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Rebecca blinked, not that it made a difference with the blindfold. She breathed in, feeling Amethyst's stomach against her own as she exhaled. How long had they been bound together? The cage rattled with what little movement they could make. The pitbull knew her face was pressed against her lover's crotch, but the hoods and gags prevented their lips from touching.

She relied on smell instead. Not only the scent of leather, but the vole's body odor and arousal mixed together. It made it hard to sleep, making Rebecca wonder if she were awake the entire night, or drifting in and out. Amethyst had to smell the same on her end, a shame Rebecca twisted in her mind. Even after taking a shower before this, the pitbull figured she smelled awful.

Then there were the sounds. Beyond the rattled cage, both girls sparked a moan or audible breath behind their gags. They held each other tight, both for body heat and to calm the other. Rebecca couldn't imagine being alone in this situation, at least not in a setting where she found it enjoyable. In her fantasies, sure. But reality had a funny way of killing fantasies.

Heavy footsteps echoed down the stairs one by one. Rebecca's ears perked up, and she swore Amethyst's must have too from how the cage squeaked in their movements. The top of the cage lifted open. Heavy hands reached around and undid their bindings.

"Get up." A cold but familiar voice commanded. Rebecca steadied herself to rise, hours in one position had stiffened her joints. A forceful hand grabbed her hood and pulled. "Move it, now!" The voice demanded impatiently, "Get into position."

Blind as she was, Rebecca's reflexes were honed by memory. She stood tall outside the cage, standing with her back straight, chest out, and arms behind her back. Her tight nipples stood. Whether because of the cold basement air or her Mistress's treatment, she was unsure.

The hoods and gags came off slowly, letting Rebecca see her Mistress in all her glory. Not that she had much from the bags underneath her green eyes and the scowl she carried. Unlike the two naked girls, the pig had dressed in her casual baggy jeans held up by a black belt, and a gray T-shirt. Her black hair looked more frazzled than usual, unkempt with a tiny horn of hair standing up on her left. It struck Rebecca as especially odd, since she knew Helga could have showered before waking them.

"Tell me how you slept." The pig ordered, eyeing them down from her snout. Rebecca answered as simply as she could, not wanting to complain about her predicament. It was, after all, part of the experience.

Amethyst disagreed. She carried a small smirk that Rebecca struggled to not replicate. "Oh, I'd say two out of five. Loved the company, but could have used a softer mattress. Will there be a mint when we come back?"

For a moment, Helga's face softened. Rebecca watched with envy as the pig brushed her hand across the vole's face, letting the girl softly sink into its caress. To her shame, the pitbull thought that'd be the end of their play then and there, something that almost killed her spirit.

Helga's soft caress turned to a firm grip. She pulled the vole by her hair and forced her against the wall. "Ass out." She ordered. Amethyst obeyed with teasing enthusiasm, shaking her ass before both her mistress and fellow slave. The pig gave no warning for the spanking that followed, cracking loud enough for Rebecca to shiver. Their mistress held the vole face first against the concrete foundation, speaking only to remind Amethyst, or Green as she was now known, to keep her butt steady.

The vole's ass was red, but she smiled despite the tiny tears down her cheek. "I'm not your room service." Helga pushed Amethyst back beside Rebecca, "And you two aren't guests. You're slaves. I will not hesitate to remind you both." Clicking a shared leash around the loop of each girl's collar, the pig tugged them along up a flight of steps opposite the one they had walked down the previous night. The cellar doors opened to show no sunlight, but a cool dark morning that brushed against their naked bodies as they stepped barefoot outside.

Rebecca had never been exposed outdoors before. A leash outside was the craziest she'd gone. Her chest tightened. Butterflies rummaged in her stomach as she stared out into the lake, seeing a twinkle from the twilight. The pitbull had no time to decide if that was real or in her head, as her mistress's pull circled them around the cabin. There Helga pointed to a dilapidated stone wall garden, or at least that's what Rebecca assumed it was with all the weeds.

"I want these weeds gone by sunrise." Helga tossed a pair of gardening gloves to them both, "For every weed I see at first light, you each get a spanking."

"Weeding?" Amethyst raised her brow, "Really? That's our first task? No morning prayers or bullshit dances in the sunlight?" The pitbull held back her urge to giggle, namely because she wanted to be an obedient sub and do as she was told.

Helga answered Amy's question with a heavy rubber ball stuck firmly behind her teeth. "Figured this would come in handy." The pig nodded to herself, as she made final adjustments to the gag. "I'll punish you for your toilet bowl of a mouth later. Now get to work." It became clear early on that neither Rebecca or Amethyst knew how to differentiate a weed from a regular plant. Both because neither girl knew what this garden was meant to grow, and, in Rebecca's case, she'd been a city person her entire life. With every plant the pitbull pulled, she waited for a reprimand that just never came.

