The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Prologue

Ugh, my mom is such a bitch. She needs to chill out before she blows a vein in her head.

Like, I get that she wants me to figure my shit out. But I just graduated a year ago, couldn’t have got in to any good school (why apply when I’m not gonna make it in?), and haven’t been able to find a job anywhere. Every time I’ve had an interview, there was something wrong. Either my boss was gonna be an asshole, or the pay wasn’t worth shit, or it was degrading work. Fuck flipping burgers, I’ve got shit to do. Besides, I’ve got enough friends with decent hookups that I could couchsurf for a couple years before I have to do anything anyway.

So I party. Who the fuck doesn’t? You only live once, right? She doesn’t even know how often I black out and wind up next to some bitch I fucked the night before. By the way, pro tip: you can make bottom shelf vodka taste top shelf by pouring it through a water filter. I just wish these bitches were less needy. I try to leave ’em a morning after pill and bus fare home before I leave. But they always want to text me after, when I don’t even remember their names.

Last weekend, though, I got super fucked up at my buddy’s lakehouse. For once, I remember all of it: the dubstep blaring through the speakers, the taste of the gin, vodka, and Fresca combo I concocted (it sucked, but hey, I had to try it to know), up to the point at three in the morning when I got kicked out for giving the eye to some cockwipe’s girlfriend. I staggered a bit on the way to the car, but it’s nothing a little coffee and charcoal couldn’t fix! Besides, I don’t think the sheriff even patrols out here any more. Nobody really lives in these woods, they’re all owned by rich fucks as vacation spots. On the way home, I thought I saw a shadow cross in front of the car and felt it bump under me. Shit, what was that? Oh well, I’ve got to get home.

I’m lucky I got home when I did, because I was ready to pass out by the time i got there. Twelve hours later, I’m holding frozen peas on my head to dull my headache, which isn’t helped by the hysterical bitch in front of me. Turns out that bump I felt really happened, and it fucked up the hood and the windshield. She should be grateful I came home at all, but no... now she’s going Jesus freak on me (she still goes to church, First Presbyterian, but it’s too fucking early for me), telling me to think of others for a change. Why the fuck should I think of them? They’re living for the same thing I am: to get by and make themselves feel good. At least I’m honest about it.

Man, will this bitch shut the fuck up? She’s giving me a choice: she’s either gonna press charges for my accident and make me work off the debt at her work as an orderly (like I’d want to scrub wrinkly ballsacks twelve hours a day), or she’ll send me off to live with my aunt Lily, and work with her. She’s a dog trainer, and apparently she needs somebody to help clean out the kennels for a couple weeks. I don’t even call her my aunt, because she’s not really related to us: she married my mom’s brother Joey (he was cool, gave me my first joint), and it only lasted a few years before he split. We never saw him again after that, and my mom took it hard, but she and Lily became good friends from it. We don’t see her much, but she calls once or twice a month, and every year I get a birthday card from her with a hundred bucks in it, so she can’t be that bad. She’s a lot more chill than my mom, so the choice is easy: I’lI go visit her and give my mom a chance to get some perspective.

Meeting Lily

My mom called Lily and told her I’d be coming, which she was apparently happy about. She’s still a little tense about last night, but she’ll get over it. In the mean time, since the car is fucked up I’ll be going to her place by train. I grab a duffel bag and put in some working clothes (jeans and T-shirts, mostly), along with stuff for showering and reading on the train. I also stashed some X in the secret pocket, to make things more interesting. With that all set, I grab my phone and wallet and head out for the train station (only a couple blocks away). I try to say goodbye to my mom, but she can’t even look at me. Meh, it’s not a big deal.

Lily lives up in the country, about two hours north by train. It’s a long ride, so I open my GQ magazine and start flipping through. It was all the usual crap: what shorts look better at the beach, who’s the most stylish celebrity, what movies are coming out in a few months. It didn’t take long for me to get bored with it, though, and I just started staring out the window, thinking about stuff.

The scenery is changing from the suburbs to farmland. The sight of cars and buildings, with people running around, got replaced a while ago by the occasional cow pasture among rows of wheat and corn. We’re stopping less often too (thank God). It’s like we’ve totally left civilization, and are heading into some uncharted territory, like in the Yukon or something.

Now we’re getting into the woods. The sun’s begun to set, and the orange light from the dimming sunlight is being filtered through the green leaves, making the whole thing look like it’s on fire. It’s pretty, but a little nerve-racking at the same time, because out here anything could happen, and there’s no one around to even know it’s going on. But that makes it freeing too, like someone could come out here and be whoever they wanted without being afraid of what other people think.

We’re finally at the end of the line, where Lily lives. She’s the only one at the station when I get there; at least I think that’s her. I’ve never even seen a picture of her, but if that’s her, she is a fucking bombshell. She’s got to be twenty years younger than my mom, with short strawberry blond hair, fair complexion with a bit of a tan, and an hourglass figure like Scarlett Johansson. Is it weird that I kinda want her? I mean, we’re not blood relatives, so...

