"All right, doggie bitch," Larry said, tugging Lisa past Faith and toward the last person sitting at the table. "Bark hello to Roland Rogers. Bark hello nice, mutt, because Roland is the mayor of the whole town."
Everything they did was designed to break her will a little more, destroy another fragment of her self-respect. Now Larry was talking to her as though she really was a simple-minded animal. Roland Rogers, seventy years old but still fit looking, smiled down on her like a proud grandfather. Then he pulled down his pants and leaned down over his chair, presenting her with his wrinkled, hairy ass.
"Kiss my asshole hello, you filthy slut," he said, his voice still sounding pleasant in spite of the terrible things he said. "Stick your slutty face to my ass and plant those sexy lips right on my asshole."
"Woof!" Lisa barked forlornly, and she leaned forward to the task.
Roland Rogers was a clean man, and it wasn't until Lisa had her nose stuck between his ass cheeks that the base smell of his ass struck her. She recoiled then, wanting to throw up. Larry jerked on her leash, strangling her, and Lisa knew he wanted her to hurry up and do what the mayor asked.
She pushed her pretty face between Roland's thin ass checks. The crinkly hair between his loose buns scratched and tickled her face unmercifully. It seemed like she had to travel a thousand miles through the dank darkness of Roland's ass crack before her nose touched bottom. Then her lips brushed a bulging pucker that seemed like a tiny, rough-lipped mouth. Lisa knew that she had found the mayor's asshole.
Another orgasm raced through Lisa's squirming young body as she kissed the mayor's asshole. It made her raise her own ass high into the air and wiggle it back and forth as her pussy cream dribbled down her silky thighs. All she could smell was sweat and shit, and the taste on her lips was so gross that there was only one thing it could be.
"The whore's Frenching my asshole!" Roland proclaimed in his best speech making voice. "The slutty tramp's licking out my asshole!"
"Dirty Lisa," Faith chided from behind the squirming, ass-sucking girl. "How could you ever expect me to kiss you when you go round planting your lips on men's dirty assholes?"
Lisa moaned at the depth of her desecration and came again, her ass wiggling back and forth wildly. A surge of pain cut through her as Faith poked her ass with her fork, and Lisa completely lost control, sprawling out helplessly on the floor and grinding her silky thighs together. She clamped her lips tighter against Roland's dirty asshole, and sucked hard and washed it with her tongue.
"Pull her away or I'm going to cum!" Roland bellowed, clamping his old ass checks so tightly around Lisa's face that the sexy blonde slave thought she was going to pass out. "You know this isn't how I want to cum! Pull the dirty whore's mouth off my whole."
Larry jerked on Lisa's leash so hard that the girl tumbled over backward, her head snapping back to hit the dining room floor with a thud. It felt for a moment as though her neck had been broken and her windpipe crushed, but she still rolled back over to her hands and knees when Larry tugged on her leash. She followed him like a docile puppy to her place at the end of the table.
"Here's your seat, bitch Lisa," Larry said, pulling out her chair and then giving an upward tug on her leash. "Up, bitch, up onto your chair."
Lisa moaned in shame at what her husband was showing her. It wasn't a real chair at all, just another cruel implement of bondage. The arms were wired wooden stocks, and when Lisa crawled up into the chair, Larry pulled her legs wide so that her knees would fit in them. With her knees pulled wide and the chain still holding her ankles together, Lisa's legs looked like pretzels. The position pulled her cunt and ass cheeks wide open, so that everyone else sitting at the table could have a clear view of her fuck-holes.
Larry pulled Lisa's leather-bound hands forward and hooked them under the edge of the table. Under her arms, at just the right level to catch Lisa across her stiffened nipples, was a line of needle-sharp spears, of metal. It was as though someone had taken the head from a rake and sharpened the tips to razor sharpness. If Lisa leaned forward more than a few inches, the sharp spikes would be skewered into her tender tits.
"Now you chow down, dog bitch," Larry ordered sternly, and he slapped bis wife across her face for good measure. "Eat up all that yummy food."
"Oh, Larry!" Lisa cried when she saw what was piled up in front of her. The others were feasting on delicacies. And she was getting this. "Oh, Larry, please don't make me!"
It was dog food of some kind, piled up in a greasy, lumpy mess in a big bowl. Around the side of the bowl were printed the words Pet-Bitch. Lisa cried helplessly at the sight of it, her sexy body racked with the force of her sobbing. It was slowly dawning on her that there was no limit to the stupid humiliations and tortures they could inflict on her. They could always find a way to push her a little deeper into the muck.
"Eat it up, cunt?" Larry hissed. "Or you'll get a fucking lot worse."
Lisa looked up at her husband, her face tearstained and pitiful. There was no trace of mercy in his handsome features, and the domesticated young beauty knew that she was going to have to do what he wanted. And with her hands denied her there was only one way she could.
Her face was an inch away from the bowl when the sharpened spikes bit into her tits. Lisa yelped at the sudden, biting pain, jerking back away from the needles. She could feel the eyes of everyone else at the table burning into her, waiting to see if she was so dominated that she would hurt herself to follow the degrading commands of her husband.
Steeling herself against the pain, she bent forward again.
Needles pierced her silky tit flesh, sending sharp lightning bolts of pain through her tits. Needles knifed into her perky nipples, and the pain was awful. But Lisa leaned over farther, and stuck her face into the gooey mess of dog food.
"You've really got a special one here," John Bates said with a note of envy. "She'll do anything."
"Yeah, I think Lisa's a bitch that might take the whole trip," Larry agreed. He opened his pants and started jacking on his long, hard cock. "Get your face out of that dish, you smelly mutt bitch."
Lisa couldn't hear her husband's words over the din of debauchery and desecration that was playing through her head. The taste of the dog food was so foul that she gagged on every mouthful, but she was so hungry that she was slobbering all over herself as she wolfed it down.
Her face was smeared with the gravy, her nose and cheeks and chin painted a dirty brown. All she could think about was how utterly she was degrading herself for the amusement of the other people at the table. She was nothing but a whore now, and a low variety of that, existing only for the sexual entertainment of others.
"Straighten up, cunt!" Larry roared, jerking back on a handful of Lisa's golden hair. "When I tell you to do something, you better fucking do it!"
"I…" Lisa didn't know what to say. She was tapped in a hazy world of pain and shame and excitement, and it was hard for her to put words together. "Please forgive me."
"I was going to give you a treat," her husband said with a shrug. "Now I think maybe you don't deserve it."
"Treat?" Lisa echoed hollowly. She looked down at her tits and was surprised to see only tiny spots of blood speckling her pristine tit flesh. The needles were so sharp that they had left hardly a wound behind. "Please, give me treat. Give doggie bitch a treat."
"Well, okay," Larry said, jacking on his dripping cock as fast as he could. "Here's some topping for your dinner."
Larry's cock jerked with every plume of jism it splattered into the dog dish. The slimy white cum only halfway soaked into the grimy brown dog food, slithery snakes of jism congealing on the gooey surface. Lisa watched with mixed arousal and disgust as her husband emptied his balls all over the dog food.