While no stranger to exercise, there was a certain struggle with the work. Her unguarded knees sunk into the dirt, parting it as she crawled about with each plant torn from the soil. Its earthy scent bombarded her nostrils with each pull. Amethyst's gagged breathing bounced around her ear. From the corner of her eye, Rebecca saw saliva slowly pool from underneath the ballgag as the vole huffed through the labor.

And through it all, their mistress watched. Not with a smile, but as firm a face she could make. Like she was a warden overseeing two prisoners. At first, Rebecca found it arousing. She swayed her hips invitingly to the pig while she worked, hoping to get a little attention. None had come, so she continued to dig her paws into the dirt and clear away roots.

"Stop." Helga had them stand in attention as the sun rose. The piercing rays relieved the morning chill. The pitbull shuddered a breath as the pig inspected their work, knowing full well that they had half the garden left and both their piles included more than just weeds.

"The fuck is this?" Helga grabbed both girls by their hair, forcing them to view each pile. "Did I say clear the garden?" Amethyst said something into her gag, but Rebecca shook her head in silence. "Are you both stupid? Do you know what a weed is?"

"No, mistress." Rebecca's throat grew tight at the answer. She expected a slap, a reprimand to keep her in line. But all she got was a resounding sigh.

"Hands on the wall." Helga let go, "Ass up. Now." Rebecca's heart swelled and she swallowed her excitement. Both bent over, resting their hands across the loose stone wall and raising their butts as high as they could. She felt one hand rest on her lower back, holding her in place.

Helga's hand came down. Rebecca bit her lip to numb the pain. Her backside felt hundreds of needles at once with each heavy strike. Crack, crack, crack. No words were said. None were needed. She had failed her task and the firm hand was her punishment. In the back of her mind, Rebecca wondered how far the sound traveled into the woods around them. Could a morning hiker hear each slap and travel closer? How shocked would they be to see two young women, naked and bent over as an older woman tanned their hides?

Amethyst bit and swore into her gag when it was her turn. Rebecca watched in envy, despite her own backside throbbing from the pig's calloused hand. Should she speak out of turn so she could be silenced? No, she shook her head. The pitbull couldn't play the part of the brat.

"Why are you smiling?" Helga asked. Not sure who she asked, Rebecca stayed silent until Helga asked again. "Red, what are you so happy about?"

"Apologies, Mistress." Rebecca bowed her head into the stone, "I was envious of Ame...Green's gag."

"You are?" There was an undertone of confusion in Helga's words, "Why's that?"

"I just like how it looks, Mistress. How it feels in my mouth." Her clipped ears drooped when she said that, face burning red.

A soft chuckle sounded behind them. "Do you want me to gag you?" Helga asked. Rebecca nodded. The pig planted her leather boot right next to Rebecca's head. Her mistress leaned in, surveying the garden from the corner or Rebecca's eye, as if deep in thought. "You both made such a mess. Can't really salvage this unless they start from scratch..."

Amethyst's stomach rumbled. Helga grinned. "No breakfast until this garden is clear of plants. Then I'll gag you, mutt." The vole squeaked into her gag with another quick slap across her rump. "Now, get back to work!"

The heat from the morning sun was welcomed, at first. It quickly became a bane. Heat wrapped around Rebecca's back like a blanket, all the while her stomach growled and her arms grew weaker with every plant she pulled. Thanks to the gloves, she imagined the only part of her body not covered in the dirt was her hands.

"Sleep well, Rainbow?" Helga said from behind. Rebecca fought the urge to look back, needing to focus on the task at hand. But her ears perked up all the same, taking note of Jewel's curiosity in the scene before her.

"So, they're just clearing out the garden?" The badger asked, "You know we don't really use it anymore."

"I figured. It looked like a mess." Helga sipped something, then complained about it being too hot. Must have been coffee. "Told them to remove the weeds, but the dumb little cunts couldn't tell the difference. So I'm having them remove it all." A small well of shame pooled in her lower abdomen at the insult, and a quick look at Amethyst told Rebecca she felt the same way. Neither complained. Rebecca smiled with the feeling.

"That's a little...oh, right, the scene. Did you want me to get my camera?"

"I would, yes." Rebecca imagined her mistress nod, "Also, I left some instructions on how to make their breakfast shakes on the fridge. Could you be a dear and get those ready?"

