I wake up curled up on my side in the dark, hole still plugged and mouth gagged. I have slept like this for so many nights that sleep sometimes comes easy despite the discomfort and often pain that I am left feeling. The sun is up and I can see blue sky through the window above me, but I know that I will not be going out unless it is to release my bowels like an animal. The only time I have been allowed to use the toilet is for quick expulsions when it pleases Him and to shower, otherwise He treats me like a dog to be kept off of the furniture and rushed outside to avoid accidents.

This morning I don’t have long to wait before the crate door opens and he nudges as the plug between my cheeks with his foot, tapping it, driving it in a little bit, reminding me that it is there and that my hole belongs to him. I inhale a sharp breath through my nose and start to work on getting to my hands and knees to follow him for my morning enema.

Before allowing me in the bathroom, he encircles my neck with a wide collar—one that spans the full space from my jaw to my shoulders and promotes good posture. In practice it limits my range of movement, means I can’t turn my head or look down, forces me to look slightly upward. It means I can’t see anything that is happening behind me. He has called it jokingly a “cone” before, said he has put it on me because I am a bad pet who won’t leave herself alone.

Now, he nudges me into the bathroom and I go without hesitation and kneel in front of the tub where I know he wants me. I have to pee so badly and I can see the open toilet just inches from me but I know I won’t be allowed. He is never concerned with my needs or comfort, focused only on keeping me usable for him.

I feel as my plug is removed and I wait to feel the nozzle pressing inside, hoping to be let out soon so I can empty myself. In my mind I am there, being allowed a few moments in the sun to empty my body after a long painful night in my crate, when I feel the blunt head of his cock at my hole and he pushes his way all the way in.

I don’t even have time to react before he speaks and says, “As fun as you are to keep as a pet, you make a very convenient toilet… I will continue to use you in this way. What do you think about that, slut?”

I wince as I wait for what inevitably is coming.

I am gagged still so I cannot speak, and just whimper softly around the intrusion and nod softly.

Inside my hole, I feel him soften and feel the hot rush of his piss start to fill my belly. My own bladder still full, I receive His morning piss inside me while staring ahead at the toilet I am not allowed to use—the toilet he has decided I am more convenient than. My stomach gurgles softly before he is finished, and he withdraws.

I clench and wait as he cleans himself up, finishes preparing my enema, and inserts the nozzle into my hole and inflates the bulbs to lock it in. Once it is in, he unclamps it and I feel a rush of warm water start to fill me.

I know now he must start to get ready for his day and so he moves me out of his way so he can use the bathroom, helping me to my feet and then cuffing my wrists together in front of me. I watch numbly as he does so, feeling as my insides lurch with my growing load. He raises my arms up and clips the cuffs to a chain dangling from the ceiling so I am up and out of the way, standing near the wall so he can maneuver around. I am facing the wall and try to focus on my breath and just relax but it is not possible as my belly swells and then sags heavily under the weight of my water.

I hear him in the shower and then the sink, getting ready for his day, meanwhile I am sweaty and know I must stink of his piss since he used me as his toilet. I feel disgusting but it seems that he likes that. He mocks me for it, tells me that this is why I’m not allowed on the furniture, why he doesn’t let me in the house at night, because I stink like an animal.

When my enema is all inside me, I feel him deflate and remove the nozzle and push my largest plug up inside me to help me retain it. I hate this part of the day. I will have to go cook for him like this before I will be allowed to release my enema.

“I would think about fucking you right now, but you’re disgusting…” he comments. He takes my hands down from the ceiling and uncuffs them, and tells me to go wash my hands so I can cook him breakfast.

In the kitchen, I work fast, preparing his food the way he likes it. It is Saturday which means he isn’t going to work and will instead probably have more torment and training for me today. I hate the weekends most of all.

As I put his plate down in front of him, he gestures for me to come close and he takes my gag off and tosses it to the floor by his feet. I know what comes next and as he moves to unzip his pants, I slowly and carefully take my place beneath the table and take his cock into my tired mouth and work him to hardness while he eats his meal. When I hear his fork clatter to the plate I crawl out from under the table and move to the sink in silence.

It’s the same routine. He puts his plate into the sink and I begin to wash it while behind me, he removes my plug and forces his way in and begins to fuck me. I am struggling to complete my task but I am used to this treatment by now and can manage.

“You’re lucky I will even fuck you like this, slut. You smell like piss, you’re stinking up my kitchen like a wet dog.”

As I rush to finish the dishes I breathlessly manage to get out, “Thank you for fucking me, sir. I do not deserve your cock.”

“You’re right, you don’t deserve it.”

I feel his hands on my belly, rubbing and pressing, and I gasp in pain. The urgency I feel to use the toilet is immense but I know nothing will make it that I can empty any faster so I try to breathe through it, but there is no resisting him. By the time he has come inside me, I am crying again and shaking.

Pulling out, he marches me across the house and lets me outside unceremoniously and locks the door. I am quick to go find my spot and release, glad for the reprieve for now.

