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Becoming Bitch	By : Mal Category: Celebrities - Misc > General Views: 24405 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: This story is entirely fictional. It did NOT happen. I do not know Dove Cameron, nor do I make any money from the distribution of this story.

Chapter List
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- 2
Disclaimer: This story is entirely fictional. It did NOT happen. I, the author of this story in no way, shape or form wish to see any event pertained herein to actually befall the aforementioned celebrity. Nor do I condone rape, torture or bestiality. This is just a dark fantasy from the deepest recesses of my twisted brain. I apologize if it gives any offence. It is merely meant to arouse and entertain. Finally, I do not know Dove Cameron, nor do I make any money from the distribution of this story.
Chapter 1: Captured
The low humming of truck tires on the open road matched the droning in her ears. Somewhere beneath the cloudiness in her head, the throbbing pain in her side, and that relentless humming, there was the dissonant flapping of fabric whipping in the wind. With so much going on, it was difficult to think, much less move. Dove Cameron twisted against the discomfort in her joints or tried to. She groaned as her weight shifted, it felt like her veins were filled with mud and her head clogged with sand. “What happened?” she thought. Something. Her thick, glued on eye lashes fluttered as she struggled to regain consciousness and to remember what had befallen her.
Though she was still far too disoriented to realize it, Dove’s situation was much more precarious than she realized. The normally pristine former Disney starlet had been stripped completely naked. Her body was covered in dirt and a few bits of grass and twigs clung to her damp flesh. She was on her knees, arms bound tightly behind her back, and worst, of all, she’d been placed inside a small three-foot-tall, three-foot wide, four-foot long dog crate.
The narrow metal bars dug into her knees as she was being forced into this position by two thin nylon ropes, one pulling against the another. The first rope was tied to the bindings that secured her arms. It was pulled taut and attached to the roof of the cage, while a second rope, latched to a pink leather dog collar around her neck, pulled her head in the opposite direction. Both of her ankles were likewise bound in pink leather bands and attached via climbing hooks to the bars on either side of the cage. The restraints, working in conjunction, rendered her completely immobile. If all this weren’t enough, two thick leather straps wrapped around her head, pinning her gorgeous platinum blonde hair to her head and firmly holding a big red ball gag in place. The rubber ball was stuffed past her thick, pouty lips, her teeth dug into its surface as it held her mouth wide open and it was covered in drool. Thick ropy strands ran down her chin as her head hung limp and dripped steadily onto the floor of the cage.
The truck hit a pot hole in the road, bouncing the vehicle and jostling her cage. Dove’s head banged against the side and, with a shake, her eyes fluttered open. A thick grey tarp whipped in the wind overhead. It was pulled tight over the bed of a strange truck, concealing her beneath it. The light from outside provided her just enough illumination to reveal the desperate situation she was in. Her head swam in confusion and her vision was blurred. Her back and side were stung with bright red welts, the result of being shot with a taser.
It took several more minutes for her to fully come around and for her senses to return. As she shook the cobwebs from her head, the memory of how she came to be in this situation slowly returned. Thomas, her long-time boyfriend, had suggested a long weekend trip up state to do some hiking in the Adirondack National Park.
It had been a lovely little vacation. Three days in a small cabin, hiking, and exploring nature. Just what the starlet needed before going back to rehearsals for her big Broadway premier. They’d been on their way back it was well after dark and they were driving down the highway heading back to NYC. They’d stopped for gas, and Dove had gotten herself a cup of coffee to help her stay awake so she could keep Thomas company for the rest of the ride home.
A few miles after they’d gotten back on the road a rusty, beat up Chevy truck came out of nowhere and raced up behind them on the deserted stretch of country road. It whipped around them and swerved into their lane, nearly clipping the front end of their car. Dove could clearly remember Thomas cursing and her own cry of surprise as he veered wildly to avoid a wreck. He lost control of the car and they both cried out in fright as it skidded off the road and flew into a deep nearby ditch. The car was totaled, it was a twisted mess. Thomas was unconscious, he’d hit his head. Dove could still see the gash in his forehead from where he’d been bleeding.
