Nature's Call

"Really, Nessie, after all that whining about pee... talking about pissing yourself, dancing on your little stumps, begging and begging, and now you can't go? You weren't lying to us, just trying to get outside so you could run around, were you?"

After all her exposure, humiliation after humiliation, Vanessa herself could hardly believe how difficult it was to let loose in front of her audience. She needed to pee. Desperately needed to, but every time she squatted backwards something inside her clamped down and refused to let the liquid loose.

Part of it... she was trying to void herself... in her own backyard. Her eyes flicked to the neighbor's windows again and again. Her backyard was decent sized, and concealed by a nice wooden privacy fence, but it wasn't nearly private enough for the awkward, humiliating doggie display she was expected to perform.

Just as importantly, more importantly, were the eyes she knew were on her - Carter and Brand. And, even worse than them, a third onlooker to her indignity.

Carter's camera.

Not a little cell phone camera, but a real recording device. Bought especially for her, he had told her proudly. It was fresh charged, and fresh from the box. The men had made quite a scene of going over the features together, trying them out on the black woman - making her put on a little 'dog show' inside the house on her four stumps - her tightly bound limbs that doubled back on themselves. She had, already exhausted physically and mentally, protesting as much as she could safely, gone through the whole gamut of doggie tricks.

Some off-camera whipping gotten her started. Got her started... barking, when she initially refused. Got her started panting. And broken down mentally and emotionally, no longer able to fight, having no options, except more whippings and beatings - it had gotten her obeying.

Barking. Panting, tongue lolling out for the camera. Drooling.

Panting wasn't actually that hard. Vanessa's back and adductors were so sore, so overworked, and she was so beaten that having her jaw hang slack when it wasn't being used was one muscle less to worry about. She didn't even notice she was doing it after a bit.

And it was time for more exercise, on top of her exhaustion. More fun games for the men, with their brown bitch as entertainment.

'Fetch' had sent her painfully stomping all around the house - breasts flopping and slapping and dragging underneath her, chasing after a bumpy pink dildo. Her ass set high in the air by virtue of her long, strong thighs, Brand had tossed the bubblegum pink phallus and Vanessa had pounded off after it time and again. Chasing it hadn't been as hard as turning, she found out. She hated turning - a long, laborious process of back and forth shifting of her hips and shoulders that burned her muscles like crazy, muscles that had no business being used so often and so hard.

She fetched, though, and brought the dildo back, clamped between her teeth, her nose flaring to suck down air. Until she could waddle back to her master - to Brand, and drop it at his feet. Then her jaw could hang again, she could pant again, and get down real air, and get a pat to her head.

"Arf, arf," with her tongue hanging out, and a feeling of absolutely crushing shame in her heart, had been her response to his pats.

'Beg'.... Vanessa, hesitantly at first, but then... licking, sucking at the dildo in Brand's hand... whining, rubbing her face on it, she... she didn't know where her actions came from. Where her instincts came from. But she had begged, begged well, begged like a - a nigger. And while Carter filmed Brand had stuck the dildo into her wagging, hairy snatch - just like she had begged for.

He hadn't turned it on, or fucked her with it. Just stuck it inside her, to rest alongside her buttplug tail. Filling her. Pressing on her full bladder, reminding her of the processed she was holding in. Another concern that she had been studiously avoiding, coming to head.

And finally, after all that, it was the 'roll over' had been her real undoing. With a deep breath, and a whirling feeling in her tummy - a little tilt-a-whirl spin, Vanessa had deliberately lost her balance on one half of her body, and teetered and flopped over onto her back. Facing up. Her breasts flattened and her front completely exposed. Her face right alongside her bush and her belly and her breasts, all together, while her stumpy bound limbs waved, unable to conceal anything. Only adding to her feeling of helpless exposure. After a moment of nasty comments about her body, her sweaty state, a little tap with a foot to her dildo-filled pussy, she was told to get back up.

That was it. She was too tired. It was impossible, however hard she tried. The amusement the Carter and Brand had gotten from her flapping and rocking and squealing, trying to right herself sent her to tears. She hadn't made it back up, or even back onto her stomach, despite all her flailing and her true, hardest best efforts.

Eventually, disappointed with her, berating her all the while, Brand had taken the dildo out, tossed it with a hard, wet splat on the floor, and set her back on all fours. But only after Vanessa had finally panicked and with wide eyes cried out that she was going to pee herself.

She had been going to. Again. She would have peed all over her carpet for the second time.

Still, once righted, Brand and Carter waited skeptically while Vanessa stomped and stamped her nubby limbs in desperation, trying not to fall off her precarious dancing stubs right onto her dark little face.

She could tell that the men were trying hard to keep straight faces while she, with all her heart, pleaded with them she needed to use the bathroom. It was the beer, she said loudly, her voice cracking, nodding along vigorously to her own justification for needing to release her bladder.

They finally relented, and opened the patio door. Outside. Not the bathroom. Not a human bathroom. Outdoors, in the backyard.

Vanessa had quickly, without thinking, her brown nipples dragging, scrambled out. Almost falling again on the jump over the sliding door track, she had taken the chance to pee on the grass rather than on the floor of her home. She scrambled out, camera following her, and squatted...

And she looked at Brand. And Carter. And the Camera.

And something inside her clamped down. She couldn't go.

Still, minutes later, every time she thought she had calmed herself to her release, she seized up.

