The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

And Your Little Dog, Too

by Pan

Chapter 3

It was wrong.

Betsy knew it was wrong. It was so, so wrong.

But the fact that it was wrong didn’t make it any less true.

She was jealous of her Mistress.

That wasn’t her role. Her role was to serve and obey. Her feelings didn’t come into it. She was only meant to have feelings when Mistress told her to.

But here she was, jealous of her Mistress.

Betsy had a wonderful life. Each morning, she was fed. Sometimes Mistress—or, on rare occasions, Master—would bathe her. She’d wander the house, take care of Atwood’s needs whenever he needed it, and settle down for a full night’s sleep.

She was lucky that her Mistress and Master let her live with them and took such good care of her.

But she wanted more.

Sometimes she’d sit in the room as Mistress and Master copulated. It reminded her of what she and Atwood did, except her Mistress and Master had access to so many more positions. They weren’t restrained by biology, like Atwood was. Mistress would sit on Master’s lap; he’d suckle on her large breasts (much larger than Betsy’s) while Mistress bounced up and down on him, his cock filling her up her again and again.

Betsy would watch, transfixed. She loved pleasing Atwood, of course, but there was something about Master…he was just so big. So manly.

She just knew that they’d be such a great fit.

It made no logical sense, of course. Betsy’s role was to serve, to be Atwood’s plaything, to be Mistress’s slave. But when Atwood was napping and everyone else was out, she’d find herself spending hours staring at pictures of Master on the wall, her heart yearning.

She loved him.

Falling in love with Master. It was probably a very common occurrence, but it didn’t make Betsy feel any less stupid. She wasn’t worthy of her Master’s affection; that was obvious just from looking at her. The Masters of the world ended up with the Mistresss, with their perfect bodies, their charm, their grace.

Betsy, with her floppy ears, her furry belly—she’d never be able to compete with Mistress. She knew that, deep in her heart.

But it didn’t stop her from wanting.


Betsy made her way into the kitchen, where her Mistress and Master were waiting, big smiles on their face.

“Ruff ruff ruff?” she asked, and Master reached down to pat her.

Her whole body shivered at his touch.

“We got you a snack,” Mistress said, in her sing-song voice. Betsy loved her Mistress.

Well, she knew that she should love her Mistress. But in that moment, looking at the two of them standing together…all she could feel was jealousy.

Mistress pulled out a brittle doggy-snack. Betsy resisted for a second, but quickly bounded towards her Mistress and enthusiastically gobbled the snack down, directly from her hand.

Her love for Mistress may have faded, but her love of snacks was unaffected.

Master and Mistress sat around for a few minutes, talking about whatever boring Human matters they needed to discuss, before Mistress stood up, removed her top, and pulled Master into the bedroom with her.

A tingling quickly filled Betsy’s body. She knew exactly what her Mistress and Master were about to get up to.

Typically Betsy would wait for Atwood to find her before she helped release his needs, but when she felt tingly like this, she was compelled to seek him out. He was dozing on the stairs—she moved her soft mouth between his legs, and took his semi-hard doggie dick in her mouth.

She sometimes wished that Atwood and her could speak to each other like Mistress and Master, but that just wasn’t her lot in life. She wasn’t a Human, and she never would be.

As much as she yearned for Human life.

Before long, Atwood was fully hard. For the next few minutes, Mistress licked and sucked on his dick, until the small dog was awake, staring down at her blearily.

It took him barely a moment to realize what she wanted, and she was on all fours, her ass in the air, her face pressed against the carpet as Atwood clumsily mounted her.

He was hardly an elegant lover—she needed to reach down and get him into position. Once he started, it was just several minutes of crude thrusting, his cock pistoning in and out of her while his paws rested on the fur on her back.

But Betsy didn’t need an elegant lover. She just needed to be fucked.

Before long, she was shuddering with pleasure as she climaxed again and again, picturing what her Mistress and Master must be doing in the next room.

Picturing herself in Mistress’s place.

It was wrong, she knew that. So very wrong. To picture herself displacing her Mistress, replacing her in Master’s life. To imagine Master kissing her like he kissed Mistress, holding her, touching her, taking her…

She loved Atwood, and she knew that Atwood loved her. Serving him was his purpose. She existed to please her Mistress and Master, but not like that. Not like an equal.

But no matter what she did, she just couldn’t get the image out of her head. Her and Master, holding hands. Sleeping in a bed together. Getting married…

Atwood’s breathing got even heavier, and his thrusting more erratic as he came. Rope after rope of canine cum filled the furry young woman, and another climax overcame her as it did.

Being with Master was just a crazy dream. Sheathing Atwood’s dick—that was her true purpose. She knew that.