What she’d been unaware of, until it was too late, was that the truck had doubled back. The driver, a man she’d only seen as a shadowy figure in a black jacket and wearing a ball cap, came down the hill to claim his prize. Without mercy, he shot Thomas with a taser. Dove cried out in surprise and leapt from the car to make a run for it. Her unknown assailant barely bothered to give chase. He reloaded a cartridge into his taser and fired. She made it less than a hundred feet before she went down with a scream.
The man was standing over her when she finally stopped twitching. All she could see was a terrifying shadow cast against the blaring headlights of their car. “Saw you getting coffee, Dove.” His voice was calm and sinister. He loomed over her, calmly reloading his taser. “You’re going to make a great bitch.” It was impossible to see his face, cast in the darkness, but she was sure he wore a wicked smile.
Dove’s face contorted in fear. “No, please,” she begged. Her pleas were to fall on fell on deaf ears. When, with a sadistic laugh, he shot her a second time. The second dose of electricity raced along her nervous system, and, moments later, she lost consciousness. The next thing she knew, she was in a cage in the back of his truck.
The young, blonde starlet’s big, green eyes bulged in terror and immediately filled with tears, as a quick look around revealed the depth of danger she was in. She began to fight against her bonds, thrashing, bucking, and screaming around the gag. She pulled at the ropes, twisted against the restraints on her arms, and bounced in an attempt to knock open the cage. Her struggles soon created quite a racket. For several minutes she groaned and howled into her gag and pulled against the ropes till her wrists and knees were bleeding. But, no matter how hard she struggled, it was all in vain. Suddenly, the frightful voice of a man with a deep southern drawl hollered back at her, “quiet down back there, yah mangy mutt.”
Dove jumped in surprise, but, muted and immobile, she had very little choice. Eventually, her strength gave out, her muffled screams ran her voice raw, and the restraints had dug painfully into her flesh. She hung limp from the ropes, exhausted from her struggles. Drool dripped past the gag and, hanging there, she soon fell into a fitful sleep. Hours passed, she had no idea how many, as the truck drove on and on, seemingly without end. She woke several times to the humming of the tires on the road or to the tarp whipping in the wind. Then, without warning, the truck skidded to a stop. Her cage jostled, it slid along the truck bed, right into the cabin and caused her body to sway against the bonds.
She let out a feeble little groan, giving one last pathetic yank on the ropes as she heard the occupant exit the truck and walk around behind it. She flinched when the tail gate dropped, whimpered at the sound of the tarp being yanked away, and sobbed as she felt him lift the cage from the back and set it down upon the ground. Her body was turned away from him, the restraints kept her from seeing his face, but she felt him standing over her, felt his gloating.
Desperately, she looked around, hoping against hope that there would be any small sign of help. Sadly, it was not to be. They were in a clearing deep in the woods. The man had clearly driven through the night; the sun was just beginning to peek through the trees. It was just after dawn and the morning’s pale light cast the forest floor in a dim light. She screamed again in vain, the gag muting the sound to almost nothing as she offered one last thrash to get free. Then, her head fell limp, it was hopeless…
Dove had no idea where they could be, there were no landmarks and, given how long the truck had been driving, they could be a hundred miles or more from where she’d been kidnaped. Her stomach twisted in hunger and her bladder pressed against her stomach in dire need of being emptied. She worried about Thomas and hoped this man had only planned to ransom her back for money. Because of this, she’d thus far held onto her human restraints, to human morality, to human ideas of decency, even though she’d been caged like an animal. All this was about to change.
Her kidnapper knelt before the cage giving Dove her first good look at him. At first glance, he didn’t appear like the type of person capable of such a vicious crime. He had a narrow face with sharp features, thin, smirking lips and a chiseled jaw with a few days of beard growth darkening his chin. He wore a plaid, long-sleeved shirt with what was obviously a tin of chewing tobacco in the upper breast pocket. Dark jeans and cowboy boots decorated his lower half, but it was to his eyes that Dove’s were drawn. They were dark and unreadable. He studied her for a long moment before, suddenly, that rather normal face twisted and became something much more sinister and those eyes filled with malice.
