BDSM Library - Fido's Californian Vacation

Fido's Californian Vacation

Provided By: BDSM Library
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Synopsis: This story - like 'The Interview' - was written on the orders of my then O/L Mistress in California and contains examples of her obsession with using men as stepping-stones and footstools, and of having them lick clean her shoes. It quickly 'degenerated' into Animal Role Play, of course! It purports to describe the events of an infatuated and exceptionally submissive young man's holiday with his Mistress on her Californian estate, and his growing realization that his position in her household is that of the animal of her choice. (It has pointed out that I attempt to give no explanation for my 'victim's' submissiveness; but my defence is that he had no inkling of it himself until his Mistress twitched an invisible leash from across a continant and an ocean).

'Fido's Californian Vacation: Part One'

SUNDAY

I left the airport at noon local time, but on my body-clock it was 8 pm, and I was tired, hungry, and thirsty. My Lady, of course, would not deign to meet me on the main concourse; instead She had sent me a map of the Airport carpark, indicating that She would park in a discreet spot in a deserted portion reserved for long-stay parking. Unused to the enormous scale of American carparks, and in the direct glare of a noon Californian sun, I was soon hot and sweating in the inappropriately thick clothing suitable for an English Spring. Fortunately I carried only an airline bag with a few necessities; not even a change of clothing. "Slaves and animals don't wear clothes!" my Lady had coldly informed me. After a long, hot trudge over the baking asphalt I recognised my Lady's SUV - an enormous vehicle to my English eyes - standing on the very edge of the carpark, its back up to the scrubby boundary hedge. It had deeply tinted windows for the rear passenger seats; the tailgate window likewise - it was impossible to see into the interior. The engine was running to power the air-conditioning, and when I came up to the driver's window, my Lady lowered it, giving me a waft of refreshing cold air from inside.

She began as She was to continue. "Fido! Take off your clothes!" She instructed me, curtly. "Put them in this trash bag!" I had been half looking forward to, half dreading this moment, though I'd expected She would wait until She had taken me to Her house, but I found undressing before her the most natural thing in the world: it was obvious that She had no more interest in my body than She would in the body of an animal. Very soon I stood naked by her window, shifting from foot to foot on the hot surface. "Give me your paws!" She commanded, and I raised my hands and watched as She deftly slipped padded mitts on them, securing them at the wrist with thin, black plastic cable-straps. "Kneel!" and as I obeyed She exited lithely from Her seat, in her hand a short leash with a old leather dog collar dangling from it. She buckled the collar around my neck, turned away, and tugged sharply on my leash. "Heel!"; and the collar dug painfully ito my throat as She led me to the back of the SUV. My knees scorched by the hot, gritty surface, I followed Her meekly around the vehicle to the rear. There She pressed a catch, and the gigantic tailgate rose smoothly open. It was quite light inside, the tinted glass let the light in but not out, and I could see a closely-barred cage, fitting across the interior. She unbolted and swung open the cage door. "In, Fido!" She ordered, unclipping my leash as She spoke, and I scrambled up and into the cage, encouraged by a painful slash from the leather leash across my buttocks as I did so. She bolted the cage door on me, closed the tailgate, and got back into the driver's seat. Then She drove off.

The cage - about 42 inches long, and 30 inches high and wide - was hard up against the rear passenger seats; a thick, absorbent paper pad covered the steel floor. I was blessedly cool until my Lady, doubtless to reserve the cold air for the front of the car where she sat, raised a tinted glass partition between us. Then the temperature in the rear began to mount. It was difficult to see anything over the height of the sills and the tops of the passenger seats without pressing my back hard up against the bars of the cage and, in the end, I lay down on the soft paper pad. Lulled by our smooth and steady progress, I dozed off.

I was woken by the stopping of the vehicle, and by the sound of my Lady slamming Her door as She alighted. Seconds later I heard Her crisp footsteps retreating, getting softer and softer until I could hear them no more. Drowsily I wondered where we were; I could hear the muffled sounds of car engines starting and stopping, and of footsteps in the distance. Finally I got to all-fours, pressed my back against the bars at the top of my cramped cage, and peered over the window sill into the world outside. Row after row of parked cars, with here and there the forms of people coming and going to and from them, most of the those returning pushing laden shopping trolleys full of printed plastic bags. Then I knew where I was; this was obviously the carpark of one of those mammouth American Supermarkets I'd seen on films and television, and I'd been left in the car while my Lady went shopping, without explanation or apology, exactly as a dog would be.

It was hot and sticky in the back of the car; probably only the tiny fan whirring in the roof prevented me from heat exhaustion, before my Lady's return. Throwing Her shopping onto the front passenger seat, She started the engine and drove off. It was too hot for me to sleep, too uncomfortable for me to look out of the windows, so I lay miserably on the sticky paper pad, uneasily aware of my growing need to empty my bladder.

The drive went on and on, over straight smooth roads, until I became aware that we were climbing. The air grew somewhat cooler as we drove along what seemed an endless tree-shaded road. Finally we slowed, turned, and made our way slowly up a gravelled drive. The car stopped while my Lady aimed a remote control of some kind out of the window. Then She drove forward into an enormous garage and stopped; bright interior lights came on as the garage door folded down behind us.

I saw Her get out of Her seat, and watched as She came round the car to the rear. The tailgate raised, She unbolted the cage door. "Out, Fido!" and I scrambled to the ground to stand before Her. Her response was to slash me savagely across the chest with the short whip She carried. "All-fours! That is your default position; you will not stand on your hind legs unless ordered to!" I obeyed, frightened by Her intensity; She clipped the leash to my collar, and led me around the car to where another, somewhat larger cage stood against the wall, its sliding door raised. A chain about four feet long, attached to a staple welded to a door-jamb, snaked its way acrss the floor.

She stopped, and bent down a little, extending the palm of Her hand under my nose.

"Here, Fido!"

With a sudden flash of inspiration I understood what She wanted of me. Lowering my head to the floor, I picked up the end of the chain in my lips, raised my head and dropped the chain into Her waiting hand.

She clipped it to my collar, and took off the leash which She hung from a hook in the wall.

"Good boy!" She said approvingly, and my heart swelled at the first sign of affection She'd shown me.

Then She opened an adjacent door which led into the outside world. There was a step upwards to go through the door; a high step about two feet from the ground; a nearby wooden platform was obviously designed to be used as a step up to the threshold, but it had been moved aside.

"Lie down!....In front of the step!...On your belly!"

Wondering, I did as She ordered, wincing at the gritty concrete on the skin of my chest and stomach. To my astonishment She then placed Her foot on my back; I could feel the sand on Her shoe sole. Then She momentarily placed Her full weight on Her foot, and I groaned at the sudden pressure on my chest. I was aware of Her raising Her other foot over my prone body and placing it on the doorstep above me. She lifted Her foot from my back and, standing in the doorway, turned back to where I lay gasping.

"You will take that position whenever you're told to!....Now, get in your cage!"

Stiff, I scrambled to all-fours and into the cage. She pointed a remote controller at it, and the cage door slid smoothly downwards, trapping me inside. Then She closed the garage door on me, and left me alone.

The overhead lights went off, leaving only the wan light which struggled through a cob-webbed skylight high above me. My new cage was about four feet square and high; it seemed impossibly spacious compared with the cage I'd been brought here in. The floor was covered with another of those soft, thick, absorbent paper pads, and a small metal trough was welded into one corner of the cage. I scraped the oily grit from my chest and belly as best I could with my clumsy paws and lay down with a groan on the pad. But my bladder was screaming for release, and I knew I'd have to empty it. I dared not urinate on the floor of the garage, and in the end, I made water on a corner of the pad I lay on. Then, in spite of my novel surroundings, my jetlag caught up with me and I fell into an uneasy sleep.

I was fully woken by the noise of another door opening, the lights came on, and my Lady entered carrying a bucket. She splashed some of the contents into the metal trough, placed the bucket out of my reach, and left the way She had come. Painfully I rose, still stiff from my slumber, to examine the trough. There was water in it, and, dusty as it was, with bits of chaff floating on its surface, I was so thirsty that I lapped and sucked at it noisily until it was all gone.

I stretched my cramped limbs to ease them. My present position began to come fully home to me. I'd no idea where I was, I was naked, and I was confined to a few square feet in a cage, collared and chained like a dog. And like a caged beast, I was totally reliant on my Mistress or some other human being for food and water. My mitts made me helpless; without the use of my fingers my hands were as useless as the clumsy paws of an animal.

My short sleep made me restless; I longed to move around, to be active, and I tried to pace up and down to the limits of my cage. But my prison was much too small to allow that.

The afternoon was far advanced now, as I could tell by the lengthening shadows. Listen as hard as I could, there was no sound apart from the buzz of insects in the warm air. Was my Lady at home? Had She gone out and left me? I felt lonely and miserable; I was very hungry, and beginning to become thirsty again.

These thoughts were broken abruptly by my Lady's abrupt reappearance. She spoke no word to me; but picked up the water bucket and re-filled my trough.. I scrambled to it at once, and lapped up the warm, dusty water avidly. She stood by and watched me until I'd finished, then: "Sit!" She raised the cage door, put on my leash and detached the chain. "Heel, Fido!" She commanded; and She led me over to the steep step before the door which led to the open air.

"Lie down!" She commanded; then: "Good boy!" approvingly as I stretched myself on my belly before the step.

Once again I felt Her shoe on my back; again the crushing transfer of Her weight as She mounted the step. Standing in the doorframe, She twitched my leash. "Up, Fido!" and I scrambled up the step to join her in the afternon sunlight. I found myself in a large garden, with pruned bushes, flower beds, and manicured turf kept green by sprinklers. We crossed the wide gravelled drive which continued past the garage to end in a large turning loop in before the front door of the house. There, on the broad concrete threshold, about three feet away from the wall, stood a small wooden box. My Lady commanded me to "Sit!" and, after securing my leash to a staple in the wall, She removed the four sides and top of the box to reveal a cage inside it, a small cage, no longer then three feet, and less than two feet, high and wide. She swung open the rear door of the cage, and brought me to it. "In, Fido!" I obeyed with some awkwardness, as the cage was much too low for me to walk in normally; in the end I found it easiest to enter on my elbows and knees, and even then my uptilted rump scraped on the bars of the roof. Reaching the bars at the end, I heard the rear door slam shut, and heard my Lady's quick movements as She bent down and clasped a thick leather cuff around each of my ankles, then secured them firmly to the bars. She came to the front and did likewise with my wrists. Then, one at a time, She re-placed the wooden sides and roof, locking them in place with sliding steel bolts on the outside of the structure before leaving me.

I was very cramped in the hot little box; the low roof pressing on my back forced me to sit right back with my buttocks on my upturned heels; my head too was held low, and I was forced to rest on my elbows, with my forearms extended in front of me. I tested the bonds which held my wrist and ankles tight against the bars: they were rigid; the only movement possible was that of my head, which I could raise and lower about six inches, and move for and aft about a foot, above what seemd to be a short horizontal steel grill which protruded, from the wooden front piece, between the bars in front of me.

My Lady's footsteps approached again. I heard Her sit on one of the two rocking chairs which flanked a small table on the opposite side of the porch; then I heard the slow squeak of the rockers and the occasioal tinkle of ice as She drank from Her glass. Then there came up the drive the harsh, tinny rattle of a small foreign imported car. It stopped, a door slammed, and eager feet came running up the steps.

"Hi, big Sis!" The voice was young and blithe; obviously, from the familiar salutation, that of the young lady, my Lady's sister. "Did you get it? Where is it? Is it, like, in its cage?"

"Good afternoon, little sister!" came my Lady's reply. "Yes; I have it! And it's in its box right here! Now sit down and have some iced tea! You'll have plenty of time to play with it later!"

"Wow! In its box already?"

There was a flurry of movement, and a rubber-soled foot kicked the side of the box.

"Do sit down, child," My Lady told her teasingly. "Have a drink and cool down......and then, as you're my much-loved little sister, it shall clean those shabby old sneakers of yours!"

"Oh, wow!" came the happy reply.

I heard her move away, then the gurgle of a liquid being poured and the tinkle of ice.

But the young lady was too impatient to rest for long; only a short time passed before I sensed her standing at the front of my box.

"What'll I do now, big Sis ?" she called excitedly.

"Place your foot on the grill and slide it forward. A flap will open to let your foot through so it can get to work!"

"What if it, like, won't co-operate, big Sis?"

"Just press that red button on top there; you'll soon find it co-operating!"

I heard a giggle, then the sound of her sneaker being set on the grill beyond the wooden front. It scraped forward as she slid her foot a long, then a wooden flap opened abruptly, and her tattered old sneaker came to rest below my mouth. Light leaked in through the open flap past the bulk of her foot, and I regarded with distaste the dusty threadbare canvas of the upper and the dirty white plastic of the welt Then an agonising pain shot through my back, and I lowered my head to my task.

I licked the dust from the canvas top, then, before my tongue could dry out, I licked industriously at the slick plastic of the welt, pleased to see the dirt come off quite easily. She rotated her foot, allowing me to lick the plastic sole. The dirt and grit in the treads came off easily too, though it dried out my mouth, and before long she withdrew her foot and studied the results.

"Wow! Like; neat big Sis! Now for the other shoe!"

"Give it some water to moisten its mouth first, dear. You'll find a small dish on top of its box," advised my Lady.

A small, shallow dish of water appeared throught the flap. I lapped it eagerly until it was all gone. Then the dish was removed, to be replaced by another dirty sneaker for me to wash with my tongue. Finally the sneaker was withdrawn, to cries of glee from the young lady as she regarded her clean footwear. More water was put through the flap, and I tasted the slimy mixture of dirt and grit in my mouth, finally swallowing it, as I feared my Lady's reaction should I spit it out on the floor in front of me.

Outside the two were talking.

"There!" said my Lady. "That's the cleanest those wretched sneakers have been since you first bought them, little sister!"

"That's really cool, big Sis!" came the young lady's excited voice, and I pictured her sitting in her rocking chair, a long cool drink in her hand, while she admired her clean shoes. "It's very tame, isn't it? Are you having it clean your shoes now?"

"Not these shoes, dear; it would ruin them! My lacquoured business shoes tomorrow before I go to the office, maybe. And now, I think that to celebrate we'll dine out. Your choice....and I'll pay!"

"Oh, wow!" came her sister's delighted reply. "Giovanni's - best pizza on the Coast! And I'll drive!"

My Lady groaned affectionately. "Poor little savage!" she laughed. "When will you ever appreciate the finer things in life? Very well; Giovanni's it shall be. Now I shall bathe and change; and so shall you, my dear - even if it is into yet another of your wretched outfits of jeans and tee-shirt!"

"You're an old stick in the mud, big Sis!" Her sister laughed. "But what about the dog? Are you going to leave it in its box?"

"No; that would be cruel!" my Lady replied. "You may put it back in its cage, if you like. And remember what I told you to do when you go through the door into the garage!....Here's the remote for the cage door!"

"Gee, thanks, big Sis! That will be really cool!"

I heard movements near me, and suddenly the wooden roof was lifted off, dazzling me with the inrush of light. the side and front of the box were quickly removed, the cage door was opened, and I was led out, stiff from my confinement.

I could see little of the young lady; only the lower legs of her faded jeans, and her newly-cleaned sneakers. She tugged my leash, bring me to her side where my head brushed the material of her jeans. Then she led me the few yards to the door into the garage where she stopped me on the threshold. "Down, boy!" she ordered. Then, when I'd scrambled to the foot of the step, "Lie down!" With dunb fatalism, I lay face down again on my belly, and waited for what was to follow. The young lady was not yet filled out into my Lady's full-bodied femininity, and nowhere near as heavy, but as she stepped down onto my back, her full weight transferred to my aching chest. She descended, led me the couple of feet to my cage, exhanged my leash for the chain, and ordered me inside. She thumbed the remote, the door closed on me; then she stroked my hair through the bars. "Good boy! Good Fido!" she crooned. "Who's a clever dog, then?" I felt her fingers scratch the back of my neck, catching now and then in my collar. But she soon tired of her game and left, the garage lights going out behind her.

A little later I heard her small car rattle away down the drive, and knew they had left me. Alone in my cage I tried to get to grips with the events of the day. I was surprised by the ease with which my Lady had imposed Her will upon me, at the resigned obedience I had shown to Her commands. But then, Her will had been dominant over me six thousand miles away; in Her actual physical presence I was helpless to even think of disobeying Her. And, strangely, I was enjoying the experience in an odd way. Being treated as an animal, kept in a cage and only let out on a leash, seemed to give me a queer sense of security: helpless, and unable to do anything unsupervised meant I couldn't do anything to displease Her. And my Lady was my Mistress; She owned me; She had put Her collar around my neck; She would not let any real harm come to Her property. I was very hungry; but She would feed me when She remembered to.

With this comforting thought, I drifted off into a doze; to be woken by the sound of the young lady's ramshackle old car coming to a halt outside. The garage door rose, the small car was driven in, and my lady and her sister alighted from it.

My Lady passed quite close to me, completely ignoring me. The young lady, however, paused for a moment by my cage.

"I'll give it some water, Sis!" she called out.

"Yes; do that," came the indifferent reply, as my Lady went through the door leading into the house.

Liquid splashed into my trough, and the young lady left me in darkness. I lapped the water noisily, then lay down again and tried to get back to sleep.

MONDAY

I woke in pitch darkness to a novel and unwelcome sensation. For the first time since I'd arrived in California I was cold! And it was really cold; I shivered and tried to curl myself into as tight a ball as I could. Of course! Southern California was a desert, and deserts give up their heat readily at night, with temperatures often dipping below freezing depending on the season. My bladder was full again too, and I emptied it into the same spot as before, noting with dismay the growing area of cold dampness which was encroaching on the part of the pad where I had to lie. It was beginning to smell too, and I trembled with fear at my Lady's probable reaction. But then reason prevailed; She would appreciate that as a caged animal, obliged to relieve myself in my cage, it was impossible to avoid being smelly. Which led to another thought. My skin was grimy and sticky; how would She keep me clean? Would she even bother? But all this was entirely in Her hands; there was nothing I could do about it; and I fell again into an uneasy, broken slumber, amid intervals of wakefulness caused by my hunger and the increasing cold.

Never before have I been so happy to see the lightening sky of dawn. The rising sun meant light and warmth. It was still grey, however, when the door to the house opened and my Lady came in to me. She was dressed casually; in smart brown slacks, brown brogues, a brown silk shirt, and a short, warm brown jacket. Without a word She opened the cage door, put on my leash, and led me out. Pausing at the rear of the SUV, She opened the tailgate and commanded me into the cage inside. I scrambled in, She bolted the door and closed the tailgate, then got into the driver's seat. She started the engine and thumbed the remote to raise the garage door. Then She drove out, up the drive and out on to the road beyond.

We didn't seem to go far; only a few minutes later the car was stopped. She opened the tailgate and motioned me out, clipping to my collar a long, leather leash as I emerged. We stood on a length of concrete, beyond which was a deserted beach, with the grey line of the ocean in the distance. Leading me around the car, She climbed back into the driver's seat. The car began to move very slowly forward, onto the hard-packed sand of the beach.

At first I could keep up on all-fours, but as the pace gently increased I found I had to rise and walk upright. The speed increased again, and very soon I was in a fast trot, my leash, which She held in a hand resting nonchalently on the door-sill, tugging continually on my collar. Soon I was panting for breath, but the car drove on. Finally She drew to a halt, and I collapsed on the sand, sobbing with fatigue. My Lady ignored me; She merely took up a Thermos flask, and poured Herself a cup of steaming coffee. Taking out some business papers, She began to read them spread over the steering wheel. After about five minutes She glanced casually at me where I lay on the sand, then re-started the engine. I rose wearily to my feet and followed the car as She turned it, then drove back the way we had come, with me trotting at its side. Only a few minutes later I was back in my cage in the rear, and a few minutes after that we were stopped at the head of the drive. There She led me out to the door opening into the garage. At the top of the steep step downwards, She paused and stabbed Her finger wordlessly towards the floor. I knew what to do; I lowered my self to the garage floor and lay down under the step. I felt again Her transitory weight on my back, squeezing the breath from my lungs. She raised my cage door, attached the chain, took off the leash, and ushered me inside. She splashed a little water into my trough, and left. A little later I heard the sharp clack of the soles of Her leather shoes as She emerged from changing into Her business suit; the sound of the SUV door closing, and of its being driven off. No longer cold, thanks to my recent violent exercise, but terribly hungry, I lay down hopelessly on the smelly paper pad.

How long I lay there, in an exhausted half-trance, I do not know; but after what seemed a long time in the mounting warmth of the garage, the door to the interiorof the house opened, and the young lady came in. She was fresh from her bed, her hair tousled. She wore only a pair of backless slippers to protect her feet, and her sole garment appeared to be an over sized tee-shirt which descended to her knees. She yawned as she raised the cage door and summoned me forth. There she clipped on my long leash, and, after detaching my chain, led me out of the garage and into the house proper.

Through a short passage, and we emerged into one of those enormous American kitchens, all polished tiles and woodwork; cooking appliances of every description gleaming on tops and counters lining the walls. She led me into a far corner, and up to yet another cage; a wire-mesh one this time, about four and a half feet long and three feet high and wide. Raising the door with the remote, She unclipped my leash and ushered me in, encouraging my progress with a light slap with the leash across my haunches. Lowering the door on me, she turned away to rummage in a cupboard under the elaborate sink. She took from it a large plastic dog bowl and a bucket. Placing the dish on the floor, she emptied the contents of the bucket into it, wrinkling her nose at the smell as she did so. She picked up the dish, slid aside a flap in the bottom of the cage door, and slid it through. "There, Fido!" she said. "Good dog!" and she left me to go and sit at the table where she poured cereal from a box into a dish, added milk, and began to eat sleepily.

