

But that was not the only small mercy that she found in the anonymity of the mask.

The Master was present for perhaps an hour at a time, although she had no way to keep track of the time. He took a keen interest in her discomfort, snapping one photograph after another of her as she tried to relieve her suffering. There was no way that she could even try to remain still or deny him the material he wanted for his camera, the effects of the suit being too intense. Instead she tried to close her eyes and as much as possible forget his presence. As the Polaroid he used spat out ever more images of her degradation, Ellie was thankful that her human features were hidden beneath the layers of rubber.

Perhaps if she retreated far enough into herself, curled the vulnerable elements of her psyche into a tight enough ball, she could escape the irreparable damage that was already being done to her mind.

With every snap of the flash, every moment that she rubbed her crotch against the floor like an animal, she retreated a little more into the darker corners of herself.

And once the human being had withdrawn, what was left behind became ever more simple in nature and focussed on the satisfaction of the physical needs that plagued her.

Ellie was awoken from her troubled sleep by the sound of the lock on her crate opening. She gazed around and saw the Master beckoning to her from where he stood beside the open door, gesturing that she was to do as she was told and come to his side.

There was nowhere to hide and no evident way to escape the bare concrete room in which she was being kept. In addition she was tired and emotionally fraught after enduring hours of discomfort from her breasts and groin that sleeping had only postponed her having to face.

In an ideal world she realised that she would have been fighting back against what was being done to her, trying to escape or call for help. At the very least she would have refused to cooperate with the Master, remained in the crate and defied him.

But something was not right inside of her, she was becoming ever more aware of the fact as time passed. She could not have said if it was a reaction to her treatment, the constant need to relieve her physical symptoms, the experience of being trapped inside a canine mask or a combination of all three.

Regardless of the source, she knew it was creeping over her slowly and stealing her resolve. It made her almost cower at the sight of the Master, fearing what he was capable of doing to her should she make him angry so much that she was unable to muster any will to disobey. Instead she meekly crawled out of the crate on all fours, stopping when she was crouched in front of him and looking up at his black-clad face with a mixture of trepidation and resigned defeat in her eyes.

"Up," his voice was firm and yet not cruel in tone, just the way one would expect a person to address a dog that they wanted to obey through authority rather than force. "Sit up, girl."

Ellie placed her front paws on the floor and pushed herself up until she was kneeling before him, keeping her eyes fixed on his as she did so. He was directing her with his left hand while he kept his right behind his back, but she had no time or inclination to think why. For now he was being, if not kind, at least less than cruel and she was glad of the chance to be anything but afraid for once.

"Good girl," he bent forwards and stroked her under the chin.

The simple contact sent a spark of elation through Ellie's body without a warning, but by the time the feeling had reached the pit of her stomach it had turned into a sense of horrified shame.

What was wrong with her?

Was she so fragile and easily manipulated that one casual word of praise from this monster intent upon degrading her was enough to set her singing in elation?

In that moment, Ellie hated herself more than she could have put into words. The parts of her human self that had been hidden away for their own sake came quickly back from the edges of consciousness to add to the disgust she felt for her own reactions. Was this what it truly felt like to be a dog? Living from one moment to the next in constant fear of what a man would do to punish disobedience contrasted with the slavish devotion and manic adoration when he instead showed favour? She was sure that no sane human being could have remained so if forced into that existence of maddening extremes of emotion. Only the simple mind of an animal could have been battered in such a way and continued to function.

Is that what I have to become, she thought as the implications of that revelation sank in, if I can't escape this man and his delusions?

Ellie was torn away from her thoughts by the sound of an electric hum filling the air. She watched as the Master produced from behind his back a phallus that was the source of the noise as it buzzed crazily in his hand.

"Now," he said as her eyes followed the vibrator, "we're going to teach you how to beg."

Her attention focussed on the toy as it came closer and all thought of anything else banished from her mind, Ellie found herself seized by an urge that was similar to the uncontrolled sensation of gratitude she had felt when he tickled her under the chin. The difference was that this feeling was many times more intense, maddening and centred on the parts of her body that had been driving her to distraction since she was sealed into the suit. Thus far she had tried to relieve her suffering by numbing the afflicted areas in the hope of extinguishing all feeling, but now she saw that there was another possibility which lay in quite the opposite approach.

The Master knelt so that he could bring the vibrator within inches of her heavy breasts and she was able to do nothing but bear her chest and lessen that distance. Her nipples were hard and erect, straining against the rubber before the tip made contact and when they did she felt herself almost shake in response. He went from one breast to the other with the vibrator while his free hand massaged the side not being pressed against the thing at that moment and for the first time there was a blessed relief of the burning she had felt for so long.

"Up," he made her heed his words by withdrawing the vibrator, "now show me how you beg."

Being deprived of the toy was not something that Ellie could deal with at that moment, and before she could think what she was doing, she hung her arms in front of her in imitation of the dogs she had seen made to beg for a morsel by their owners. She raised herself on her knees, trying to look as though she was doing her best to obey, eyes wide and almost desperate with the effort.

"That's the way," he reached down between her legs and she felt his fingers stroke the lips of her vagina for a moment, then there was a surge of penetration as he slid the vibrator into her and held it there. She stiffened at the entry of the foreign object into her body, the muscles shocked and stimulated by the action. But there were only moments before the effects of the toy began to spread through the sensitive layers of her most intimate parts.

She remained in the begging position as he began to move the vibrator, the terrible burning in her replaced by an equally terrible and shaming pleasure. Ellie gasped and shook as he built her sexual energies up steadily, making sure that each minute the thing stayed inside her was more intense for her than the last. Small thoughts ran through her head, reminding her of the way in which she was being used and the awful source of the gratification she was feeling, but there was no hope of her stopping what was being done to her. She was too far gone and too deeply enthralled to be capable of doing anything other than submitting and riding the waves of pleasure that spread through her.

When she came, the sound that emerged from her muzzle was mangled by the rubber, sounding more like the cry of an animal than a woman.

As the warmth of her orgasm faded, Ellie felt the Master's hand grip her collar and begin to guide her back into the crate.

"In you go," he wasted no time in locking the door once it was closed. "That's enough fun for one day."

And with that he was gone, leaving Ellie alone with the memory of being used like an animal and the growing sensation that would return as the effects of her sexual exploits grew ever more distant.

Though she knew that time was passing by the needs of her body that she could not control, Ellie had no way of keeping a sense of the days that she had been kept like a dog. Her routine was mind numbing in its simplicity when it was not a humiliating round of experiences that were the norm for a canine. The combination of boredom and despair when she was idle and crushing shame when she ate clumsily from a bowl or was forced to make use of the newspaper in the corner of the room was such that she feared for the state of her sanity.

While she was able to have such worries, she at least knew that she was not yet in the true grip of madness. She was sure that had she been pushed over the edge, there would have been no doubt in her mind that she was sane. Was that not the cliché in every film? A prison full of men who claimed to be innocent, or an asylum where the truly crazy inmates where indignant at being labelled as insane?

The Master spent time with her almost every day by her shaky reckoning, normally waking her with the sound of the door opening or tapping on the bars while she slept. She was loathe to admit it, but his presence was a distraction from the terrible feeling of loneliness she experienced when left alone. There was a growing part of her that had begun to see his visits as a reprieve from the long periods of enforced solitude where she was trapped with only her own thoughts for company. It seemed that with every new visit, she forgot a little more that this was the man responsible for her captivity and came to see him instead as the only company for which she could hope.