Mary and Elizabeth

CHAPTER TEN

They found her within thirty yards of the main track to the road not a quarter of a mile from the house. Unknown to her, she had travelled in a circle.

Mary was next aware of becoming conscious back in her pen. Eva was kneeling by her side, dribbling water from a bottle into her mouth. When she saw Mary's eyes open, the slave sighed with relief. Belle hurried in with a plastic dish and began to feed her carefully with tiny scraps of some sweetish, jelly-like substance.

They left her when they were sure she'd gone some way towards recovery, and she fell into a deep and refreshing sleep.

She slept for many hours; it was dawn when she woke, and she got to her feet and padded over to her trough. It had been filled with food and water, and she spent a long time with her head lowered into it, eating ravenously. She still felt very weak, and she lay down and slept some more, a cycle which repeated it self for the next few days until she was fully recovered.

Then Samantha came again. Once more she was led out and washed, once more she was drugged and examined on her old kitchen table.

Back in her pen, she recalled the fragments of conversation she'd heard from Samantha and Elizabeth.

''.... no real harm.... dehydration but....recovery....she'll be OK...about six or seven weeks now.....bound to notice....later stages....plenty food...no mating until....''

Elizabeth came to see her the next day. Flanked by her two slaves, she stared down at Mary for some time before speaking.

''I blame myself, of course,'' she said. ''I should never have let it wander off and get lost like that. In future it must be tethered or leashed at all times, even when it's in its pen. Fetch a long chain,'' she ordered Eva.

The slave hurried off without a word to return quickly, a chain looped in her hand. Seconds later Mary was tethered to a rail of her pen by a six foot chain.

''It shall be exercised – always on a leash, remember! - twice daily for the next four weeks. If it seems weak or in distress it must be taken back and penned immediately. Do you both understand?''

''Yes Mistress!'' came the two separate and respectful replies.

When she was alone, Mary pondered the episode with mixed feelings. While she was immensely relieved not to be punished for her escape, she could not help feeling a little annoyed that thay hadn't even seen it as that. Her attempts to make them see her as a docile animal had, perhaps, been too successful, she thought; they seemed to think that she'd wandered off by accident. Now Elizabeth was going to have her kept on a leash all the time for her own good!

She walked to the end of her chain to test its security with the result she expected, before turning to her usual pastime - lying on the straw and staring out into the barn, or watching the flies buzzing around her trough.

The new tether chain restricted her movement in the pen, and she was glad of the twice daily walks, boring though they turned out to be. Every day, in the early morning and evening, she was led from her pen by one of the slaves on a leash so short that she was unable to lie down. Her movements closely controlled, she was led through the yard and into the paddock to be walked back and forth for half an hour. Then she was chained up in her pen and fed.

This went on for some weeks, then she went through three successive days on which she was violently sick on awakening. She put it down to the the tainted food that she was fed on, and thought no more about it. And then she noticed her increasing appetite. The slaves kept her food trough filled, and she could eat as she wanted whenever she wanted to. She noticed too how tired the walks were making her, and then how difficult it was becoming to walk. Samantha visited her, and gave Belle a large cardboard box from which the slaves sprinkled a white powder into her water trough twice daily.

It must have been some sort of tranquillizer, for when - at last – it occurred to Mary that she was pregnant only a tiny voice deep in her brain protested its outrage from within her indifference.

She was no longer walked, spending most of her time resting, and only rising to eat and drink, and to empty her bowels and bladder. Her belly was huge, and her swollen and painful breasts were begining to leak. Samantha came, and hovered anxiously over her for a long time.

And then, lying in the dirty straw of her pen, Mary gave birth. She felt little or no pain in her somnolent, drugged state, and two hours after she'd gone into labour she opened her eys to see two tiny, mewling, blind puppies lying in the straw before her eyes. She was vaguely aware of the presence of people standing at the rails of her pen, and for a moment she muzzily wondered what to do. Then, out of some primitive impulse, she began to lick the slimy little bodies, relishing their faint saltiness, to soft sighs of relief from her audience. She was lying on her left side, and one of the pups crawled, mewling frantically, the few inches to her lower breast. There it quested wiith its blind head until its wet, warm little mouth clamped onto her nipple. Gently, Mary lifted its fellow in the crook of her arm and put its mouth to her upper breast. Later when each had drunk its fill and both little bellies were distended, Mary curled her body carefully around them. She heard the soft footsteps of the watchers leaving as she fell asleep.