I stared down at the mess in the faded pink bowl. It looked moist and crumbly, and I could see in it, all mixed together, crusts of bread, vegetable scrapings, fruit peels and cores, bacon rinds, and all the usual leftovers and scraps from preparing and eating meals. It smelled rank and sour. I lowered my head to it doubtfully, but my hunger took command instantly and beyond my power to resist, and I gobbled it down as fast as I possibly could, finishing it all even before the young lady had finished her cereal. Then I lay down, and let out a satisfied belch, causing my Lady's sister to turn to me with a smile.

"Nice, was it, Fido?" she asked.

After taking her used dish to the sink, she left the room. I heard the sound of her feet tripping lightly up some stairs, then the sound of a shower running. A few minutes later she returned, dressed in clean, faded jeans and an old UCLA Tee-shirt. The usual battered sneakers covered her feet. She placed on the table a large, scarred leather briefcase, then came over to my cage. After raising the door she ordered me out and clipped on my leash again.

"Come on, boy!" she said, "and let's see what big Sis got for you at the Petstore!"

Leading me to the table she made me sit while she rummaged through the contents of a gaily-coloured plastic shopping bag.

"Oh!" she cried. "Your own little name-disc!"

She tok it up and read from its surface.

" It says 'Fido' " she informed me. "And on the other side 'This animal is the property of Ms Cardew - and our 'phone number! Aren't you a lucky dog? And look - a cute little bell for your collar! Sit still, now, Fido!"

She bent and tagged the disc and the bell to my collar, where it tinkled softly at the briefest movement of my head. She rose, took up the case, and led me out of the kitchen and through a door which led out onto a shallow flight of stone steps and out onto a closely-clipped lawn. Across the cool grass we went, and onto a wide tree-lined path, paved on either side, with a broad grass strip down the middle. She walked slowly along the slabs, with me by her side on all-fours on the grass, my bell tinkling, feeling again that strange sense of content and security at being led.

The garden seemed enormous; we seemed to walk a long way, and my 'front' legs were begining to tire when we came or the trees to see before us, across another, smaller lawn, a pretty wooden summerhouse, a wide balcony with a polished wooden balustrade along one side. Up broad wooden steps she led me, and onto the floor of the balcony. There she tied my leash to an upright, and entered the body of the structure. She came back with a length of coarse sacking, which she spread on the floor; and a long rope, one end of which she tied around the upright, and the other she clipped to my collar. She took off the leash and laid it on a nearby table, at which she then seated herself. Opening the briefcase, she took from it a laptop computer, a mobile telephone,a large notebook, and a collection of CD Roms.

I lay comfortably on my stomach, my chin propped on my paws, and watched her as she booted up her computer and put in a CD. She frowned at the result, then burst into a flurry of action, typing quickly, surely, and accurately, staring intently at the monitor, and now and then making a short note on her pad.

After a time I drowsed off in the warmth. Waking again, I was aware of an uncomfortably distended feeling in my abdomen. I rose and stretched. The tinkle of my bell attracted her attention and I went over to her, whining in distress.

"What is it, Fido?" she asked, distractedly.

I whined again, trying to get over to her my urgent need. In the end I had to squat down, lowering my haunches in dumb show.

Realisation suddenly showed in her eyes. She rose to her feet and took up my leash.

"Oh, you poor thing!" she exclaimed. "Come on, then!"

She took me on my leash down the steps, and around a corner of the building onto a patch of loose sandy soil.

"There you are, Fido!" she said.

She stood by, holding my leash as I squatted and emptied my bowels; afterwards, as if by some atavistic instinct, I scraped sand over the result back through my legs with my front paws.

Back on the balcony on the long tether, I lay down on the sacking again while she carried on with her work. After a time she rose, went into the interior, and came out again bearing a tall, frosted glass, tinkling with ice. She sat with a sigh of content and took a long, slow pull at her drink.

With a sudden impulse I rose, and slowly walked over to her. I lowered my head, and rubbed it against the coarse cloth of her jeans, causing her to lay her hand on my head and absently run her fingers through my hair. I sat and laid my head on the side of her warm thigh; she lowered her hand to where she could scratch the hairline at the back of my neck.

We sat there together in sleepy mutual content until she stirred.

"You're a good dog, Fido!" she said. "Has big Sis taught you any tricks yet?"

I looked up at her.

"Let's see if you can do any tricks!" she said, and, rising to her feet, she untied my tether and led me out on the lawn, where she re-tied it round the trunk of a small tree in the centre. She left me and went back into the summerhouse, to re-emerge carring a short, flexible riding Crop.

"Fido!..Sit!" she commanded, with a light rap on my shoulder. When I obeyed, haunches on my heels, front paws flat on the ground in front of my knees, she walked around me, examining my stance critically. She poked my flank with the crop.

"Back and front legs straight! Head up!" she ordered. Then: "Good dog!....Fido!......Lie down!" The Crop stung me on the left buttock, and I flopped immediately onto my left side to lie facing her.

"Fido! Sit!.........Fido! Lie down!" Over and over until she was satisfied wiht the speed of my responses and the positions I tok up at her command. Then she introduced "Fido!..Up!" which she taught me meant I should stand on all fours, with my four legs straight and parallel, and my back horizontal. Then: "Fido!....Roll over!" on my back with my legs in the air as best I could get them.

She took me through this routine time and time again, each command being prefaced by my name and accompanied by a blow from the crop.

Finally she returned me to the balcony and tethered me again. She went in and got herself a fresh drink, and a shallow bowl of water for me. Then she carried on with her work while I fell asleep for a time, to be woken by the sound of her mobile telephone ringing. Lazily I turned on my side to listen to the one-sided conversation.

"Hi, Sis;" I heard her say. "Oh! That's good!.... Really?......Yes, I'll see Fido's ready for you!"

She put down the handset, and turned to me.

"Come on, Fido! I want some lunch, and you have work to do!" And with that she rose, clipped on my leash, gathered her things in her case, and led me off back the way we'd come, then around the garage and up to the wide front porch.

As I was led up to the tiny cage, I knew immediately what was to happen. I hung back on my leash and began to whimper, to be rewarded by a sharp blow from the crop across my back and the angry words "Bad dog!" Resignedly, I wriggled into the cramped cage; the wooden sides, ends and top were erected around it, and I was left alone in the hot darkness.

Some little time later I heard the young lady come from the house out onto the porch. I heard the slosh of liquid and tinkling of ice, and knew she was taking a drink at the table there. Only a few minutes later came the sound of my Lady's SUV coming up the drive, and entering the garage. Quick, sharp footsteps, and my Lady arrived to join her sister. She was offered an iced drink, and sat in her comfortable wicker chair with a sigh of satisfaction. Her sister began the conversation.

"You really can spend the rest of the week working from home, Sis?"

"Yes, little sister; I don't have to be at Citibank in New York until Tuesday 10th.....How have you been getting on with Fido?....Has he been a good dog?"

"As good as gold!.....He's been very good....and I've taught him some tricks!"

"You must show them to me later...but first...."

Here I heard Her rise, followed by the click/clack of her leather soles and heels on the concrete as She came over to where I lay crouched in the darkness of my cage. Sure enough, the flap rose, and my Lady's dusty black right shoe reated on the grill below my face. I began to lick it, relishing the slick way my tongue moved on the polished leather, and being extra-careful to avoid geting my saliva on her sheer-stockinged ankles. Then she turned her foot on one side and I licked the smooth leather sole, swallowing the mixture of saliva and grit which accumulated in my mouth as I went. She withdrew her right foot, gave me a little water, then inserted the left. I licked that thoroughly too, and finally She took out Her foot and I heard her walk off and re-seat herself.

"It's getting quite good at this," I heard Her remark.

"He's a clever dog!" Her sister agreed.

"I'll shower and change, then we'll try him out at something else...it will be fun!...Will you take him out of his box, sis?....I don't want him to be cramped."

"OK, big Sis!...in a minute!"

My Lady went into the house, and a few minutes later her younger sister came over to me and removed the wooden box. Then she took me out of the cage and led me into the garage. There, to my surprise, she made me stand up. She tied my leash to a ring set five feet high in the wall, and left me. It felt strange, being on two legs for the first time for more than tweny-four hours, and I wondered why I'd been allowed it.

I was not to wonder long; after about fifteen minutes my Lady entered the garage carrying a large cardboard box. She had changed into a neat cream coloured skirt, with a cream top, and linen jacket; flat-heeled cream leather shoes on Her feet. Her sister followed her, and together they began to take from the box leather straps of various lengths and widths.

"There!" said my Lady. "The thick belt goes round its waist......make sure it's good and tight!"

"And these padded ones go over its shoulders," replied her sister. "And here's a breast strap for it to lean into."

Deft hands buckled the straps about me.

"Well, that's its harness on!" observed my Lady with satisfaction. "Now for its bridle and bit!"

I sensed her sister on one side of me while my Lady took up station on the other. Then, without warning, her sister's hand clamped down hard on my nose, my mouth opened in shock, and my Lady rammed the steel bit into my mouth and tightened its retaining strap at the back of my head. Another strap, carrying large leather blinkers, went around the back of my head. The young lady clipped the ends of long leather reins to the steel rings dangling from either ends of my bit and removed my leash. My Lady led me around the SUV and into a clear area where a small, two-wheeled cart stood, its shafts resting on the floor in front of it.

My Lady shortened Her grip on my reins and backed me between the shafts where her sister lifted first one, then the other, to the belt around my waist, and strapped the shafts tightly to it. My Lady then turned me, and led me off outside, the rubber tyres on the high wheels of the cart noiseless on the concrete. Then, lengthening the reins as She went, She walked around the cart. I could tell from the slight heeling of the shafts when She took her seat behind and above me. My reins shook up and down, I heard a swish, and felt a sharp pain in my left shoulder. I knew what to do; I began to walk forward, finding, to my pleased surprise, that the cart rolled after me quite easily. I could see nothing to the sides, and very little in front as my head was pulled down by the pressure on the shoulder straps, but I found it surprisingly easy to move in a straight line, or to turn, if I followed the gentle pressures on my bit. I was driven onto the grass-centred paved path, and here my Lady flicked my rump, causing me to break into a slow trot. A few yards, and another flick warned me to go faster. We went on for some distance at a steady, medium-fast pace, until the path straightened. There the whip fell on me twice, and I burst into a full run. It was pleasant at first, with the air cooling my skin, but quite soon I began to flag. The whip bit me viciously as I unconsciously slowed; I speeded up and ran on. By now I was panting with exertion, and sweating copiously, but the long path seemed to have no end. Finally my Lady allowed me to come to a gasping stop. Exhausted, I stood slumped in my sweaty harness, my head lowered in fatigue.

My Lady let me stand there for some minutes before She flicked my back with Her whip to make me move on again. At a walk we went on, until we came out on the lawn in front of the very summerhouse where I'd spent the morning. The young lady sat at the table on the balcony, a large jug of some iced drink in front of of her. My Lady got down and led me to where She could tie my reins to the balustrade, keeping me in the shade. Then She took a seat at the table with Her sister, some twenty feet upwind from me, and picked up the cool drink her sister had poured for her.

Somewhat recovered, I found I could hear their desultory conversation quite plainly.

"You go far with it?" enquired the young lady.

"Just down to the Long Drive, down that to the end, and round to here."

"About three miles,then.....You give it a run?"

"Drove it hard down the Drive....had to wait a bit to let it cool down.....You want to take it out?"

"OK. Thanks, big Sis!....After I've finished my drink....it is hot today!..What time is it?"

My Lady glanced casually at Her slim Cartier wristwatch.

"Coming up to three," She said lazily.

"Plenty of time then!.....And your turn to cook dinner, big Sis!"

Her big sister laughed tolerantly and poured more cool drink. Standing in the shafts, I urinated onto the grass between my feet. The young lady spared me a glance.

"Think I'll take it out now, sis.....You think I should give it some water first?"

"When you bring it back....not cold water, mind!..You'll give it stomach cramps."

All this I heard quite without resentment, or even surprise. It seemed quite natural to hear myself talked about in this manner, as if I was a tethered beast. In their eyes, and they were the only ones which counted, that was exactly what I was.

The young lady rose and stretched.

"Think I'll go for a cooling ride!" she said lazily.

She descended the steps to the lawn, untied my reins, pulled my head round and got into her seat. The whip cracked down on my shoulder, and I moved slowly off, across the lawn and onto one of the paths which fanned from it. There, perhaps mindful of the work her sister had already put me to, she allowed me to pull her along at a slow, steady trot. She was not as skilled as her sister; her hand was much heavier on my bit, and several times she pulled my head around with painful force. I was surprised by the extent of my recovery, and felt I could keep up this pace indefinitely, until we came to a gentle slope which soon brought me down to a panting, sweating, walk. In the end she alighted and led me on by my reins until we reached the wooded crest of a smal hill. In a tiny glade at the top, she tethered me to a tree, and stretched herself out on the cool, short turf. There she seemed to doze off, leaving me waiting patiently for further use. It was pleasant here, but soon flies and other insects began to bother me. I learned to flick the fringe of hair flopping down upon my forehead to keep them from settling around my eyes, but I could do nothing to dissuade them from my mouth and nose, only to shake my head from side to side, causing the rings on my bit to jingle aganst the steel clips of my reins, and the bell on my collar to tinkle violently.

Perhaps it was the noise I made doing this which awake the young lady, for she rose to her feet, stretched luxuriously, come over to me where she untied me, and re-took her place in my cart. She drove me off, down the slope at a fast run, then at a slower pace along the path back to the summerhouse, where we found her sister drowsing over Her book.

After tethering me, the young lady went into the summerhouse to re-appear with the refilled jug. She sat down, at which my Lady opened a sleepy eye.

"Dear me!" She yawned. "I really must have fallen asleep.....and it's five o'clock already!"

"No hurry, big Sis!" came the reply. "I took it up the hill...and fell asleep myself!...Have a drink!"

"Very well," my Lady replied. "But then I'll have to start dinner.....Will you take it back, dear?"

"OK.....Which reminds me...we really must find it another name when we're using it as our pony!"

"Mmm!" My Lady sat deep in thought for a moment. Then: "I know! We'll call it 'Muffin'!"

(And so it was to be; I was 'Fido' when I lay at my Lady's feet; 'Muffin' when I pulled her cart.)

My Lady rose and left us, waliking slowly along the path back to the house. Her sister sat a while, then got up and rummaged in the in the back until she emerged, carrying a shallow bowl. "Not cold water, she said," I heard her mutter. "I know! The rainwater butt!" She went around the side of the building to re-emerge staring doubtfully at the contents of the bowl she carried before her. She shrugged, and offered it up to my eager lips. The water was scummy and warm; the corpses of tiny drowned insects floated in it, but to me it was nectar, and I lapped it eagerly. Afterwards, she sat, picked up her sister's abandoned book and began to read as the shadows lengthened about us.

I became bored and restless, standing there in my heavy harness, and began to tread the ground impatiently, and to toss my head, making the chains on my bit jingle and the bell on my collar sound.

At last she put down the book and yawned. She rose, and after taking the used glasses and the jug into the back, came down onto the lawn, untied me, mounted the cart, and drove me off. She kept me at a steady walk all the way back - for which I was grateful, for I was very tired - then drove me into the garage where she unharnessed me.

Then it was on with my leash and "Down, Fido!" as I reverted to dog role. She led me from the garage, through yet another door, into a small, fenced, concrete-paved backyard. Two large trash-cans stood in a corner, and, under a short coiled hose-pipe, there was a dripping tap set low in the wall, with a large bucket beneath. In the centre of the yard was a drain, and just beyond that a steel ring had been set into the concrete; a short chain attached to it. I was taken over to it, and the short chain clipped to my collar. The young lady then left me standing there in the hot, airless yard, while she departed through a door which apparently led into the short passage from the garage to the kitchen; a mouth-watering smell of cooking wafted through it as she closed it behind her.

Minutes ticked by, leaving me increasingly uncomfortable. The tether was much too short to allow me to sit; the concrete too hard for me to lie down on, leaving only standing on all-fours as an alternative.

The young lady came back. She had changed into disreputable old coveralls, and she carried a large, coarse sponge, a plastic bottle of liquid soap, a rubber kneeler, and a colourful aerosol spray can. All these she put down while she filled the bucket from the hose. That done, she set about washing me down with the soapy sponge. She washed me thoroughly all over, including my hair; the soap suds ran into my eyes, making me wince and shake my head violently. Then she washed off the soap with the hose, and left me to dry.

Thanks to the dry heat, in a surprisingly short time I was dry all over, and I felt much refreshed, and grateful to my Lady, whose idea I was sure it had been. (But I had the thought that my 'bath' was not so much for my benefit, but for Her's, lest my rank male smell offend Her fastidious nostrils.)

Back again came the young lady. This time she picked up the aerosol can, and gave it a vigorous shake. I had time to notice its label, showing a handsome Golden Labrador above the words 'PetCare - Dog Deodorant' before she began to spray me, paying particular attention to my armpits and crotch. She undid the chain and put on my leash. Then she led me from the yard into the kitchen, from where issued the appetising smells.

The cooking was evidently nearly finished, for My Lady sat at Her ease at the table, a pre-prandial Martini at hand. Her sister led me over to Her and bade me "Sit!"

My Lady looked down on me casually.

"Thank you, little sister," She said. "And thanks for putting his name disc and bell on his collar....Dinner's almost ready; I've set the Dining Room table for you....I'll take him now while you shower and change."

The young lady handed her the end of my leash.

"OK, Sis!...I'll put on my best dinner dress!" replied her younger sister cheekily.

My Lady looked fondly on her, and chuckled indugently as the young lady left. I regarded my Lady with my usual mixture of awe, trembling adulation, and inferiority. She was smartly, though not formally, dressed, in a tan silk dress with a garnet brooch as discreet decoration. Her immaculately stockinged legs were shod in tan leather high-heeled light shoes. I glanced up at Her, then began stealthily to lower my head towards them. She must have caught my movement, for She pulled sharply back on the leash, dragging my head back up abruptly.

"Oh no you don't, Fido!" She told me. "Not those shoes! Now, Sit!"

Chastened by Her tone, I sat meekly at Her side until Her sister returned. My Lady handed her my leash, saying "Take him into the Dining Room, dear; and put him on that long tether."

The young lady led into the large Dining Room opening off the kitchen. It was about thirty by thirty feet square; as they were the only diners, a small table had been laid for them near the fireplace. I was tied by a long leather thong, allowing me to move fifteen feet or so into the room.

A tureen of soup stood on the dining table; my Lady served them from it. Vichy-suisse by the smell. The two ladies ate heartily of the fresh, crusty bread accompanying it. Then my Lady served steak and salad. My Lady drank a Montrachet '94; her sister, with the happy barbarism of youth, drank Coke. My mouth watered freely at the delicious smell of the steak, so much that I dared to creep across the floor towards them, moving so gently that my bell scarcely sounded. Arriving undetected at the young lady's side, I sat bolt upright and stared at her fixedly. The sudden tinkle of my bell alerted the two to my presence; the young lady glanced down at me, a smile on her lips.

"Hello, Fido!" she said. "Have you come for some scraps?....Here......beg for it!" And she held out a scrap of discarded meat at arm's length.

I begged, imitating the way I'd seen dogs do it; crouched on the balls of my feet, my front paws turned dowwards level with my head. The young lady broke into appreciative laughter.

"Isn't he clever!" she exclaimed. "Here, Fido!"

She held out the scrap enticingly. Instinctively I glanced at my Lady for Her approval. She nodded at me coolly. "Take it, Fido!" She commanded; and I took it from her sister's fingers smoothly and neatly, and gulped it down.

I boldly begged from my Lady next, and She too made me beg first, but I could tell that She did not really approve of my behaviour because immediately afterwards She told me sharply to "Lie down!"

Their final course was a light, summery smelling pudding of some kind, after which they sat back in their chairs for a few minutes breathing sighs of contentment.

"There, little sister!" My Lady said teasingly. "That was better than burgers and fries, wasn't it?"

"Much better!" said Her sister affectionately. "And to show my thanks I shall clear the table and make the coffee!"

"Thank you, my dear. I shall take mine out on the terrace; would you bring me a Grand Marnier with it? Oh, and bring me the bag from the Petstore, please."

Her sister smiled in assent, and left. My Lady glanced down at me lying by her chair. She rose leasurely to Her feet, went over to where my tether was secured, and loosed it. "Heel, Fido!" She directed as She coiled the surplus in Her hand. I ran over to Her, and She led me out onto the terrace where She secured the tether to an upright of the balustrade. She took a seat at the table, and I went to join Her, but was brought up by my tether a yard or so short of Her chair. She spared me a glance, but just then Her sister brought out to Her the gaily coloured plastic bag from the Petstore, their coffee, and my Lady's digestif.

I was too busy straining against my tether to reach Her to notice what She took from the bag, but She sharply ordered me to "Sit!" while She fixed some sort of leather apparatus around my mouth and nose, securing it at the back with a strap and buckle. Then She moved a chair near enough for me to get to Her side, where I immediately, with a guilty glance upward, lowered my head over Her shoes.

