Farmsworth Estate Ch 05

A braver girl might have tried to run, Ellie thought, but she couldn't focus and she was so tired. A good girl wouldn't have … wouldn't have done what she did, given so easily to the pleasure Mr. Thomas tormented her with. But she had. Even now she was still trembling as small echoes of her orgasm fluttered through her. The relief from the gag almost made her cry again; she coughed a little and stirred as the straps pinning her down were loosened.

Mr. Thomas was petting her gently, his touch oddly soothing, while Ellie tried to pull herself together. She drew her thighs together shyly, ridiculous as it was, and felt the slickness between them, and the warm throb of her pussy, with embarrassment. Her eyes were heavy lidded in the aftermath of her orgasm but there were traces of bewilderment as well, as if Ellie couldn't understand why her own body had betrayed her so.

"P- portfolio?" She mumbled, pressing up onto her hands so she was sitting on the table, trying to shake her tumbled hair out of her eyes. The ears pinned tight to her hair tugged and she lifted a curious hand, touching them tentatively and feeling the soft fur, wondering why he'd put them in, what she looked like.

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She looked adorable, so helplessly confused as Mr Thomas went back to his workbench and picked up his camera, screwing the flashbulb into position.

"That's right Milly, for every pack girl that comes through Farmsworth Manor, we record all their details into a portfolio to keep as official records. This includes all punishments, rewards and developments as time goes on." He turned to face her and aimed the camera at her face as she rubbed the soft fur of her new ears.

The flash blinded her for a second as he took the photo and she blinked uncertainly as he came closer to get a better detailed photo of her face.

"Look straight into the camera" he told her, and when she did he took another photo. "Good girl" he told her. Reaching out he pulled her unsteadily to her feet, giving her a second to find her balance before walking her to the wall to get a full shot of her figure. Automatically her hands covered her privates up in embarrassment.

"None of that girl. I need proper photos to go in your file." He told her sternly.

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Ellie swallowed, lower lip trembling a bit. She wanted to protest, to plead – she wasn't a packgirl. But Mr. Thomas didn't look like he'd listen now, any more than he had before. She moved her hands away at his stern look, not really sure where to put them so she clasped them behind her back, the way she did when her tutor had scolded her for poor homework. It presented her breasts nicely, though she didn't think of it, and the reddened, slightly swollen nipples. She blinked at the flash of light.

"My name isn't really Milly," she complained, glancing at Mr. Thomas and his bulky camera form the corners of her eye. It was tentative boundary testing, as Ellie sought to find her place, tried to get some control over her situation. The idea that she wasn't going to be allowed any control at all hadn't yet settled in.

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"My name isn't really Milly," she sulked. It made Mr Thomas smile. Maybe he would find out who's daughter she was from, he knew the Major would want to know for his own sake. He ignored her comment though, he wasn't very fond of pack girls speaking out of line.

"Turn around" he told her. She shuffled shyly round, facing the wall as he moved closer to his work bench. Another photo was taken. His hand came silently down on the handle of a leather paddle as he quickly and stealthily stepped forward, spinning it in his hand to give it extra momentum and slapped it hard on her rump.

She yelp, lifting almost a foot into the air in surprise, clutching her bottom as she spun round and backed away from him. Tears were coming back into her eyes.

"Your first lesson is only to speak when told to." he told her sternly as he placed the paddle on his belt, leaving the threat of it to dangle against his leg. Her eyes never left it. She opened her mouth to say something and stopped, looking down and away from him.

"Much better. Some owners get very upset with pack girls who talk when they shouldn't. You'll find the Major likes to talk to his girls, but wait until you have permission."

He put the camera down on his bench and removed the film, slipping it into his breast pocket to develop it later on.

"We shall get you kitted up and then you may ask questions. Agreed?"

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Ellie nodded, wide-eyed, hands still pressed to her rear. The thwack remained as a sore, hot patch and Ellie didn't want another. Her tutor had caned her, once, over her dress and her father had paddled her a few times when she was very small but nothing compared to the way Mr. Thomas had just set her rear afire with one blow. At least they were done with the photographs, Ellie's vision was still purple blotched from the flash.

Kitted out didn't mean clothes, like Ellie had hoped - she'd be grateful for even the meanest servant clothes now. Mr. Thomas had chests and boxes and shelves of various things, many of which Ellie really didn't want to get to know any better. There were stockings, which she pulled on, not quite beyond blushing when she realized they only went up to mid-thigh and the foot end was shaped and padded into ... paws.

"Oh, no -" Ellie started then shut her mouth, ducking her head and looking apologetically at Mr. Thomas, eyes darting to the paddle. He gave her a warning look and Ellie tried to look very sorry indeed.