His mouth contorted into a cruel grin. He reached out and jostled the cage to get her attention. “Bitch,” the man said, in a calm, even voice. Clearly this situation did not have him flustered, he was in control. “I’m Carl. You hungry, you need to pee?” His voice had a deep drawl like he was from the south and some of his teeth were twisted in his mouth.
Dove’s eyes bulged in fear. She pulled violently against her bonds, feeling a surge of renewed energy at the sight of her kidnapper. “Mmmmhhhmmmm!” she screamed around the gag. The cage shook and rattled with her effort, but it was built to hold much stronger animals than she.
Carl only seemed amused by her fight. “Suit yourself,” he said, with a shrug. He then spit a disgusting mouthful of liquified tobacco into her face and stood up, looking to the truck. “Zeus,” he called clearly, “come.”
Zeus was a pure-blooded American Mastiff and one of the finest representatives of his species. Six generations in breeding had transformed him into a magnificent specimen. Thirty-six inches tall at the shoulder and fur the color of coal. He was two hundred and fifteen pounds of rippling muscle and bred for one singular purpose—to be the fiercest breed of attack dog on the planet. This big, powerful animal dwarfed the nubile, little starlet. He padded over to the cage, turned a curious gaze to the tiny figure hanging inside, then sat on his haunches and looked up at his master.
Dove began to sob, tears streamed down her face leaving lines in the dirt and tobacco spit clinging to her cheeks. Her struggles to free herself had proved useless and her prospects for escape seemed to dwindle at the sight of the massive hound. “Mmmmhhhmmmm,” she said, in a much more docile tone, looking up at Carl with a pleading gaze.
“So, you do need to pee? Are you hungry too, Bitch?” he asked sarcastically, giving the cage a quick kick.
Dove nodded, “mmmhhmmmhm.” Her body hung limp against the restraints, she looked up at Carl feebly. “mmzzzzzz,” she added pathetically.
“Please…” Carl laughed. “Well, Bitch, since you asked so nicely. Soon as I’m done getting Zeus’s chow, I’ll get yours.”
Carl let Zeus run off to piss while he grabbed some metal bowls, a few bottles of water, and a bag of dry dog food from the truck bed. He placed the bowls down nearby, filled one with food and the other with water. When the big Mastiff returned, Carl began to free her from the restraints. He started with her legs, unhooking them from the cage bars, then he untied the rope securing her bound arms to the roof, and finally he bent down to look at her. “I’m gonna untie this now, Bitch.” He looked past her to Zeus, “you try an run, Zeus there’s gonna chase you down and I can promise you the rest of our ride won’t be so comfortable.”
Dove nodded and Carl untied the binding at her neck. He opened the cage, allowing her to back out of it on her knees into the dirt. When she tried to stand, Carl kicked the back of her knees. “I say you could stand, Bitch?”
With a whimper around the gag, Dove shook her head. “hmmmmhm,” she cried.
“You keep down on them knees now, understand?” When Dove nodded again in understanding, Carl clipped a long leather leash into the ring on her collar. “You’s just a bitch now. You got that?”
The young blonde starlet nodded, “mmhhhhmmmm,” she pleaded around the gag. The dirt was cold against her legs and the tears hot against her flesh. She’d never been so degraded or humiliated in her whole life, and she could sense this was just the beginning.
Carl removed the restraints on her arms when she again agreed to stay down on her hands and knees. “I’m gonna take the gag out now so’s you can eat. You scream, and I’ll bust every tooth from that pretty head of yours, understand?”
Dove again nodded and the gag was finally removed. She looked up at Carl, “please,” she sobbed, “just let me go. I’ve got money! I can pa—” a quick backhand to her face quieted her down.
“You keep quiet, dog,” he snarled. “You so much as yip at me again and I’ll remove that tongue, got it?!?”
The blow left Dove’s lip fat and bloody. She bowed her head submissively and keep her mouth shut, not wanting to test whether Carl would back up his threat. “Dog,” she thought… what did he mean by that?
The answer became quickly apparent, as he sat a pair of metal dog bowls down in front of her and filled them with the same dry dog food and water he’d just given Zeus. “Chow’s on, Bitch. Daylights burning and I wanna get back on the road. We’s a long way to go yet.”