The most striking thing about Lily (or whoever this is) is her eyes, though. If I had to name a color for them, I’d say they’re sky blue; but they also have specks of every other color around the middle. Greens, browns, greys, maybe even a little purple. They’re also large enough to be seen from far away, and have this determination in them. It looks like they can express kindness or cruelty with equal effectiveness, and get what they want either way.

When she sees me, this woman smiles and waves, then signals me to come over.

“Welcome to my neck of the woods. Your mother told me you were coming. I’m Lily: it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

She has a slight accent from Europe somewhere that I can’t place (Britain? Germany?), but her voice is as clear and pleasant as her eyes. Not wanting to keep her waiting, I stick out my hand to shake hers.

“Err... hi. I’ve got my stuff here, so... is your car nearby?”

With a soft smile, she replies, “Yes, of course. Right this way, if you please.” And with that, she strides to the parking lot, no hesitation. I follow her, bag in hand, drop my stuff in her trunk, get into her passenger seat, and we drive off to her house. Lily is totally silent until we get on the main road, then says,

“It’s about ten minutes to my cabin from here. I heard about your accident, by the way. Very naughty of you.”

Not one minute on the trip and I’m already being scolded. Normally, I’d flip out, but for some reason I don’t mind it from her. She’s got a little humor in her voice anyways, so I don’t think it’d be a problem to talk about it.

“Uh... yeah. I went to this party, and on my way back, I guess I hit something.”

“You guess? Do you mean to say you don’t know?”

“No... to be honest, I wasn’t in the best shape to be driving. It was really late.”

“Ah. Too much fun, I take it? A little too much liquid courage?”

My eyes open wide at her bluntness. I’m worried this is going to be a punishment after all. But she laughs after a second.

“Relax. I drank when I was your age. That’s what it is to be young, the chance to make stupid mistakes and live life to the fullest. After all, you only live once.”

Amazing. I’ve never even met this woman, and she already knows me better than anyone else in my family. Then again, she did marry my uncle Joe, so she probably knows a thing or two about partying. What happened to him anyway?

“Yeah... true... did you party like that with Joe? I mean... not to butt into your personal life, but...”

Another disarming smile. “Don’t worry about it, it’s all in the past. Joe was a wild character; that’s what attracted me to him in the first place. But after we had our fun, I wanted to settle down, and he... well, he refused to be tamed. So, that was it. We got divorced, he went his own way, and I’ve heard nothing of him for two years. I hope he’s happy, at least.”

“Oh... sorry for bringing it up. But hey, if you’re both cool with it, no problem, right?”

“Yes, of course. But our marriage did lead me to my profession, in a way. I realized that what I loved wasn’t Joe’s unbridled spirit, but what he could be if he were propped up a bit. Imagine such energy on Wall Street, or in the White House! Sadly, he was less ambitious than I’d hoped. So, I turned my attention to animals. Compared to people, they are much easier to deal with. Less stubborn and more eager to grow and learn than many men, in my opinion.”

“Is that it? Weird connection, but whatever. Hey, speaking of that, what do you want me to do for you while I’m here. My mom said something about...”

“Oh, no need to talk of work tonight, darling. Let’s just enjoy the evening and get better acquainted, shall we?”

Our conversation turns to more polite topics. The weather, the news, music, movies. It doesn’t matter what the subject is, either; with her, I’m always engaged and fascinated. If the rest of my time here was just like this, I think it might be the best vacation I ever had.

We arrive at Lily’s house, and she gives me a tour. The place has a rustic feel, like it’s straight out of Plymouth colony. The back yard is huge, surrounded on all sides by the forest. I don’t think there’s another house for a half mile around. Inside, you have the usual features: living room furnished in leather and hunting trophies, dining room with antique oak set, kitchen with a gas stove. There’s nothing electronic, though; no TV, no computer, corded phone in the kitchen. Lily says she likes her life simple, and doesn’t bother with the outside world much except for her work. Hell, I’d do the same thing, except for the work, if I had the money.

Upstairs, there’s just a bathroom, Lily’s room, and a guest room where she tells me to put my stuff. After the tour, we head downstairs and she whips up a quick dinner of beef stew. We keep talking during dinner, though I should say that she’s doing most of the talking because I haven’t eaten all day, and I’m starving. After dinner, Lily fixes me a soda (birch beer, I think), and we sit on the couch and keep talking. It’s so good to be on friendly terms with one of my relatives for once. I’m barely even paying attention to the conversation anymore; my thoughts keep wandering around as she keeps talking about her life and her work. I can barely keep my eyes open; the journey must have taken more out of me than I thought. But that’s OK... I can just sit here... and drink my soda... and listen... and relax...

Day 1

I wake up in the guest room, my duffel bag beside me, still packed.

What the hell happened last night? I got here, had dinner, and then...

It’s not important what happened last night. That was the best night’s sleep I’ve had in months, anyway. Besides, I smell bacon cooking downstairs. Lily must have made breakfast. I put on some clothes (jeans and a T shirt), and head down to the kitchen. I’m hungry as anything, and—

Collar.