But the expected reprimand didn't come; instead I heard my Lady's chuckle, and the happy laughter of Her sister.

"Oh, you've muzzled him! Poor Fido!" she giggled.

"He shall learn which shoes I want him to clean and when!" said my Lady, with mock severity.

"Now, Fido....Lie down!"

Still whining with disappointment, I did as She ordered, at which She placed Her feet, in their chic high-heeled shoes, upon my flank. I was much more content then, even when, as the sisters conversed, my Lady would shift position causing Her sharp heels to dig painfully into my flesh.

Finally the young lady, yawning her fatigue, left us for her bed. My Lady sat on in the soft, warm darkness for a few minutes more before stirring from Her reverie and commanding me to "Sit!" I had almost dozed off, amd obeyed sleepily. She removed my muzzle, then I felt Her fingers at my collar and the end of my tether dropped to the floor. I stared at Her in astonishment as My Lady pointed through the open French doors into the interior.

"Fido!.....Fetch it!" She ordered me.

For a second I was confused, then came instant comprehension. I ran through the French doors, through the Dining Room floor, and into the kitchen. There it was, just where I'd seen my Lady put it! I seized the leash in my teeth, and ran back as fast as I could manage, my paws and knees skidding on the polished wood, until I sat before my Lady, my leash dangling from my jaws. She smiled, but said nothing, only took the leash from me and clipped it to my collar. She replaced my muzzle, rose, and tugged my leash gently. I followed Her, walking decorously by Her side, Her skirt brushing against my shoulder and flank now and again, bringing a faint waft of Her exquisite scent to my nostrils.

She led me into the garage, and up to my cage where She wrinkled Her nose at the smell from my stained and discoloured bedding. But She made no comment; merely clipped on my chain, and removed my leash Then She ushered me into my cage, bolted the door on me, and left.

A few moments after the lights went out. I lay down on the smelly paper pad and prepared for sleep, realising as I did so that my Lady had neglected to remove my muzzle.

Might not She remember this, and return? Or would She, as was far more likely, if She thought about it at all, shrug Her shoulders and dismiss the problem until the morrow?

To Her I was only a dog, after all.

TUESDAY.
There occured a sudden dramatic change in my treatment that morning. Very early, while I was still shivering in my cage, Ms Cardew Herself entered the garage where I was kept. Warmly dressed in a quilted dressing gown over Her nightwear; fluffy bedroom slippers covered Her elegant feet.
She let me out and, after putting on my leash, led me on all-fours over to the deep step upwards leading to the open air. She made a curt gesture; I lay down on the cold concrete and felt Her weight as She used my body as a mounting block to step up onto the threshold. She tugged my leash as a signal to follow Her. Outside, in the chilly dawn air, She led me around a corner of the house to a paved yard in which bordered by various small brick sheds. There She halted me, commanded me to kneel, and, to my pleased surprise, began to speak to me.
"I propose to give you a trial period as My slave - or, rather, as Our Slave, for you will obey My sister as you would Me. Since I was obliged to allow My household staff a holiday during your visit, you will carry out those of their duties I consider appropriate. Your slave-name will be 'Boy'......You will wait upon My sister and I; your default position will be kneeling by My chair, or that of My sister if I am not present. You will not talk; except to reply to Us, and only then if We tell you to 'Answer!'....Do you know what this is, Boy? Answer!"
She produced from a pocket in Her gown a slender silvery rod about six inches long. Holding it pointed at me, She apparently pressed some sort of switch which caused it to suddenly extend to a length of some two feet. I felt its light touch on my left shoulder and saw Her forefinger move a trifle. Immediately an agonising pain shot through my shoulder and I let out a stifled yelp of pain.
"It is a slave-prod, and you will be punished with it — at least, by Me; although My sister may prefer her dog whip...........Now, give Me your paws!"
Kneeling, I extended my mitted hands to Her. She released the small clips which held them on my wrists.
"Take them off, and go over there into the shower I had put in for My gardeners. Wash yourself thoroughly, use the animal deodorant I bought for you, wear the old sandals you will find there, removing them only when you come indoors. Then come to Me in the kitchen — you have ten minutes!"
And with that She left me. I went immediately into the shower and used it to the full, exulting in the warm water against my skin. (First I'd debated removing my collar; now that I had the use of my fingers I could have done so easily, and replaced it without anyone being the wiser. But the Lady Cardew, my Owner, had Herself buckled it around my neck to mark me as Her property; and only She could remove it.) I dried myself on the skimpy, threadbare towels I found there, and hung them up to dry, then I put on the sandals and made my way to the kitchen. Before entering by the door to the yard, I removed them, and came in barefoot to find Ms Cardew sitting elegantly at the large table, drinking coffee. She spared me a glance as I took up my position kneeling at Her side, then stretched out a slender arm and touched my wet collar. Her look of approval enchanted me.
"What a clever boy you are!" She cooed. "Recognising that only I can take off your collar. Now, unload the dishwasher, and put the things away. Wait! Wear these! I will not eat from anything a slave has touched!" And She indicated a large box of disposable plastic gloves.
I obeyed instantly, of course; and soon all the dishes, cutlery, etc. were in their right and proper places. Unprompted, I resumed my kneeling position while She continued to drink Her coffee.
Finally She rose: "Stay!" She commanded me, and walked off into the house, leaving me to wait patiently for Her return.
Ms Cardew returned perhaps half an hour later. She had made Her toilette, and changed into a lightweight summer suit of Lincoln Green; flat-heeled brogues of the same shade on Her feet.
"Boy! Fetch your muzzle and leash!" She snapped.
I rose, and went immediately to where they hung from their accustomed hooks. I brought them to Her in my mouth, being careful to hold them so that my saliva would not accidentally touch Her skin. I knelt, and She put on my muzzle and clipped my leash to my collar.
"Stand!" and She led me from the house into the by-now warm outside air. Without a further word She walked on, I automatically taking up a position half a step behind Her in the classic slave manner, and enjoying the strange sense of rightness and security that being on my Goddess's leash brought me. We walked on the grass verge at the side of the gravelled drive, in a silence broken only by the sounds of early morning bird song and the faint tinkling of the bell on my collar. Finally we came to an old, high wall, evidently the boundary of Ms Cardew's property for a solid wooden gate closed off the entrance into the world outside. Set into the wall low down was a large wooden hatch. Ms Cardew opened it to reveal a U.S Mail bag, and a bundles of newspapers wrapped in plastic.
"Take them!" She told me, and I stooped and picked them up.
She tugged my leash, and led me back the way we had come. Back in the kitchen She bade me put my load on the table. She took off my leash, and made me hang it up. Then She opened the Mailbag and began to sort Her post while I took up my position kneeling by Her chair.
Expertly She sorted the wheat from the chaff in the morning's mail, piling the various documents in three piles.
"Fetch the bin!" She ordered me, and I scrambled over and brought it back. She tossed the rejected mail onto the floor; I picked it up and put it in the bin. She stripped off the plastic wrappers from the newspapers and treated that likewise.
"Throw all that into the trashcan in the backyard. Then come back and fix Me some coffee — and use your gloves!"
I did as She said, returning to find She had put two croissants into the oven to warm, and had put plates, cutlery, and a Jar of Cooper's Oxford Marmalade on the table ready for Her usual breakfast.
I made a pot of fresh coffee, and brought it to Her on a silver salver, earning from my Mistress an appreciative smile which made my heart bound with joy. She made a leisurely breakfast; when She finished She ordered me to remove the used crockery and cutlery to the dish washer. I scraped the flakes of pastry into the leftovers bucket into the sink, staring hungrily at its contents as I did so.
"You will do this every morning for me, Boy. That is, when your cage door opens in the morning you will shower, deodorise yourself, and put on your muzzle. First you will fetch My mail and newspapers from the hatch at the end of the drive. Then you will make coffee and lay the table, then you will wait outside the back kitchen door until I order you to Me. Do you understand? Answer!"
"Yes, Mistress!" I spoke the first words to pass my lips since I had met Her at the Airport.
"See that you do!.....Now go into the back yard and take a drink from the tap; you may remove your muzzle to do so, but make sure you replace it immediately. Then take up your default position outside the back door and stay there until you are called!"
With that She swept the mail and papers into a Louis Vuitton briefcase, and left the room. I did as She told me, and was pleased and touched at my Lady's kindness in providing a small square of old carpet for me to kneel on the concrete threshold of the back door.
There I knelt, quite comfortably and relaxed with my hands resting on my knees, despite my hunger. The house was silent; of my Mistress there was no sign. I reflected with satisfaction on the changes in my circumstances; I had thought being Her dog or Her draught animal a privilege I could hardly aspire to, but to be Her slave, and to be so much more often in Her close company was something I had never dared to dream of!
This train of thought was broken abruptly by a call from inside the kitchen.
"Boy! Come here!"
The voice was that of my Lady's sister; I found her sitting at the table in her usual early morning deshabille. She yawned as I knelt by her chair.
"Orange juice! And cereal! Bring the organic milk in the blue container!"
I moved quickly to do as I was bid, bringing spoons and sugar too; then I knelt again and watched her eat. She finished, yawned again, then rose and left the room. Unbidden, I cleared the table and fed the dishwasher, after first scraping the milk-sodden remains of her uneaten cereal into the scraps bucket. Then I knelt outside the back door again.
The young lady called for me about half an hour later. I found her in the kitchen, her laptop case and her briefcase on the table. She made me fetch my leash and told me to kneel as she clipped it on. Then, after ordering me to pick up her cases, she led me outside into the sunny morning.
Along shady paths and through sunlit glades we went, until we reached the Summerhouse where she intended to work that morning. There, she made me put down the cases on the table, then led me off the wooden boardwalk and tied my leash to an upright at the end. She went back to sit at the table, while I lay down on the patch of cool grass my tether allowed me to reach where, in spite of my hunger, I fell into a light doze.
I was woken abruptly by a sharp call from the young lady.
"Boy! Come here!"
I undid my leash and scrambled back onto the boardwalk to where she sat; there I fell to my knees expectantly.
"Get me a drink! Perrier water and plenty of ice!"
I hastened to obey. Finding another large box of disposable gloves in the tiny kitchen, I poured the lady's drink carefully. I brought it to her on a silver salver, then knelt by her chair to await her further instructions.
She sipped her drink, worked at her laptop, and ignored me.
After a time her mobile telephone gave a discreet buzz.
"Yes?........Yes, Sis...............Yes...........I will!"
She turned to me.
"Go at once to the front door of the house, take off your muzzle, and get into your box!......Go now!"
I must have shown some inadvertent reluctance at the prospect, for she took up a short whip and lashed me twice in quick succession across the shoulders as I knelt before her. Painfully I rose to my feet and ran, the bell on my collar tinkling madly.
Through the dappled sunlight I ran, until I came to the front porch of the house where the tiny cage, its wooden sides and top already assembled around it, stood waiting for me. I took off my muzzle, than wriggled into the cage under the raised wooden end piece which came down, trapping me inside, once my feet cleared the threshold.
It was hot and stuffy in the box, and my surroundings were completely silent. I was becoming cramped, and beginning to pant in the heat, when I heard the distinctive soft purr of Ms Cardew's SUV being driven up. I heard it stop on the gravelled drive, then heard the doors open and close as its occupants alighted.
There seemed to be three of them, all Women by their voices; one of whom my own dear Goddess, whose clear tones became audible to me where I crouched in the hot darkness.
"Ah! There it is!.....You first, Flora; then you, Constance......I will not have my guests with dusty shoes!"
Immediately a broad, heavy brogue was placed upon the grid in front of me. I lowered my head and began to lick it clean. A little water in a small dish, then the other shoe. I continued with the smaller, plain leather shoes of Constance, then with the elegant footwear of my Lady herself after which the other two walked off while Ms Cardew remained to lift the wooden door and let me out.
"Go and wash, and use your deodorant!" She ordered me. "You may drink, too. Then put on your muzzle and take up your position at the back door. Wait there for orders.....and you will obey my friends as you would Me!"
Ten minutes later I sat on the scrap of carpet on the back door porch, ready and waiting. Sure enough, after a few minutes, a call came to me from the patio.
It was an unfamiliar voice. "Boy! Come here!"
I scrambled to my feet and ran the few yards around the corner of the house to where Ms Cardew's two friends sat in comfortable chairs in the shade. Instinctively I went to where the older Woman sat to kneel by the side of her chair.
"Fetch drinks for us! Fresh orange juice with plenty of ice!" she commanded.
I rose, and went at once into the kitchen where I arranged glasses and a tall, frosted pitcher of ice cubes and orange juice on a silver tray, taking care to don plastic gloves before I did so. I carried the salver to them, placing each glass on a coaster on the small table at the side of each chair. Then I knelt again by the elder's side.
"So this is Cardew's new slave," said the younger, in syrupy 'Southern belle' tones. "He seems quite intelligent!"
"I think you'll find that's due to Cardew's training," drawled the other. "She hand-picked this one from a good many applicants."
"Wonder if she'd like to sell him?" mused her companion, sipping from her glass.
"Not at the moment, Constance dear!" came the reply from my Owner, who had made a silent entrance.
She took a seat, whereupon I went to kneel by Her side while She continued. "I chose him from a long list — but only after I had an in-depth psychological study done on him. He's my slave, or my dog, or my pony as I please; he's quite intelligent and entirely tame and obedient. I'm rather pleased with him!"
At this, I rubbed my head affectionately against the hand She had casually draped over the arm of Her chair. She ruffled my hair for a few seconds, then commanded me to fetch fresh juice and a glass for Her.
I obeyed instantly, and on my return the Goddess ordered me to lie on the floor in the centre of the group. There I lay, my head on my front paws, while they discussed me as though I wasn't there, or as if I was only an animal who couldn't understand what they were saying.
"He seems to have been naughty!" said one of them, prodding the welts on my back with her shoe.
"Yes!" said my Lady with amusement in Her voice. "My younger sister has a short fuse when faced with what she construes as less than instant obedience!"
"How do you punish him, Cardew?" enquired the other.
"I don't need to," my Goddess said. "Except when I think he's being a little slow to obey. But he DOES obey me; he's no longer capable of not obeying me."
"Show us!" Her friends demanded.
My Lady shrugged.
"If you wish!........Boy!.........Fetch your whip!"
I rose and scuttled on all fours into the kitchen where I retrieved the short whip from its hook on the wall by the back door. I brought it back to my Lady in my mouth, being careful to hold it well below the handle. There I presented it to Her in my begging position.
She took it from me and rose to Her feet.
"Sit!" She commanded me. Then She brought down the whip with all Her strength across my shoulders. As I writhed in agony She flung the whip from Her.
"Fetch it!" She ordered me.
I did so, with the same result. Several times She repeated these manoeuvres until I was crawling back and forth, gasping with exertion and sobbing with pain.
Finally She instructed me to lie down.
"There......satisfied?" She enquired in a hard tone.
"Very impressive, dear!" said the older Woman, after a short silence.
"You'd get a good price for a well-broken in slave like him, Cardew," the younger of Her friends remarked, "and you could always get another. In fact, you could start up a nice little business!"
"I have quite enough money for my needs!" my Mistress informed her, a touch of frost in her well-modulated tones.
"All the same, Cardew dear," Flora, the older Woman remarked, "Constance has a point. I'd buy him myself like a shot — though not as he is now. I'd have him cut first."
"Cut?" wondered Constance aloud. Then: "Oh! I see! Like they do to horses!"
"Exactly!" exclaimed Flora. "I'm surprised you haven't had him cut already, Cardew; don't you find his male smell unbearable? And you surely don't intend to breed from him?"
"I may have him gelded when he's with me permanently," my Lady drawled languidly, Her fingers ruffling though my hair. "But he's quite docile as it is. I shall only consider it should his training show signs of wearing off. As an animal I don't particularly object to him smelling — animals do smell! When he's in slave mode, as now, I make him shower several times a day; and I've bought him plenty of dog deodorant. If I decide to breed from him, it shall be by Artificial Insemination anyway; not so much fun for the subjects, but far more reliable!"
"I have an idea!" Constance broke in excitedly. "There's to be a slave auctioned off at Dolly's place on Thursday - I heard it through the grapevine! What say we all go over and see what price it fetches? And you could show off your new property, Cardew!"
This proposition being agreed to, the Ladies fell into a friendly silence, sipping their drinks, and enjoying the soft, warm air. I was left to reflect on the recent conversation. To my surprise, I wasn't in the least concerned about what they'd discussed. Ms Cardew was my Owner, and what She decided for me would happen; as Her property I would not be consulted or even informed, and that was as it should be. I was more interested in the automatic, unthinking way I'd obeyed the commands of my Lady's friends; in fact, the same way I'd obeyed, and still obeyed, my Goddess's younger sister. And, I realised, I was unthinkingly mentally using a capital 'W' in the words 'Woman' and 'Women'; it struck me that I'd become completely unable to disobey an order coming from one of these infinitely superior beings, chief amongst whom was my own Mistress, Ms Cardew. It was perfectly true what my Lady had said; I WAS now absolutely unable to disobey Her; the very concept seemed too difficult for me to grasp. And it had been like that since I read Her first message to me; She had put an invisible collar around my neck at that moment to claim me for Her own.
This train of thought was broken by my Lady ordering me to lay the table for four in the Small Dining Room, then to run at once to the Summerhouse to carry back her sister's cases. I did as I was told, meeting the young lady as she was about to leave. She brought me back on my leash, took her cases from me, and bade me sit on my patch of carpet and await orders.
I was by now very, very hungry, and the delicious smells coming through from the kitchen were tantalising. Some sort of fish, it smelled like, with a delicate sauce and lightly cooked vegetables was to form the main course.
I wasn't called to serve the Ladies, but while they ate my Owner made me scrape out the cooking pans before placing them in the dishwasher, and when they'd finished their delicate confection of a dessert, She called me in to clear away the dirty dishes. Then, at last, after I'd stacked the dishwasher again, the young lady came into the kitchen and told me to take the swill bucket from under the sink, to go to my position outside the back door, to take off my muzzle and eat what scraps and leftovers I could stomach. Afterwards, I was to wash out and replace the bucket, shower and deodorise myself, and wait for further orders.
She followed me, and watched for a moment as I fed ravenously from the smelly bucket, shovelling the mixture of scraps into my mouth with both hands; finally she turned away in disgust and left me.
About an hour later, I was kneeling comfortably on my scrap of old carpet with my stomach full, and enjoying the cool breeze which had sprung up as the sun passed its zenith, the my Lady's younger sister came to me. I hadn't yet replaced my muzzle, and I felt a twinge of fear at this omission, but she made no comment, merely clipped on my leash and led me around the house and into the garage.
There she harnessed me to the cart I'd pulled yesterday. I stood completely unresisting as she fitted my heavy leather harness and strapped my forearms together behind my back, and I co-operated by opening my mouth for her to insert my bit when she tightened my bridle around my head. I heard the cart creak, and felt its balance alter as she mounted into her seat, then she remotely opened the large garage doors and drove me out with a flick of her whip on my haunches.
Ms Cardew's sister made me move at a smart trot; it wasn't at all tiring, and I found I was enjoying the feeling of the cool air against my skin as I ran along the shady paths, the short turf soft and cool beneath my pounding feet.
As we went along, I was struck by the realisation of how little I knew about the geography of my Lady's grounds, in spite of my several journeys around various parts of them since I'd arrived. But the solution was, of course, that I'd almost always been led or driven, where I was going had never been a decision I'd had to make.
I pulled her along in the cart for about half an hour when we returned to the house from the opposite direction, ending our run on the lawn before the patio. There I was tethered to an upright in the shade and left to myself.
The young lady had vanished into the house and there was neither sight nor sound of any of my Goddess or Her friends; the fresh sea breeze was keeping away the flies, and I was perfectly happy just to stand there, a tethered beast waiting patiently for my Mistress.

MY VACATION: PART THREE: Tuesday.

But it was Her sister who returned, carrying with her a large cool-box which she strapped to the rear of my cart. She untethered me, took her seat in the cart, and whipped me into a fast trot. I was panting and sweating when we arrived at our destination: the Summerhouse, where my Lady and her two friends sat upon the broad wooden verandah in the shade.

"Got the ice, sis!" the young lady exclaimed triumphantly as she pulled me up with a jerk on the lawn before them. She got down and handed the cooler up to her sister.

Ms Howard wrinkled her delicate nose. "Tether the beast downwind, little sister; please!" She said as She turned away into the tiny kitchen.

"I will, Sis!" came the cheerful reply. "And I'll swill him down too!"

With that she led me off into the small concreted yard behind the structure where she dipped a bucket into the rain-water butt and poured its sun-warmed contents over me. She used another two buckets before she was satisfied, then she tied me to a steel ring set in the wall and left me for the verandah, from which came the sounds of ice tinkling in glasses of cool liquid among animated conversation.

I soon became very bored with my environment; the walled yard, though shaded, was hot and airless, the hard concrete hurt my feet, my tether was so short I couldn't turn my head, and my only view was of the brick wall framed in my blinkers eighteen inches in front of my eyes; on top of all this the flies found me, clustering around my eyes and on the saliva drooling from the corners of my mouth where my bit entered my mouth, causing me to toss my head about in attempts to dislodge them. Nor could I find any distraction in listening to the conversation of my Lady and Her companions; they were too far from me for anything but a buzz of voices to be audible.

