A Continuation of It's Report

It's just going to dive right back in from it's previous report a few days ago. After it's ordeal in the tub came the prospect of cleaning up. It was coated in a viscous layer of foulness. It neglected to mention that during it's torture it had lost control of it's bladder, and the strong smell of urine mixed with excrement permeated the room.

Before giving itself the luxury of really cleaning up it was to clean the tub. This was of course with the knowledge that it wouldn't really get very clean as long as a sniveling, filthy slave was on it's hands and knees inside of it. The idea was more humiliation if that's the right word, while it was so filthy it might as well complete the slave package with some hard, ultimately futile labor.

After emptying the tub and getting on it's hands and knees to start scrubbing with soap, water and at first it's bare hands, it's shit-saturated (pardon it's language for alliterative appeal) hair fell down around it's face, and it promptly threw up all over itself. See, everything else had been terrible beyond belief but what put it over the edge was the sight of chunks of excrement tangled in it's hair, brown contaminated water dripping over it's face, particularly onto it's mouth (it worried about getting, say, an E.Coli infection, it's been a month though and it's still healthy).

It pushed the solid excrement and vomit over the drain and took the shower head, blasting the pile with hot water. The water teased it so badly, as it was violently shivering still, cold and wet and filthy like a slave should be, yet the warmth of the shower water was so close that steam wafted tantalizingly around it. Master had set forth that it may use only cold water to clean itself.

Soon the waste was mostly down the drain. Now taking a sponge with most of the bulk having been removed with it's bare hands, it began to be more through. It must say it is proud of how clean it actually managed to get the tub in many areas despite the work being only a charade to make it feel like a slave. except it couldn't truly get clean as it was still dripping filth onto the floor and leaving brown footprints (knee-prints?) with it's knees and elbows at it crawled around.

It stood up for it's shower, dreading the ice cold water. This was awful, a torment all on it's own, because it desperately wanted to get clean, washing itself repeatedly and being unable to rush the shower since it was so filthy. See, normally it can jump into the water and get wet, lathering the soap before turning the water on again to rinse off, minimizing the cold. It never really got that physically filthy, as it doesn't roll around in dirt or anything all day, it's not sports season and it changes it's clothes frequently. It actually rather commends Master for his, perhaps inadvertent, environmentalism. It had always before been a big fan of long hot showers that wasted water tremendously.

But this time it had to really get clean, it had to scrub and wash it's hair and rinse repeatedly and after what must have been forty five minutes it was numb from cold, perhaps hypothermic judging by the fact that it had ceased shivering. But it was clean, and it turned in for the night, allowing itself the one luxury of shutting the window to it's room. Not that it made it any warmer.

It realized the next morning that it had missed all three of it's daily spankings the day before! It had been so preoccupied preparing it's torture it had forgotten. So that morning, which was off from school, it gave itself not three more spankings to bring it's total up to six, but rather 600 strokes of the hairbrush to make up for the three two hundred stroke spankings it had missed, plus two hundred strokes of the clothes-hangar. The hangar had been twisted up and cut into a vile implement that left it's rear shredded and bloody, having already been battered by the hairbrush. It normally doesn't cry a lot, but with the torment the night before leaving it already vulnerable it was very quickly reduced to a sniveling wreck.

That day at two hour intervals it would be spanked three times again this time with a short hardwood branch with the bark skillfully removed by a little neighbor boy who'd had a crush on it several years ago. It had wondered what he was trying to show, giving it a sturdy piece of wood about a foot long, and had stashed it in the closet. It makes a wonderful substitute for a cane. All three times it was sobbing by the end. It felt like an elephant being broken by harsh beatings and starvation, not that it had been deliberately starving itself though now in hindsight it hadn't been eating very much of anything during that two days it was home alone and punishing itself.