I’m barely finished when he appears in the garden in front of me and I realize something is different today. Typically he would wait for me to come back to the door, he never comes down to me. I feel a twist of fear in my belly and a gurgle, and clench up to keep from leaking in front of him. Though this would not be the first time he would have seen me empty myself.

“Come here,” he snaps at me to get out of my corner, and I hurry to him even though I know I am even more disgusting than before. Once I am standing before him, he turns me around abruptly and seemingly out of nowhere produces a gag which he affixes to me, plunging the penis portion of it into my mouth, and then a hood which he pulls down over my whole head, plunging me into total darkness and muffling sound. I start to panic because this is new, but there’s nothing to do as I feel him behind me lacing my head and neck into the tight leather garment.

I know better than to panic—what escape is there like this?—but he has never done this to me outside before and I can’t stop myself from starting to freak out. He is shoving me and walking me along the grass, barefoot and nude and unplugged, until I bump into something and stop. He turns me around and pushes me again until I fall forward over something metal. I get the impression we’re inside because the sun stops beating down—the shed?—I’ve never been in the shed.

I don’t have long to wonder about what’s going on because I hear cuffs clicking into place, cuffing my wrists down and before I have a chance to orient myself, he’s strapped my torso down to the bench too. He pulls my legs spread and shackles them down to points and I realize quite quickly I’m fully immobilized.

He doesn’t explain what’s going on but he doesn’t have to. He’s leaving me outside today in what basically amounts to a dog house. I whimper into the hood softly, bracing myself by bearing down, expecting him to plug my hole but it doesn’t come. In fact, he seems to leave and I lay there confused and in the dark. This is the longest my hole has been empty since he brought me here and somehow that has me more uneasy than if he had just plugged me again.

I think he must be gone but then I feel water falling over me, and realize it’s the hose. Not the heavy sprayer, just the regular garden hose and he’s focusing it up between my legs and on my thighs where I’m surely filthy. He says something to me but I can barely hear him with the hood on. Out of nowhere I feel suddenly the mouth of the hose presses against my vacant hole and I wince as I feel the water gurgle and rush over me there. Then the pressure grows and grows and I feel the ring of the hose dip beneath my own ring and I scream behind the hood as I feel the cold hose water rush up my dirty hole like an avalanche. He doesn’t take it out, instead leaves it in just millimeters inside my hole and lets the water flood my bowels as a ferocious cramp engulfs me. I feel his hand slapping my ass abruptly and he says something else then I can’t hear but I know from indoor enemas that when he hits me during he’s telling me to stop squirming. I try but I’m failing. And then the hose withdraws.

I wasn’t terribly full, especially compared to many other enemas I take, but the cramps were among the worst I’ve ever felt. The second the hose is gone, my water comes rushing out, which earns me a harder spank. This ordeal goes on just like this—he wedges the metal ring of the hose past my ring and fills me with a long gush of cold water and then takes it out and watches me fail to hold it. Finally it’s over.

He didn’t plug me before he left, and I’m scared of what that means. Am I going to be in trouble later if my ass is not ready for him?

Laying there I realize I still have water inside me that hasn’t come out yet, and I hold it as long as I can, out of habit and uncertainty, but finally I feel it dribble out of my hole and down between my legs, and all I can hope is it’s clear. It happens a couple of more times, more water leaking out of my hole.

I don’t know how long I’m alone before I become aware of hands on my ass and startle, flinching away from the touch. He shouldn’t be home yet. Who is this? The hands pull my cheeks apart, and I can’t tell—is this Him? He isn’t speaking. Not that I could really hear him anyway.

I feel the damp blunt head of a cock pressing between my cheeks and I freeze in horror—I was not plugged to be kept open and pliant and ready. Any lube that was inside me has been washed away by the enema and the hose. And the cock does not feel slick with lube, just slightly damp, and it rubs up and down and back and forth over my hole, nudging it once, twice, and then without a moment of hesitation it spears deep inside me in a single, ruthless motion until I can feel the slap of balls between my cheeks.

Behind the hood, behind the gag, I am screaming. The pain is immense and complete. I am being split in two, and I can feel the intrusion through every inch of my torso. My body is tensed and seized up. I am breathing hard and fast, desperately trying to relax against the cock I am full of, but instead I’m groaning, broken and muffled through the gag and the hood.

As suddenly as it violated me, the cock—the man behind me—starts to move, to sodomize my tight, unlubricated hole unceremoniously. I am bound but I am shaking, thighs trembling as I fight to endure the overwhelming pain between my legs, inside my body, in my guts. It doesn’t stop—he doesn’t stop. It just goes on and on and on, until all at once I feel him come.

One more thrust and another, hard slaps of his hips into my ass and he holds my hips as he lets go, as he comes inside me. I know it isn’t Him—he’s at work, but also he’s never fucked me quite like this this. I wince through his orgasm, waiting for it to be over, but he stays where he is.

And I know what’s coming.

My face is wet with tears when I feel the heat of his piss spread into my body. He’s holding my cheeks spread when he finally pulls out and try as I desperately do, I can’t clench and keep it inside. Instead, I feel it dribbling out of my ass and down between my cheeks and thighs.

And just like that, he’s gone, and I’m alone.