I stood there in silent misery for what seemed a very long time before the wide wooden gate to the yard opened and the young lady came to me. She led me out onto the lawn where the cooler air was intensely refreshing. There she re-tethered me for the purpose of giving me a much-needed drink. The rest of the group, my Goddess among them, sat at their ease at the table. From their conversation I soon gathered that I had been led there so that Ms Howard's two friends could have the opportunity of taking a ride.

Flora seemed very confident; she had, she declared, been raised on a farm and had driven carts in her childhood. Constance was much less so, and was anxiously quizzing my Owner on the methods of controlling my movements by means of reins attached to a bit in my mouth.

"It's quite easy, dear," I heard my Lady explain, "Muffin is very tame and well-broken to his cart. Hold his reins with your hands about a foot apart; if you want to turn him just pull - gently! - on the rein attached to the side of his bit you want him to turn to. The harder you pull, the sharper the angle he will try to turn. Bear in mind that, because his head is forced down and forward by his leaning into his harness, he won't be able to see more than a few feet in front of him; you will have to direct his movements through his bit. To slow him, pull back on both reins. To stop him, keep pulling back gently until he comes to a halt. And remember, one flick of the whip to make him walk off, another to make him trot, a third makes him increase speed again, and a fourth makes him go to his full extent. But you won't need that; best to keep him at a slow trot as he can keep that up for a long time. If he seems to be tiring, slow down; if he's in obvious distress, stop long enough for him to recover. If a grade gets too steep for him, dismount and lead him up. Remember he's an animal, not a machine........ And don't forget: the whip isn't for punishing him; it's to tell him what degree of speed or effort you want from him."

Her Southern friend seemed far from convinced, but she took up her seat while Ms Howard's sister held my reins. She passed them up to Constance; I could tell the exact point at which they changed hands from the difference between the confident handling of the young lady, and the timorous way Constance was holding them.

"Brake off, dear ........and use your whip!" my Lady called to her.

I heard the click as the brake was released, and stood for a moment uncertain what to do. Ms Howard had trained me to move off only when she shook my reins or flicked me with Her whip. But quite quickly Constance got the idea; I heard the swish of the whip and felt the pain as the lash struck me high on the back.

"Lower down! Not so hard with the whip, dear!" My Lady called as we moved off.

Constance had not been exaggerating her lack of experience. She was, by turns, either too heavy or too light on my bit, causing me to turn too early or too late and constantly having to correct me. Fortunately she was content for a time with keeping me at a slow walk while she gained confidence. She'd driven me onto the long straight which I recognised as ending at the Estate gates before I felt a second blow from her whip which told me to increase my speed to a trot. Becoming over-confident, she whipped me into a canter, with the result that she had to clumsily and painfully pull back on my bit to slow me enough to take the sharp corner where the path continued along the side of the boundary wall. Sobered by this near miss, she contented herself with keeping me at a slow trot, straight though the way was. But it was climbing, and soon I was panting and slowing in spite of my best efforts to keep up to speed. Naturally she misunderstood; equally naturally she struck me heavily across my back and my straining haunches several times in her exasperation to make me increase my speed, but then she evidently realised her mistake and eased back on the reins, allowing me to find my best pace up the grade. At the top she allowed me to rest for a few minutes before urging me on. It was all downhill now, and much easier for me although the path wound and twisted among the trees showing up her unsureness with the reins. I was very glad indeed when we finally arrived back at our starting point.

"My turn now!" exclaimed Flora, rising from her chair eagerly.

"Not yet, dear!" replied my Lady. "Give him a little time to recover. Freshen up your drink, and I'll give him some water."

The Goddess Herself came down to water me. She pulled on a pair of plastic gloves, of course, to avoid soiling Her carefully manicured hands, filled the shallow plastic bowl they watered me from when I was in harness, and held it to my eager lips.

While I drank noisily I could sense Her disapproval and imagine the tell-tale slight thinning of Her lips as She inspected the angry welts on my back, buttocks and thighs. I suspected it was only the claims of old friendship that had persuaded Her to allow Her friends to drive me, and that She was now regretting it. But finally She turned from me with an audible sigh and signalled Her older friend to come down and mount.

My Mistress handed Flora my reins with the following: "Take it easy, dear; he's getting tired! Tell you what - why don't you drive him to the house, and bring back more ice? There's some nice straights, and it's fairly flat."

"Don't worry Cardew, dear!" came the breezy reply. "I shan't exhaust the brute!" And she shook my reins and commanded sharply "Muffin! Walk on!"

I was reassured by her confident handling, so different from that of poor Constance, as I moved off a slow walk. The way off the lawn back to the house was straight, and I needed no guidance to take it. The first hundred yards was straight, and Flora whipped me into a slow trot. It was only when we went to take the first slight bend that I began to realise that I may have exchanged King Log for King Stork. For Flora was, as well as being older than her friends, considerably heavier; her fault was over-confidence; also she was more brutal on my bit than anyone who'd driven me so far. In spite of the relatively slow pace I was beginning to pant when we reached the junction where the path to the left led to the house. The path on the right I did not know; looking down it I could only see that it was straight, and the trees seemed to thin out further along it.

Flora brought me to a halt at the junction for some reason; I was glad of the brief rest; my Lady had been right - I WAS tired.

She shook my reins and I moved off, but as I instinctively made to turn to take the path to the house Flora tugged my head savagely round to the right, forcing me onto the other path where she whipped me back into my slow trot. I wondered about this change in plans, but obeyed as I had no choice - I'd no idea why or where we were going, but then; I had no need to know; I was only a draught animal whose movements were under the control of its Mistress.

After about four hunded yards the trees thinned out completely, and the turf beneath my feet became hot sand. In front of me, I sensed that the track ran straight and level through sandy scrub. But I had little time for surmise; my driver immediately whipped me into my fast trot mode. At first it wasn't too bad; the ocean could not have been very far for the cool breeze was stronger, and I could smell the salt in the air, also a high haze had cut some of the heat from the sun, but as I was driven on and on I began to flag under the burden of my previous exertions and the unaccustomed weight of my Lady's large friend. She was having none of that, as I soon discovered. As I slowed, her whip would fall hard and painfully upon my shoulders, my back and my haunches, as she ruthlessly kept me at the speed she wanted from me

I was reaching the end of my resources and panting with exhaustion when the trees re-appeared around us, the path became turf again, and very shortly, much to my relief, we stopped on the gravel at the front porch. Without even bothering to tether me, Flora got down and bustled into the house. She was away just long enough to let me get back my breath before remounting and whipping me into motion. I found her still as heavy-handed on my bit, and my jaws were sore and aching when I was finally stopped at the Summerhouse. So was relieved was I by the end of my ordeal that I was happy to be led into the concrete yard and tied in the position I'd found so unbearable earlier.

Drooping with tiredness in my sweaty harness, I heard the gate open and someone come to my side. I could tell it was my Mistress from the sound of Her footsteps and the faint hint of Her exquisite perfume which I inhaled greedily. I couldn't see her, of course, due to my blinkers. There was concern - and some anger - in Her soft voice as She spoke to me.

"Oh, you poor thing! I shouldn't have let them treat you so badly, whipping your poor back like that! And tiring you so, too!"

She ruffled my hair with Her fingers, and I felt Her fingers gently trace my welts through Her plastic gloves.

"Only a little while longer and I'll take you back and let you rest a spell." And with that she left me, contented and cheered beyond measure by my beloved Goddess's concern for me. Alas! It was not to be, as I soon discovered a little while later when She Herself returned to lead me out onto the lawn. Flora, apparently, had raised such an outcry about the prospect of having to walk the half mile or so back to the house that she had prevailed upon my Lady to allow her to drive me there, after which she would send me back alone to collect my Mistress.

"You say it's a clever beast," she said cunningly, "and so it should be able to get back here on its own! The two young ones can easily walk back, but I don't believe in using my own muscles when an animal's muscles are available - what else are they for?"

Ms Cardew had been obliged to agree with this inexorable logic; the two younger Women had left for the house, and my Owner felt it owing to to Her older friend not to have her walk back instead of riding.

So once again I carried this large, heavy Woman; once again I suffered her heavy hand on my bit and felt the painful blows from her whip.

At the house she alighted, flicked me with the whip, and told me to go to my Mistress. The reins she had loosely tied to the headboard of my cart and I wasn't disturbed by a rider's insistence that I should go this way or that. Also, without the weight of a rider, the cart was amazingly light, and I arrived in front of the Summerhouse where my Lady was waiting in only a few minutes.

I felt the cart shift as She took Her seat, then the gentle, confident, reassuring way She shook my reins to start me moving. Coming off the lawn, instead of taking the direct, shortest route to the house, She steered me onto another which I recognised as a longer one, but which had the advantage of being shaded most of the way. I was brought to a trot; both my Mistress and Her beast enjoying the rush of cool air against their respective skins. Her slender hands were sure in directing me; Her whip fell upon my haunches only when She judged I needed to make more effort to keep up my steady pace. In spite of my fatigue, I found I was enjoying myself; but then I would have run until my heart burst to spare my Goddess a single unecessary step.

She drove me into the cool garage; then, with Her own hands She unharnessed me. When I'd been freed of all the paraphernalia of harness, bridle and bit, and my arms released from behind my back, my Lady spoke.

"Go into your cage," She ordered me, "and rest. When I raise the door, come out, and get into your box. Wait there for me."

She watched me scramble into my cage and lowered the door on me using the remote. During this operation Her sister appeared.

"Oh! There you are, Sis!"

"Come and see what those two butchers have done to poor Fido's back!" my Mistress said indignantly, and I felt again the soothing touch of Her gloved hand tracing the weals on my body.

The young lady came over and stared down at me. Her tone was careless as she replied.

"Oh; be reasonable, big sister! The skin isn't broken - and it's only a beast!"

"I'm well aware of the condition of its skin, but it's my beast and my property!" My Mistress retorted fiercely. "And I do not care to have my property abused! I should never have agreed to let them drive him!"

"No help for it now," soothed Her sister. "Come and have a cold drink - and I'll help you prepare dinner!"

The two left, my Lady somewhat mollified, while I lay there ecstatic at this further evidence of Her concern for my welfare.

Only a short time later I fell into a deep sleep, from which I was woken by the sound of the cage door opening. Mindful of my Lady's instructions I did as She had bidden me. Crouched uncomfortably in the hot, cramped box, but much refreshed by my short sleep, I waited in patient docility for my Goddess.

She was not long in coming, accompanied by the other Women. I licked clean the shoes of all four, from the large sensible brogues of Flora to the chic leather shoes of Constance, and from her to the unaccustomed evening shoes of the young lady. Obviously her Sister had shamed her into wearing a proper dress and proper shoes for once! My Lady was kind enough to ensure that I was offered water to keep my mouth from drying up. I eagerly anticipated the appearance of Her slim and elegant feet, and when the first shoe was put on the grill below my waiting mouth I began to work on it with religious devotion. I licked it and its mate with loving care, anxious that I didn't moisten them too much (for they were the cream coloured shoes she had prevented me from licking before) for I feared to permanantly darken their colour. As usual, I was ultra-careful not to allow my saliva to contact Her skin through the sheer stockings She wore when I cleaned the tops of Her shoes above Her shapely ankles. To finish, of Her's alone did I lick the soles; no dirt of any kind should remain on Ms Howard's shoes!

She spoke to me.

"On your release clean and deodorise yourself, then go to your usual station and wait for my call. You will wear your muzzle."

I heard them leave, then was alone for some considerable time, as it seemed to me - I couldn't tell the passing time from the fading evening light for it was, of course, always pitch dark in my cage. But I endured it philosphically; perhaps my Lady had temporarily forgotten me, or had found a more important task than to release an animal she had no immediate use for.

Finally She raised the door by remote control. I wriggled out, stretched, then went at once to the shower. Ten minutes later, clean and muzzled, I knelt on the kitchen doorstep in the warm darkness.

It seemed they were to dine al fresco on the patio, for it was there that my Lady summoned me. She instructed me to set the table, and watched critically as I did so, with sparkling silver and glassware, and gleaming napery. She gave me Her orders.

"You shall stand by the side of my chair on my right and wait upon us this evening. You shall wear these." She proffered a pair of spotless cotton gloves. "Now take up your position."

I did as She commanded, standing patiently with my hands behind my back. She turned and left, to return shortly with the rest of the party. They took their seats, my Lady at the table's head, Constance on Her right and Flora on Her left; Her sister facing Her. My Lady laid before Her a short ivory handled whip; no more than a toy, it looked, a bare eighteen inches long. Its purpose soon became apparent, for She picked it up and flicked me negligently upon the thigh. "Wine!" She said.

I went at once to the side table where all was set out in readiness and, by the greatest of good fortune, and aided by the sudden realisation that the meal was to be a cold repast and that the first course was to be gazpacho, I opened a bottle of Red wine and brought it to the table. I poured a little into my Lady's glass, and awaited Her approval of the vintage. She smelled it, sipped delicately, then nodded her approval, at which I filled Her glass and those of Her neighbours before returning to Her side. Even the young lady took a glass of the Chateau LaFitte '97 - though I fear her taste in these things remained uninstructed, for she wrinkled her nose at the bouquet.

"Barbarian child!" said my Lady fondly. "But you shall have a decent meal with a good wine for once instead of that wretched junk food and Coca-Cola you subsist upon for once!"

I saw the young lady grin at my Mistress in cheeky affection before Ms Howard flicked me once more with Her whip. I construed this to mean I was to serve the soup, which I did, bringing with it a basket of crusty bread rolls and the butter dish. I was correct, for my Lady made no comment; merely patted my thigh with the handle of Her whip in approval when I came back to stand by Her chair.

I stood there patiently as they ate, keeping an attentive eye on the level in their glasses in order to replenish them at need.

I cleared away the used plates and served the second course; a sea-food platter with a delicate lemon sauce. With this they drank a soft white wine. I served Vouvray with their dessert, a crisp and creamy confection based on meringues and Kirsch. Then I cleared the table and placed a decanter of Port and baskets of fruit and nuts before them before going to the kitchen to scrape the remains of the meal into the swill bucket and place the dirty utensils, cutlery and dishes in the dishwasher. That done, I returned to find they had removed to the broad wicker chairs further down the patio where they sat conversing in a pool of soft light. It was there I brought them coffee and liquors; even the young lady partaking of them to my Lady's teasing delight.

No duties being assigned me, on an impulse I went down at my Goddess's feet and rubbed my head against Her ankles.

I sensed Her glance down at me with approval.

"Good boy!" She said. "Now lie down so I can rest my feet on you!"

I obeyed with enthusiasm, and seconds later heard the silken whisper of Her clothing, and smelt Her fragrance as She lifted Her long, slim legs and placed Her feet upon my flank. I shuddered in ecstacy at the feel of the hard soles of Her shoes and the sharp stabs of Her narrow heels as She found a position comfortable to Her.

"Ah! That's so much better!" She sighed peacefully.

Her two friends were both impressed and envious.

"You've done an excellent job of training him, Cardew," Constance said. "But why do you keep him muzzled all the time?"

"Why? Partly so he can't eat anything I don't know about, but mostly because, if he wasn't muzzled, he'd be pestering me to let him lick my shoes!"

"I wish you'd sell him to me, Cardew," said Flora wistfully. "I'd love to have him lying at MY feet!"

"I won't sell him - at least, not yet!" laughed my Lady. "But you shall at least have the pleasure of him at your feet."......Boy! Go to Mistress Flora! Obey her!"

She lifted Her feet from my body and flicked me sharply on my lank with her whip. I rose to all fours at once and scrambled across to that lady.

"Boy! Lie down! Roll over!" Flora commanded me.

Obediently I did as she said, whereupon she slipped off her shoes and placed her large, heavy feet upon me and began to massage my belly with her toes, sighing with satisfaction as she did so.

I heard the affectionate laughter of the other Women before Constance spoke up, a trace of envy in her voice.

"You're so lucky, Cardew! I've been advertising on the Net for a slave for ages; and all I get are time-wasters and psychos. How on earth did you get this one so quickly?"

"My problem too!" Flora contributed.

"Elementary, my dear Watson's! You forget that I command the services of a top flight Human Resources Department with more Doctorates in Psychology than you can shake a stick at. Boy answered my advertisement; he completed the simple written task I set him on their recommendation; I sent the results to them, and they informed me he fitted the profile by more than 99%! Q.E.D!"

The other two digested this thoughtfully.

"Yes........I suppose we could hire these people." reflected Flora.

"Or you could buy a slave at the auction on Thursday!" my Lady said teasingly.

Constance exploded.

"Oh, come on, Cardew!" she said in disgust. "You know very well there aren't ten genuine slaves in the whole State! Who on Earth is going to sell one to me? And there only one slave for sale at the auction and she's fifteen years old and female!"

"Jean will be there with Puss," remarked Flora, joining in the game of teasing her friend. "She may entertain an offer for him!"

"Fat chance!" snorted Constance. "Jean dotes on that young rogue!"

At this, Ms Cardew's sister, who had been listening to these exchanges with avid and puzzled interest, broke in.

"What did you mean by 'genuine slaves,' Constance? And how can one sell a slave these days? Isn't that illegal? And if they're so scarce, why should anyone want to sell them? And who's Puss?"

Ms Howard and Her friends chuckled. Constance was the first to reply to her.

"There are a great many people in this State who would describe themselves as slaves, dear; they may even live with their Masters or Mistresses on a permanent basis. But they're not true slaves. In reality they can walk out at any time, secure in the law's protection."

"Yes, dear!" my Lady interjected. "They even have signed contracts."

Her sister wrinkled her brow prettily.

"I'm afraid I don't quite understand," she admitted.

"Well, dear.........by definition a slave can have no legal rights against its Owner. For instance, Boy here has no contract with me. He's just property, like a car or a horse. When I'd selected him, I informed him he was my slave, and that was that. I owned him from that moment; he wasn't asked or consulted about my decision."

Thus my Lady's explanation.

"But if he'd refused?" persisted the younger Woman.

"He just can't refuse a command from me, dear; anymore than he can refuse to obey the Law of Gravity - his psychological profile tells me so. You must have seen enough evidence of that by now, surely?"

(I listened to this converation entirely without rancour, lying on my side with Mistress Flora's thick ankles resting on my still sore ribs).

"Yes; I suppose I have," admitted the other. "But what about buying and selling slaves? That's illegal, surely!"

"Ah!" said Constance mysteriously. "But only when the Law is made aware that someone is a slave; or when the slave knows there is any legal redress!"

The young lady raised her eyebrows quizzically at this statement.

"Take the slave who's going to be auctioned on Thursday," went on Constance. "At present she's owned by a Woman called Zenobia. As I remember, the slave's called 'Moth'; she's fifteen or sixteen years old, and should fetch around $250,000."

"Wow!" exclaimed the impressed young lady. "But where did this Zenobia get her from? And why does she want to sell her?"

"Zenobia raises, trains, and sell slaves as a side line to her main business of selling pedigree Labrador puppies, dear." Explained Flora. "She buys a child from slum parents in Brazil, or the Philipines, or India, of about fifteen months old, takes them to her ranch, and brings them up as slaves."

"But surely.....?"

"She ensures their complete seclusion; she even has their vocal cords cut and their ear-drums pierced so that they never learn to talk," broke in Constance. "Kept in those conditions, they grow up with no idea that being a slave is in any way abnormal. She communicates with them in a sign language she invented. They can understand and carry out simple commands quite adequately."

"And their training?" queried my Lady's sister.

"Traditional. Rewards and punishment."

"And then she sells them? To anyone?"

"Oh no!" said Flora. "Never to males; and only to buyers who are very carefully vetted in advance. She won't sell to anyone who might treat them cruelly. She sells one about every fifteen months - 90% of them females because Third World parents don't value their girl children very much. She sold Puss, one of her rare male slaves, to Jean about two years ago."

"Puss?" enquired the young lady.

"Dear Zenobia names her slaves when she acquires them; they soon learn to answer to them. Puss was about sixteen at the time, I think. Zenobia had him 'cut' first, of course; she wouldn't sell a male slave otherwise. And Jean has come to dote on him: she never lets him out of her sight!"

Flora chose this moment to withdraw to the bathroom, allowing me to escape to my Lady's feet. She showed Her approval of this manoeuvre by gently tracing the path of my spine with Her toe. Flora returned shortly: if she was aware I'd gone she made no comment; merely went on with a long explanation of the unique way the Lady Jean treated her young slave.

I expect I'd fallen half asleep with the comforting weight of my Goddess's feet upon me, for I felt through my trance a sharp jab in my ribs from her toe.

"Almost time for bed, ladies!" She remarked. "Does anyone want a nightcap?"

The young lady declined with a yawn and, rubbing her eyes sleepily, made her excuses to the gathering and left for her bed.

Constance asked for Bourbon, and Flora for Scotch; my Lady, with Her usual exquisite taste preferred Armagnac. I was sent to fetch their drinks, of course, and took up my position kneeling by my Mistress's side while She sipped her brandy.

At last, when my eyelids were drooping with fatigue, they went to bed, my Mistress last as befitted Her duty as Hostess. But before She went She quizzed me on my understanding of my early morning duties. Satisfied with my answers, She bade me take the swill bucket and empty it into my trough in my cage, then to enter the cage myself, eat, and sleep. I need not, She said with Her customary kindness to me, replace my muzzle until I was remotely released in the morning.

