Status Symbols

A little silver plaque on the leather collar read 'BITCH' in all capitals.

It wasn't the first time that Vanessa had worn the label - it came with being a woman who could assert herself in a man's world. And although it was always an insult, it was... it had been an insult that signified her power, her ability to bring men down, to play the game better than them. It had been a last resort of lesser men, who couldn't handle being shown up by a woman.

This was the first time that Vanessa's heart felt that other meaning. A female dog. Less than human. And less than male, rather than more - rather than the insult of an injured male. Brand buckled the collar around the back of her neck. It was a thick collar, heavy, and it weighed Vanessa down, made her want to bury her head.

The thought, unbidden, unwanted, flashed in her head. Bury her head, on all fours. Brand's bitch. Rod's bitch. Every man's bitch. Collared and -

Brand finished by snapping a sturdy metal chain to the front of Vanessa's humiliating new neck accessory. It weighed her down further.

Collared. And leashed.

The back of Brand's fingertips, his nails, tenderly stroked Vanessa's cheek.

"There... isn't that better?"

No. No, it felt awful. And although Vanessa felt nothing but awful since coming under Brand's control, she wasn't dull to the pain. Each new element, each new way he found to fuck or humiliate her was maddening. It made her spirit squirm in pain, Vanessa could feel it inside her. It hurt. Her mental pain physically hurt her stomach and chest, twisting and knotting and stabbing - bees, needles, stabbing her insides.

Vanessa didn't say that.

"Yes, Sir." The proud black woman looked into Brand's eyes. "Better."

She had bigger things to worry about than the collar, however much it pained her.

Brand smiled at Vanessa, and patted her head affectionately. Vanessa couldn't read his mind like he could hers, but she knew it was a deliberate move, giving her that pat, like a good dog.

"Good girl," Brand looked happy.

He continued sorting through the sex toys that had been dumped all over Vanessa's furniture, making piles. An armchair for dildos, a couch with separate cushions for clothing, restraints, and fetish gear, a coffee table for miscellaneous, painful looking items. The big, fake horse cock was in the wrong place. Brand casually tossed it across the room to flop heavily onto the chair, dwarfing all more reasonable dildos with its perverse majesty.

"B-Brand..." Brand paused, his back to Vanessa. She couldn't stand another minute around Brand's new arsenal. Couldn't think about what he would use, and how. "Can I make dinner now? I'm done putting the groceries away." Vanessa was more than that, she had already started her preparations when Brand called from the kitchen to attach the humiliating accessory to her elegant neck.

Brand turned. He did not look happy. He slowly walked over to Vanessa. She slowly backed away. It wasn't a real escape attempt though, they both knew that. Her feet moved on their own, edging away, shuffling away from the big white man staring her down.

He didn't move quickly. He slowly reached, and gripped Vanessa's chain leash high up - where it met her collar.. He pulled. Not a yank. An inexorable pull downwards. Vanessa followed his hand. He began to bend. So did Vanessa. He began to crouch. She began to kneel. He pulled more, until she was bent over, until she got on all fours.

"Master." Brand said. Firm. Calm. The leashed colored woman didn't meet Brand's eyes.

"Yes... Sir. Sir, can I please make dinner for you?" Brand let go of Vanessa's leash. Relief slowly... she prepared to stand -

Brand seized her face, hard, in one hand. He pressed her cheeks against her teeth and pulled forward until the black woman's noble features were a mashed, scrunched fish face. His other hand reached inside her unbuttoned blouse and gripped one breast. He pulled firmly down from the base of her large, hanging brown orb, pulling all the way to the tip. He let go and started again, pulling firmly from the base to the tip. Milking her.

Vanessa whimpered through her deformed, protruding lips.

"Master." Brand's voice had hardly changed since the first time. Master... Brand milked her again. Her cheeks ached. She shouldn't have called him 'Brand' - stupid! Now she...

"M-maffter," Vanessa **** out, wincing. Brand didn't let go. He started milking her tit again, painfully. He twisted her nipple. "Maffser!" Vanessa repeated, louder, insistently, looking at Brand. "Maffster! 'Inner? P-pleeff?!"

Brand finally let the panting black woman go, pushing her head roughly to the side before standing.

"In a moment. Stay right there."

Brand took a step back. Vanessa shifted one knee, not... not intending to move, to go anywhere, but Brand gave her a stern look anyway. "Stay!" He firmly commanded. Vanessa opened her mouth, to argue, to tell him she hadn't been trying to move. That he didn't need to bark at her.