She knew that.

So why couldn’t she stop thinking about alternatives?

For the next forty minutes, Betsy remained in position as Atwood’s knot softened. Her face fell asleep a few minutes before Atwood did—he was slumped against her prone form, snuffling and whiffling in his sleep. It was cute.

She really did care for Atwood. He just…wasn’t Master.


When she could finally escape Atwood’s biological lock, she made her way to the bedroom. It seemed that the Humans were also done copulating. She poked her head around the corner inquisitively—Master was nowhere to be found, but Mistress was sitting on the bed, a satisfied look on her face.

Of course she was satisfied. Betsy would have bet anything that Master left her very satisfied.

“Hello pup,” Mistress said with a warm smile. Betsy yapped in response. Letting her jealousy show would be very unprof…rude. It would be very rude, of that she was sure. “I know I already gave you a snack today, but…want another treat?”

Mistress spread her legs, and Betsy’s eyes lit up. It had been weeks since she’d given Betsy this most special of treats, and no amount of jealousy would be able to stop Betsy from enjoying it.

After a few false starts, she managed to jump up onto the bed. There was a brief pause as Mistress used a pillow to make herself comfortable, then Betsy dove in. She used her snout to sniff out the small crack between Mistress’s legs, and soon her tongue was going as deep as it could, licking up Master’s seed and swallowing it down.

Nothing—nothing—made Betsy feel as satisfied as getting to taste her Master’s cum.

Even when Betsy could no longer detect any trace of the wondrous cream that her Master produced, Mistress held her head between her legs. Betsy kept on exploring, just in case there was more to be found, but she was out of luck. Still, Mistress wanted her to keep licking, and her role was to serve her Mistress.

Before long, Mistress was convulsing with pleasure, and Betsy was treated with another two spurts of Master’s glorious seed, which had been hiding deep inside Mistress.

When she was done, Mistress waved her away with a kind smile, and Betsy made her way back to Atwood. Something about Master’s seed gave her that tingly feeling again—as usual, Atwood was more than happy to help her scratch the itch.

That night, while Betsy slept, strange images entered her head. Herself as a Human, walking around on two legs. Master, but…with a different name. The name that Mistress called him sometimes.



The images kept coming, practically tripping over each other as they raced through her brain. Her and Dan at the beach, in a park, at a…church? At their wedding! Her wildest fantasy was in her dream, in glorious technicolor. She could see color!

More and more flashed through her head, until she awoke, gasping. It was raining outside, and she was cuddled up with Atwood in the small doghouse. His body was pressed against hers, keeping her warm despite the chill outside.

None of it had been real. It was just dreams. Vivid, colorful dreams…but dreams nonetheless.

This was her life. Servicing Atwood, obeying the every command of Mistress.

…and Master.

She moaned. The tingly feeling was back, and it was filling every inch of her body. Master was a good, kind man. Gentle, even. He’d never ordered her around—not like Mistress.

But for some reason, she could imagine it.

“On the bed, Betsy,” he’d command. “I’m going to take you. I’m going to take you with my Human cock, and treat you like my Human wife. I’m going to fuck my seed directly into you.”

She shivered with arousal.

“Woof, woof woof,” she barked softly. Atwood ignored her. “Woof!”

He didn’t stir.

“Grrr,” she growled. No response.

Nudging his legs out of the way, Betsy took Atwood’s cock into her mouth once more. Even if she couldn’t rouse him, she was confident in her ability to arouse him.

Betsy smiled at her own pun.

His cock was sticky with her juices from earlier, and completely flaccid, but Betsy listened to her tingles and pressed on. It took almost twenty minutes of sucking before Atwood’s dick began to respond, slowly plumping in her mouth. She continued to suck it, her eyes rolling back in her head.

If I could just get off without needing Atwood, she mused, this would all be so much easier.

Finally, Atwood was hard. His eyes opened, and as soon as he realized what was happening, he shook his sleepiness away, and enthusiastically mounted Betsy.

It wasn’t easy, pretending the hairy, panting dog on top of her was Master, but Betsy did her best. She could imagine exactly what it would be like to make love to Master. To make love to…


In fact, she could imagine it with incredible specificity. The gentle stoke of his hands across her furless back, the way he’d reach between her legs and stimulate her. The taste of his cock, the feeling of his length filling her up.

His mouth, against hers.

Betsy shuddered with pleasure at the images, the fantasies, the flashes of her dreams. She wanted it so much—to be human, to be fucked by her Master.

To be fucked by Dan.

Atwood yelped as he came inside her, far sooner than she was expecting. Far sooner than she wanted.

