Chapter 6 : Broken Bitch








The last insult that I had hurled at him after the forced blowjob, was now coming back to bite me in my ass. The knot holding the rope at my chest was cut off and I was dragged back on the table. He put his arms beneath me, and turned me around, so that I was lying across the length of the table, instead of the narrow breadth. He was just pulling and pushing me as if I was some object and not a human being.


I could finally rest my head on the table, but my legs below the knees were dangling in the air. I had closed my eyes out of exhaustion, when I felt cold steel on my ankles again, and heard the click. Ankles - cuffed again. Next was the handcuffs around my wrists, and I was prepared for it. But that was not all. He took the rope which he had used previously to secure my chest and butt to the table, and tied it around my wrists in several loops. And then came the surprise. He bent my legs and brought them closer to my butt. So close, that my heels almost touched my butt cheeks. He pulled the rope tighter making me stretch my arms as far as they could go, and then tied that rope around my ankles. It all seemed futile since I was already cuffed.


But the reality dawned when he released my feet. The rope held my wrists bound to my ankles. If pulled back my arms, my legs were lifted too and all my weight came onto my chest. If I tried to relax my feet and stretched them away from my butt, the rope pulled at my wrists and shoulder, raising it from the table, so that all my weight was on my stomach. I pulled and released and finally understood that no matter what I did, either my shoulders, or my wrists, or waist, or legs- any one of them was going to suffer a shitload of pain. The only way to avoid it was to distribute the strain. I had to keep a balance by looking straight, arching my back a little, and hold my feet with my hands. It was extremely uncomfortable and exhausting, and I had no idea for how long I would have to stay like this, because he just turned off the lights, stormed off into the living room, locked the door and went out, leaving me all tied up like a pig on the table, and plunged into darkness for an indefinite time.





The silence and the darkness were unbearable. It was difficult to say what was causing more pain to me – the position in which I was lying or the piercing loneliness that had swept all over me since the minute he had left. I rested my head on the table, and drifted in and out of sleep. The fact that I could sleep in such an uncomfortable and awkward position made me realize how exhausted my brain and body must have been.


The oral sex forced on me in the past hour, had left a bad taste in my mouth. It felt as if the semen soaked panties were rotting in my oral cavity making it dry, sore and definitely smelly. Lying in the trunk had already stiffened each and every part of my body, but standing there all bent and squashed against the table had broken my back. He had forgotten that there was already a back problem which I suffered since my infamous scooter accident from almost two years ago. If he wanted to leave me alone like this, at least he should have taken the pain of making me a little comfortable. Every muscle from my shoulder to feet ached, the rope dug into my skin, and the table felt hard against my breasts and stomach. He had kept the air conditioning on which made me feel extremely cold.


This temperature was alright normally, but being completely naked except for my bra changed things quite a bit. Being a realist, I had already accepted that escape from this strict tie-up was impossible, but the least I could do was make myself comfortable. Taking the first step to accomplish that, I stretched my legs as far as they would go. They hung in the mid-air and pulled at my wrists, while I put all me weight on my stomach and thighs, and tried to move a little to my left. If only, I could shift to one side of the table and then turn on my right side, there was a chance that in the next step I could turn more and manage to lie on my back.


Cautiously I continued my movements, keeping enough gap to prevent me from falling off the table. Holding my leg with my wrist I gradually put all my weight on my right shoulder and tried to turn sideways. The first few attempts failed, but finally, one quick jerk helped me turn, almost making me fall. All my weight was on my right side now, and I was facing the door. It was a stupid move because now my right arm was crushed beneath my own body. But having a chance to rest me legs on the table, and the freedom on my breasts brought some much-needed relief.


They were sweaty and pale from all the pinching, pulling and being sandwiched between me and the table. I lay still thinking of what could have been so important that had made him leave the house in the middle of the night…..Out of the blue, a shrilling sound pierced through the silence, followed by a loud drumming sound. I strained to look back at the bed and saw his phone ringing and vibrating on the sidetable. It went silent and after a few minutes started ringing again. That’s when it struck me, that it was his alarm going off, playing Rocky’s Eye of the tiger ringtone. This implied that it was 5’o clock in the morning already- his time to wake up and start exercising. In past few months he had turned into a fitness freak, waking up at 5am every morning, going out for an hour-long jog, and then onto the terrace for multiple sets of push-ups and sit-ups. So almost eight hours had already gone by since the ordeal had started and there were still 16 more to go.