The pitbull wagered it took a half hour to finish pruning the garden of any life. She had dirt all over. The soil caked across her knees, shins, and elbows. Amethyst showed the same, standing beside the pitbull as both girls puffed their chests out, kept their arms behind themselves, and their legs together. Jewel had returned with her camcorder and two bottles of what Rebecca had to assume was breakfast.

She found it hard not to look at the camera. "Eyes forward." Helga inspected their work, her heavy boots crunching the earth as she paced back and forth between them. The little voice in the back of her head demanded to know how many paces the pig needed to see an empty plot and two piles.

"Acceptable." Helga unlatched Amethyst's gag, "Kneel." The vole did so. Rebecca gulped as she watched the pig drop her jeans and spread her pussy open before her slave. "Open your mouth, wide. Wider." Grabbing the back of her slave's head, she shoved her open maw against the pig's barren cunt. "Pay close attention now, 'cause this is how you punish a pottymouth."

It took some time. Maybe a minute, maybe more. The pig looked flustered the longer it took her. Helga relaxed with a steady breath. Rebecca sniffed the air, smelling the acrid scent before it splashed across Amethyst's tongue. Peering down, she watched her slave-sister's throat swallow in a rhythm, seeing little beads of urine drip past her lips, down her cheeks, and finally dropping to soak into the earth. The pig softly gasped out in relief, holding her slave's head tight until she was finished.

Amethyst sputtered when freed. She coughed as if something went down the wrong pipe. Every spittle had a yellowish hue to it. Rebecca closed her lips tight, thankful she didn't have to drink their mistress's waters this morning. "You still gonna be a potty mouth, bitch?" Helga asked. When Amy didn't answer, she grabbed the vole's head and pulled her up to face her. "I asked you a question, cunt."

And Amethyst, poor foolhardy Amethyst, smiled back and kissed the pig on the lips. "How's that for an answer, Mama?" She whispered back, too softly for any camera to pick up. Nor would it pick up the pig's face turning firetruck red in the split second after they broke apart, her lips twisted into a confused and lustful smile.

The vole earned another five spanks after that. Rebecca looked over to Jewel as it happened, expecting her to flinch and turn away. The badger's eyes and camera were locked in on Amethyst, and a faint blush crossed her face.

"Drink up." Helga handed the pitbull and vole two shakes in plastic containers. One sip and Rebecca spat it out. The ungodly taste of mixed veggies and protein powder slurred together with a hint of sugar stayed on her tongue. "I said drink." Helga looked on with a stone face and crossed arms, "If you don't like it, I brought a funnel."

With a glance over to Amethyst, Rebecca found the vole guzzling it down with her nose pinched. With Helga's piss fresh on her tongue, anything must have been better. She took a deep breath and did the same, but not even a pinched nostril could erase the flavor. Rebecca never imagined she'd miss a raw yolk breakfast.

After breakfast, their pig mistress lined them up again and asked one question. "You filthy cunts want to get cleaned up?" They nodded. She pointed them to the lake, "See those buckets at the dock? Fill them each to the brim and bring them here."

Jewel followed at a distance. Her camera pointed squarely behind their backs. Rebecca did her best to ignore it, not wanting to break character for prosperity's sake. Both she and Amy took a single bucket and bent over, filling it to the rim with cold water. Even with the hot summer sun blazing down on them, she did not look forward to one gallon of icy lake water across her body.

"At least you didn't mess this up." Helga chided as the two submissives rested the buckets before her. "Now, we're gonna play a game. Each of you are gonna hold your buckets out front of you for as long as I say you do. Whatever's left in the bucket will be what you wash with. That too complicated for either of you?" They shook their heads, "Good. Now pick it up."

Doing the math in her head, Rebecca realized she didn't know how much a gallon of water weighed. She always had difficulty in math, and Helga could only do so much when she helped her study. A short lifetime of exercise helped her guess the weight as she lifted it before her. Eight pounds maybe? Nine? Whatever the weight was didn't matter, Helga never gave them a time limit. They were to hold it until she said so, which told Rebecca one thing.

Failure was expected.

Tensing her shoulders and breath, Rebecca's arms stayed steady. At first, she focused on the bucket itself as if she could will the water to stay inside when her arms started to shake. Amethyst's breathing caught her attention. Her eyes peeled to the left, where the vole's bucket already shook. Of the three of them, Amy spent the least time exercising and Rebecca was sure the vole regretted it now.

"Giving up already?" Helga whispered aloud. She took her place before both girls, but leaned towards each with every insult. "Is this too hard for your pretty little arms? Do you need a manicure and a massage after a hard day of working in the field?" She tipped over Amethyst's bucket, letting a quarter pour out. "How's that? I'm sure it's still enough to get that dirt off of you."