That... that she'd stay. Fuck. Fucking pathetic. She shut her mouth again.

Brand searched around the couch, where the restraints lay waiting to be used.

"MrrrMMM! MrrrM!" Vanessa screamed uselessly into her gag, and thrashed. Tried to thrash. It didn't work. She could rock and shift and twitch. That was the extent of her movement.

A leather sheathe that went from mittens to past her elbows completely restricted the movement of her hands and arms. A spreader bar **** her feet wide apart, kept even her buttocks parted. Her chain leash was looped around and around the bar restraining her ankles, drawing her feet up toward her shoulders, doubling her over.

The mature black woman's eyes rolled in terror. Even at her worst, at Brand's worst, she had some mobility. Some... some option, even if she hadn't used it. The illusion that she could run, or fight, if things became bad enough.

Not anymore. She had felt it, when Brand had started restraining her, but had told herself it wasn't any worse than what she had been through. It was worse. Vanessa felt she was going mad. Didn't feel it. She knew it. If she couldn't move soon, couldn't have that, she would go insane. It was panic. Sheer panic telling her to flee, begging her to run, electrifying her brain with a signal that she simply wasn't physically capable of responding to. It wouldn't accept that. It pushed her harder, irrationally telling her to move, to move her feet.

She tried. She had to try. She kicked her legs like she could run. She bucked and rolled and strained with all her might.

Brand chuckled.

"You really don't like this, do you?" With a twitch of his strong arm Brand flicked her sore, puffy cunt with his riding crop again.

"MRRRMPH!" Vanessa screamed uselessly into her gag, and thrashed. Tried to thrash. It didn't work.

Brand studied her. Looked into her eyes. "It's really messing with you, being out of control isn't it?"

"Which means you still thought you had some control. So you still thought you were in control of your body when you fucked that little man in the basement of a sex shop, did you? When he told you those things about black women, and you fucked him until you came?" Brand paused, and smiled. "How interesting."

What Brand was saying... it wasn't like that. Was it? No. But... it was a little true. Just a little true. A little bit.

Brand set down the fiberglass riding crop by Vanessa's tear stained face. He seized her spreader bar in both hands, holding it tight, preventing Vanessa from moving. His face drifted low. Vanessa was spread wide enough that her vaginal lips were parted. Brand took advantage, and lightly kissed her abused labia. Then a kiss to the other side. And he licked. He stayed close for a minute, peering intently at her vagina.

"Very interesting. Like this I can actually see your clitoris unhooding itself." He kissed her flower again, firmly but not roughly. Not engaging in oral sex. Just playing with the black woman. An amateur scientist at work, experimenting. "Fascinating. It's subtle, but it's swelling right in front of my eyes. I guess it was trying to hide from the crop before, huh? "

With Brand's physical **** finally giving way to his sick, experimental sexual **** Vanessa was able to calm herself, just slightly. She held still, a frightened mouse, trying hard to keep the awful panic at bay. The pain when Brand flicked her sensitive female parts was awful. The panic, being unable to do anything about it, was far worse.

Without the crop threatening her parts she could... could grasp back at sanity, hold on. But barely. It was the restraints that were really hurting her, driving her mad. She bucked uselessly.

Brand looked at Vanessa. They looked into each others eyes. His voice and eyes were calm.

"Pain isn't what makes you cum?" He lowered his head, breathing hotly onto Vanessa's responsive hole.

"Everything else seems to."

"Nnnph..." Vanessa whimpered, and shook her head. It... wasn't like that.

Brand looked back down at her cunt. He lightly touched the lip of her swollen labia. Vanessa could feel it twitch.

"Yes."

He slipped a finger into her hole. Vanessa's eyes rolled around wildly, making her own world spin - making her nauseous with their own erratic movement, as the lights and the ceiling and Brand's face shifted and whirled. She was losing it again. She needed... needed to... move. To breathe. To talk, to think, to stretch, to crawl, to bend, to -

"Would you like the gag out of your mouth?"

Vanessa sucked in a lungful of air, right through her wide nostrils. Her eyes found focus in Brand's words.

The gag.

Off.

Y-yes! More... more than anything. One less restraint. And - the gag! The horrible, round red thing making her unable to speak; that was making her jaw cramped and wide and unable to swallow properly and unable to express herself except for moans or groans. Her eyes sparkled and locked with Brand's - crying, screaming, 'Yes! Yes yes yes!'