Dove stared at her “food” in shock. He couldn’t mean for her to eat this… could he? Reactively, without thinking, she looked up at him, a questioning look in her eyes. She got another smack for her trouble, this time to the other side of her face.
“What?” Carl sneered, “I thought you was hungry. No? Well then, let’s go have a piss and we can get out of here.” He stood and gave a yank at her leash. When she didn’t move, he glared down at her. “Bitch,” he sighed, “you’re gonna need a lot o’ training.” He gave the leash another sharp pull. “Now, either you come along and do your business or its back in the cage for the second half of our trip.”
Quickly weighing her options, Dove crawled after him. It was either follow him, or go back in the cage, and she wasn’t yet ready to subject herself to that again. Zeus hopped to his feet as Carl led her off behind some trees. The big Mastiff followed up behind her, getting very close to her ass. When she came to a stop, she jumped in surprise, when she felt his muzzle press against her pussy. “No!” she cried, “bad dog!”
Carl ignored her pleas. He swatted the top of her head, “thought I told you to shoosh!” Then, he let Zeus give her a good long sniff.
Dove’s eyes filled with tears as she felt the big dog’s fur and whiskers brush against her butt. His cold nose pressed firmly to her opening and he huffed and gulped in her smell. It sent a piercing sensation of terror down her spine as she was forced to kneel there, completely nude, while this massive dog inspected her most intimate areas. “Please…I wanna go home…” she whimpered softly.
“What was that, Bitch?” Carl asked mockingly. He’d heard her, of course, and she’d violated his rule about talking again, but he didn’t care. Carl was too busy enjoying the look of degradation on her face, the tears in her eyes, and her hopelessness to quibble over rules.
Zeus pressed his big nose against her slit, breathing her in and pushing her forward as he nuzzled against her. But, it was when he began to lick that she felt she had to take further steps to make this stop. “No!” she cried, trying to stand up and push the dog’s huge snout away at the same time.
As soon as she rose up off her knees, Carl was there. He yanked hard on the leash, kneeling and pulling her with him down to the ground. In a flash, he had a wicked looking knife pulled from his boot, and pressed it against the tender, tear streaked flesh of her cheek. He shoved his knee into her neck, forcing her face into the dirt and leaned in low against her ear. “Listen careful, Bitch,” he hissed, “you don’t seem to be getting this, so I’ll give you one more chance. Do what I say, or I’ll carve you up, nice and slow.” To emphasize his point, Carl flicked her hair to the side and drew the blade agonizingly slow across her ear. The blade cut into her, slicing a narrow groove out of top of her ear.
Dove screamed and struggled. She kicked her legs and tried to stand up, to throw Carl off her, anything to get free. His weight held her down as he drew the blade across her ear. She heard Zeus growl, the dog’s head bumped hard against her legs, sending her down fully into the dirt. He then clamped onto her ankle, pressing down with his teeth just hard enough to let her know he could tear her apart anytime he wanted. She screamed as the blade drew a deep groove into the top of her ear. “Please! Stop! I’m sorry!”
Blood from the cut dripped down onto her face and she began to sob softly, pathetically, hopelessly. “That’s good,” Carl said quietly. He eased off her neck and pushed her back up into a kneeling position. “Now, Bitch, it’s time to pee.” He grabbed a hold of her left ankle and lifted her leg into the air. “I want you to piss like the dog whore you are.” He gave her a second, but when Dove failed to begin urinating, he pressed the blade to the bottom of her foot. “You better start pissing, Bitch, or I’m gonna carve me up some piggies to feed Zeus with!”
“No,” she wailed, in a feeble sob. “Please, don’t! I’ll pee… just watch!” And with tears streaming down her face, Dove opened her bladder. Hot, stinky piss flared from her cunt. It went streaming through the air where it fell to the ground, rattling upon the fallen autumn leaves. The girl cried and wailed feebly as she slowly pushed all the urine from inside, all while Carl and Zeus watched on dispassionately.