In the dimly lit garage I found the cage door already raised. After emptying the swill into my trough I scrambled in. Seconds later the door was lowered and the light went off, leaving me to gulp down the mixture of scraps and leftovers in the warm, muggy darkness.

Wednesday.

At some time on that Tuesday night there was a thunderstorm, for I was roused from sleep by a blinding flash of lightning and a roll of thunder which shook the garage to its foundations. Instantly awake, I was concerned - not for myself, trapped in a steel cage - but for my Mistress; and that not because I believed She was in any physical danger, but that Her sleep may be disturbed by the storm. But the thunder and lightning lessened, and finally ceased as the storm moved away, leaving only the steady drumming of rain on the garage roof to lull me to sleep again.

I was sound asleep when the cage door rose (I imagined my Lady waking momentarily in Her soft bed to drowsily press the button on the remote to open it) and I scrambled out of the cage to take up my duties.

I entered the kitchen via the passage from the garage to collect the U.S. Mailbag with my Mistress's replies which I was to take and exchange for today's bag of Mail. Pausing to stare out of the window, I noticed how the trees were shaking in the wind and rain, so I took up a plastic bin liner and wrapped the mailbag in it to keep it dry before leaving the kitchen by the back door.

Placed ready in the porch I found the sandals that my Lady permitted me to wear outdoors, but I took another look at the weather conditions and decided to go out barefoot. I also remembered seeing an old raincoat left in the garage by one of the gardeners, and debated wearing it for a instant. But, after quickly dismissing the idea on the grounds that if my Lady had wished me to wear any clothes She would have given me some, I went out into the wind and rain and trotted naked along the wet grass verge to the Estate entrance, the bell on my collar tinkling madly as I ran.

At first I welcomed the chance to stretch my limbs, cramped by my night in the cage, but then the cold, the rain and the wind beating against my body made me very glad to reach the shelter of the wall encircling Ms Scally's property. After a brief pause to catch my breath, I opened the hatch to the outside world. Withdrawing from the plastic bag the old Mailbag, I exchanged it for the recently delivered one, and added the newspapers my Mistress had ordered. Then I faced the wild weather again and ran back to the house.

I was exhausted, my breath sobbing in my throat, the wet leather muzzle clinging to my face, when I returned. Placing the bag in the shelter of the back porch, I went off and showered. After cleaning and de-odourising myself carefully, I took the Mailbag and newspapers into the kitchen where I put them on the table. I fetched the swill bucket from the garage, washed it out, and put it under the sink ready for the day's scraps. Then I unloaded the dishwasher, put everything away, and knelt by Ms Scally's chair to wait patiently for Her to rise.

It seemed a long time before I heard the rush of water in the pipes which denoted Her shower. I rose instantly and set the coffee to percolating, switched on the oven in readiness for her breakfast, then knelt in position again in the grey light.

Some minutes passed, and my Goddess arrived. She turned on the lights, and to me, although I kept my eyes fixed firmly on the floor, Her entry was as if the sun had come out. She sat.

"Boy! Coffee!" She commanded.

I served Her at once, not forgetting to put on gloves, and knelt by Her side while She sipped Her coffee in silence. I could sense She was regarding me with approval.

"You really are a clever slave, Boy!" She said.

A wave of gratitude and euphoria swept over me, and I automatically bent my head towards Her feet, only to recoil with a whimper of disappointment when I remembered my muzzle. In any case, Her foorwear was unsuitable for licking; Her shoes were whispy silk creations of a vaguely Oriental pattern. So too was the thin silk gown She wore, and I contented myself with leaning towards Her as far as I dared to enjoy its feathery touch and to get a hint of Her fragrance.

My Lady continued to drink Her coffee, Her free hand ruffling absently through my hair. Finally She sighed with contentment.

"Boy! More coffee! And bring my breakfast when you have prepared it!"

I obeyed at once, bringing Her another cup of coffee, then placing two croissants to heat in the oven. I brought Oxford marmalade and set it before Her, and butter in a Wedgewood crock, with a silver knife wrapped in a spotless linen napkin. I waited by the oven until Her croissants were hot, then withdrew them with silver tongs and served them to Her on a Crown Derby plate, all the time in ecstasy at being near my Lady and being allowed to serve Her. She had been taking Her newspapers from their plastic wrappers which She'd thrown on the floor. I fetched over the waste paper basket and got down on all fours to retrieve them.

She read Her 'Wall Street Journal' as She ate; when She had finished She placed the papers to one side and went through Her mail, expertly shucking off the envelopes and extracting the contents which she scanned cursorily before decisively placing them in one of three piles. Obviously these denoted correspondence to be dealt with now, later, and to be thrown away, for this the pile, much the largest, She threw to the floor for me to dispose of.

It was 8.30 by the big kitchen clock when She finished and bade me fetch Her briefcase from the Small Dining Room where She had been working on the day before. She slid the chosen documents into the case, rose, and left the room without a word, confident in Her slave's knowledge of his immediate duties.

I cleared away the breakfast debris, watching wistfully as the few crusts of croissant Ms Scally had left uneaten fall into the swill bucket, stacked the dishwasher, and relaid the table in readiness for the young lady. Then I remembered my Lady's guests, and hesitated for a moment before reflecting that my Lady herself, or one of the other Women, would instruct me in this matter at the appropiate time. After folding the newspapers neatly and arranging them on the table, I emptied the waste paper into a trash bag and took it out to the porch ready to dispose of it later. Then I re-entered the warm kitchen to kneel by my Lady's sister's chair to wait for her to appear.

But only five minutes later my Goddess Herself came back. I could not see - for, as was only right and proper, I dare not lift my eyes to Her face - Her smile of approval, but this approval was in Her voice as She told me that Her sister and Her friends were wont to sleep late on bad weather days like this one, and because of the long wait for them I should get into the wire mesh cage against the back wall of the kitchen and stay there for their orders. She raised the cage door with Her remote, and I scrambled in. My Lady then went off, leaving me grateful for Her consideration in allowing me to lie on the soft paper pad covering the floor of the cage.

I lay down and mused sleepily on wherever it was my Lady went to in the house. I knew only of the Dining Rooms, the kitchen, the patio, and the garage where I was kept. The property was huge by my standards; there must also be at least four bedrooms, probably, as this was the U.S.A., each with its attendant bathroom. Then there would be Living Rooms, Lounges etc.; and, in California, a swimming pool, none of which I'd seen yet, if I ever did. But wherever my Mistress was She was silent, and only the faint hum of the electric motor in the cavernous refrigerator broke the quietness. Finally I dozed off.

I was woken from an uneasy sleep by the entrance of my lady's younger sister, unkempt in an old towelling robe, battered 'mules' on her feet. Pushing back her undressed hair from her forehead she peered about her for my presence.

"Ah! There you are, Boy!" she exclaimed. "That big sister of mine is far too good to you!........Out you come!" (and she pressed the button on her remote to raise my cage door) "Now..........get my breakfast!"

As I knelt by her chair while she ate, Constance and Flora, Ms Scally's friends, entered the kitchen, at which the young lady ordered me to lay two more places at the table. Neither had bothered over much with 'la toilette'; Flora was clad in a drab towelling dressing gown and slippers, Constance in a garish housecoat and flip-flops. They took their seats, and ordered coffee, over which they brooded and exchanged small talk while they adjusted to the new day. A little later Ms Scally's sister went off, after telling the others to command of me what they would like for breakfast. On her departure I took up my position by the chair of Flora, as the older and senior Woman.

After some minutes the coffee worked its daily magic upon them them.

"I do declare," said Flora, "that I could face some breakfast! Boy! Bacon, eggs, and toast!"

The less sturdy Constance visibly shuddered at her friend's choice.

"Orange juice and dry wholemeal toast, Boy!" she told me.

I hastened to obey them, making certain I was wearing my plastic gloves while I did so. While I worked, and during their meal, they discussed me as though I was invisible, something I bore without resentment.

"It's such a pity," sighed Constance. "I do SO wish Scally would sell him to me!"

"I think you'd have competition, dear!" her friend replied. "I'd buy him from her myself like a shot! That cute bell on his collar!"

"He's so incredibly well-trained - and in such a short time, too!"

The two Women continued to lament their hostess's refusal to sell her slave for some time, until the young lady returned to command me to fetch my leash and come with her.

She put me on my leash and took me into the garage where she tethered me while she put upon my back a leather apparatus resembling a large rucksack. Straps over my shoulders,a belt, and a chest strap held it in position. Then she led me to the rear of what appeared to be an enclosed, weather-proof, electric golf-cart, and tied my leash to a welded towing staple there. She entered the tiny vehicle and evidently used her remote, for the garage door rose to reveal the wind and rainswept drive outside. The cart began to move forward, and soon I was following it at a steady jog.

The weather was, if anything, worse than on my previous excursion for my Lady's mail; the wind was higher and the rain heavier; water and mud spurted from below my pounding feet, and spattered my legs. It was soon apparent that the entrance to Ms Scally's Estate was our destination, and it was there, under the cover of the arch which pierced the estate boundary wall, that we halted.

On the dry paving lay a large brown paper sack which the young lady, after telling me to "Kneel!" picked up and placed in the rucksack on my bent back. She tightened down the securing straps, after which she regained her seat in the electric cart, turned it, and drove back the way we'd come. She hadn't bothered to order me to rise, nor did she need to, for, as the cart gathered speed so I was forced to come to my feet and trot after it into the storm. My load was heavier than I would have thought after seeing the apparent ease with which Ms Scally's sister had handled it - she had my Lady's athlete's body - but it must have weighed forty pounds or more. As for its contents - I had no idea, of course; and no more need to know than any beast of burden.

We returned to the dry warmth of the garage at a fast pace; too fast for me, wet, cold and muddy as I was, and panting with exhaustion.

The young lady made me kneel, withdrew the sack which she dumped unceremoniusly in a corner, and removed my harness. Taking up my leash she led me out again through the door to the front porch. At the steep step outwards I was made to lie down as usual so that she could step up onto my body to gain the outside. The concrete was gritty and cold beneath my damp chest and belly as she put her weight onto them and my bones ached as I was ordered to rise.

Outside it was cold and damp, though the porch sheltered us from the rain.

I realised with a sinking feeling what was about to happen. Sure enough, she made me kneel, and removed my leash. Then:

"Boy! Into your box!" she commanded.

I obeyed, scrambling in as fast as I could. She may have detected some reluctance on my part, for she cut viciously at my rump as I wriggled into the narrow confines of the cage. The wooden end piece was lowered, leaving me in cold, dank darkness.

Cramped and uncomfortable as I was, I had fallen into a doze when the sounds of footsteps, and the familiar ring of my Lady's voice brought me wide awake.

"Clean shoes for departing guests!" I heard Her exclaim. Then: "You first, Flora!"

Her older friend's sensible, solid brogues appeared before me. I licked them clean and was given water. Then Constance's - altogether unsuitable for the weather - footwear; a pair of lacquered pumps was offered for my services. And then, the 'piece de resistance'; my Goddess's sturdy but chic all-leather brown shoes! I washed them thoroughly with my tongue; the soles - of Her's alone did I lick the soles - were slightly muddy, and I would not have them soil the carpet of Her SUV, if She was to use it. And She was, for after a few exchanges of the "See you tomorrow at the auction" type, I heard the distinctive smooth rumble of the SUV going off up the drive, leaving me alone.

I spent some time trying to moisten my mouth enough to swallow the grime my tongue had collected before I fell again into that half trance which I was becoming prone to doing in these conditions.

Some time later I woke, to be aware that the wind had died and the rain stopped. The sun must have come out too, for the once cold, clammy cage was becoming uncomfortably warm. And then I heard the sound of the returning SUV, and my heart leapt for joy. I heard the car stop; the door slam, and my Lady's quick, decisive footsteps as She came up onto the porch. But though I whimpered to attract Her attention She walked straight past me where I lay crouched in my cage, and it was only after some considerable time that She returned and opened the wooden door for me to wriggle out at Her command.

Her voice was solicitious as I knelt at Her feet, dazed with sleep and dazzled by the light.

"Poor thing!" she said. "We forgot all about you!...Come on, let's feed you!"

With that She clipped on my leash and led me to the entrance down into the garage where, at Her curt gesture, I lay down so She could step downwards via my back.

I stayed on all-fours as She led me over to where her sister had left the bag I'd carried here earlier. She bade me kneel, and put on my mitts before tethering me to a ring in the wall and removing my muzzle. Then She fetched from somewhere the battered plastic dogbowl, and splashed water into it. She left me for a moment to drink; when She returned She carried a spade with which She expertly split the paper sack longways in order to take up a small spadeful of its contents. This She placed in my now empty bowl before leaving me.

I looked dubiously at the contents of the bowl. A crumbly cake-like substance; mostly grey in colour, but speckled with yellow and brown patches, it smelt of nothing at all. I lowered my head to it hungrily and took a mouthful. It tasted of nothing too, and it was all the world like chewing damp cardboard. But it was easy to eat, and very soon I'd chomped down all of it.

My belly full, I knelt on the hard concrete and allowed my mind to wander. I glanced over at the paper sack and tried to decipher the printing upon it, upside down as the young lady had put it. I soon found out what it said. 'All purpose Animal Feed: Grade Four. For Pigs, Calves, and Chickens. Do not over-feed!' I wasn't in the least upset by this revelation, of course; Ms Scally had to feed me on something, and I suspected that She regarded their scraps and leftovers being insufficient for the amount of energy She was making me exert.

After a time, though in the unusual state of not being hungry, I was feeling the effects of my long imprisonment in the box and kneeling on the hard concrete floor was becoming increasingly painful. I was vastly relieved when my Lady appeared to take my leash, muzzle me, and lead me out onto the lawn in front of the patio. There She paused and spoke to her sister who sat at the table in the sunshine.

"I'll just take Fido for a walk - poor thing; it must have been awfully cramped in its box all that time!"

"OK, sis!" came the cheery reply. "I should still be here when you get back. You're dining out tonight, aren't you?"

"Yes, with Sophie and Donald. What shall you do?"

"I dunno.........order a pizza or something, I expect!"

My Goddess was still laughing tolerantly as She led me off.

Across the lawn we went, and into the shade of a path through the woods, slowing often, and stopping occasionally for my Mistress to examine some plant or other. This gave me the opportunity to work out how She would want me to behave when She was walking me; with the following results.

When we were stationary my default position was on all-fours with my head level with Her near leg, and my eyes fixed on Her foot to warn me should She move off. I aimed at being already moving in the direction She wanted me to go before Her tug on my leash reached my collar. If we were to be stopped for any length of time She would make me kneel, my front paws before my knees, my haunches resting upon my heels. This She conveyed to me by, at first, the command 'Sit!' accompanied by an upward tug on the leash and a cut from Her whip on my rump. But we progressed to just the command and the blow, and finally I needed just the flick on my rump to take up position. (She taught me to answer to Her whip in taking up other positions too; very soon I learnt that a cut in the middle of my back meant 'Lie Down!' and a flick on the shoulder, before She was to move off, meant 'Come!' Quite quickly She needed no verbal commands at all to control my movements, merely the use of Her whip; as for me, I prided myself on Her not having to exert Herself to tug my leash; I came to know the exact length of slack in the leash at any time and the precise position of Her hand holding it in relation to my collar).

So it was we proceded, the bell on my collar tinkling faintly, through patches of sunlight and cool shadow in the warm air, the air revitalised by the past storm. I was frankly enjoying our excursion, mainly due to the immense feeling of security I had when Ms Scally held me leashed. I delighted in Her sure and gentle guidance and control, and would even occasionally go so far as to deliberately fail to respond so that I could feel Her reassuring tug at my collar.

We'd covered some distance, and perhaps my kindly Mistress thought I was getting tired in the arms, for She increased Her pace in order that I had to come upright to keep up. And She may have meant to see what I would do when She slowed again. I didn't disappoint Her; when She slowed enough for me to keep my place on all-fours I fell to that position; when we stopped I did likewise. Finally we fetched up at the Summerhouse, where my Lady tethered me in the shade before She got Herself a drink and sat at the table to read.

The sun was low in the sky when She led me back in the cool lengthening shadows. When we reached the front porch She put me in my box again, something I accepted quite cheerfully. My Lady was going to change to go out and dine; Her shoes must be thoroughly clean for this occasion.

And so it was to prove; after I'd lovingly licked Her shoes, paying particular attention to the smooth soles, I heard Her drive off to Her dinner appointment.

Sometime later the young lady came to my box; I heard her talking on her mibile telephone.

"Yes, with anchovies.......In half an hour?......Yes, leave it in the hatch!"

She released me, put on my leash, and led me into the garage with the usual necessity of my prostrating myself in order to save her the long step down. There she harnessed me to my cart. I co-operated quite docilely with her, allowing her to bend up my arms behind my back for the arm-binder, and opening my mouth for her to insert the bit after she'd taken off my muzzle.

She took her seat and flicked me into motion through the twilight. I enjoyed the run, though her touch on the reins was heavier than her Sister's, and her use of the whip much more frequent, and I was almost sorry when we reached the Estate entrance.

There she dismounted to retrieve her pizza from the hatch. On mounting again she whipped me back to the house as fast as I could run, no doubt to prevent her pizza getting cold too quickly. On the lawn in front of the patio she tethered me to a rail before going off into the kitchen to eat.

A long time later, in full darkness relieved only by the soft lights of the patio, she returned. She untied me, I heard the cart creak as she mounted, and she tugged my head round and flicked me on the rump to start me moving across the lawn and into the blackness of the path. I was worried about being able to see my way, and indeed we had some near misses, much to her anger. It was my fault, of course; as her draught animal I should never question her judgement in which way to go; my place was merely to obey the varying pressures on my bit. (My Lady Herself was to cure me of this habit later in my stay). What with the distance we covered, and the painful way the young lady took out her frustration with her whip, I was very glad to be halted at the garage entrance just as my Lady returned.

"Taken him for a run, little sister?" She enquired with a smile.

"Sort of," came the reply. "But the goddam thing's shy in the dark - when it's not sure of its path!"

"Oh dear! Of course! It's my fault, dear; I haven't trained it to that yet. I'll break it into running blind later, I promise! I know how you enjoy your evening rides."

"Thanks a lot!" Her mollified sister replied. "You want your shoes cleaning?"

Ms Scally considered.

"No.......not tonight. Just put it away; and feed and water it for me."

"OK, Sis!.....Come on, Muffin!"

She led me into the garage, removed my bridle and bit, unharnessed me and then led me to my cage. She waited while I sucked down the water she gave me, then poured a shovelful of the Animal Feed into my trough. She waited while I ate that too; before muzzling me and leaving, switching off the lights behind her.

As I prepared for sleep, I was as happy as I'd ever been in my life. What though they kept me as an animal, naked, collared, and muzzled in a cage? I had a full belly for the second time that day, and much more important, I knew that my Goddess occasionally thought about me and considered my welfare. That alone was reward enough for anything they inflicted on me.

THURSDAY

The clear skies of yesterday afternoon and evening caused the temperature to drop considerably overnight. I woke shivering, and waited impatiently for my Mistress, in Her warm, soft bed, to wake also, and to raise by remote control the door of my cage so that I could go about my morning duties.

At last She did so - I imagined Her slender finger drowsily pressing the button before She drifted back into Her scented slumber; did She think of me at this moment? - I scrambled out of my cage and went from the garage into the yard behind. There, in the kitchen porch, I found the U.S Mail bag of Wednesday hanging from its hook. It was heavy with computer discs and paperwork; my Mistress had evidently done a great deal of work yesterday. I slung it over my shoulder and trotted off, casting a wistful glance at the outside tap as I passed it. But, thirsty though I was, I could not take off my muzzle to drink without a Woman's permission.

Returning invigorated by my brisk run through the cold dawn air, I showered thoroughly and used the animal deodorant as usual before placing Ms Howard's post and newspapers on the kitchen table, emptying the dishwasher and putting away its contents, and taking my usual position kneeling at the side of Her chair.

It was six by the kitchen clock then; at half past the hour I heard the faint sounds of my Lady's preparations for the new day. I switched on the coffee percolator and the oven to prepare for Her breakfast.

My Goddess made Her appearance ten minutes later, immaculate in a tan silk dressing gown and thin silk slippers of the same hue. (I regarded the latter sadly; I knew She would never allow me to lick those!) She took Her seat, the soft fabric of Her gown brushing my shoulder, a waft of Her fresh-from-the-shower fragrance reaching my eager nostrils. Then: "Boy! Coffee!"

I sprang to do Her bidding; afterwards, while She sipped Her drink and efficiently sorted Her mail, I did my usual duty with the waste paper basket, retrieving from the floor the material She casually threw down there. Finishing, She rose and left me without a word. I cleared the table, re-laid it, and knelt by the young lady's chair to await her arrival.

At eight-thirty she made her usual dishevelled entry, in her customary over-long Tee shirt with scanty lace 'panties' below and her battered old trainers on her feet. I served her as she commanded, then, when she too had finished and left, I cleared away and loaded the dishwasher. My immediate duties at an end, I left the kitchen to kneel upon the scrap of carpet out on the porch and waited patiently for one of the Women to instruct me further.

The young lady turned up after a while to feed and water me, after which I took up my position again.

The sound of my Lady's voice brought me from my usual reverie.

"I think we should leave about nine o'clock for Dolly's. That will give us a chance to have a sneak preview of this slave that's for sale."

"Are we meeting Constance and Flora there?" enquired Her sister.

"Oh yes! Wild horses wouldn't keep them away!"