"Fuckin' worthless thing. You'd think she wants to piss herself in the house. Not even housetrained. Just like a puppy." Carter kicked Vanessa in her brown ass, causing her to yelp. She almost lurched forward, but was simply too worn out. She just took it. His next boot caught her square in the cunt. Vanessa suppressed a scream, not wanting... the neighbors, god the neighbors! Vanessa looked up at the windows again, even as she braced herself for another. She could feel it coming, hear the subtle shift of the grass behind her. She didn't know, if she got hit again - another blow to her swollen, now tenderized and bruised pussy, or even worse if he hit her tail... she didn't know if she could suppress a yell again. She had to try. The black executive squeezed her eyes shut, clenched her teeth, and wriggled her heinie to try to position herself for a glancing blow, if possible.

"Stop that," Brand said almost absently.

And just like that he saved Vanessa. After a moment of waiting, waiting to see if she'd get kicked anyway, she expelled the air she had been holding. Relief, uncontrollable relief and shameful gratitude washed over the bound black woman.

"You're too soft on the nigger," Carter growled, "She can't even piss right, thinks she's too good for this, and you're coddlin' her." He spat, and something wet hit Vanessa's round ass.

Brand walked around to Vanessa's front, and kneeled.

"Are you tired, girl?" He asked calmly, quietly. He touched Vanessa's hair, smoothing it behind her ears and out of her eyes. Then Vanessa's hanging breasts, running his strong hands over them, stroking them affectionately.

Vanessa looked up, and down. And nodded. Something unknotted in her back.

"Y-yes, Sir," She whispered. She was so tired. So hurt.

"Yes, Daddy," He corrected her, his fingers smoothly drifting down to Vanessa's nipples, tugging them lightly, rolling them.

Vanessa's eyes shifted to the side. She breathed in, and swallowed, before expelling a quiet, broken, "Yes, Daddy."

"I'm... I'm tired..." A little tear rolled down Vanessa's cheek.

"Do you really need to pee?"

God, yes. Vanessa was bursting. "Yes. I really, really need to pee," The black woman licked her thick lips, "... Daddy."

"I know, girl," Brand inserted his thumb into Vanessa's mouth, "I know you do," She hesitated only a moment before she sealed her lips around the thick digit, and started sucking.

"It's okay. I'll help you," The white man assured Vanessa, "Just relax. I want you to let your arms rest, okay? Let yourself go. I'll make sure you don't fall." His thumb slowly withdrew, and popped out of Vanessa's mouth. Strong hands gripped her shoulders and encouraged her wings to drop to her sides. Her hot face and chest were gently lowered, slowly, all the way to the cool, fresh smelling grass and dirt beneath her. Her ass remained high, high up in the air, with Carter behind it. Vanessa sniffled.

Brand stroked her hair again, "Now I'm going to lift up your tail. Don't be scared. I'm just going to help make sure you don't get any pee on it."

He leaned over Vanessa's semi-prone form. The sun was blocked out by Brand's thighs, a little shelter formed in between his legs as he leaned over her and gripped her tail, pulling it up and out of the way. His other hand snaked around her tight stomach and gently squeezed... stroked the smooth, dark skin of her belly.

She knew what he was doing, of course, and how completely humiliating it was. Treating her like a child. Or worse. Soothing her like he would a skittish animal. But... it was better than Carter's solution. And it was, somehow, relaxing her body. Undoing some of the maddening hurt that was cramping her insides, and her muscles. Vanessa's chest rose and fell in an easy rhythm underneath Brand...

"Now I want you to pee, okay Sweetie? Pee for Daddy and Uncle Carter. Show your uncle what a good pee-er you are." Brand stroked her stomach once more, and gently pulled and pushed her tail in and out of her sphincter, just a bit. That was it.

Finally, Release.

"You've certainly got a way with them animals," Carter's voice said behind Vanessa, as warm liquid gushed out of her, splashing into a little puddle between her rich, bound brown thighs. "Me? I think a right beating would have gotten the same results outta the nigger. Worked well enough for her in the house, didn't it? Stupid thing pissed all over her carpet."

Vanessa whimpered, and buried her face in the ground, trying to shut out the awful words. Brand kept masturbating her tail, gentle pulls and pushes, and his other hand climbed up her stomach to her breasts again, squeezing...

"There's a girl. It's okay. You're doing such a good job peeing. Let it all out."

A few, last spurts hit the ground, before the ebony businesswoman was finally drained.

"Cheryl?" Brand's voice greeted her secretary above her head.

Cheryl! With dexterity and strength that Vanessa had no idea she still possessed she hopped back up onto her front stumps, teetered a moment, and looked around desperately for an escape. If Cheryl saw her like...!

"No, I'm not busy at all! I'm happy to hear from you."

... Brand was on his phone. The tight feeling of utter desperation left Vanessa. He looked down at her, and winked. Relief was quickly replaced by...

Cheryl had... called, not her, but Brand? Brand's cell? What could she possibly want with...

Brand laughed, and moved a short distance away, turning his back. "... knew she was gone today, yes..." Vanessa found herself waddling forward curious and... somehow... "...not a coincidence that I am too... no, it's okay, it's totally fine for you to call me..."

Somehow, kind of...

Jealous.

Not - not that she wanted...!

But it was just that... Cheryl, she had seen Brand and her leave together, twice! And they were both gone on the same day. Yet she still - the little fucking hussy! What was she doing?! And why was Brand laughing? She was just a... an assistant! Vanessa's secretary!

"Come on, bitch. Brent don't need you growlin' down there while he's workin' his magic." Carter gave Vanessa's tail a hard tap with his shoe, prompting her back to her surreal reality. And 'growling' - she hadn't been...! "Back inside with you."

Brand shot Vanessa a dark look, "That's nothing you need to worry about. I'll explain, let's say, tomorrow? If..."

Carter grabbed a handful of Vanessa's hair and half-led, half-dragged her indoors, while Brand wrapped up his phone conversation.