“That’s a good bitch,” Carl commended, when she was done. He gave the top of her head an affectionate pat then urged Zeus back over. The big black Mastiff buried his muzzle back between her thin legs. He again sniffed her twat and began to lick, lapping up her waste and tasting her hot, young pussy. His tongue was thick and course but, most of all, it was relentless. In big, broad strokes he lapped against her opening again and again.
Carl shoved her face back into the dirt and knelt on her neck. She was forced to lie there, tears streaming down her cheeks, enduring this unbelievable humiliation. “Please…make him stop…” she sobbed. She cried and she whimpered, but she dared not struggle or try to stop it. Carl had already sliced her ear open, who knew what he might do if she should struggle anymore? She was powerless. Helpless.
Zeus’s coarse tongue lapped at her cunt, opening her up and licking vigorously at her insides. She heard Carl laugh when it brushed against her clit and she cried out. “Enjoying yourself, Bitch?”
“Noooo,” she cried. “Please make him stop… I’m begging you.”
“You about ready to start doing what I tell you?” He asked, after this humiliation had gone on for several minutes.
“Yes… please. I’ll do anything.”
“Good.” He stood up off her, relieving the pressure of his knee on her neck. “Zeus,” he commanded, “truck.” The big dog immediately ceased his licking, he let out a good-natured bark and retreated to the Chevy. Carl yanked on Dove’s leash and led her, on all fours, back to where he’d poured her bowls of food and water. As he pulled her along beside him, she noticed an ominous bulging in his pants. Clearly, he’d gotten aroused by watching his dog eat her out.
He grabbed her hair and forced her nose into the bowl. “Now, I poured you this food, and you’s gonna eat it.” Dove sobbed, nodding enthusiastically. She reached up into the bowl and Carl slapped her hard across the face. “Dog’s ain’t got fingers, Bitch. Eat it right!”
Her whole body shook in fear and misery. Tears poured down her face as she lowered her head into the shiny metal bowl. She picked up a single nugget of dog foot between her teeth and slowly, in utter revulsion, sucked it into her mouth. It was hard, bitter, and completely disgusting. It crunched in her mouth as she began to chew it and tasted how she’d imagine spoiled meat might. Dove felt her stomach lurch and a wave of nausea threaten to overwhelm her as she swallowed this first bite. Nonetheless, when she finished the first nugget, she felt herself diving into the bowl for another.
It had been twenty-four hours or more since her last meal. She’d been through an adrenaline pumping, humiliating, tear filled hell. All this meant that she was hungry. Not just hungry, but starving, traumas left the body depleted, and she needed nutriment. It was degrading, sticking her face into this bowl like an animal. But it was either this or starve and she had a feeling this ordeal was far from over. So, she ate, crunching nugget after nugget, reviling the taste but doing what she needed in order to survive.
Carl crouched next to her; she felt his hand on the top her head. Gently he pet her hair and rubbed her neck, exactly as if she were indeed a dog. “Good, girl,” he whispered, as she crunched on the dog food. When she’d cleaned the bowl and lapped up most of her water, Carl was gently scratching her behind her unwounded ear. “Now, Bitch,” he said almost affectionately, “I’m gonna have to put that gag back in your mouth. There’s two ways we can do this. Easy,” he whispered, drawing the flat part of the knife blade across her cheek, “or…” and he let his words hang in the air as he retrieved the gag.
When he returned, Dove immediately opened her mouth and allowed him to gag her again. Carl then secured her in the cage. This time he left the restraints off, but he did lock the door with a small pad lock. “You be good for the rest of the trip and maybe you gets a treat…” He then loaded the cage into the back, secured the tarp over it, hopped inside, and drove off.
Although Dove had no concept of time, trapped in her cage, ten hours passed. This time it was under the beating heat of an unusually warm autumn day. Dove had a lot of time to think, trapped in that cage, sweating and panting from the heat. She’d hoped to have been discovered by now, pulled over by the police because someone had seen the truck run her and Thomas off the road. But no sirens came. She hoped that maybe Carl would still ransom her off, despite what he said about not wanting money. Finally, there was the last desperate thought that given a day or maybe a week, the FBI or some spy satellite would find her and she’d be rescued. She could hold out for a week, right?
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Becoming Bitch