"Mmmphph! Ymph Ymph Ymph!" Vanessa awkwardly humped Brand's finger to the best of her ability and nodded enthusiastically.

Brand pet through the hairs of her pussy and looked down at Vanessa. His handsome gray eyes crinkled with a little smile. They were, for a moment, kind and affectionate. "There's a girl. Okay." Brand's hands floated forward, going around the side of Vanessa's head. She lifted, accommodating him to the best of her meager ability. He paused. Vanessa's stomach dropped. Please! "No screaming now, understand?" Brand looked at her seriously.

Anything! Yes, no screaming. Okay. No screaming, Vanessa. No screaming. She nodded. No screaming. Okay. She nodded.

Brand laughed. A real laugh, at her. Her head bobbing desperation. Vanessa flushed, ashamed. Deeply ashamed. But she needed that gag, that fucking gag off. She nodded again, almost deliberately comically now. Nod nod nod nod. Brand laughed a little more. Vanessa smiled. Yes, laugh, good. Nod nod. Good. Please, the gag. Laugh. Vanessa was funny. She humped the air, and flexed her vaginal opening. A funny, horny bitch. Look at how funny the black woman was! Nod nod, flex, squeeze, hump. Look at her hump. No, she wouldn't scream. She would nod and twitch her pussy. Please, the gag. Please. Please please. The gag. No more. Please please please.

"Whew! I never would have thought to see you like that a couple days ago."

Vanessa stopped humping and twitching her vagina and nodding comically. Her pride... whatever was left of it recoiled, further wounded. Bent over double, ass in the air, the nearly naked negress was absolutely still again. But, even without her overacting nodding and bobbing amusing Brand, his strong white hands went around the back of Vanessa's head and undid her gag. He lifted, slowly... peeling it off her spit-soaked cheeks, releasing her... and finally, like a dream, the wide red rubber ball hung in her thick lips for a moment, then popped out of her mouth.

Vanessa sucked in air, gasped her first real breath since being gagged, and resisted the urge to scream.

She swallowed, and flexed her jaw, and breathed. Brand studied her face.

"Better?"

Vanessa had almost forgotten her other restraints, with the thought of getting her mouth free occupying her being, her soul for the span of a minute or two. She needed more. But she nodded. Better.

She realized that she could talk. She hadn't dared yet, trying to keep her screams inside. She croaked a little squealing croak, and tested out her numbed lips, her aching jaw. They moved. She could speak.

She tried it. "B-Better." Vanessa whispered, and swallowed. God! Being able to swallow properly felt so, so... "Sir." Vanessa whispered.

Brand found Vanessa's discarded, crumpled blouse and wiped the corners of her mouth for her. "Good. I'm glad to hear you speak. You have a pretty voice."

Vanessa opened her mouth, and shut it. She didn't have a response. She, suddenly, ungagged, didn't want to speak... to allow Brand to hear her 'pretty voice'. She looked to the side, and relished simply being able to breathe. Tried to focus on that, instead of the restraints still there, still driving her mad. Her numbed arms still pinned beneath her, her legs still spread wide and uncomfortably raised up - still attached by a short chain to her neck.

But now she could speak, if she wanted to, and not drool. She was better, better than she had been. The panic now lurking, rather than threatening to overwhelm her, attested to that.

"Let's turn you over." Brand grabbed the restrained negro woman by her shoulder and her backside and carefully, gently turned her. A quarter turn, first onto her side. Brand undid the bolt snap clasp on her leash, and began unwinding the chain. Vanessa was entranced, waiting, feeling her sore thighs and buttocks unravel with the leash, relax. Brand bent her knees as they drifted down, and swiftly hooked her again. She was no longer doubled up at the waist, but her knees wouldn't be able to stretch farther down than their current bent position.

Brand looked at the black woman, considering... "Would you like a pillow? For your chin?"

Vanessa hadn't thought of it. Restrained as she was, being flipped over would put the weight of her upper body on her chin and... her large breasts, she guessed, though she wouldn't know for sure until she was in that position.

"Yes. Yes please. That's... thoughtful. Sir." It was. Thoughtful. In a weird, fucked up way. Thinking of her... comfort. Like this.

"Master." Brand said firmly.

It was all weird. All fucked up. "... Yes, thank you, Master." All backwards, and twisted up, like the black executive herself.