If I was in such a bad state in one-third time, I was going to be end up insane by the time it got over. The alarm kept going on and on every five minutes for almost 5-6 times until eventually the phone went dead leaving me all alone again. The fool! Didn’t he know the basic rule of BDSM, was to never leave a bound person alone. Plus, I was not just bound, but gagged too. In last 8 hours, I had learnt how to keep my breathing controlled, and how to keep breathing through my nose. But now it was getting frustrating. What if my nose clogged up? I would end up suffocating by the time he even came back. Fuck, that was a scary thought! This was highly irresponsible of him, and I hated him for that.


I woke up with a start from the sound of a door being unlocked, and saw his silhouette on the living room door. The lights were flicked on making me go blind for a moment. My heart beats raced as I saw him enter the bedroom – not out of excitement but out of fear of what he had in store for me next. In his hands, there was huge white Apollo Pharmacy polybag, which made me wonder if he was all right? After all, why else would he rush to the pharmacy in the middle of the night like that. What that bag contained, I had no idea, but something was definitely wrong with him.


He looked passively at me, as if I was some showpiece and went off to the bathroom. That’s when I remembered, I needed to pee badly. Cold and alcohol both always made my bladder go awry, causing me to pee more frequently than usual. When he came out I started grunting through my taped up lips to attract some attention. I could feel that he was looking at me, so I thrust my hips forward tying to indicate that I needed a pee-break. “mmm mmmuuummm, mmmmph.” “Washroom,now!” was what I meant.


Walking up to me he questioned, “You need to pee?..... Hmmmm. Okay.”


I always hated his ‘hmmmm’, so I glared at him, my eyes showering my fury on him. Come on, man! The lady needed a loo break, how difficult was that to proceess.


“You know, asking nicely would really improve your chances right now. It was about time you learned to be a little polite at least”, was all he said.


I just looked away and mumbled ‘fuck you’ which came out as another angry grunt. But his response was as weird as him, “Nope, not yet. Your legs must be stiff, you should take a walk first, bitch!”


What he just called me? A bitch? Bloody jerk! I stared at him in disbelief. He had never ever used that word before no matter how rough our argument got.


Reading my expression, he presented his clarification: “You keep on saying all the time that you are a selfish bitch from hell and shouldn’t be trusted. Well, now I agree.”


He walked off leaving the last few words lingering in my head. Yes, I used to say it often. I had dated and broken up so many times, that I was convinced that I wasn’t designed for relationships. I was selfish and cared only about what made me happy. If something didn’t work out well, I had preferred to end it then and there instead of stretching it endlessly. But not this time. This was my first real relationship that had lasted so long and no matter how hard I tried, it had been impossible to let go of him. He knew me so well, that I couldn’t imagine my life without him anymore. I needed him and I wanted him, but there was no way on the earth that I was going to admit it.


“Come on bitch, I have just the right thing for you.” He was back, holding a black dog collar with a chain attached to it. “I had brought for Tiger, but it is going to suit you just fine.”


Tiger was his neighbor’s dog. Was he serious? Calling me a bitch was thing, but bringing in his dog’s collar was way too much. Without waiting for my reaction, he undid the buckles on the collar, and while I shook my head as much as I could and tried to pull away from him, he wrapped it around my neck, tightened it at the back, and left the chain dangling down on the floor. Asshole! How dare he do that?!! Bastard!


I heard the scissors snipping away at the ropes as the pressure on my feet eased up and the click sound came as the cuffs were removed from my wrists and ankles. I was hoping he would cut off the tape too, but he didn’t. Blood flew through my legs as he straightened them and massaged the calves with both his hands. I was lifted from the table and held roughly until I could stand still without his support.