There’s a dog collar sitting on the sideboard by the front door. Why didn’t I notice that yesterday? I always notice dog stuff like that. After all, I’m obsessed with dogs. Always have been. Deep down inside, I want to be a dog. Every time I see one, I get so jealous. Like, why can’t I just live a free, happy life like that?

Wait, where the fuck did this come from? I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way before. When did I want...?

I have so many memories of wanting to be a dog. I can remember dozens of times looking at dogs, and thinking to myself, “I want that.” Or being in a supermarket, walking by the pet isle and smiling at the happy dogs on the food packages, or wanting to get myself a rope bone just because. This is just one more time, that’s all. Nothing special.

I head into the dining room, and Lily is just setting my place at the table. Bacon and eggs, with toast, not bad. We exchange good mornings, and then I immediately dig into the food. It’s so good, my mouth is constantly full. Lily gives me a wry smile, and says,

“Listen, kiddo. I’ve got some errands to run in town this morning, so I’ll be out of the house for a couple of hours. You just eat your breakfast and relax for a while, and we’ll get started when I get back. Sound good?”

I nod in agreement, since I can’t say much with a mouthful of eggs. With that, she’s out the door. I finish my breakfast, wash it down with the coffee she poured me, and then decide I’ll head back to my room to unpack. I wonder what work—

Collar.

There’s the collar again, and with it that rush of secret desires comes back. I walk to the end table and pick it up. The collar is smooth black leather, no name tag, and just big enough for my neck. Why not wear it while Lily’s out? She’ll be gone for a while, and I’ll put it back so she never knows I touched it. My heart racing with excitement, my cheeks reddening with the combined lust and shame of it, I wrap the collar around my neck and latch it closed.

It feels incredible, the tightness of the leather on my skin, the cold metal of the clasp when I first put it on. It’s not so tight that I can’t breathe or that it doesn’t let blood rush to my head. It’s not so loose that it dangles from my neck and chafes. It’s just right. Like Goldilocks. Or maybe like the wolf from Little Red Riding Hood...

I stand there, ecstatic that I’m wearing a real dog collar, full of energy. That blood is rushing to my other head now, as I think of being a dog, anyone’s dog, pleasing them, pleasing myself...

Wait, am I touching myself? Oh my god, I am! Right in front of the door. Not that anyone’s going to come in right now, but I should find a better spot for this... the guest room! I head up to my room, and the first thing I see there is the full length mirror next to the dresser. I see myself in the mirror, and I look like a million dollars right now.

I’m a little short for my age, but I make up for that with a taut physique (5′ 7″, 150 lbs.). I have short, dark brown hair in a crew cut, dark brown eyes, and a prominent chin. It also helps that I’m above average in my cock size. But my eyes are drawn down past my chin to the shiny, smooth collar around my neck. I feel like it completes my look, gives it a focus it never had before. I love how I look in it.

I look in the mirror, into my eyes, and see myself as that much closer to being a dog. I see the dog inside me, lost in my pupils, whining and howling to get out. That inner beast is in there, and the more I stare, the better I know him. I keep looking there, in my eyes, seeing my true self as I’ve always wanted to, as the dog I know I’d love to be. The pleasure of that one thought, of being a dog, is better than the greatest buzz, or the sweetest high, or the most gorgeous woman, or the most triumphant victory. It fills me completely, totally, in pleasure, in my own pleasure that comes from inside me...

I see, there in my eyes, everything I love about being a dog. I see the meals from bowls on the floor, messy and raw and satisfying. I see the walks in the park, the oneness with nature, the other animals around me, the other dogs to play with. I see myself training with my owner, following her every command, doing whatever she wants, and getting treats for doing it. It’s all the dog, and it’s all I ever wanted.

I’m masturbating again. The thought of being a dog is the hottest thing I can think of, and its making me so horny. As my hand slides up and down my thick man-meat, I begin to see a problem: I’m masturbating to the thought of being a dog, but dogs can’t masturbate, because they don’t have hands. It takes a little will, but I stop stroking for a second and try to calm down and clear my head, to get control of myself.

There’s not much of my head to clear. I only have one thought now, one thing I can do to make this even better. I have to get down on all fours like the dog I wish to be. I’ve gone this far in being a dog, so why not go one step further? I lower myself to my hands and knees. If anyone else saw me, they’d probably laugh: a grown ass man on his hands and knees, wearing a collar, staring back at his reflection. But it doesn’t matter, it feels so fantastic. This is the most right anything has ever felt, and the fact that I get off on it makes it that much better. I didn’t even know it was possible to feel this good, and I’ve been trying everything for as long as I remember.

I hear a door creaking open. Then I hear a small slam as it closes. Is my aunt back already? Has it been two hours? Shit that was fast. What am I gonna do? She’s gonna find me here with her collar, and I can’t explain what I’m doing without her thinking I’m a freak. I’ve got to get up, and take off this collar. If I hurry, I can pretend that I was just being curious with it. I have to move, now!