For the first time she could remember, Betsy was actually happy to be knotted with Atwood. She panted and strained against him, twisting slightly on his cock, stimulating herself even though he could no longer pump in and out of her. Before long, she was cumming, again and again and again. She howled with pleasure as images of Dan’s cum shooting into her wetness filled her mind.

As she came down from her final orgasm, she realized that Atwood had once more fallen asleep inside her. This time, Betsy wasn’t far behind…

The next few days flew by. Her jealousy of Mistress grew and grew, and she was starting to suspect her Mistress could tell. It wasn’t Betsy’s fault that her lips naturally curled when Mistress entered the room—even when Mistress had a treat, Betsy just couldn’t hide her disdain.

It was against the natural order of things, but she…she hated Mistress. She wanted her life, her body, her relationship with Master, and she just couldn’t help it. This jealousy grew and grew, until she couldn’t seem to hide it, no matter how she tried.

Meanwhile, her love of Master seemed to multiply by the day. Each night, she’d go to bed, her heart overflowing with affection for him. She’d dream of a life they could have had together, a life destroyed by Mistress. A happy marriage, a healthy sex life, a house they shared—all taken away by Mistress, and her ever-smiling face.

Betsy was starting to wonder if she was in heat. Atwood was doing all he could to keep up with her sex drive, humping away at her every time she woke him up with her mouth. But even with Atwood inside her at every possible opportunity, it still wasn’t enough. She wanted more.

One week after she’d first realized her jealousy of Mistress, it happened. She woke up in the middle of a starless night, and she knew.

She knew.

It wasn’t a dream. This, her waking life—this was the dream. No, dream wasn’t the right word for it.

The nightmare.

Mistress had done something to her. Sue had done something to her.

She’d taken her husband, her house, her body. She’d taken her life, and turned her into a sextoy for her dog.

Betsy marched inside the house—well, ‘marched’. She angrily crawled on all fours, through the doggy door, and up to the master bedroom. Her bedroom.

“Woof!” she declared. “Woof, woof woof woof!”

Master—Dan—stirred slightly, but didn’t wake up.

“Ruff ruff ruff ruff!”

Before she could continue, she felt a hand over her mouth.



Sue dragged her down the hallway, into the bathroom. Betsy’s claws clattered on the tile floor, and Sue closed the door.

“Sshhh,” she whispered. God, how did she manage to look this beautiful in the middle of the night? She didn’t even have any makeup on. “Betsy, puppers—what on earth is wrong with you.”

“Grrrr,” Betsy growled in a low tone, and Sue dropped to her knees to stare her in the eyes.

After a long pause, she smiled. Not her normal, charming smile—one that revealed her true nature. A smile of dark, sinister intent.

“You know, don’t you?”

Betsy wanted to bark her response, but Mistress’s hand over her mouth silenced her.

“You know! You little bitch…you know what’s happening. Ah, I knew the fur was pushing it.”

Sue released Betsy.

“Yap!” she replied triumphantly. “Yap yap yap yap yap!”

“Yeah yeah yeah,” Sue said dismissively. “I hear ya. God damn it, I can’t believe you know. How much do you remember? The wedding?”


“The car?”


“The poker game?”

“Yap, yap yap!”

Sue held up one hand, and Betsy—to her horror—found herself obediently falling silent. Some of her Mistress’s commands were just impossible to resist.

“Okay, okay, you remember everything. So I need to…”

Turning back to Betsy, the smile returned to Mistress’s face.

“…actually, I don’t think I need to do anything.”

Betsy’s eyes widened. Sue continued.

“So you know. So what?”


“What are you going to do? You can’t speak, and I don’t think Dan would be one to listen. You bite me, I’ll have you put down. No, you know what? I’ll have him do it. And sure, you might not want to take care of Atwood’s needs…but your body will. And I don’t think you’re going to be able to resist.”

Sue leaned in close, looking Betsy straight in the eyes.

“There’s no way out, little pup. You’re going to keep on living this life. The only difference now is…you know what you’re missing. If you’re a bad dog, you’re going to be punished. And if you’re a good girl…”

Sue spread her legs. Her pussy-lips were puffy, and Betsy’s hyper-sensitive nose could smell it; she and Dan had had sex earlier that night. A fresh load of his delicious cum was inside her.

“…you’ll get treats. What’s it going to be, girl?”

Betsy hadn’t had a full night’s sleep all week. Atwood had fucked her four times the previous day, but it wasn’t enough—arousal was fogging her brain, making it hard to think. She was…she could…

“Good girl,” Sue said, leaning against the bathroom door as Betsy’s tongue buried itself inside her. “Who’s my good little doggie…”