He had to help her with the gloves, long and velvety dark, then went up past her elbows because the hands weren't hands. They were padded and rounded like paws, with small, blunt nails even - like a dog's. The only comfortable way to wear them was with her hand curled into a lose fist, over a padded bump. There was no place for her thumbs and Ellie shifted uneasily as Mr. Thomas finished tugging them up, fussing with the high cuffs to get them snug on her arms.

"Good," he stroked her shoulder. "Now, down girl."

"What?"

Mr. Thomas' mouth hardened and he grabbed her hair, forcing her down to her knees. "Down!" Firmly spoken, as he released her with a little pat. "Good girl."

Ellie's breath caught at the tone, the same firm tone all evening - she recognized it now. It was the same firm, patient tone of voice her brother use to train his dogs. She stared at her hands, trapped in the paws he'd put on her and made a little dismayed noise - that she bit back before it turned into a word. 'No' hadn't helped her yet and she was eye height to Mr. Thomas' paddle; Ellie didn't doubt that if she made a mistake again, he'd use it on her.

"Almost done," he said soothingly.

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Mr Thomas led her over to the back of the room. Padded apparatus stood above a grill set in the wall. He pointed to it.

"Hop on Milly and spread your cheeks."

She gulped, hey eyes widening at the command, her body trembling slightly.

"I..I...." she started. She gave a yelp as his hand shot out, tangling painfully in her hair. He pulled her head up as he leaned over to stare down into her eyes.

"If we are going to have this problem every time I issue a command, I swear I'll tan your bottom so hard you'll have trouble sitting for a week." He growled at her, a sliver of anger in his voice. She was panting in fear, her warm breath in his face.

"No! No...I...I promise" she whispered breathlessly. He slowly released her hair and she crawled over on all fours to the apparatus. She stared at it for a second deciding how to get on. It was four metal struts, sticking out with padding on the top of each strut. The front two struts were a lot shorter then the back to, and as she clambered awkward onto it she found out it pushed her bottom up even as she bent over.

"Much better Milly." Mr Thomas told her as her ass pointed up, quivering slightly. "Now stay still. I need to make sure you're completely clean before fitting you with a tail."

And he did just that. Using a nearby towel he wiped her sticky juices from her thighs and from her pussy before applying a little more of the lubricant to her bum hole. A small hose pipe connected to a tap of warm water was set in the wall by her head and she watched him in horror as he picked it and took it behind her. She had tightened up in trepidation but with soothing words and patience she relaxed and he was able to insert the hose into her rear. A small gasp escaped her lips, followed by a much larger one as he turned on the tap and let the water clean her insides. Her paws, all four of them, twitched as the water poured into her and Mr Thomas only turned it off when he was positive she was completely clean.

He dried her off with the towel before letting her sit up as he moved round to his own desk, picking out a butt plug. Selecting the correct colour of tail he attached it the the plug and gave it a little gentle squeeze. The tail moved in his hand, the coiled wires on the inside flexing to cause the movement. Mr Yardseller, the previous Kennel Master, had been the inventor of this little device. Rather then a limp, flaccid tail for Major Farmsworth's pack girls, Mr Yardseller had designed a plug tail with fitted coiled wire on the inside in cased in rubber. When pressure was applied to tightened the wires, causing the tail to move back and forth depending on the pressure exerted. When inside of her girls rectum she would squeeze it unconsciously whether she was excited or afraid, and depending on her mood the tail would respond realistically. When afraid the tail coiled down between her legs, curling almost up to her belly. When aroused and excited it would stand straight up and sway side to side. The girls soon adopted it, making themselves wag their tails whenever the Major came to see them and soon it became a big hit. Now it was almost standard for all of England to have these tails fitted to their girls.

After testing it functionality Mr Thomas held it in front of her, watching as her brows furrowed with curiosity.

"Do you know what this is Milly?" he asked. Mutely she shook her head. "This will be your tail. You will keep it in and never remove it unless you need the toilet or are sleeping, in which case someone with authority will remove it for you."

She still looked confused, a pretty little expression of doubt spreading across her face.

"How?....." She shook her head rather then finish the question. Looks like she is learning, Mr Thomas thought.

"Right, face down and bottoms up." Mr Thomas said, helping her get back on all fours. Moving round to her crinkled anus he positioned it against her hole.

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Ellie was beyond overwhelmed at this point; letting Mr. Thomas position her as he wished, touch her however he wanted. She still trembled at the memory of the awful feeling of being filled and emptied, given as much choice in the matter as an infant or a horse. When Mr. Thomas' hand pressed gently against her bottom, spreading her cheeks, she only hung her head with a whimper.