I don’t budge. I’m too nervous. I can’t stand up anyway, without giving up this wave of pleasure that I’ve been riding so long. I don’t want it to end! She’s coming up the stairs, her heels clacking more and more loudly as she does. The only thing I can do is stay put; If I’m quiet, maybe she won’t notice me. Her footsteps are coming behind me now. Shit, it’s all over! I’m dead! I’m—

Ooh, that feels good. Those scritches behind my ear are wonderful. Now she’s running her fingers through my hair, petting me, stroking me. I’m leaning into it, loving every second. She knows all the right spots to scratch, and it feels so great. What was I worried about? It doesn’t matter now, I’m being petted. Now she’s telling me I’m a good dog. I am! I’m such a good dog! As her hands run down my back in full length body pets, I feel like I’m dreaming. But this is real. My dream’s become real, and it’s better than I ever thought. I don’t even have to think about it; I can just enjoy being petted, and scratched, and praised.

Aw, she stopped. Darn it. Is she walking away? Wait!

“Follow me.”

She turns and heads down the stairs, patting her hip as she gives that command, coaxing me with her voice. I trot behind her on my fours. It’s a little slow going down the stairs, but I manage alright. I don’t know what to think at this point: I’m confused about what this could mean, and I’m also so turned on by the whole thing that I don’t care. She heads into the living room, and I follow behind.

When I get there, she’s sitting on the sofa, beckoning me to her. I walk to her side and sit on the floor in front of her. After all, dogs aren’t allowed on the furniture. She smiles down at me with a look of compassion and sweetness.

“Well, this is a surprise. Tell me, what are you doing in that collar? Why are you on all fours?”

I blush with embarrassment as I try to find an excuse.

“Well... um... you see... I just...”

She reaches down and strokes my cheek with one hand. “It’s alright, you know. I won’t judge you. You can tell me anything.”

With that, my doubts about her are gone. She’s the one person I can tell my secret. The first person I’ve ever told, to be honest. My fantasies begin flowing out from me, slowly at first, then with more ease as I get more comfortable and more excited. How I’ve always wanted to be a dog, how dog things make me want it more, and how great it feels to be in this collar. When I’m finally done, she gives me a knowing glance and says,

“Oh, that’s alright. It’s kind of cute. You’re pretty fetching in that collar, if I do say so myself. Tell you what, if you’d like, you can live as my dog while you’re here.”

This is too good to be true. “Really? What about the cleaning and stuff I’m supposed to be doing?”

“I won’t tell your mother if you won’t.”

“Well, I’d love to. But what makes you alright with it?”

“My last dog died recently. That’s his collar you’re wearing. I’ve missed having a dog since then, and if you want to assume the role, it’s all yours.”

Part of me thinks she must be joking, as her reason feels... off, somehow. But it makes total sense to me, and besides, I’ve never had an offer like this before, and probably never will again. It’s a no-brainer; I eagerly nod yes.

“Now, don’t be hasty. If you are going to be my dog, then I’ll expect absolute commitment. You’ll be treated like a dog, and you’ll only have a dog’s rights, not a human’s. Are you sure you want this?”

After only a second of considering it, I smile and nod again. I have to jump at this chance. Lily says nothing, but pets me and praises me again, saying how good a dog i am. And I really am, I feel it with every touch of her hand. This electric wave of pleasure all through my body, overriding every other sensation.

“Now, I have some chores to do in the kitchen, but I’ll be free to play with you all afternoon. But before I go, there’s one small detail we need to take care of.”

I try to puzzle out what she means by that, but before I get anywhere, she commands:

“A dog doesn’t wear clothes. Take off your clothes and leave them in a pile here by the sofa.”

This is awkward. I’ve never stripped for anyone that I wasn’t going to sleep with before. But I remember that part of being a dog, in my fantasy, is dressing like one. So I stand up, take off my jeans and shirt, and then my underwear. To my surprise, it feels normal being naked in front of her. It feels right, totally routine, to have no fabric touching my skin anywhere. Nothing but the leather of my collar, reminding me of my situation.

Lily takes my clothes and heads through a door to the basement. I guess the laundry is down there. While she’s downstairs, I sit like the dog I am, on my haunches, hands in front of me on the ground. One thing I never knew about being a dog is what to do when nothing else is happening. So, I sit and wait for Lily to get back, thinking about all the playing I’ll get to do.

When she comes back up, Lily heads over to the kitchen, and I follow her clumsily behind. She’s cleaning the stove, then cooking some hamburger and other stuff for later. I just wander over to the corner, lie down (after making it comfortable by circling around), and watch her cooking. After that, until she’s done, there’s not much to do. So I just sit and stare at her like any other dog. It’s so peaceful: I can just let her take care of me, without worrying about anything at all.

When the hamburger stuff is cooked, she puts some of it in a dog bowl for me, then fills another one with water and puts that next to it. At first, I don’t really know how to eat it. I don’t want to use my hands or make a mess. But she encourages me to dig in, and I start eating. It tastes wonderful, even better now that it’s coming from a bowl. I shove my face into the bowl, getting each morsel into my mouth and swallowing it almost whole. Some of it gets on my face, and a little is stuck to the sides of the bowl, but that’s OK. I wash it down with the water, trying to use my tongue to scoop it out. It’s a little hard at first, but I build a rhythm and drink the whole thing down.