Apart from eliminating her wastes, and making frequent visits to the trough to slake her vastly increased thirst, Mary didn't leave the puppies for an instant. Her newly-discovered maternal instinct was such that she'd glare at anyone who came into the pen and curl herself protectively around the little squirming bodies until they left. They fed ravenously, and they grew with astonishing rapidity. After about a fortnight they were both tall enough to suckle side by side directly from her breasts as she stood over them on all-fours. By now they were clearly Dalmatian puppies, a dog and a bitch, and Mary could see a glance that they were of the highest pedigree. But soon their teeth on her teats became too painful for her, and they were weaned on dog food mixed with the pig meal that Mary was fed on. After another two weeks or so, they were taken away and she never saw them again – except, perhaps, the male, and she may have been mistaken in that. But that was months in the future; for the present she continued to lactate, and every morning or and evening one of the slaves would vacuum-milk her, the milk being poured into her trough for her to drink later.

After her puppies were taken from her, she sobbed for a long time. She missed them dreadfully, but after a few days they began to take her out for walks again, and gradually she forgot the tiny bodies nestling so trustfully against hers.

As the hormones of motherhood left her, she began to realise exactly what her role had been in the whole affair. For once she'd had been on full alert when Elizabeth and Samantha had discussed the event while at the rails of her pen, and she had heard every word of their conversation – although it hadn't fully registered until later.

They had both been in relaxed mode, as if some difficult project had been successfully completed, and Samantha was scratching Mary behind the ears the whole time.

''That went well!'' she heard Samantha say.

''Two thousand dollars, I think you said?'' enquired Elizabeth delicately.

''Out of the ten thousand you'll get for two pedigree Dalmatian puppies!'' exclaimed Samantha. ''And it's not as if she costs you anything to keep!''

''I still think the procedure's over-complicated,'' Elizabeth complained. ''Taking the eggs from the donor bitch, fertilising them from the male's contribution, then implanting them into this bitch's womb. Can't you just implant the eggs, and have the dog impregnate them normally?''

''Of course I can!' snorted Samantha. 'But it'll be a bit hit or miss whether the dog will fertilise them at the first attempt! And I'll need dozens of eggs! Though it would be a lot simpler; cheaper too – and it could be done,'' she added thoughtfully.

''Well!' said Elizabeth. 'Try that next time! How many litters can it give birth to in a year, anyway?''

Samantha paused for a moment in calculation.

''Technically; three,' she said at last. 'A litter every four months. But we'd be much better off having a litter from her every six months; she'll last much longer.''

''Is it possible to get it to carry more than two pups?'' asked Elizabeth eagerly.

''Restrain your greed, Lizzie!' laughed the taller woman. 'She's only got two udders! She can only feed two pups!''

''Oh!' sighed Elizabeth in disappointment. 'And how long will it be able to go on breeding?''

Samantha paused again before replying.

''About twenty years for a bitch of her species,'' she said slowly. ''Before her 'equipment' is worn out. Yes; I know her womb and uterus make giving birth to such tiny ceatures with their streamlined heads a doddle, but she will wear out eventually.Still, that's four perfect pedigree pups a year, at an average price of seven and a half thousand dollars each,,,,that's...er..''

''Six hundred thousand dollars!'' broke in Elizabeth, the greed in her voice evident. ''For the price of a few sacks of pig meal! What a good idea of yours that was, dear!''

''Well, said Samantha, a trifle defensively. 'I was so tired of trying to produce pedigree puppies from bitchs so inbred over the generations that they couldn't give birth. Whole pedigree breeds can vanish! But we'll try your idea next time. Now she'll need building up and plenty of exercise. And try not to let her wander off again! Maybe I should blind her for you? That would stop her.''

''If it becomes necessary,'' said Elizabeth indifferently. ''Now let's go and have tea.''

Mary lay motionless in the straw, the full horror of her situation slowly sinking into to her appalled mind. Not content with stealing her money, her business, and her house from her, Elizabeth had finally stolen her body, too.

A picture of her future life appeared before her in all its hopeless, endless, helplessness and misery. She'd be a brood bitch, a surrogate mother for endless litters of expensive pedigree puppies for the financial benefit of Elizabeth and her friend for as long as her body could carry them. And then? Well, when she was of no further use to them they could have her put down. Or they may just put her away, to spend the rest of her life chained and forgotten in some kennel, never to be free again.