Rebecca's arms started to shake. "Don't drop it." Helga whispered to her, slipping behind the pitbull. Rough hands reached around and grabbed her breasts. Fingers pinched and pulled, her hot breath drifting down the dog's neck. "Unless you want to stay a filthy mutt. I might just have to leave you outside if you do that. Keep you chained to a post like some feral."

She knew she wouldn't. No matter how hard Helga planned this weekend to be, a naked night outside and alone was too far. Though for the moment, Rebecca imagined it. The chill of the sunless sky, the wind whistling through the trees as she crumbled into the dirt for shuteye. All while her sister slave stayed inside, alone in the cage.

The vole cried out. Amethyst's knees hit the dirt, wallowing in the mud her bucket made. "Really? That's how long you lasted?" Helga pulled the vole back by her headfur, softly slapping her face as she spoke. "Guess you should exercise more. Maybe it'd fit your little fake punk persona better."

"I'm sorry, Mistress." Amethyst gasped out. "I couldn't-"

Helga clasped her hands around the vole's maw. "Did I say you could speak?" She asked, green eyes focused on the girl's indigo. Amethyst shook what little of her head she could. "That's right, I didn't say you could speak. You've just been yapping all day." The pig spread her slave's legs apart with several pats. "Yap." She slapped Amethyst's cunt. "Yap." The vole winced at the second strike. "Yap. Do you think this is some sort of vacation? That we're just here to go hiking or enjoy the lake?"

Though tears were forming, the blushed burned bright across Amethyst's face. She shook her head. "What's your name?" Helga asked.

"Green, Mistress." Amethyst answered.

"And what are you?"

Amethyst swallowed a lump in her throat before she spoke. "Your slave."

For the first time that morning, Helga smiled. She kissed the vole's forehead and said, "Good girl." Before turning back to the pitbull. "Red." Rebecca stood at attention with her bucket at hand. The pig pushed Amethyst to the canine's feat, "Dump your bucket over her." She did so without delay, splashing the gallon and drenching her sister slave's fur. The vole shivered and squeaked, clasping her sides from the downpour.

Helga grabbed Amy's bucket and handed it back to her, "Now dump yours over Red." The vole blinked, then looked back and forth between Rebecca and her mistress, empty bucket in her hand. A question formed at her lips, but she gave it no voice. "Now!" Helga shouted.

No splash came from the bucket. Only a small cool drizzle sat atop Rebecca's head. Helga chuckled. "Well look at that, the mutt's still filthy. Do you know why that is, Red?" The pitbull nodded. "Say it."

"Because Green dropped her bucket." Rebecca felt a vice of shame as she indirectly insulted her slave sister.

"That's right." Helga kicked the buckets aside, "And because of her fuck up, you're gonna stay dirty until I say so. Let this be a lesson to you both: If one fucks up, the other is punished." Rebecca felt a lump in her throat at the realization. Sneaking a glance to the vole, she saw her sister slave feel the same. As ashamed as she was to think it, Rebecca believed she'd feel the brunt of the punishments.

Their mistress's labors were not done. The morning sun beat down on Rebecca's neck as Helga took them to a stump with an ax stuck inside it. The pig pulled the tool away and handed it to Rebecca. "Do you know how to chop firewood?"

She shook her head. Helga demonstrated with a single log. The pig held her dominant hand above her nondominant at the bottom of the handle, kept her legs shoulder-length wide, and raised the ax over her head. One strike pierced into the lined wood, splitting it down the middle.

"Like that." Helga picked up a pair of gloves and protective glasses for Rebecca. A forceful hand pulled her close. "Do not go hard on this," She whispered to the pitbull, "Aim for the stump and don't worry about power. Be safe."

Rebecca nodded, smiling at her Mistress's concern. It earned her a soft slap. "You." She pointed to Amethyst, "Come with me. Red's going to need more wood."

***

Jewel's throat clenched as she saw her best friend spanked before her. As she'd been asked, the badger kept the camera focused on their display. She knew damn well the footage would be shaky when she didn't use a camera stand, and not just because she wasn't used to filming.

It was bizarre. Slavery was wrong, she'd known that since elementary school. Yet, despite it being 'pretend', Amethyst and Rebecca were being worked like, well, actual slaves. Helga didn't let them voice a complaint without any sort of punishment and didn't give them the decency of clothes. Jewel's stomach twisted in disgust at Amethyst's punishment drink before breakfast, turning away to keep the image out of her mind.

Which made the vole's kiss afterwards all the more shocking.