While I’m eating and drinking, I start thinking that as a dog, this is the normal way to eat. I’ve always eaten at a table with utensils before, but this isn’t any different really. I’m just new to my bowl, that’s all.

When my meal is over, Lily takes me over to the bathroom so I can use it before I go out. When I’ve done my business, she gets a leather leash from the back hall and asks if I’d like to go out to the garden. I’m ready to go, because that must mean it’s time to play. So we head to the back yard, where she picks up a stick from the nearby woods. She waves it excitedly, getting my attention with it right away. Then she throws it, and yells, “Fetch!”

I run after it (as close to running as I can, anyway), pick it up in my mouth, and bring it back. Then I get pets for bringing it back so fast. I did good! Then she takes the stick back and throws it again, and we keep going. I could do this forever. The house, and the woods, don’t hold my attention right now: there’s only the stick, and Lily, and me trying to get the stick. Nothing is more important than that stick.

Before I know it, it’s time to be trained, like obedience school. We go through a bunch of different tricks. She teaches me “Heel,” (by following her close as she walks around the lawn), then “Stay,” (she walks around, I stay put). “Sit,” (I did it before, but now she’s telling me to) “Lay down,” (from sitting, bring my hands forward and put my chest on the floor), and “Roll over,” (from laying down, make my body roll on the ground).

Each one of those needs some practice, but I’m a natural. I do it all perfectly, when she says, without even thinking. And every time I do, she gives me those great pets and words of love. The whole afternoon is a blur of training and attention and fun and work and play.

As the sun sets, Lily takes me over to the hose and sprays me clean with it (all that running and rolling in the grass left its mark). I brace myself for the cold, but it’s surprisingly warm, like a shower. Then she dries me off with a towel, while I press up against her (the wind is a little cold after being all wet), and brings me back to the house. I’m happier than I’ve been in at least five years. The last time I’ve felt like this was coming home from Little League after hitting a home run. I’m exhausted, but had a great time getting there.

I don’t even know I’m hungry until Lily gives me dinner. The same hamburger stuff, but I don’t mind at all since it was so good the first time. As I eat it, I realize how much better I’m getting at eating from the bowl: I could eat from there or from a table with equal effort. It’s like I’ve done both my whole life.

Now Lily is bringing me back to the living room, where she sits on the couch and I sit by her feet. She pets me and tells me how good I was today, and how good I’m being now. It’s the best feeling ever, and I know from hearing her that I’m good. Her voice is so beautiful, that I hang on every syllable, every movement of her lips and tongue and teeth, as she keeps talking... and I keep listening... and being good... good dog... listening... good...

Day 2

What an amazing dream! I’ve never had one that vivid. But... what’s this around my neck? A collar? And why am I down here on the floor, on a cushion? A dog bed?

Oh my god... I’m in a dog bed and collar. That’s so awesome. I wasn’t dreaming, was I? Then that means...

“Rise and shine. How was you first night in your new bed?”

Lily is standing above me, smiling down, petting my head. It’s so great to be here, with someone who understands finally. I really spent yesterday as a dog? And then... then I got here, and I get to keep being a dog. Amazing.

“Breakfast is ready in the kitchen. You must be starving. Come and eat.”

Lily walks toward the kitchen, patting her thigh along the way. I know that means I should follow her, and so I do. It feels so good to follow her. To follow her orders.

She’s filled my bowl already. Roast beef hash, yum! She doesn’t need another gesture to get me to chow down on it. Chow down like I have been, with huge mouthfuls out of the bowl. I wonder if there’s another way to do it. I vaguely remember doing things with my hands, holding stuff in them, to get the food to my mouth... why would I ever do that? All I need is the food and my mouth. There’s no other way I could ever eat.

My food tastes really good, and so does my water after that. Lily’s walking around the house, rubbing things and looking at things. I just follow her, and watch her do it. She spends some time in the room with the sofa, so I just sit in the corner and watch her do it. The fact that she’s here makes me feel really good. It feels good to be with my owner.

My owner. That’s who she is, isn’t it? I love that I finally have an owner. She does what an owner does: she gives me food, she gives me love, she plays with me and trains me. That makes her my owner. She reminds me of flowers from the yard, for some reason. But that doesn’t matter. All that matters is that she’s my owner and I’m her dog. It feels really good to be a dog. Her dog.

She stops cleaning and feeds me again. Like breakfast. My food tastes really, really good. Eating this way feels good too. From a bowl, on the floor. It feels right. I couldn’t imagine eating in a different way. This is how I’ve always eaten my food, anyway.

When I’m done eating, I sit and think about what I’ve been doing. I haven’t been upright for a whole day, except for when I went to the bathroom. Any other time, I’ve been on all fours. Being on all fours is just what I do. It’s how I get around. There’s nothing weird about it.

Now my owner’s getting the leash, and taking me to the bathroom. I really had to go too. Then we head outside, and play some more. We play fetch with a tennis ball this time, and I even catch it in my mouth once. Then we go over more tricks. A little review first: stay, sit, lie down, roll over, heel. All handled like a pro. Then I get a new trick: lick. She holds out her hand, and encourages me to lick it. It feels like a weird trick for a dog, but she’s my owner, and she knows how to train dogs. I lick her hand, and then her foot, and every time I get petted and soothed. It’s natural for me to lick things. I like tasting things, and I like making my owner happy. Doing both is just as good.