"What about Boy? Are you taking him in slave mode?"

"Indeed I am. He shall wait upon us there!"

"Big sister; I do believe you are looking forward to showing him off!"

"Well, dear; if you've got it, flaunt it; as they say! But that remind me. Boy!" My My Lady's clear voice rang out. "Answer!"

"Yes, Mistress!" I replied promptly.

"Clean and deodorize yourself well. Put your leash, your muzzle and your sandals, and put a can of deodorant into the back of my car, then get into your box. You may have fifteen minutes. Answer!"

"Yes, Mistress!" I called back, full of joy that my Goddess had condescended to speak to me. As I left I heard Her say to Her sister: "I shall go and change - and so shall you, little sister; you cannot possibly go with me dressed like that!"

The young lady's response went unheard by me, for I was already in the shower soaping myself furiously. In much less than the allotted time I'd carried out my Lady's orders and was crouched in the dark, tiny box awaiting Her arrival; nor was I to wait long, for I soon heard the clack of leather heels on the paving of the porch approaching me.

But, to my surprise, it was not my Mistress who placed her foot below my mouth, but Her sister, properly shod for one of the few times in her young life. The shoes were old but well-kept, and a little too big for her. Obviously, they were an old pair of my Lady's, and the thought made licking them more enjoyable. They were immediately replaced by the slender feet of Ms Howard Herself; as always I took special care with them, fearful that an excess of my saliva might stain them; as always I licked the soles too. Afterwards I was given me a little water to moisten my mouth, then Ms Howard spoke.

"Boy! Come out of your box and get into your cage in the back of my car!"

I leapt to obey Her command, noticing that they were already sauntering after me.

Once settled on the thick paper mat in my cage, they got into the SUV and Ms Howard drove off. As before, I could see nothing of our progress, my view being hindered by the sides of the car and the backs of the seats, but I could hear their conversation over the smooth purr of the engine as Ms Howard left Her Estate and turned onto the public highway.

"Have you given Boy any instructions on how to behave in public, Sis?"

"Not at all! He will know how!" Came the reply.

"And if he doesn't?" Came the sly query.

"I have my whip!" My Mistress said meaningfully.

But I was not perturbed; I had found Her a kindly Owner, and I was confident in my ability to serve Her to Her satisfaction on this excursion. Then She raised the glass partition between us and I fell asleep.

It must have been a considerable distance to our destination, for we stopped en route for them to take coffee, (not at a 'Starbucks', for my Lady would not be seen dead in anywhere so proletarian) but at a select coffee-house known only to the connoisseurs of that beverage. I pressed my back against the roof of the cage to see out, but, as usual, could only see the tops of the highest vehicles. I could see people passing to and fro, but the darkened glass prevented their seeing in.

The two sisters returned, and we resumed our journey. I stayed awake, lying on the floor of my cage, rehearsing my prospective role at this function.

Presntly we turned off the road onto a smooth tar-macadamed surface and stopped. But only for a moment; we very soon drove slowly onward, and I presumed the halt had been at some sort of Gate-keeper's Lodge at the entrance to Ms Howard's friend's property. We came to our final stop, the Women alighted, Ms Howard raised the rear door of the car and the door of my cage and ordered me out.

"Put on your sandals," She commanded. Then: "Kneel!"

She leashed me with Her own cool, deft fingers. She tugged gently on my leash, and I stood upright immediately, earning a faint smile of approval from Her at my instinctive awareness that it was my 'slave role' She wanted me to adopt.

"Take our hand-bags!" She ordered, and She and Her sister strolled off; I taking up the natural slave position at the side of my Mistress, half a step behind Her.

On our short journey I had the leisure to observe my surroundings. We had pulled up on a large paved space before the enormous porch of a mansion in the fake Palladian manner. It reminded me of Chatsworth on a smaller style, and so did its setting, for it was placed among a very good imitation of English parkland, with scattered trees standing in short turf. We mounted the flight of broad marble step to the massive oak door, only for it to open as we reached the wide final step before the entrance.

Although I had my eyes fixed on the ground, I could see the bottom of the door-warden's pin-striped trousers and his brightly polished black shoes. His welcome confirmed my impression.

"Ah, Ms Howard!" in perfect REP - a genuine English butler!

"Ah, Wilkins!" responded my Lady, with a certain amount of spirit, and in an immaculate 'Oxbridge' drawl.

(I was to learn that She and Wilkins were old, and mutually respectful, adversaries. They had had many a tussle about this and that, with more or less equal results, but always conducted with the ultimate in decorum. They admired each other, I suspect, my Lady for Wilkins' icy politeness in opposition; he for Her grace in victory or defeat).

"The young lady is Milady's sister, no doubt?" he went on.

"Correct as always, Wilkins; and this is my slave, Boy!"

I could feel, even if I could not see, his stare of disapproval. He spoke:

"No doubt Milady will not be aware of my Mistress's instructions regarding the slaves of her guests?"

"Very perspicacious of you, Wilkins; as my many talents do not include mind-reading!" She purred sarcastically.

The Butler was unruffled. Favouring my Lady with a wintry smile, he went on.

"They are that the male slaves of guests are not to be naked; they are to wear a minimum of a 'thong' " - he uttered the word with distaste - "and they are to be kept leashed at all times!"

My Lady tapped a slender foot upon the marble floor.

"It does not seem to me," She began in a soft but dangerous voice, "that the manner in which I require my slaves to appear in public, and the duties I wish them to perform, are the concern of anyone but myself!"

"Indubitably, Milady," Wilkins riposted, "in normal circumstances. But as a guest of my Mistress, perhaps Milady may consider that following her Hostess's wishes would seem to be comme il faut in the circumstances?"

My Lady conceded defeat; I felt the radiance of Her sudden smile as She replied.

"Game, set, and match to you, I think; Wilkins! But it is a pity he shall wait not upon me"

The Butler gave her a deep bow.

"Milady is gracious!" he said. "And Milady will find herself served entirely to her satisfaction."

"And now - if you don't intend to keep us chattering on the doorstep all day - take us to your Mistress at once! And stable my slave until I require him!"

She tossed him the end of my leash. He caught it deftly as he replied.

"As Milady wishes. If the ladies would care to follow John" - indicating a dark-suited footman - "I shall see that Milady's slave is put away."

The sisters entered the house and went off behind their guide. Wilkins called out sharply.

"Mathilde!"

A pretty young maid came swiftly and silently.

"Take this slave and put it away!"

"Vair good, Meester Wilkin'!" she replied with a shallow curtsey.

She took my proffered leash and led me off. I went with her meekly; it was, after all, the wish of my Lady and, beside that, 'Mathilde' was a Woman, and my Mistress had sufficiently conditioned me by then into an automatic obedience to any Woman.

I was led around the house, out of the warm sunlight and into a shady courtyard. Various expensive cars were being washed and cleaned by coveralled servants. They paid no attention to me being led naked through their midst, only a few appreciative whistles at Mathilde accompanied our progress. Past the covered bays for the cars we went, and into another, larger yard on one side of which, in deep shade, was a row of four large cages into one of which I was led. I knelt for my leash to be removed; Mathilde tossed a 'thong' at me, then left, locking the cage door behind her.

I put on the skimpy thong and examined my new environment. The cage was about eight feet long by six feet wide and seven feet high; its floor was covered by an old, but still soft and luxurious, carpet: a small wooden stool, a commode, and a metal cup chained to one the bars completed its furnishings. Very civilised accomodation by my recent standards; but then I was a slave, not an animal, for the time being. The cage on my right was empty; the two cages on my left contained occupants. Immediately next to me a slave sat cross-legged upon the carpet; from a previous description this must have been 'Puss', for he was olive skinned and very young. His only dress was a bright red collar, and a tiny thong of the same colour, similiar to mine, - though why the thong I couldn't imagine, as from what I'd heard he no longer possessed anything below it to embarrass any casual spectators. He glanced at me, but otherwise ignored me.

In the far cage a young girl stood, her small hands gripping the bars. She was tiny, with short black hair and olive skin, and dressed in a short, armless, white linen shift which came down to her mid-thighs: that, apart from her collar, was her sole attire. Even from that distance I could sense her sadness. She, of course, was the slave 'Moth'; the slave her Owner and Trainer meant to auction that very afternoon. Watching her I began to realise what it must be like to sold away from everyone and everything one had ever known; to be taken off like a piece of furniture to a destination no-one even thinks of telling you; to be someone else's property disposable at their whim, and, thanks to one's circumscribed upbringing, not even able to guess that this is anything unusual. A cold shiver swept over me as I thought of the possibility of my Mistress selling me at some time in the future. I didn't think She would - She had ample funds - but She could; and, thanks to the docility She had reduced me to docility so easily and thoroughly, there would be nothing I could do but accept it and go meekly off with my new Owner.

This gloomy train of thought was interrupted by the appearance of five Women, at which Puss rose and rushed to the bars of his cage, while Moth held out her thin arms in silent entreaty.

The Women were Ms Howard Herself, Her sister, a stout elderly lady unsuitably clad in a colourful sarong, and a tall, spare lady in her 40's. The fifth was a maid; not Mathilde, but an older Woman. The maid, who was first to arrive at our cages, picked up a spouted bucket and splashed water into the chained cups which Puss and Moth held out through the bars. When she came to me she hesitated, noticing my muzzle.

But: "Boy!" came the voice of Ms Howard; "take off your muzzle and drink! Then replace your muzzle!"

Blessing my Lady's kindness to me, I did as She told me, gulping down the warm, flat water eagerly. The maid curstsied to the older Woman, evidently her Mistress and our Hostess Dolly, before taking her self off. The four Women examined me critically through the bars as I re-muzzled myself.

"Well trained, Howard!" Dolly drawled. "What do you think, Zenobia?"

"You've done an excellent job in such a short time, Howard," Zenobia, the tall, thin Woman, remarked, a touch of envy in her voice.

"Oh, nonsense!" laughed my Mistress. "The secret is all in the initial selection. I knew I'd tamed him five seconds after we first spoke!"

"Perhaps!" came the curt reply as the Women sauntered off to examine the other slaves. Left alone, and not fancying the hardness of the tiny stool, I lay on the carpeted floor with my head propped on my hands and watched their progress. I could hear them quite clearly in the still, warm air as they paused before Puss's cage and discussed its inmate.

"A wonder that Jean could bear to leave him long enough to have her lunch!" said Dolly. Puss meanwhile, was standing as close as the bars between them permitted to his former Owner Zenobia, weeping silently. She made a complicated gesture, and he obediantly perched himself on his stool and looked at her beseechingly, the tears still streaming down his cheeks.

"I'm sorry, dear," she said in a soft, soothing voice, "but I'm not your Mistress any more. Jean owns you now, and I'm sure she looks after you!"

She turned away from the cage and blew her nose. Her friends regarded her sympathetically. Her voice was breaking as she spoke.

"Oh, I hate these moments!" she exclaimed passionately. "I hate parting with my slaves after I've had them from tiny babies! But they get used to it in the end - and so must I!"

Subdued by this display of emotion, they stopped before the girl-slave's cage. She and her Mistress hugged each other throught the bars for a long minute before Zenobia gently disengaged herself and stepped back out of Moth's reach.

"Does she know she's to be sold this afternoon?" enquired Ms Howard, curiously.

"I always do my best to explain to them what's to become of them, but it's very difficult. They have no notion at all of property, never owning anything themselves. I do my best, but it's impossible to get through to them by our simple sign language."

"What does she think is happening to her, then?" the young lady asked.

"Oh!....She knows that I'm going away, and that she's to go with another Mistress, and that she's to obey her, but that's all I can get her to understand, poor thing!"

"Come on; let's go!" broke in their Hostess. "I want a cool drink before the viewing!"

And off they went, leaving us in our cages in the deserted yard. Moth sat disconsolately upon her stool, while Puss had lain down on the floor of his cage and fallen asleep; an example I lost no time in imitating.

I couldn't quite succeed in sleeping, and instead lay blinking drowsily at the view of the yard through the bars. I was hungry, but I dismissed the feeling; I would be fed when She had time to think about it, and not before.

The appearance of Mathilde broke this train of thought; tripping lightly across the yard up to our cages. She carried two long leashes, one of them of bright red leather. She opened and entered Puss's cage where he knelt to allow her to clip the red leash to his collar. At a tug on his leash he rose and followed her out. She opened my cage door; I received her in the same manner, and soon Puss and I were walking out of the yard behind her, our leashes held loosely in the housemaid's hand, as docilely as two haltered beasts, leaving poor 'Moth' staring after us throught the bars of her cage.

As I walked along, my eyes cast down as I'd been taught, I had little sense of our surroundings until we came out onto a broad grassy space dominated by an enormous tree whose wide branches supplied ample shade for the scattered tables and chairs at which several people sat, and for the low, white-painted platform at the rough centre of the grouping.

Mathilde led us over the clipped turf, stopping us close to a group clustered around a broad circular wicker table. There, cool and elegant on Her wicker recliner, was my Goddess, chatting amicably with the company. With a swift glance I noted the others. The young lady was there, of course; Constance and Flora, Zenobia the slave trainer, and a short, dark Woman with cropped black hair, evidently Jean, 'Puss's' Owner, for Mathilde handed her his leash, and he fell to his knees at her side to nuzzle her hand in welcome.

My leash she handed to my Mistress, who took it languidly without so much as looking at me. Instead She gestured me to kneel, and She ran her hand absently through my hair as She continued their conversation.

Zenobia was about to leave them.

"I'll have to go now, and take Moth around those who have expressed an interest before the bidding starts," she said. "Do any of you ladies intend to bid?"

The young lady looked excited, but subsided after a frosty glance from her Sister. Flora expressed an interest; Constance likewise, but more dubiously; Ms Howard said nothing; and Zenobia departed.

"Such a bore our slaves must be kept leashed, and unable to wait upon us," my Lady remarked lazily to the other slave owner at the table.

"I could not believe of Dolly!" exclaimed the other, in a 'Down Easter' twang. "Why, the very idea! My poor Puss to be kept tied like a dog - and I so love to see him run about my grounds!"

Her slave was on all fours at her feet; she ran her hand down his spine, and he arched his back like a cat to accept her caress.

"Poor Puss!" said my Mistress, a trifle sardonically. "Boy enjoys being on MY leash; don't you, Boy?"

In enthusiastic agreement I rolled over on my back before Her, inviting Her to place Her shoes upon my chest and belly and quivered in ecstacy at the sharp digs of Her tall, narrow heels in my flesh and the sandpapery feeling of Her leather soles on my skin. My Lady was both amused and, perhaps, a little touched by this display of instant devotion. She placed the heel of Her left shoe at the base of my throat and pressed down gently while I lay trustingly prone at Her feet.

The conversation continued.

"What happens now?" asked the young lady of no-one in particular.

"Oh, Zenobia will lead her slave around the bidders. They'll be able to examine her, and talk to her via Zenobia. And they'll want to see various documents, medical certificates of health, etc. It will be just like buying a horse." said Flora.

"She's over there now; we must be next!" remarked Constance.

Sure enough, only a few minutes later, Zenobia fetched up at our table with the leashed Moth following demurely. I rolled over to face them, my Mistress's shoes digging into my ribs as I did so. Moth was now naked, the better to show her off, her thin childish body in sunlight as she stood patiently by the side of her Owner.

"Well; Flora.........Constance?.........What do you think of her?.......Any questions?"

Thus Zenobia, taking a seat and signalling 'Moth' to kneel at her feet.

"May I see her medical records?" asked Flora. "Ah!.....Thank you, dear!"

As she perused the various papers, her friend asked Zenobia what living conditions her slave was accustomed to.

"She has a small room of her own now. No bed; she sleeps on the floor. I do allow her a blanket though when it's a little cold at night, but she can manage without it. She has a commode there, and there's also a small shower niche. The door to her room is self-locking, and I've trained her to go and lock herself in on command when I have to leave her for any length of time.As for clothes - well, that would be up to her new owner. I keep her naked; of course she never leaves the house or its immediate grounds"

"These commands you give her," queried Ms Howard's practical younger sister; "how do you make her understand them? I've been told you had her made deaf in her early childhood - and dumb, too!"

"And so I did, my dear!" Zenobia replied. "I do that to all my slaves as soon as I get them. Then I teach them a simple code based on various hand signals."

"But, if they're deaf, how do you attract their attention in the first place?"

"Well, most of the time their attention is fixed on me, as it would be onto their new Owner. For instance, Puss....." Here she broke off with a smile, for Puss, proving the exception to the rule, was seen to be on all fours, straining on his leash just like a dog to get to Moth whom he recognised as his old acquaintance from his days with his Trainer. Just as with a dog, his Mistress pulled him back hard and signed him sharply to lie down.

The other Women laughed indulgently, but Zenobia pointed to Moth's fixed attention on her face and hands.

"And also," Zenobia went on, "if she's not giving me her attention, or if she's out of sight....." (She made a sign, and Moth went down onto all-fours, turning her back on her Mistress)........Here, at the base of her neck, you may see a tiny swelling. That's made by the surgical insertion of a small buzzer energised by this high frequency whistle I advise Owners to carry. I'll demonstrate it for you."

She raised the slim silver whistle to her lips, and blew. The effect on her slave was almost comical: she turned at once to her Mistress, mute enquiry in her eyes. Zenobia made a sign, at which Moth immediately scrambled over to her and sat upright by her side.

Fondling her slave's hair, Zenobia said "See? Now she won't take her eyes off me, waiting for another command."

The Women expressed their appreciation, and Flora intimated she would definitely be taking part in the bidding. Constance, too, seemed more enthusiastic than formerly.

Zenobia then took her leave, to continue to circulate amongst those interested in buying her slave. Flora signalled a hovering maid for more drinks, but Ms Howard, Her active mind and body needing diversion, rose lithely to Her feet in one flowing motion.

"I think I'll go for a walk," She remarked. "Coming, little sister?"

But the young lady had settled deep in her chair, her eyes closed and her feet on the sleeping Puss's flank. Ms Howard smiled and turned away.

"Come, Boy!"

I scrambled eagerly to my feet and took up my slave's position by Her side as She made Her way across the lawn and into the surrounding woodland. The paths were wide and shady; others of the gathering were taking strolls too, and my Lady exchanged greetings with them as we met. The leash was six feet long, much longer than my normal leash, which meant I was not constrained to walk as close to my Mistress as normally. But I followed Her in my usual position, close behind and to the right, bent at the knees and thighs just a little lest I commit the unforgiveable sin of raising my head level with that of my Mistress, the unaccustomed extra length of thin leather draped down my chest and looping across my thigh. Then, to my delight, the longer leash afforded me an opportunity to serve my Goddess in an unlooked for way.

Two others had joined us in our stroll. The three Women, talking desultorily, were walking abreast along the path when, in front of them, I spotted a small puddle. It was not very large - aboout six inches wide - but it was directly in my Lady's path. I didn't wait to learn what She intended to do on reaching it, but, thanks to the length of my leash, I was able to quickly move around and in front of Her and prostrate my body in the puddle to enable Her to cross dry shod. So good was my timing that She didn't even have to break Her stride, merely place Her foot in the small of my back and continue Her progress while I rose hastily and went back to my place, mud and water streaming down my chest and belly.

No comment on my deed was made by anyone; their talk went on undisturbed. My Lady, of course, took my action on Her behalf as completely expected of me. But I felt Her semse of approval, and my heart leapt with joy.

The others turned off and left us. My Lady hailed a passing servant.

"Take my slave and get him washed down, if you please. Then bring him back to me at my table!"

The maid bobbed a curtsey, and took the proffered leash from my Owner. Ms Howard turned away, and the maid led me off into the courtyard where the cages stood. There she indicated a pump and a bucket, then stood by holding my leash while I pumped water and washed myself down. When she led me back, I found my Lady already in Her chair, and the auction about to start.

To scattered applause from the spectators their hostess Dolly, her butler Wilkins, Zenobia and Moth mounted the low platform and faced them. The stout, bustling Dolly spoke.

"We are ready to commence. Wilkins will act as auctioneer. Please make all bids in multiples of ten thousand dollars."

She stepped back to allow Wilkins prominence and he began, his clipped voice easily filling the area.

"My ladies.....Who will open the bidding for this slave?.....Do I hear one hundred?.....Thank you, Madam.......One hundred I am bid....."

The young lady whispered to her sister.

"One lousy hundred?"

"One hundred thousand dollars, dear!"

"One hundred and twenty.......one hundred and fifty..." Wilkins intoned.

Flora gestured at him.

"One hundred and seventy-five.....Two hundred......"

Flora leaned forward in her seat and gestured again.

"Two hundred and twenty-five........" He paused for a long moment.

"Two hundred and fifty from the lady on my right!"

My Lady's elderly friend sat back in defeat, her mouth pinched.

"Going.....going........gone! Sold to the lady over there for two hundred and fifty thousand dollars!.......If you would step this way, Madam!"

A large fair lady 'd'un age certaine' came forward and took Moth's leash from Zenobia. The three stood together for a few minutes, Zenobia talking to the lady, and signing emphatically to Moth before the latter went off with her new Owner. Zenobia, her shoulders slumped in sorrow, left the scene.

"Not very dramatic!" remarked the young lady.

"No!" agreed her Sister, drily. "Shall we go now?"