Brand nodded, and got a stiff couch pillow, and another, "Ready?" Vanessa didn't have an answer. She was flipped onto her knees and chest, a pillow beneath her chin, her breasts squished underneath her. Stretched out under her own weight, with no support from her hands, Vanessa felt her own legs tug on her leash. The ample globes of her brown ass were unavoidably stuck high in the air. Still at her side, Brand quietly reached back and ran his fingers along her exposed slit... and up further, along the crack of her butt, over her anus and up... and then down again.

"Are you a good bitch, Vanessa?" Brand's hand found its place, resting, on the globe of her ass. His middle finger touched her anus and massaged it. Vanessa shifted, what little she could. A good bitch?

She didn't have much of a choice about what she was, like this. "Yes, Sir..." Brand massaged the tender muscle of her anal ring harder, circling it. Vanessa swallowed - awkwardly thanks to her position, "Yes, Master. I'm a good bitch."

"Show me. Wag your ass."

How... how humiliating. Intellectually, Vanessa didn't really know what humiliation meant to her anymore - she was already trussed up and being molested. But inside, where it hurt almost all the time, she knew what she felt, and this wasn't...

Brand swatted her ass, and the black executive flinched but... whatever rebellion she could summon in this hateful, bound position flared. She didn't move her round butt. Not a bit.

"You're a good bitch remember?" Vanessa felt Brand's hand on her stinging buttocks again, and suppressed a little mewling noise of anticipated pain, clamped down on it before it could betray her.

Brand didn't spank her again though. He caressed her sensitive upraised butt... then gripped it. With a strong hand, the white man started moving it for her, back and forth, circles. Up and down. Showing her how to do it. His thumb spread the side of her dark, hairy pussy, and... her hips were moving and...

That was it. Vanessa was already there, already wagging, she was **** and there was no point in stopping. Not now. Brand's hand relaxed and the black woman kept the disjointed rhythm he started, shaking her booty for him.

"There you go, that's a good girl." She kept going, while Brand ran his fingers over her pubic area, "A good, wet girl." Brand's voice was soothing. It made Vanessa's stomach clench. The bound black woman shut her eyes and circled her ass, running her pretty black lovehole all around Brand's still, flat fingers.

"Keep going." Brand stood, leaving Vanessa shaking her hips, wagging like a bitch. He turned his back and walked toward the piles of sex toys. She could probably kneel if she was brave enough, or was allowed. She didn't bother. She kept wagging, waggling for the white man, even though he couldn't see her, wasn't paying attention.

Brand stopped rummaging, and looked back at her progress. Vanessa was shamefully glad that she hadn't stopped. She... she shook her butt a little harder, if anything, to prove that she hadn't stopped. He chuckled.

"You look very good. Do you know what you're missing, though?" Brand clearly did. And had clearly found it.

Vanessa did too. She thought she did, thought that she knew what Brand would consider 'missing' for a tamed black bitch like her. She remembered shopping for...

"Take a guess." Brand crouched and looked into the black woman's eyes, still so much lower to the ground than his.

Vanessa lowered her butt. It still moved, but only a bit, muted. She mumbled her answer.

"I can't hear you, Ms. Lockley."

The use of her last name, her professional name, while she was in this position with her ass still slightly shifting for Brand somehow hurt worse than being called a bitch. "A tail," Vanessa muttered.

"I almost heard - "

The fucker. "A tail." Vanessa said firmly. Almost fiercely, looking right at Brand, gritting her teeth.

"Like this?" The big white man held up a fluffy dark-furred tail. At its base was a thick, tapered metal bulb - made to go into a tight puckered anus like hers, and stay there.

Vanessa's flash of annoyance ended as quickly as it flared. Her rear unconsciously lowered, even more.

"Yes," She whispered.

Brand smiled, and he was in front of her, bending and patting her head. Petting her head. He put the metal bulb against her lips.

"If you'd like it to go in easier, suck it."

Brand waited. He touched the metal to her lips... she couldn't move. Vanessa opened, and let the bulb go into her mouth. She tried not to think about where -

"I'm going to stretch your butthole, Ms. Lockley." Brand moved the short bulb back and forth in between Vanessa's thick lips, "That's something that you'll have to deal with. It will go better with lubricant. The anus, your anus, is a muscle." He leaned and touched Vanessa's tight, quivering little muscle with one hand. "It can return, contract, regenerate a lot, provided it's not completely destroyed. Lubricant will help with that, make it easier and smoother - and a lot less painful." Brand's thick fingertip entered her, uncomfortably preparing her for, "I'm going to stretch you. If you behave, you'll have a chance of recovering, of not having your sphincter completely blown beyond repair."