She keeps training me, and I keep doing what she says. Every time I do what she says, I do it a little faster, a little more sure. I don’t even have to think about it: when she tells me to sit, I feel my rump hit the ground before I even know what she said. When she says to roll over, I’m on my back before she stops talking. We’re out there for hours, until she brings me back inside for dinner.

Dinner tastes really good, like always. Then we go back to the living room, where she pets me and says things to me. When she says things, it makes me calm, like she’ll take care of me. I’m not even paying attention any more... fading into sleep... fading away... no past... only now... only here... only dog... sleep...

Day 3

I’m in my bed. My owner is petting me. It’s going to be a good day. I eat breakfast, then follow her around the house like normal. That gets boring, though, so I wander around the house, looking for... something, I don’t know.

Things feel different today. Dimmer, less clear. I see things in shapes, but not sharp lines or anything. The colors are different, too... everything’s brown, or blue, or yellow. Nothing’s really bright.

But I hear pretty good. My owner is singing in the kitchen. Sounds pretty. The house creaks a little when I walk, or even when I don’t walk. There’s birds and rabbits outside, in the trees. Also, I can smell my owner’s cooking. Meat. For me, maybe? I hope so. I sniff stuff in the living room. It smells clean, like no one’s been there but me and my owner. But wait! I smell... another dog? It’s faint, but under the clean, it’s there, the dog-smell. Where’s the other dog? Why haven’t I met him?

I hear my owner calling me. She’s done cooking! I rush to the kitchen, ready to eat. I can smell everything in my food. The meat, the veggies, the spices. It makes me drool. I eat it all up. Then it’s time for bathroom and training.

Training is really good. I do all my tricks, I play fetch a bunch. If inside smelled good, outside smells... weird. Lots of new things. Wet logs, dirt, grass, mushrooms. The animals are chittering in the bushes. I want to chase them, but owner tells me to stay, so I do.

While I fetch, I find I can run better than I used to. My front and back legs work together more, and I can see the ball better. It looks so different from other stuff when it’s flying away from me. It’s easier to find it when it drops into the grass.

Now I’m getting tired, so we go inside so I can eat dinner. After dinner, we go to the living room, and I get petted, and scratched, and talked to. Her voice is... magic... lovely... voice... good dog... sleep...

Day 4

In my bed again. Love my bed. Love my owner. She goes to the other room. Will there be food? I follow her in there. She gives me food and water, and I eat it. Tastes good and meaty. Then my owner walks around the house doing things. She has things in her hands, and touches them to other things. What is she doing? I think I knew what these things were once, but I don’t know now. They’re just human things. No need to worry about them. No need to worry about what they do.

Every time I get close to knowing what I’m looking at, I forget. They’re just human things to me. But now she’s in front of the big hot thing, singing like she does. I really want to know what she’s doing, because she does it before I get food. Maybe if I think about it really hard, I can figure it out... it’s... a... stove. She’s... cooking at the stove.

I did it! I figured it out! I’m so good. I did so good figuring it out. Now I know what that big hot thing is. Or, I did... sss... sst... whatever, I figured it out anyway. I don’t need to understand it now. My owner takes care of the big hot thing and the other things I need. Those are human things, and I don’t need to think about them.

Now my owner has my food. But she’s not putting it in my bowl. Why? She’s talking to me now. I better listen.

“You’ve been such a good boy today. Do you like being my dog?”

“Rrr... Res! Ri ruv it! Ri ruv roo, Riry.”

“Oh, really? That’s good. And how was your breakfast?”

“Rericious. Ro-oooo rummy.”

“My, we are frisky today, aren’t we? Tell me about your time here. How has it been?”

I really want lunch, but my owner hasn’t put it in my bowl, so I keep talking to her. But my throat and lips are getting tired. All these sounds are mashing up together into whines, and growls, and barks. By the time I’m done, my owner can’t understand me, because I keep barking instead of using words. That’s OK, I can stop talking. My mind can’t find words anyway. I think in sounds, sights, scents, senses. No words. No talking. Just doing.

But it feels so good to bark. Every bark feels good. Feels real, like me. When I bark, the good feeling goes from my heart to my head to my toes and back. Sounds like me.

Owner gives me food. I eat. I drink. Tasty. Then we go out to play. She throws things and I get them for her. She tells me to do things and I do them. She tells me to “Speak”, and I bark. It feels good to bark. I bark when I’m playing too. When I feel good, I bark, and barking feels good too. With no head-words, I can just play and be a dog. I don’t need to know, or to say, I can just be a dog.

After playing so long, I want food. Owner brings me in and feeds me, and then talks to me while I eat. The food and the talking feel good. Like barking. But no barking now... just eating... she’s talking...

Day 5

Wake up in bed. Owner stands above me. Love owner. Trust owner. Owner takes care.