On receiving Her sibling's acquiesence, Ms Howard made Her adieus to Her friends and the sisters walked back to their Hostess's house to bid her goodbye. This done, my Lady turned to Her car, which Wilkins had had cleaned and brought round for Her convenience. He himself stood attentively by the driver's door, ready to open it for my Lady.

She raised the tailgate remotely and ordered me into my cage before approaching the Butler.

"Ah, Wilkins!" She greeted him.

"Ms Howard!" he bowed stiffly. "I trust Milady enjoyed herself?"

"Indeed I did, Wilkins! And the service was impeccable - as always!"

"One endeavours to give satisfaction, Milady!" he murmured as he held open the car door and ushered Her into the driving seat.

"Quite so, my good man!......Goodbye!"

With this parting shot She drove off. We had cleared the Lodge gates and were on the open road before Her sister spoke.

"What's with all this 'Milady' jazz, big sister?" she asked in puzzlement.

Ms Howard laughed.

"Oh! That's all Wilkins' doing! He has found out that I'm the legitimate heiress to the presently defunct Earldom of Shaftesbury in England - should I care to claim it. He thinks I should, and take up my seat in the House of Lords. He takes a dim view of the Aristocracy 'letting the side down' as he puts it!"

"Wow!" exclaimed Her sister, deeply impressed - as well she might be. "Would you have to become a Brit if you did?"

"Oddy enough, no. I would have to swear my personal allegiance to the reigning Monarch though - something our Constitution is just a little negative on!"

At that She raised the dividing partition, preventing me from overhearing any further exchanges on the subject.

I fell asleep in my cage, wakening only when the car pulled up at Ms Howard's front door. There I was ordered out, unmuzzled, and put into my box to clean their shoes.

I was left there quite a long time - my Mistress evidently had more important things to do, or She just couldn't be bothered to release me - something I had to put up with as best I could.

When She finally came to me it was dark and cold. She commanded me to clean myself, and to wait for Her, muzzled, on my scrap of carpet outside the kitchen door. I did so, taking the opportunity of drinking from the shower. She appeared after only a brief interval, carrying my mitts which She locked onto my wrists as I knelt before Her. I was to be in 'dog' mode then, and it was as 'Fido' that She addressed me when She told me to 'Heel!' I padded behind Her on all-fours, the bell on my collar tinkling softly, into the kitchen. She had evidently dined already, for the savoury smells of Her repast made me salivate with hunger as She led the way into the corridor which led to the Dining Rooms. She passed them by, to arrive at and open a wide door into a booklined room with large draped French doors in one wall, and a large desk on which stood several telephones, a computer, and other electronic gear associated with it. This was Her Study, or Workplace when She was at home, and, after She'd taken Her place at the desk, I wriggled into the large kneehole space below it and lay down, Her small, slipper-clad feet automatically coming to rest upon my flank.

I fell into a vacant sort of trance, thinking of nothing but the comfortable feeling of the thick carpet beneath me, and the entirely right and proper pressure of my Goddess's shoes on my body: even my hunger was forgotten. Above me papers slid and flicked, and computer keys clicked as She went efficiently through her work, the silence broken only by Her occasional sighs or exclamations of impatience.

Finally She seemed to have finished, for She stood, stretched, and, without a word, walked from the room. I scrambled out from below the desk and ran after Her, following Her back along the corridor and into another room unfamiliar to me. This turned out to be a small Sitting Room, tastefully and comfortable furnished with pleasantly worn old armchairs, a sofa, bookshelves, and even a small, rarely used, Television set, while a log fire glowed and flickered in an exquisite Adams fireplace. She completely ignored me, though She must have been aware of my presence. After closing the dor behind us, She took down a book, sat in a wing-backed armchair, and began to read. I glanced at the wide, soft expanse of the sofa, but decided regretfully against jumping up onto it; by then I'd a pretty good idea of my Lady's views on allowing 'dogs' to lie on the furniture. Instead, I went over and sat by Her chair, where I leant my head on Her knee. Without raising Her eyes from Her book, She lowered a slim, cool hand onto my head and absently ruffled Her fingers through my hair, causing me to squirm with pleasure, for She had neglected to put on the plastic gloves She had hitherto worn whenever She touched me. But She soon tired of this, pushing my head gently from Her knee, and took up a perfumed tissue from a box on a side table to to clean Her hand. I then lay at Her feet, on the hearthrug before the fire. She put Her feet upon me and continued to read.

I lay unmoving, staring at the flames; then, as the logs burnt away, at their glowing embers. At last She closed Her book and rose to her feet. She looked at the slim Cartier watch on Her wrist, then glanced down at me.

"Heel, Fido!" She said curtly, opening the door and leading us down the corridor and through the kitchen, out of the Front Door into the freezing night air. She led the way to the door into the garage, taking the long way round on the grass so that the sharp gravel of the drive should not cut my unprotected knees. There She opened the door and pointed downwards. I scurried past Her to lie on my belly on the cold concrete below the high step downwards. Again I felt Her weight upon me, crushing my chest into the floor, before She raised the door of my cage and ushered me in, closing the door behind me.

She had taken a few steps on Her way out when She uttered an exclamation and turned back to reach through the bars and remove my muzzle. There was water in my trough, and I lapped it up avidly. Meanwhile She took up a shovel-full of Animal Feed and poured it into the trough just as I finished drinking. About to turn away, She clicked Her fingers in sudden remembrance and, moving around my cage, She slid back a loeuvred metal grill in the wall causing a flood of welcome warm air to wash over me.

Then She DID leave me, putting off the lights behind Her, leaving me warm and with a full belly, to lie down on the soft pad to sleep, filled with gratitude for Her kindness.

#

FRIDAY

The garage had cooled down during the night as the cental heating went off, but a welcome flow of warm air was washing over me when the cage door rose to release me that morning. I scrambled out at once, and went out into the backyard to begin my daily duties. The Mailbag hung on its hook by the kitchen door as usual, but I found, when I went to take it down, that I was still wearing my mitts as my Mistress hadn't taken me out of my role as Her dog the previous night. But I managed to remove it somehow, and set off at an easy trot to the Estate entrance, the Mailbag's strap slung over my shoulder. Dawn was just breaking, and the air was freezing, encouraging me to run at my full speed to warm up.

When I arrived at my destination, panting and out of breath, I realized that I was going to have problems opening the door to the small hatch wearing mitts. I could turn the handle, and the door would open a fraction, but then my 'paws' would slip and the spring-loaded door would close again. In the end I managed by picking up a stick in my teeth and wedging it in the gap between the door and its frame, using it to enlarge the gap enough for me to insert a 'paw' and open it fully. I exchanged the Mailbags without difficulty, but then found it impossible to pick up Ms Howards newspapers, in their plastic wrapper, with my paws. Fearing Her anger if I returned without them I almost panicked until I realized that I could pick them up and carry them back in my mouth.

So it was that I began my return journey, the Mailbag over my shoulder, and the plastic package of newspapers in my mouth. It took a long time to return, the slick plastic slipping in my mouth so that several times I was obliged to stop, set it down on the ground, and manoeuvre my mouth around it to get a better grip; also the weight of package tired my neck and jaws. I sat in exhaustion for several minutes on the scrap of carpet by the kitchen door before I busied myself trying to open the door in order to place my Lady's mail and papers by Her place at the table. But it was impossible to gain entrance; and I had to content myself with hanging up the Mailbag and setting the newspapers down on the doormat. Then I sat shivering in the cold air, waiting for my Mistress to rise and come down, and hoping She would not be too angry with me.

Due to the lateness of my return, not many minutes passed before my Goddess, wearing a padded silk housecoat and tan silk slippers, opened the kitchen door. No doubt She had been puzzled and annoyed that Her mail had not been in its usual place, but She saw at once the cause of my difficulties, and refrained from punishing me.

Taking down the Mailbag from its hook, She turned and led the way into the warm kitchen. I picked up the plastic sack of papers in my mouth and followed Her on all-fours to Her seat. She put on plastic gloves to take the saliva-wet package from me before wiping it fastidiously with a scented tissue.

"Clever dog, Fido!" She said. Then, indicating a spot by Her side: "Sit! Stay!"

I watched Her unblinkingly as She poured her coffee and began to go through Her mail. Half way through She ordered me to fetch the waste bin, and I picked up the discarded mail in my mouth and dropped it into the bin. She had toast, for a change, and again I sat by Her, hungrily watching each morsel as She ate. She noticed my yearning attention, broke off a crust, and offered it to me.

"Take it, Fido!" She commanded.

I did so, neatly and cleanly, taking great care not to let my lips touch Her fingers, for She had neglected to don Her usual gloves. She fed me several times before rising, putting the letters She had reserved for Her further attention in Her briefcase, and leaving the room.

I hesitated for a second, then rose and followed at Her heels along the corridor and into Her Study. Just as on the previous night, although She must have known I was there by the faint tinkling of the bell on my collar, She ignored me completely as She sat at Her desk and booted up Her computer. Just as on the night before, I wriggled gently past Her legs and into the knee recess below Her desk. Once settled in position, it was not long before my Mistress absently put Her softly shod feet upon me, to my great delight.

She went on with her work, telephoning and typing on Her keyboard. By the names of the organizations She was calling, I gained some inkling of the high position She held. It was to 'Mister Robinson' of the Bank of England She would ask some remote receptionist to speak, to 'Herr Gluck' of the Frankfurt Stock Exchange, to 'Mister Mancini' of Manufacturers Hanover Bank, and similiar luminaries, all important movers in the worlds of Commerce, Banking, and High Finance.

It was while She was speaking, in Her impeccable Parisien French, to a M. Gaston Lefebre of the Bank of France, that Her younger sister entered the room.

"Sorry, Sis; but is the dog in here with you?"

Under my Mistress's feet I stirred restlessly.She pushed my head aside irritably with Her toe.

"Come out, Fido!.......Pardon, Gaston.....une moment......yes, dear; he's here. Can you take him out? I think he needs to do what a dog's gotta do at this time in the morning! Will you feed him for me?......Allo? Gaston? C'etait mon chien......Alors........"

She carried on Her conversation as Her sister led me out by my collar, along the corridor and through the kitchen out into the yard.where she put on my leash and led me into the sandy scrub. When I'd done what she had brought me there to do, she led me into the garage where she put me in my cage. After shovelling some of the crumbly 'Animal Feed' into my trough, she left me.

Later, after a brief sleep, I woke restless and bored in the cramped cage. I stared through the bars into the dimness of the garage and whimpered as I realised that my Mistress could have me shut up here all day - and all the next night too. Perhaps my present position had slipped Her mind; perhaps she had gone out somewhere: in any event there was no way I could communicate my misery and loneliness to Her, caged and forgotten as I thought I was.

But I was much too pessimistic; to my great joy my Lady appeared like a succouring angel to me in my imprisonment. Whining my joy, I emerged from my cage to nuzzle Her feet and Her gloved hands, while She laughed indulgently.

"Good boy, Fido! Did you miss me?....Come on!"

I followed Her to the front of the garage where She bade me stand up. With Her own hands She fitted my harness and my bridle. She placed the bit in my mouth, picked up a long, springy whip, and led me out into the sunshine onto the lawn before the patio where the young lady sat at a table, a cold drink at her elbow, and her eyebrows roused in enquiry.

"I'm going to train him to work in darkness, dear," explained my Lady. "I've been remiss; I noticed the difficulty you had with him the other night."

"But it's not dark yet, Sis!" objected Her sister.

"Foolish child!" came the gently mocking reply. "All I have to do is......this!"

She raised Her hand to my bridle with a swift movement and flicked the blinders attached to it forward to cover my eyes.

Over the shock and fear induced by my sudden blindness, I heard Her continue.

"Your problem was, little sister, that your beast wasn't trained to trust its driver to see that it didn't trip or collide with something it couldn't see. This is how you do it...to give it confidence in its Mistress.....Muffin! Walk on!"

With this She flicked me on the haunch, at the same time sliding the hand holding my halter right up to where it was clipped to my bit; so close that I could feel the soft leather of Her glove on my jaw. Instinctively I started to move forward, despite the fear and disorientation I felt. I was greatly helped by the close guidance She gave me, and was soon confident enough to step out without a thought of any possible unseen hazards in my path.

She led me round in a large circle, at the same time gradually extending the effective length of the halter She held me on, until I was walking, with perfect trust, round and round Her at a distance of several feet .

I felt the whip shaft lie across the front of my thighs.

"Stop!" my Mistress called out.

"There, you see?" She addressed Her sister. "Now we'll try him with his cart. You take him and harness him to it.....don't forget to hold him right up by his bit!"

The young lady's footsteps aproached. I noticed the difference immediately as my Lady released my halter into Her sister's hand. Her handling of me was much less confidence-inducing, causing her to use the whip more freely. But she managed to lead me back into the garage, to attach my harness to the shafts of the cart, and to lead me back to where her Sister was waiting.

The sure, gentle hand of my Lady took my halter, high up near my bit as before.

"Walk on!" She commanded, laying Her whip on my rump.

I obeyed with the same trusting confidence as before, and soon She had lengthened Her grip on my halter to its maximum as She led me around in circuits of increasing complexity; circles, ellipses, and figures-of-eight. Then She made Her sister try; she was much less successful at first, but began to get the hang of it.

"The secret is to keep a constant gentle pressure on its bit, dear," She explained. "Because it can't see it needs to be sure that you are controlling its movements all the time, otherwise it will panic. You're doing well, dear.....Now let's try driving it!"

Reins were attached to my bit, and my halter removed. I heard my lady's soft footsteps retreat, and felt the cart sway as she took Her seat. Sensing that I was a little frightened, She took a minute or so to talk to me softly and soothingly.

"Good boy! Good Muffin! Mistress won't hurt Her pony!" etc.

As She did so She pulled back a little on the reins, so that a gentle, comforting pressure was applied to my mouth. Then She flicked me on the rump.

"Walk on!"

Tentatively I took a step into the blackness, then another. With increasing confidence I continued in a straight line, the cart rolling silently on the grass. Though I knew very well that the lawn would soon end, I found that I had perfect confidence in my Mistress to direct my movements. And so it proved, for the pull on the left of my bit increased as that on the right diminished and I turned left on to what was a path, for I felt the change under my feet from the clipped grass of the lawn to the coarse turf of the Estate paths.

I walked on and on at an easy pace, around bends and up and down grades, my primitive fears of moving around blind dissolving as I went on without mishap. Then the whip struck again, and for a brief moment I panicked at the prospect of trotting through the dark, unable to see where I was going. But only for brief moment; the constant gentle pressure on my mouth reassured me, and soon I was trotting along at full speed, with perfect trust in my Lady's ability to keep us from crashing into some obstacle. At some time I was driven out into the scrubland, for I felt the hot sun on my shoulders and back, and the hot sand under my running feet. There I was driven in a series of complicated manoeuvres which I performed with complete confidence, before my Lady back pulled me gently to a halt.

I was aware of Her alighting, and leading me a few steps forward. The cart brake clicked on, and the reins slithered over my head. I heard the scuff of leather, and then the sound of Her footsteps mounting wooden steps. I heard Her say:

"Let him rest for a bit. I'll have a cold drink, then you can take him out. He's done very well with me! But it's essential that he's brought to trust his driver. Put yourself in his position; a blind animal being forced to run through the dark. You'd be frightened of tripping or running into a tree or something! He must KNOW that you are in control of his movements."

"I see!" remarked the young lady thoughtfully. "A lot different from driving him when he can use his eyes!"

"Yes, indeed! Then you can afford to let his reins slacken when you wnat him to continue in a straight line; he can see where he's going. But when he's blinded, you have to keep presssure on his bit; equal to keep him going straight, on one side or the other if you want him to turn. But never so much pressure that he'll think you want him to stop!"

The two sisters continued with their talk while I took what stock I could of my surroundings. I was standing on grass, in the shade. Even unable to see I was fairly sure I was on the lawn in front of the patio. I suspected I was tethered by my reins to the balustrade though I had no way of proving this, for I could not move in any direction, harnessed to the cart as I was. And even if I had been free of the shafts I doubted I would have summoned up the courage to move, blind as I was, and with my arms firmly strapped behind me. The knowledge of my complete helplessness might have depressed and frightened me beyond measure were it not for my total trust in my Goddess - She would not see me hurt! The footsteps of Her sister as she came nearer brought me out of this train of thought. She untethered me, and I followed her round uncertainly to the pull on my bit; she was not as sure as Ms Howard in handling me. After she'd got me into clear space, she mounted into the cart. The reins went slack for a moment before pressure was asserted on both sides of my bit; a little unevenly due to her inexperience.

The whip came down on my rump. "Walk on!" she said. I complied; we crossed the lawn a little vaguely, the pressure on my bit altering alarmingly as we went. But she managed to get me on to a path at last, and she was wise enough to keep me at a slow walk until she gained experience in directing me, and until I gained confidence in her.

This mutual learning curve went on for some time, but at last she felt able to whip me into a faster pace, then - and I think we were on the long, wide straight which led to the Summerhouse - into a full gallop. By now I was only a little fearful; she braked me slowly and took me left onto another, evidently narrower path, for tree branches and shrubs occasionally rapped my flanks as I trotted on. I'd pulled her, with some effort, up a grade when she stopped me. Panting and exhausted, I felt the reins being pulled over my head again and heard a brief fumbling of leather before her soft steps went away. I wondered if we were in the glade on the hilltop where she had taken me before. Then she had lain down on the soft, scented grass and slept for a while.If she should choose to do that now there was nothing I could do except to stand patiently waiting for her to drive me away. Meanwhile, my eyes being lost to me, I extended as best I could the range of my other senses. I could smell the scents of flowers and grass, and I could, by concentrating, hear the soft rustling of leaves under the cool sea-breeze, and the occasional startled flutter of a bird. Then I heard the muted jingle of her mobile telephone. I was tethered downwind of her, of course, and her conversation came to me clearly.

"Hello?.....Sis?...Oh, the software from UCLA?......It's come?...Oh, good! I'll drive down and pick it up!"

Her voice was louder as she came closer. My reins were untied from whatever she'd tethered me to and dragged back over my head as she took her seat. A painful flick from her whip and the command 'Walk on!' and I started off. The halt had done her recently acquired expertise little good, for I found my self zig-zagging across the glade until she regained command of me. She was careful to take me slowly down the grade, but when we reached the bottom and she'd tugged my head round on the new route, she whipped me immediately into a fast trot. I was a little scared; her touch was by no means as assured as her Sister's, but I was finally slowed and halted without mishap. I heard her leave the cart, open and close a door, and felt the cart heel on its springs as she remounted.

She whipped me into motion, and we set off again. From my sighted memory of the lay out of the paths I tried to estimate our position, but the twists and turns of our journeys had thoroughly confused me, and when I was brought to a halt on paving I had no idea where I was.

Again I was (presumably) tethered; again I heard her footsteps diminish. After recovering my breath, I again consulted my nose, ears, and sense of touch. Results from the latter were scanty; I could feel the heavy, sweaty harness around me, and I could tell I was standing on paving - it felt too smooth under my feet to be concrete. I could tell, too, that I was in shade, and possibly screened from the breeze, for the air was hot and still. My nose brought me the smells of sun-warmed wood and stone, and a hint of something else which I knew from long ago. I was puzzling over this when there suddenly came the sound of fast, flapping feet and an enormous splash not twenty yards from me. Then I knew what the smell was - chlorine, and I was near the swimming pool I had been sure existed on Ms Howard's property.

I had no idea, of course, of the identity of the diver, now noisily splashing around in the pool. It may have been my Lady, and, oddly, I was glad of my blindness then, for I obscurely felt it would be an act of great impertinence on my part to regard my Goddess in so scanty a garment as a swimming costume.

More feet and another splash announced the presence of a further swimmer; almost certainly both sisters were now in the pool. Sweaty and dirty as I was (for I'd been unable to operate my shower earlier when I'd been in 'dog' mode) I envied them the cool cleanliness of the water they swam in. But, of course, my Mistress would no more dream of allowing Her pony into Her pool than She would Her dog!

I heard them emerge together, then the soft sucking of wet soles on stone. The rustle of towels being briskly rubbed on bodies, then the creak of canvas and wood as they lay down in their recliners. Then the tinkle of ice in glasses; I licked my lips thirstily at the sound, and as usual tried to project my need at my Mistress a few feet away.

But She was talking to Her sister; by my heightened sense of hearing, lying on Her stomach the while.

"You get on alright, dear?" She enquired lazily of Her sister.

"No real problems," came the reply. "It was as you said; the trick is in keeping the reins a little tight all the time."

"You haven't lived until you've driven a pony and trap at speed through complete darkness, with only a tiny light to show you the path, little sister!" She said playfully.

"OK." answered the young lady, a little dubiously. "I'll have a go at it sometime!"

"You'll be OK," laughed her Sister. "Now let's relax.....What time is it anyway?"

"Twelve noon exactly!" Her sister replied, after a pause.

"Fine! I'll have a short doze, then fix lunch about one o'clock. That be alright, dear?"

Her sister assenting to this proposition, they fell silent, and, presumably, slept. I stood patiently on the hard paving; hot, sticky, and envying them their slumber. I was also becoming bored beyond measure, tethered here unable to move more than a few inches in any direction, and I longed for one of them to wake, and drive me off somewhere - anywhere; just so I could feel the cool air on my hot,sweaty body.

It could only have been an hour or so - though it had felt much longer - when I heard one of them stir and rise. Bare feet slapped softly on the paving as the walker approached. As my tether was loosed, and the reins pulled back over my head and shoulders, a bare upper arm brushed against my bridled head and a faint clean of chlorine came to my nose. The cart heeled as usual under my Driver's weight, the whip flicked my body, and I set off trustingly into the blackness.