Marching off to his cupboard, he fished for something and returned with one of his worn out shirts. He quickly cut off the tape from my wrists, brought them to the front, put them through shirt sleeves and cuffed them again. It happened so fast that I once again failed to seize the opportunity to push him away and run. The shirt was draped around me and buttoned up. I stretched my arms forward trying to suggest that he should remove the cuffs, if he was really talking me for a walk.


He got the hint and laughed, saying “Don’t worry, no one will notice.”


He stretched the shirt’s long sleeves over the cuffs, concealing them well, and buttoned up the shirt’s top button thus safely hiding away the dog collar out of sight. I continued struggling, out of the discomfort being caused by my full bladder, while he started wrapping his towel around my waist. I looked down still trying to comprehend what he had in his mind as he secured the towel with his belt buckled up tight around my waist. The towel was long enough to cover me from waist to ankles.


Last but not the least, the tape was roughly ripped off from my lips accompanied by a painful “ahhh” from my mouth. I started to push out the panties with my tongue, and they were almost half way out when he came back and pushed them all in again. I was no way going to voluntarily keep the sodden underwear in my mouth, despite having the golden chance to spit them out.


He knew it, and took away the opportunity by plastering a strip of transparent tape on my lips. He stuck two more strips above that, just to reinforce the effect. My first reaction was to look around to see how many rolls of tape did he actually have in his torture tool-kit. To my utter shock, I saw a half-empty roll of silver duct tape, a transparent roll, a plastic shining roll of black electric tape and a roll of white medical tape. The list of weird and strange stuff, was just getting longer, first the hand-cuffs, then the ring-shaped gag and now this. What else had this guy been hiding all along in the dark corners of his room?


My neck felt choked, when he suddenly tugged at the chain hanging from my collar. With another jerk he pulled me forward. I had no intention to move, but the collar was crushing my wind-pipe so I unwillingly stepped forward. Like a roman-slave bought off from a flea-market, I was pulled outside the house and into the building’s lift. He hit the button for top-most floor, left the chain on the floor and started flexing his muscles in preparation for his daily exercise.


If he was indeed going to treat me like a bitch, I was going to show him how wild I was. Without thinking anything, I turned around and pressed the first button on the panel with my cuffed wrists. The lift opened up on the first floor and I stepped out in a hurry. If only I could get down to the house before him, and lock myself in, it would touch him a good lesson. Maybe I would find the handcuffs’ key was well. I climbed down the stairs and rushed to the door, the chain dangling behind me as I ran.


Reaching his flat, I pushed at the door knob, but it turned out to be locked. Wait! I knew where the spare key was, but it was going to be impossible to reach the electric-meter box with my hands tied up like that. I stretched my arms upwards, and searched the box, and finally the key got into my tired fingers. I rushed back to unlock the door. Just as I had opened the door, and stepped in, he came up right behind me and pushed me in. With one push at my knees, I was down on the ground, sprawled on my buttocks. He stormed off into the bedroom and came back with another pair of hand cuffs and rope.


As I lay sprawled sideways on the floor, he first put the cuffs around my ankles, and then tied the rope above my and below my knees. The rope’s loose end was, brought out beneath the towels overlapping hem, and then tied to the center of the cuffs at my wrists. I didn’t understand the configuration at first. It only made sense when he lifted me and pushed me on my knees.


Damn it. I was on all fours in a crawling position. I tried to get up, but the rope between my knees and wrists made sure that I had to stay bent down. A smack at my butt and another push sent me down again, and then he tugged at the collar. The previous “slave-position” was bad enough, but this “animalstance” was utterly loathsome. In that moment, all my love and longing for him evaporated, and with every pull at the chain, my hatred for him went deeper and deeper.


Very few flats were occupied in his building, and since it was a long weekend, most of them must have been out on a holiday. There were no CCTV cameras that he needed to worry about as he pulled at me making me crawl right from the living room and into the lift. Every time I tried to get up, he went behind me and smacked my towel covered butt making me squeal in pain. The lift opened up and I was dragged into the terrace.