Life is easy. Eat, then follow owner, then eat, then train, then eat. All feels good, all for owner. After eating, owner, takes me up with her, instead of to my soft place. I go up fast, then wait for her. She sounds happy. She opens the door, then lies on a big thing in there. I stand and watch her. Wait for her. Something comes off her, below her. I sniff it. It’s soft, and smells good, like her.

She’s saying something. “Lick.” She’s pointing between her walkers. She wants me to lick her there? But I shouldn’t be on that thing. I’m not allowed there. I whine and paw at the big thing. She pats it. I guess it’s OK. I jump up on it. It’s soft, and slippery. She says it again. “Lick.” I know how to do that! I lick and lick and lick. Owner is talking, soft like the big thing. Sounds happy. I’m making her happy. I keep licking. Tastes good. Salty and sweet and meaty.

Owner keeps talking, more soft, more happy. Pets me while I lick. I keep licking. Then she screams, and juices come out. I’m scared at first, but the juices taste good. I lick them off. Owner says “Stop,” and I do. She keeps petting me. Calls me good boy. I’m a good boy... a good dog... she’s happy... I’m happy... good...

Day... 7?

In bed. But not in the same place. This is where owner sleeps. Good to be with owner. Feels safe to be here. She keeps me safe. I keep her safe too. I make her happy. I’m good.

Owner’s moving. Up? Up! Yes! Owner’s in shiny room, makes wall between us. Hear water in there. Want to be there with owner. Bored.

Now owner’s out. Owner’s here! Smells different, new. Owner puts on soft things. Now she leaves. No wall! I can go with her! I follow. Owner’s in the food room. I get food? Food! My food! My water! Love food. Love water. Love owner.

Owner walks around, touches human things. Why? She changes them into other things. How does she do that? It’s magic. Must be. Owner’s making things smell new, like her. Aw... I like the way they smelled. But owner likes them new, so I’m happy.

More food. Tastes good. Love taste of owner’s food. Owner has food too, up on the flat thing. I smell it! I want it! I paw at her. Oh, no, she doesn’t like it! I lie down and look up at her. Owner’s grabber. Has... food? Food! Owner’s got special food. Gives it to me. Some is weird, tastes like water. Some I don’t like at all. But owner gives it to me, so I eat it.

Outside? Yay, outside! Outside with owner. She has the connector thing that keeps me close. I don’t need that, I want to be close. Ball! Ball’s flying. I’ll get it! I got it! Mine! Tastes good, squeaky. Owner calls me. I take the ball. She pulls it. I want it! Owner wants it, too, though. I drop it.

Now she’s making me do things. I love that. I move when she says. Stop when she says. Sit, lie down, stand. Owner makes me do lots of things, lots of times. Sometimes she doesn’t even say, just makes her grabbers a shape and the shape means I sit. When I do a thing she likes, owner pets me and talks to me. She’s happy about me being good. I’m happy too. Love my owner.

Dark outside. We go in. More food for me! Good, want food after play. I eat. I drink. I’m happy. Now we go to bed. Owner puts me in bed, talks to me. Love owner... feel... happy... owner... good... dog...

Day

Eyes open. Good day. Good dog. Happy to be good. Happy to be dog. Happy with owner.

Owner wakes up. Does things. We go down to food room. I eat. Owner goes to wall-thing, talks at it. Is she talking to me? Don’t know. Don’t get it. All just sounds. Sounds like when she trains me. But no “Sit,” or “Stay.” Training the wall-thing? Owner smiles. Wall-thing did good? Then she puts wall-thing back. Comes back to me. Owner! Love owner.

We’re going out. But I have to go... I didn’t go today. Feels bad. Can’t go here. Shiny room? No, we go out. Owner digs hole, with big long thing. Hole smells like dirt. Owner points at hole. Do I go in hole? Don’t know if I should. Shaking hard. Scared? Hear yelling, not from owner...

The fuck is happening! I’ve been acting stupid and shitty all week, and now I have to fucking shit in a hole? This is too much, I can’t fucking do this! Get up, get out, call the cops, fucking do something!

Face all hot. Feels wrong. But owner wants it. Do it. I squeeze, and water and stuff comes out. Feels so much better... But she’s there, looking at me. At my business. Feels like fire inside... I burn. Have to cool off. Lose the burning. Lose the shame. No shame. No call for shame. Just dog. Focus on dog, shame will go away. More dog... less other... less shame... more dog... more dog... less shame...

Owner takes me to long thing with water coming out. Covers me with water. Cool water. Cools me down. Good. No more hot. Good dog. If I’m good, I won’t feel more of the hot. Don’t like the hot. Not good dog yet. But don’t remember not being dog. Just want to be dog. Good dog. Will be best dog.

Owner’s making me do things. Things I can do. Feels good to know I can do it. Can listen to owner. Obey owner. Do all the things for owner. Be good. Obey owner. Love owner.

We go in. I get food. We go up. She says things. I don’t know what she says, but like the sounds. Good... sounds... owner... obey...

Day

Awake. Owner happy. Love bed. Love owner. Owner goes down. Follow owner.

