Tales of the Thousand and One Shades of Alanis, the Goddess (part 3)

2.
Alanis laughs, when Dog has finished writing the story. Her naked foot on his neck, she says: “Oh I remember this hunt in Spain, it was special fun.”

 

A tear drops from Dog’s eye to the floor. Alanis hears it.

She hears everything.

 

“What’s up, Dog? I am in a good mood. Why are you crying?”

 

Dog hesitates, his body trembles.

Alanis presses her foot harder on his neck.

 

“Tell me, or I’ll finish you.”

 

Dog whimpers. Dog whispers: “I am jealous.”

 

“What?!” Alanis’ face hardenes.

 

Dog hastily adds: “I know, I don’t have any rights, Goddess… But he is your dog… like me… I am youe dog, too … So I fear that you could like him more…”

 

Alanis suddenly laughs her ass off.

Then she ties her dog to a slapping stake.

 

“You are out of your mind, Dog,” she says while she slaps him merciless with her hands, forehand, backhand, endless torture. “I have thousands, millions of slaves and creatures. I can have as many as I want! So that’s the reason I have to punish you for your stupid emotions.”

 

After hundred brutal slaps to his swollen face, Dog has turned into a slobbering, whimpering piece of misery.

 

Alanis whispers in his ears: “Okay, I won’t punish you too hard now. I won’t whip you or kill you, for now. Your jealousy amuses me. And it’s your job to amuse me. So, come along, Dog, I’ll show you the place of the other dog from Barcelona.”

 

And she leads him through her labyrinthine lair, filled with screams and sighs, and they reach a dark and humid catacomb.

 

Dog freezes, horrified at what he sees.

 

At least fifty naked bodies hang upside down from the ceiling, their feet pierced by a hook. Blood flows continuosly from their bodies due to countless wounds and cuts. But the most dreadful was that all those males were still alive and breathing and crying.

 

Alanis strolls through those suffering bodies as if she were in a shopping mall, licking here some blood, from a neck, swinging a sighing body there.

 

She stops in front of a naked male body, littered with scars, cuts and wounds. Alanis kicks him slightly with her foot, and the body begins to swing in the air, and from the inside of the man came a long and desperate sigh.

 

“Meet the dog from Barcelona, Dog… By the way, I took him in the  1980s… So in your notion of time, he is with me for more than 40 years now. Well, for a short time he entertained me as a my dog slave… like you do now… but then he began to bore me… and I decided to turn him into one of my picnic slots.”

 

Dog trembles.

 

Alanis bows down to Dog, she smiles, she whispers in his ears: “Are you still jealous, Dog?” She licks his skin, his eyes, his lips, threatingly.

 

Dog shakes his head.

 

“Do you want to change places with him?”

 

Dog shakes his head furiously.

Alanis giggles.

 

“Well, try to amuse me. Continue your task. Write the next story about my hunts.”

 

Dog whispers humbly, full of horror and fear: “Yes, Goddess Alanis, thankyou for your mercy.”

 

Dog bows down and licks passionatly the feet of his superior eternal Goddess, while she turns to the creature hanging upside down. “Hi Carlos, old dog slave, do you mind if I have a little aperitif?”… She giggled and begins to suck his blood directly from one of his wound, right under his throat.