It was the 21st floor, and this was the highest building in the locality. So, quite conveniently there was no one out there who could have spotted a 25 year old girl being dragged like a bitch by a tall, strong guy. Once we were in the terrace, he took me to one corner and tied the chain to a nearby plumbing pipeline. For extra measure, he took out a small padlock from his pocket and locked the chain in place. It seemed, that every move, every way in which he had treated me or tied up had been well thought and mentally practiced. Possibly, before making a move, he had precisely imagined what to use and how to use it to restrain me, and that is why he had managed to do so in such a flawless manner. Hats off!


The pipe was embedded in the wall, and no matter how hard I pulled, the chain or pipe were not going to come off. I stayed in a kneeling position and lifted my hands from the floor. My palms were dirty and bruised due to all the crawling on the floor. Thankfully, the thick layer of towel had prevented my knees from getting all bruised up. He had successfully made me feel like I was really his bitch. Yes, that is exactly what I was at the moment. His wild, crazy, pet bitch. I bent low, put my wrists behind me neck and tried to remove the collar but the buckle was secured by a small pad lock too. Trying pulling off the transparent tape off my lips, but it stuck well. Thanks to my nail-biting habits, it was hard to rip off the tape with my blunt nails. I was still trying accept what he had just done to me, when suddenly I heard a dog barking. As I turned around I saw his neighbor’s dog coming right at me.


He stood there watching and exercising as the dog leapt onto me. I was a cat-person and had always hated dogs. Cats were nice and cute and adorable, and I loved them. As per my folks, I was myself one big, lazy cat. Seeing them always made me smile, and seeing dogs always made me run. This big fluffy Tiger was all over me, licking at my arms with his tongue, jumping around me and trying to lick my face. As he moved closer to my face, I fell backwards, and with a thud, landed on my back. The rope from my knees, held my hands near my stomach, while I kept my feet firmly on the ground.


Seeing this as some sort if an invitation, Tiger leapt onto my stomach and started licking my face. His tongue all over me made me feel disgusting. I had seen him licking my boyfriend and other people in the building, and they all claimed that it was completely safe, since he was vaccinated periodically. But I still found it disgusting. My bf stood over me, and sprinkled some milk from a tetra pack all over my body. It felt wet and sticky and made tiger lick me all over again. But, what the fuck, where did the dog and the milk and all that come from? Had he already left them on the stairs before he came to fetch me? That’s what it seemed. Bloody, twisted psycho!!!


He was literally over my body, pushing on my stomach and breasts with his paws. At one moment, his rear leg was right above my vagina and I had to literally push him away. He got angry and started barking like crazy. Really, dogs were like men. Bloody egoistic morons.


All of it was summarized in just one statement, when my boyfriend laughed out loud and said “My Bitch molested by my neighbor’s dog. Awwwww! We must call up his owner. Shouldn’t we?”


While Tiger continued barking, he dialed up a number on his cell phone and said, “Please come up to the terrace.”


He stroked Tiger’s back and calmed him down too, then pulled at the chain again and put me back in the bitch-mode. As soon as I tried to move a little, he would spank me hard.


He took out his phone again, said ”Shhh. Discpline Bitch!”, and clicked my picture.


Tears fell from my eyes, thinking of the state I was in. What had I done to deserve being treated like this? How could any BF in the world ever think of making his GF crawl like a dog? It seemed rather impossible! Just then I heard the lift doors opening and someone walked into the terrace. Holy Crap!!!


It was the same women from yesterday night. And then it struck me. She was Zoya Sheikh, his neighbor. I had seen her pics on Facebook. Obviously, it was difficult to recall all that yesterday night, but seeing her face brought all of it back in a micro-second. But wasn’t she married? From what my BF had told me her husband was some big shot who travelled throughout the year.


They hugged each other and then walked towards me. She smiled me first, and then kicked my butt with her sandals, making me fall again. They both laughed, and walked off to the terrace’s edge, with Tiger at their heels. She stood there watching the sun rise - her arm around his waist, and he kept his hand on around her shoulder. They seemed like a perfect couple, laughing and joking having the best morning of their lives- the strong handsome guy, the hot and sexy woman, and their loyal dog – a perfect family. And lying in one corner, there I was, tied, gagged, abandoned, abused and broken - their bitch.







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