The pressure of some thing firm and cool against her anus reminded her of the beads and as he wiggled the rubber tip against the tender clenched muscle, Ellie's breath hitched in a little, protesting mewl. But, to her shame, her bottom responded to his patient voice and the pressure by relaxing, taking the rounded tip inside easily. The plug continued to stretch her though, wider than the beads had, making her ache a little. Mr. Thomas had to pause, rocking the plug until she relaxed enough to take the flared bulge. Ellie arched her back with a sharp gasp as the thickest part penetrated her, then her hole clenched down on the slightly narrower base, holding the plug tightly. Her whole body jumped at the feeling of fullness and pressure, her anus gripping the cool rubber. The base of the tail was snug between her pale cheeks and seemed to rise naturally from her body. The length of it was glossy black fur, matching Ellie's shining black hair, and the silky patch of pubic hair that more emphasized than hid her pretty pussy. Ellie shuddered, her tail trembling as it dropped expressively in distress.

"Oh, oh …." Ellie panted, hips twisting in an instinctive attempt to ease the persistent feel of the tail in her. When she moved, the plug shifted and pushed inside her, as her tail swayed. "Please, no more, please …." she begged despairingly.

She mustn't speak, she mustn't, but Mr. Thomas had to stop. Ellie just couldn't stand any more, how could he ask her to? She wasn't meant for this. She couldn't bear this. She felt like she was breaking apart, like she was dying. Ellie's paws scrabbled at the floor as she shook, exhausted, overwhelmed, and shocked by the upending of her whole life.

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Mr Thomas watched as she slumped forward, panting heavily in distress.

"Good girl!" he encouraged her, petting her hair softly. "What a fine bitch you are! So pale and smooth, with such dark hair! You will be the pride of the pack!" he promised her. She turned head towards him weakly as he helped her off the bench. He pulled her up on her feet and watched her teeter then for a few seconds, the pads forcing her to remain on her tip toes, before she swayed to far and almost fell if Mr Thomas hadn't have caught her and let her down on her hands and knees gently.

The Major was right! From the looks of things she must have done ballet and gymnastics before. He had never, not in all his years as Kennel Master, seen any pack girl manage to stand up straight while wearing her paws. Maybe I should train her to stand? Mr Thomas mused to himself.

She was looking up at him, still crouched on all fours.

"Ok sit!" he commanded. She looked confused, turning round to look at the bench she had been sitting on before. "No, no, no girl!" Me Thomas exclaimed. "Bond slaves never use the furniture! When I saw sit you must balance in a crouch, back straight, hands in front. Now try again. Sit!"

Awkwardly she sat up, her breasts jutting out invitingly, back straight. Her legs opened, giving him a quick glimpse of her wet treasure before she balanced her body by putting her hands on the floor in front of her.

It was almost perfect. Mr Thomas walked around her before making small correction, chest more forward, back arched more, legs further apart, no eye contact. Poor Milly looked overwhelmed at all this and Mr Thomas was always good at judging these things.

He looked down at her face, cheeks flushed with embarrassment, eyes shining from spent tears. She had her bottom lip caught in her teeth giving her a shy, fragile quality that he didn't get to see often in his job.

"Excellent Milly. Let's add the collar then we can go show the Major your efforts shall we?"

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Ellie gave a hesitant nod. She didn't really want to see the Major, his bluff, amused handling of her had signaled the start of the whole dreadful evening, but maybe meeting him and behaving well would keep Mr. Thomas happy.

He acted so nice - he caught her when she almost fell over, he told her what he expected so patiently ... Ellie was struggling to figure out how to respond to him. Because he'd also been the one to make it impossible to walk, the one to make her behave so shamefully and clearly wasn't going to stop because she cried or begged. He either ignored or punished her whenever she spoke.

The collar was soft, simple leather and after the paws and the dreadful tail still prodding at her insides - Ellie was trying to ignore it - the exhausted ache of crying too long and everything else, it seemed so minor. Still sitting on her haunches, Ellie lifted her chin when Mr. Thomas came near and let him buckle it on. A little brass tag dangled from it but she didn't know what it said.

She shifted back to hands and knees, because sitting like that was uncomfortable, and winced when her tail swayed. It didn't hurt but when the tail moved, the plug rocked inside her. Ellie craned her neck to look over her shoulder. She didn't really want to know but she couldn't keep herself from looking.

The tail was black fur, glossy and soft and curled kind of shyly down beside one of her thighs. A little longer than her forearm, it looked like it belonged right where it was, like it was part of her. When Ellie shifted, it wiggled a little, the plug rocked and she squirmed, starting the whole process over again. She thought of the ears clipped so firmly to her hair, and the paws and the tail and ... let out a hitching sigh, too weary for more tears.

"Milly," Mr. Thomas said firmly, and she looked back up at him. "Pay attention." He had a leash in his hand and Ellie simply bent her head, unaware of the way her tail drooped expressively. The tricky assembly in the plug worked well, and betrayed her feelings to anyone who cared to look.