By the time it's parents drove up late in the night it was dreadfully tired but rest was no option. It was holding a cold enema fighting the cramps and fullness, clenching with all it's might to keep the water in. It was grateful for their arrival, and ran to the bathroom to expel and put on a robe, turning the shower on to give the impression they'd arrived home and their perfectly normal teenage girl (well it is eighteen, of legal age, otherwise it wouldn't be here) was in the restroom taking a shower.

As the month dragged on it was continuously punishing itself whenever at home with free time. One thing it had discovered a while ago that had intrigued was a certain type of pornography. It of course has not watched very much pornography at all, none since it's ownership, but in it's exploration of BDSM it came across quite a bit. One category was dubiously called "fucking machine" and featured slaves wound and immobile, often told not to orgasm, being fucked by large dildos attached to poles attached a machine that pumped methodically in and out. The girl would struggle against her restraints (usually totally immobilized by them) and whimper but the machine didn't care, it never wavered, never got tired, cared nothing for the girl's pleasure.

It wanted to simulate this. So it commissioned a friend from wood-shop to make a conical wooden dowel with a soft tapered end, citing a science project t was considering. At home it coated the dowel in thick plastic and for good measure put a lubricated condom over it. It certainly looked the part of the machine's member. It affixed this to a metal handle. The end result was short enough to be held by it while still being inserted, but was rather large in diameter. It used it's metronome from band and set a steady tempo, with a small, constant, almost imperceptible stringendo (increasing tempo). No matter what, it would keep with the metronome, for ten minutes.

For a while it went well. Masturbation seems to be almost a turn-off for it, so even while being almost constantly aroused thanks to it's lack of orgasms, it still takes a long time for it to reach the edge at first. Soon however it would be fighting the coming orgasm, repeating "Master, master, oh master." under it's breath and closing it's eyes. It tried to keep it's mind off the mechanical pumping. It had duct-taped it's feet to the floor so it's legs would remain pinned down and widely spread, with knees in the air as if undergoing a pelvic exam. It found itself moving it's hips with the motion of the member. It's rear lifted off the cold bathroom floor and plopped down again. The mechanical ticking of the metronome rang it's mind. It was so on edge it was afraid it would defy master and orgasm, but it's willpower was strong. It lasted eight minutes before stopping for about thirty minutes to recollect itself, panting and out of breath from battling the urge to cum. It started again until the full ten minutes were up, dripping wet. This is not an experience it cares to repeat, but it thought master might like to toy with the idea, or not, it is truly up to him.

There was of course a lot to happen over the month that it is unable to say, so it encourages readers to ask specific questions so it may fill in the many gaps! For a while before it's computer broke down it was in the two hundreds range for readers, it hopes to get all these readers back.

Now for a while it has taken to doing almost all of it's defecation and urination outside whenever possible. It has also taken to stripping totally naked any time it uses the restroom through it forgets if master ever specifically ordered it to do so.

Anyway, this is all well and go, but something it tried quite recently on an oddly warm day (most people still wore sweaters, but it was above freezing and fairly sunny). It went off into the forest to go hiking alone a local river. As soon as it got a little off the road, it set it's stuff down and removed all it's clothing. It was cold and it had some legitimate fear. Discovery was one, but another very real fear was sexual assault. It surmised however, that if someone wanted to rape it they would do so without regards to it's state of dress.

It felt so vulnerable and cold, yet excited. Being naked outdoors is the most vulnerable one can get. Leaves and grass brushing against bare skin, visible to anyone passing by, the wind constantly ending shivers through you. It hikes for three miles and back, returning to the site of it's clothes as it was getting dark. It is not sure what it was trying to accomplish. It feels perhaps that a slave should be more comfortable out of clothes than in clothes, or at least more used to being naked. If it lived with Master, a fantasy in the highest echelon of bliss, it is sure it would be naked all the time, probably kept on a leash and used constantly, if one catches it's meaning.

With that it will end, as it mentioned earlier please leave comments to humiliate it if nothing else, do ask specific questions so it can give more information as the information here is quite scarce. It needs punishment ideas and general tasks also.