Very soon I was aware that is my Lady Herself holding my reins, Her sureness of touch was unmistakable. Guiltily I imagined Her as She sat in Her seat above me. I knew She was barefoot, and I was sure She was still clad in Her swimsuit. It would be one-piece, of course; probably some shade of light tan or cream the better to show Her flawless skin, and the perfect proportions of Her Woman's body. It was as well I was blind, I reflected; and what would She think if I conveyed somehow that I found Her physically attractive? I imagined Her reaction: astonished laughter and honest incomprehension, as if such a sentiment had been expressed by a bird,a cow, or a cat. I knew very well by now that She looked upon me purely as an animal.

It was quite a short journey, not much more than five minutes at the slow walk She kept me to, and when She alighted and tethered me, I found I was standing on gravel, from which I surmised I was by the Front Porch, not many feet from my box.

A long, boring interlude followed; I imagined the Sisters eating their meal, and relaxing afterwards, but when no-one appeared and the time wore on and on, I became more and more bored and restless. I recalled that I'd often seen harnessed and tethered horses in that condition, shuffling their hooves back and forth, pawing the ground, eager to be on the way; now I found myself doing the same, my bell tinkling and the rings on my bit clattering against the metal clips of my reins. It was so much worse being blind; the permanent darkness made my predicament more unbearable, with nothing to distract me. But there was nothing I could do; only to stand patiently waiting, praying that my Mistress would soon come to me and take me somewhere - anywhere! - away from here.

But, after what seemed an age, it was not She who came, but Her young sister. Everything I heard and felt told me this; from the sound of her footsteps to the clumsy way in which she pulled my head round by my bit when she had untethered me. She mounted the cart and whipped me into motion. Her handling of me would never be as gentle and sure as her Sister's, but quite shortly she had me trotting along, only a little apprehensive of what might be in my path.

I knew nothing of our journey, of course, except that was in three parts; only that I was halted twice, tethered and left alone, once for some time. Tired and footsore, I was finally stopped back at the front porch, where I was tied up as before.

Another long, weary interlude; then my Goddess came to me at last! Not to drive me, for She led me gently off, and I felt the feel of grass below my feet give way to gravel, and then to the chill, gritty concrete of the garage floor. There She, with Her own gloved hands, unharnessed me from the cart. She removed my harness,the bridle and bit, and last of all, the blindfold. Before my eyes had the time to become accustomed to the light, She ordered me to kneel and extend my hands. She slipped the mitts over them, and clipped a leash to my collar. Blinking in the still dazzling glare, I was led on all fours from the garage and out into the back yard. There, over the drain, the short chain from the steel ring set in the floor was clipped to my collar.

My Lady left me for a few minutes, only to re-appear dressed for dirty work in coveralls and rubber bootees, an ensemble She wore with the same unconscious 'chic' that She would wear anything. She turned on the tap and hosed me down, then She poured liquid soap all over my body. Finishing with washing off the suds, She dried me quickly and expertly with some lengths of old sacking; the coarse weave making my skin tingle. She completed my 'toilette' with a liberal application of animal deodorant, detached the chain, and, commanding me to 'Heel!', walked out onto the lawn below the patio. She led the way up the steps onto the verandah; there I found She, or Her sister, had attached a long chain to a staple set low down on one of the thick wooden balustrades. The end of this chain She clipped to my collar, then walked into the house, leaving me on all fours staring after Her. The chain was eight feet long, but still too short to allow me to reach any of the tables and chairs set upon the wooden floor; however, my Mistress, in Her kindliness, had spread a large square of sacking by the balustrade I was chained to, to save my bones from the hardness of the floor. I blessed Her as I sank down on it, then began to ponder what events were like;ly to place when She returned. My spirits were high; at least I was not wearing my hated muzzle, and I liked my 'dog' role even better than being Her slave - it enabled me to get closer to Her.

I looked through the rails out across the lawn. It was much later than I'd thought - for I'd lost all sense of time standing blind between the shafts of the cart - the sun was nearly setting, red and huge on the clear horizon. Lying quite comfortably in the warm, still air - due to constant practice in the last few days - I could hear the various sounds made by the residents as thay went about their various activities in the house. It became dark; soft lights were switched on, along with the muted blue-white glare of insect exterminators set high in the walls. The young lady appeared, and laid the table for a 'diner-a-deux'. Occasionally delicious cooking smells came to my nose, causing my mouth to water. Then my Lady came in and took Her seat. Her sister brought them both aperitifs, which they savoured as their dinner was brought to perfection in the oven.

Bored, and longing to be with my Mistress, I rose and went to the end of my chain to get as close to Her as I could. The rattling of the chain upon the wooden floor alerted them to my movements, and I felt my Lady's amused gaze upon me as the chain checked me and I sat upright about three feet from Her chair.

"Poor Fido!" said Her sister. "He wants to lick your shoes, Sir!"

"Not these shoes, he won't!" replied my Lady, examining with approval the slim russet high-heeled shoes on Her shapely feet. They had obviously been chosen, with Her usual exquisite taste, to go with Her gown of the same shade, and the necklace of garnets - surely they couldn't be rubies? - around Her long and slender neck.

"You could always muzzle him," Her sister argued.

"Not tonight - I thought I'd give him a break. I've chained him up so he won't be too much of a nuisance."

I whimpered at Her words, then lay on my belly and stared at Her with fixed devotion, my head propped on my paws.

They convered languidly for a few more minutes, then my Lady served their meal. Like all superb cooks, She used only the finest ingredients and cooked them in the simplest of ways. First there was a bouillion, clear and strong; then a simple steak with a side dish of salad; finally a delicate iced trifle. With the first courses they drank a robust Californian Red; with their dessert a Chateau Yquem. The young lady brought back a selection of cheeses. along with more of the red wine.

Perceiving that my chain would allow me to get at least a foot nearer to Her sister than to my Lady, I rose and sat at as close to her as I could. I raised my eyes to her face (which I'd never dared to that of my Mistress) and stared at her beseechingly.

"Poor Fido!" she smiled. "What do you want, boy?"

In sudden inspiration I half rose on my heels and held out my paws in the classic 'begging' position.

The young lady laughed out loud in glee. "Oh! Isn't he cute?" she exclaimed. "Here, Fido!" And she leld out a rind of cheese to me.

Automatically I glanced at my Mistress for permission. I was glad to Her nod slightly, but I could see She did not really approve. 'It's alright on this occasion', She seemd to convey, "and she IS my little sister. But I don't like people feeding dogs from the table!" (From which I could tell that it would be the muzzle for me in the future).

But this was tonight; tomorrow could take care of itself! (Also, I suspect that, having been treated as an animal for so long, I was beginning to lose all notions of the importance of the future as being something which I, as an animal, couldn't affect).

Finally my Lady's sister had exhausted the supply of rinds and crusts on the table, and my Mistress suggested they take their coffee and Brandy further along the verandah, where they could watch the stars.

I stood and whined after them as they moved to comfortable wicker chairs further away from me, but my blessed Goddess returned, to remove my chain from the post it was attached to, and to re-secure it to another one by their seats.

They sat back in their chairs, their drinks on a small table between them, their feet resting on a large, woven rug. To my great joy my chain, in its new position, let me get onto the rug near enough to reach my Lady's feet should She choose to extend Her legs a little. And She did, but only long enough for me to nuzzle Her shoes for a moment before She withdrew them from my reach. Foiled, I flopped down at their feet; the young lady stretched out her legs and rested her dirty sneakers on my hip.

"Isn't he a good dog!" she said contentedly. "I wish we could keep him always!"

"I'm working on it," Ms Howard said enigmatically.

"Wow! Really, Sis?"

"Yes. A problem is finding somewhere to keep him."

"I've an idea! What about up at the cabin in that old bear cage?"

"It would certainly be large enough to let him move around a little. But he'd be very lonely, and one of us would have to go up there every few days to fill his feeder and so forth. I think that would be too cruel, little sister. No, I've thought of a way to keep him here."

"Here? As a permanent animal? Wow, Sis! How are you going to do that?"

"Well, the only people here on a regular basis are the cleaning staff, for three hours on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays in the morning, and the gardeners for three hours on Monday and and Friday afternoons. If I change the hours for the gardeners to the mornings of those days, we'll only need to keep him out of sight on three mornings a week for three hours at a time - and I think I've found the very place to put him in!"

Her sister wrinkled her brow in thought, then her face cleared.

"The old root cellar!" she cried.

"Exactly!" said my Mistress. "The old cellar below the Summerhouse. No-one will ever know he's down there."

"We can keep him chained to the wall!" the young lady enthused, her eyes alight with enthusiasm. "Or you can put him in slave mode and make him dismantle his cage in the garage and re-erect it in the cellar! You're a genius, big Sister!"

The two fell silent, enjoying their shared vision of my future while I lay there indifferently. Then my Lady's sister spoke, her voice hesitant.

"But would he.....could he.....really go through with it? Knowing he'll be kept like an animal for the rest of his life?"

Ms Howard bridled. Her voice was dismissive.

"I own him........and he will do what I want for him........won't you, Fido?"

She kicked me carelessly in the small of my back. For answer I rubbed my head against the sharp heel of Her shoe in abject devotion. She brought her sister down to earth.

"But that's in the future, maybe,"She said briskly. "And now, if you've had quite enough Brandy, it's bed for you, young lady! For all of us, in fact!"

So saying, with lithe grace She rose from Her seat. Commanding me to 'Heel!' She unloosed my chain and strode out upon the darkened lawn. With me faithfully hanging on Her footsteps, She led the way to the garage. There She caged me, before shovelling into my trough an ample supply of feed. She lingered a moment as I ate, ruffling the hair on my lowered head with Her gloved fingers.

"Good Fido! Good dog!" I heard Her whisper; then, with a sudden move, She was gone, leaving only a trace of Her subtle fragrance on the air disturbed by Her passage.

In the darkness I gobbled down the feed She had given; their conversation about my future with them completely unregarded. Ms Howard, I knew in my heart, would see to it that no real harm came to me. True; sometimes people have to do things to animals that the animal doesn't dislikes and fears - but it's done for the animal's own good. Often in the future this would happen to me, I thought, but my complete confidence in my Goddess warded off any fears. What would be, would be. If I could only spend the rest of my life at Her feet, 'that Paradise would be Paradise enow!'

#

SATURDAY

When my cage door was remotely opened by my Mistress that morning I was more than glad to scramble out onto the cold, concrete floor of the garage. Stretching to relieve my cramped muscles, I went out into the yard behind the kitchen and managed to get a drink from the dribble of water left in the shower hose. (The shower itself I couldn't use with my mitts on, of course). Hanging from its hook in the porch I found the Mailbag which it was my duty to exchange. As on the previous day I had some difficulty getting the bag down and its strap over my shoulder with the mitts covering my hands.

At last, the Mailbag bumping against my thigh, I was running steadily along the grass paralleling the drive, on my way to the Lodge. It was early - so early that the sky was an unbroken light grey; and it was cold. I ran as fast as I could, my heart pounding in my chest and my lungs heaving with exertion, until I arrived at the hatch in which Ms Howard's Mail and newspapers were deposited by those delivering them.

Opening the hatch, using the same trick of holding a stick in my mouth as I'd discovered yesterday, I removed the contents and left the bag I'd brought in their place. Carrying back the exchanged Mailbag would be no great problem, heavy and bulky though it was, but, to my horror, the newsapers were thick with weekend supplements, and so large that they'd been delivered in two separate bulging plastic bags. After a few minutes frustration I found it impossible to carry more than one package. With the Mailbag over my shoulder, I picked up one of the plastic bags in my mouth and set off. Several times on the way I had to put it down as it slipped from my grip; I would then have to stop for a short period to let the muscles of my neck and jaws recover from the strain. Back in the porch I placed the papers on the doormat, and hung up the Mailbag. Then I ran back for the other package.

Thanks to the earliness of my release, my Mistress found me sitting attentively waiting for Her when She opened the kitchen door. She took down Her mail and turned back. I picked up one package and followed Her, leaving it on the floor beside Her chair before returning for the other. When She turned away from the Servery where She had poured Her coffee, it was to find me sitting upright waiting for Her, a plastic covered bag of Her newspapers in my mouth.

She donned plastic gloves and took it from me gently, then the other bag.

"Good dog!" She said absently, wiping my saliva from the plastic with tissues which She tossed on the floor. Unbidden, I trotted over on all-fours to fetch the waste-paper bin, into which I dropped the soiled tissues.

Outside the sky lightened into a perfect duck-egg blue as the sun rose. Ms Howard sipped Her coffee and perused Her newspapers as I lay on the hard tile floor at Her feet. (I'd thought of licking Her footwear, but, on regarding the delicate silk slippers She wore, reluctantly decided against it. I suspected that if She considered me a nuisance I'd be sent back to my cage in a trice).

After Her breakfast My Lady did not check Her mail this morning, but merely placed it unopened in Her sleek Louis Vuitton briefcase before sending me off to the garage for my leash. Returning, I offered it to Her in my mouth, taking care not to let my saliva contaminate the loop-handle. She had changed into sturdy outdoor shoes and put on a quilted housecoat during my brief absence. Taking the leash from me, She clipped it to my collar, then led me through the house and on to the patio. Down the steps and across the dewy lawn we went, with me following close by Her side, my head occasionally being brushed by the soft, wide skirt of Her coat. We wandered slowly, seemingly at random, along the paths; warmth had come with the rising sun, and the air was still and scented with the smell of growing things. I was blissfully happy, responding automatically to the gentle tugs on my collar as my Mistress changed our direction, my leash rapping my shoulder and flank as I obediently followed Her steps. When at last She brought us back to the patio, She stopped and sat on the broad lower step in the sunshine. I sat back on my haunches in front of Her, the leash between us following a graceful curve from Her hand to my collar. I felt Her regarding me with kindness and approval, and a great flood of devotion rose in me; so much that I fell to my belly and crawled to Her feet where I nuzzled Her dew-wet shoes in adoration.

The spell was broken; She sighed and rose. She led me up the steps and along the verandah to where She and Her sister had sat last night. The long chain was still there; She clipped it to my collar, removed my leash, and went into the house. I sat for a long time looking after Her before lying down gratefully on the hard wooden floor and falling into a light doze.

The arrival of my Lady's sister brought me to the end of my chain to to nuzzle her hands and feet in welcome. She stooped and took my head in both her hands; her busy fingers scrabbled in the hair behind my ears and at the back of my neck, ocasionally catching in my collar as they went about their work. I closed my eyes in bliss.

"Good dog!.....Good Fido!........ Did She leave you here after your walk?"

My Mistress's clear voice broke in on us, causing me to jerk my head sharply toward its unseen source.

"Are you ready, dear? We don't have much time."

"Ok, Sis! Give me five minutes!"

"Very well - but not an instant longer!" my unseen Mistress laughed in reply. "Send Fido to his box, would you?"

The young lady loosed my chain.

"Fido! Box!" she commanded, pointing with her finger the direction I was to go.

I scampered off on all-fours, down the steps and over the sun-dappled lawn, into the yard and through the garage, over the gravelled drive and on to the Front Porch where I wriggled into the cramped darkness of the box. There I rested and awaited with patience the demands of my Mistress.

It was not long before I heard Her quick footsteps and Her first shoe was thrust below my lips. They were beautifully made shoes, of highly polished leather, and I licked then thoroughly and with loving care. Water was given me in the saucer, and the young lady's battered sneakers replaced my Lady's elegant footwear. I dealt with those too, and was given more water as a reward.

The wooden door of the box rose and I scrambled out to find my Lady and Her sister sitting in the SUV, its tailgate raised.

"Fido! Here!" called my Mistress from the driving seat, holding out my muzzle.

I ran to Her, and sat by the open door for Her to muzzle me. Then: "Cage!" She ordered me, and I felt Her eyes regard me as I scrambled over the door sill and into the cage. She closed both the cage door and lowered the tailgate by remote control, started the powerful engine, and drove off.

I settled down on the thick, soft paper covering the steel floor of my cage. It was dim in the rear of the vehicle and I dropped into a light doze as soon as Ms Howard drove out from the Lodge of Her Estate and on to the smooth blacktop. After some time, we came to a halt; the sounds of the doors shutting as the two occupants departed brought me to full wakefulness. I listened to the sound of their footsteps receding into the distance, then rose to all-fours. Pressing my back hard against the top bars to gain as much height as possible, I tried to see out of the tinted windows. But, as usual, I found my vision severely restricted by the height of the windows from the floor, and the high backs of the two rows of seats in front of me. There were noises of cars stopping and starting, and now and then I heard footsteps as people passed to and fro; once someone stumbled into the side of the car, causing it to tremble on its springs. I was becoming very hungry, but I was getting accustomed to that. My Mistress seemed to feed me at irregular intervals; probably whenever She remembered to.

Vaguely I wondered where I was: some Shopping Mall or other probably, or the sisters had stopped for coffee, or for a multitude of reasons. I examined my reactions and could find no trace of resentment or even surprise at my unceremonious abandonment; of course they had left 'the dog' in the car while they went about their business! But they returned shortly, and we drove off.

So smooth and quiet was our progress that I fell into a deep sleep, to come only half awake when we came to a halt.

The cage door opened, and the tailgate rose.

"Here, Fido!" commanded my Mistress.

When I'd scrambled down from the car, I found Her standing by the open driver's door. I came to Her wondering, and sat before Her.

She gestured for me to extend my front paws, then, to my surprise, removed my mitts. To my concern and amazement, She went on to remove my muzzle and then my collar. I knelt on the ground staring at Her in consternation as She took Her seat and closed Her door. She threw a black trash bag from the window, and then She drove off, my head swiveling to follow Her progress.

With a growing sense of disbelief I watched the SUV diminish into the hazy distance, and finally go out of my sight altogether. In a daze I looked around me. I had been left on an endless stretch of dusty concrete, hot under the sun. Endless rows of cars were parked in lines as far as the eye could see. I crawled over to the trash bag and emptied its contents on the ground. .

Spread out before me I found the clothes I had arrived in, and finally I realized what had occurred. My vacation was over, and Ms Howard had brought me back to where She had found me; on the county-sized long-stay carpark of the local International Airport! I knelt there unmoving for several minutes, heedless of the hot sun beating on my head and shoulders, while I struggled to come to grips with the sudden change in my life. Finally, I stood and began mechanically to drag on my clothes, not bothering with any underwear, and thrusting my sockless feet into my shoes. Dressed, I picked up my flightbag and began the long hot trek to the Terminal. As my dazed astonishment began to recede, I became more and more aware of a sense of irrepairable loss; of desolation and abandonment which caused me to stop and weep.

After the worst of this emotion had passed, I went on drearily. I felt uncomfortably naked without my collar; my unwanted and unaccustomed clothing rasped and grated against my skin; my feet were sweaty and cramped in their leather prisons. I realized with as a start that this was the first time for days when I could pick my own direction and pace, and decide for myself when and where to go. I could talk at will now too; since I'd met Ms Howard my only words had been at Her order, and had been limited to 'Yes, Mistress!' But I would not enjoy my freedom, I thought with a sob of despair. 'Freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose.' What would I not give to have again my Lady's gentle guiding hand holding my leash?

The long trudge went on and on; the view of the ubiquitious parked cars unchanging as I dutifully followed the broad white arrows painted on the concrete denoting the exit. Dust devils rose and fell as I walked on in the hot silence; vagrant breezes swirling around me.

I was crossing a broad expanse of tyre-scarred concrete when I heard the faint noise of a vehicle far away. It seemed to be getting closer, and I squinted into the glare towards it, aware of my vulnerability in the middle of the road. The car came to a halt about fifty yards from me, its shape shimmering and changing randomly in the heat-distorted air. For an instant it became clear; it was Ms Howard's SUV! I saw the window wind down, and my collar and leash thrown out.

I could not help myself. Wish a soundless cry of joy I ran towards Her, tugging off my clothes and discarding my shoes as I went. Naked, I stood before Her for an instant, then went down on all fours. Picking up my collar and its attached leash in my mouth, I sat on my haunches by Her door, my hands held out and down in the best imitation of a dog 'begging' that I could manage.

I saw the door open, and the hem of her gown, Her sheer stockings, and Her chic, glossy high-heeled shoes came into my vision. Gently She took my burden from me in; deftly and gently She buckled my collar in its familiar position around my lowered neck, the thin, soft leather of Her gloved hands brushing deliciously against my hair and skin. Her passenger, the young lady handed Her my muzzle wordlessly, and in a few seconds I felt again its soft pressure around my jaws.

My Goddess dropped my leash. I could sense Her looking down on me; I dared to hope with approval. At last She spoke.

"Good dog!.......Good Fido!" She said softly. Then: "Fido! Cage!"

With a heart too full for words I sprang to the back of the car and leapt through the open tailgate and into the cage. The doors closed, and Ms Howard drove off.

For a moment I stood on all-fours and stared in devotion at the dim outline of my Mistress's head and shoulders. Then I lay down contentedly on the soft padding. The deep happiness that I felt stayed with me; my Goddess had not abandoned me! I didn't know where we were going, or what was to become of me, and I didn't care. What business was it of mine, anyway? Ms Howard owned me; I was Her property; She would take me where She would, and do with me what She liked, for the rest of my life, for as long as I lived.

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