Brand spoke matter of factly to the once dignified black woman about wrecking her butthole, while sliding her tail in her lips.

"I won't mind if you're destroyed beyond recovery. It'll be funny."

He let his words sink in. Vanessa's cheeks hollowed while she sucked. Harder. She didn't want to meet Brand's cruel gray eyes. In fact... the abused negress realized she had gone cross-eyed, she was staring so intently at the fluffy tail tickling her nose and sliding smoothly on her tongue.

"Do you understand?"

Vanessa **** herself to look up and nodded, awkwardly, **** herself on her pillow and a little on the short bulb in her mouth. Brand withdrew Vanessa's new tail from her mouth. She had to slurp back the drool that had formed in her mouth while sucking, and swallowed.

Brand was no longer beside her. He was behind her. Something cool squirted on her little ring and, "Uh!" Vanessa couldn't suppress a little pained grunt as his strong finger slid smoothly inside her... and out... and in... fucking her little back hole.

"The dwarf was right. It is a little hairy back here. Even after you ate half of them."

Vanessa buried her face in the pillow. She never, ever wanted to think about what had happened...

Brand's finger slipped deep, deep inside. "Sorry, Sir," Vanessa muttered. She bit the pillow.

Should... should she have said 'Master'?

Vanessa gasped into the quiet, stiff fabric of the pillow beneath her. Brand pressed something far, far thicker and harder than his finger against her puckered anus. The metal bulb. It was going in. He didn't say, or do, anything to relax her. Vanessa didn't relax. She clenched, but Brand's fingers gripped either side of her thick black butt, and his thumbs pressed in, slowly but firmly on either side. Vanessa could feel herself stretch, further, she gritted her teeth. It - it hadn't even been that thick but she... she didn't want it. It... it felt like it was -

Then, all at once, the thickest part of the bulb was past her ring.

Her clenching, spasming anus sucked the remainder of her tail in, settling it into place.

Vanessa paused a moment, not believing what had happened. What she must look like. After a little groan of discomfort, she wagged her butt experimentally. She could feel the fluffy weight of her tail shift side to side when she did.

Brand laughed.

The black businesswoman flushed, realizing she had just... right in front of him!

"That's good!" The white man sounded genuinely pleased. Happy. Vanessa wanted to die. Brand petted her hairy box, "Do it again! Let's see that hairy tail swing for me. Show me what a bitch looks like."

She had a tail up her ass. And she wasn't going anywhere. Vanessa did what Brand asked, even as it knotted up her insides. While she waggled her black booty, Brand rested his hand against her puss, and Vanessa...

Her waggling and shifting slowly turned into... She began humping. Her unhooded clit stroked Brand's firm hand while his thumb played with her lips. She closed her eyes, and allowed herself to hump the big white man. She disguised it for a moment, for his command to wag, but... she started humping harder... and...

Without warning Brand unzipped his pants. Vanessa gasped at the sound, brought out of her masturbatory moment, and jerked her head against her chain. The big man grabbed her bound, leather mittened hands in one of his own hands, positioned her, and with a yank of Vanessa's tail penetrated his bitch in one thrust.

"F-FUCK!" The bulbous anal intruder popped out in that one, hard tug while Brand penetrated her to the hilt in one hard thrust. Vanessa instantly exploded into a surprise orgasm, screaming, moaning, while Brand fucked her hard.

A minute later, Vanessa stopped screaming. Drool clung to her lips, her chin. Vanessa wiped her teary face on the pillow.

"Huh. That really works. I've heard of girls that cum while getting their hair pulled. Never one that liked getting her tail pulled like you do."

"What is wrong with you?"

What's wrong with me? What's wrong with... Vanessa felt a strange, floating Deja Vu, a sick, sick... Nigger!

The thought, the word flashed, unprompted and unbidden, into Vanessa's head. It slapped her like a thunderbolt, searing her without warning. She sobbed, and choked.

She was panting. Brand, unconcerned about the struggle the shaking, distressed black woman beneath him was going through on her other end, pressed the tail against her well lubricated anus again. Vanessa groaned, but...

It was less difficult this time, slipping in. Her tail swiftly slipped past her anus, and settled.

Brand patted her humping butt affectionately, and picked up rhythm.