She just didn't understand it. She knew the trio had a special relationship. But in their home it looked, weirdly, normal. The badger scoffed, how normal could living with two girls half your age be? Well, it wasn't like Helga abused them, as Jewel's girlfriend had experienced.

But what made this different from abuse? She couldn't draw the dividing line in her mind. For the moment, she watched Rebecca slam the ax into log after log, splitting them in twain for no reason beyond Helga's command. It's not like they really needed the firewood, the cabin had modern heating.

"You can ask them anything." Helga had told her the night before, after she'd locked both in the basement. "During this, they're gonna be acting as close to real slaves as they can be. Even if you're not a dom, they'll be under you in authority. So if you want to ask questions or give an order, you can."

"Is that really ok?" She had asked, "I mean, I probably shouldn't interfere."

"Please do." Helga had said amid a yawn, "After all, you've got a thesis on this shit, right?"

She did, though Jewel hadn't thought much about it. Pulling out a notepad and pen, she locked the camcorder to a stand and asked Rebecca to stop. The pitbull's ax was midway through a log at the command. She looked at the badger, her body pulsing with each breath while awaiting instruction.

"How are you feeling right now?" She asked, clicking her pen.

The pitbull stared off in Jewel's direction, not so much looking at her as through her. She stood straight, her chest out and arms behind her back. "Tired." Rebecca answered, "Humiliated, tired, and...permission to speak freely?"

Jewel blinked, not recognizing the request for a second. "Oh, uh, sure." She wrote in her notes about Rebecca's conditions so far, "Don't think of me as a dom or anything, I'm just an observer."

"I just don't want to break character right away." Rebecca cleared her throat and slumped her shoulders, relaxing herself. "I've been working since before the sun rose up. I used to do this regularly. Not like this, obviously." She waved her hand to the stump and the garden, "I meant basic exercise and fitness. For mixed martial arts. Sometimes I'd fall into a trance when doing it, just focusing on the task at hand until it's finished, ignoring how my body screamed."

"And this is like that?" Jewel kept writing.

The pitbull grimaced. "Yes, and no. When I'm exercising, I have an end goal in my head. But with this, there isn't one. I just keep working until I'm told to stop. And while there's some enjoyment to that, I like a firm grip and direction after all, there's also this sense of fear."

"Such as?" Jewel asked.

Rebecca's eyes turned around as if she tried to catch Helga and Amethyst out from the corner. "When we normally play, no matter how hard my Mistresses are, I get a sense of euphoria knowing that they will be holding me for comfort afterwards. But I've never seen Helga push like this, so I'm a little worried. Not to mention the guilt."

"Guilt?" Jewel furrowed her brow, "What do you have to be guilty about?"

"We've never been punished based on the other's mistake." Rebecca said softly, turning her head to see Amethyst and Helga march back around the cabin, "I don't want to sound like a bitch, but Amy's limits are less than mine. She also likes being punished, that's why she's such a brat in play. So me getting punished for her mistakes, well, I'm betting she hates that, and I feel guilty for making her feel that way."

"But...it's her fault you're being punished." Jewel said to clarify, "Shouldn't she feel guilty?"

The dog nodded, "And that's why I feel guilty. Helga's never done mind games like this. Honestly, I'm not a fan."

"So she didn't talk about it before?" Jewel noted the pitbull's head shake. That was contradictory to everything she knew about proper BDSM, and what Helga had told her in the past. "Why do you think that is?"

"Maybe she wanted to challenge us?" Rebecca shrugged, "I haven't had much time to think on it. Not with, well, the labor."

Was that the intention? Did Helga want to push them beyond their limits, and keep them too busy to think it over? Jewel noted more and more ideas down, figuring she could ask the pig later on why she had surprised her girls. "So, beyond that, do you have anything else you'd like to share?" Rebecca shook her head. "Ok, then I have one more question before you get back to work: I know your lifestyle is apparently a softer twenty-four-seven thing, but would you be ok if it moved to harder? Like, if you did this kind of stuff more often? Be completely honest."

Rebecca smiled, rested her head, and chuckled, "You know, when I first discovered BDSM, I was obsessed with the idea of being a slave. I'm not sure if it was because of being taken care of in some fucked up way, or just the idea of having little responsibility beyond what was asked of me. Which, given how my father used to treat me as a fighter, wasn't too far off from how I used to live. But now? No." She looked back, and Jewel noticed the vole and pig walking up beside them, "I think it's a good peek into the lifestyle, but I prefer what we already have."

"Would you stop early, then?"

Rebecca shook her head. "I kind of wanna see how far we can go. Almost like a competition of sorts. Does that make sense?" In some twisted way, it did for Jewel.