Food! Eat. Yum. Drink. Good. Noise. “Ding dong” sound. What? Owner goes to sound. Follow owner. See shape through wall. Like owner? And something else? Owner opens. Is other thing like owner. But Not-Owner. With close-keeping thing. Big dog on it. Male. All black. Over me.

Dog scares me. Whine. Want to run. Want to play with dog. Why dog? Who is dog? Want to sniff dog. Know dog. Who is Not-Owner? Feel hot again. Voice...

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME WITH THIS SHIT! Who is this bitch?! Why the fuck is Aunt Lily letting her see me like this. Nothing but a collar on, and this bitch is laughing at me. FUCKING WHY!!!

Want dog to chase. Run. Dog follows. Sniff. Dog has balls. Smells good. Powerful. Alpha. Alpha plays. I play. Alpha wrestles. I submit. Lay on back. Give neck to Alpha. Want to be his. Feels good. But new. Never felt like this. Not-Owner scratches my head. Feels really good. Pats body. Pats rump. Good.

Alpha runs around house. I follow. Play with Alpha. Alpha wins. I feel good. Want to be Alpha’s. In Alpha’s pack. With Alpha. Belong to Alpha. Alpha’s bitch. Want Alpha happy. Want Alpha inside me. Alpha’s cock. In me. Warm.

Owner’s voice? Listen. Please Alpha. Make Alpha feel good. I feel... different. But I still want to pleasure my Alpha. I feel under him for his sheath. His cock is under there, already hard (is there a bone in there?). I feel a big bump at the base, and start to rub it back and forth. He’s already humping. Good, he likes it. His cock is coming out now. It’s... Jesus, it’s huge. It’s like 10 inches, mostly pink with some red splotches here and there, especially at the pointed tip. That bump at the base is bigger now, and has started throbbing a little bit.

I put the tip in my mouth, covering my teeth with my lips to avoid biting him. Then I start moving them up and down, using my tongue to tease the tip. He’s still humping a little, but I guess he knows to stay put while I do all the work for him. That’s it, Alpha. Just feel me pumping you. So good, Alpha.

I think I hear women’s voices. Doesn’t matter, though, Alpha hasn’t cum yet. I start sucking up and down the shaft, more and more quickly, my tongue a tornado on his hot rod. Every second, I’m thinking of how good that cock would feel in my other end. How I want to be his bitch. His bitch... the thought makes me shudder in pleasure. Alpha groans, and then I feel hot liquid shooting out. I did it! I swallow every drop. Don’t want to make a mess, after all. So good. I take him out of my mouth, and he cleans himself up. So macho.

I hear a little laughter, and then light applause. Lily and the other woman are clapping for me. Shit, did they watch that whole thing? Goddamn, I’m mortified. The blood is rushing to my face as I feel the shame of my act. I pleased a dog, and in front of people, and it felt good. The fuck did I do? I’m no better than the dog I just sucked off. No better... a dog... If dog, I don’t burn. Just be good. Good dog. Breathe. Obey. Dog. Just dog.

Still feel burn. Want to go away. Away from owner and Not-Owner. Run to other room. Think... think... only think of Alpha. Alpha’s cock. Being Alpha’s bitch. Want Alpha. Good bitch for Alpha.

Go back to room with Alpha. Alpha on connector with Not-Owner. Owner and Not-Owner make sounds. Not-Owner leaves with Alpha. Whine, want Alpha. Owner pets me. Good dog. Owner goes to food room. Food! Tastes different... like Alpha. Miss Alpha. Tastes good. Owner pets me, makes sounds. Feels good... relaxing... love owner... dog... hear other voice...

This is it, isn’t it? I’ll never be human again, will I? I wish... I wish I’d cared more when I had the chance. I’m sorry...

Day

Wake. Owner. Day? Day! Love owner! Good dog. Owner to food room. Food good. Owner good. Follow owner. Owner makes sounds to wall-thing. Puts wall-thing back. Does this many times. Boring. Just watch owner. Maybe food? Play? Love owner.

Owner brings connector. Go out. Make water. Squeeze out stuff. Feels good. Owner puts connector on wall, then goes in. Owner? Want to follow. Can’t. Sad. Bark for owner. Owner comes out. Food? Food! Food outside? Good. Love owner. Eat food. Wait for owner.

What is owner doing? Don’t know. Don’t need to know. Trust owner. Love owner. Hear owner? Noises from inside. Sounds like owner. Some from owner, some like owner, some less like owner. Deep like Alpha-groans, but like owner too. Miss Alpha. Miss owner.

Owner’s back! Love owner! Owner takes connector, takes me inside. Things like owner inside All sounds happy. Makes me happy. All pet. Some scratch ears, some rub belly, some pet rump. Love pets. Feel good.

All go to soft room. Go with owner. Some tall, some short on big soft thing. Owner takes me in front. I do tricks. Sit. Stay. Lie down. Roll over. Every trick makes them happy. Makes owner happy. Makes me happy. Then ones on big soft thing take off things. Some have holes, like owner. Others have cocks, like Alpha. Not as big. Miss Alpha.

Owner says lick. Whine. Don’t know. Voice...

So I’m a dogwhore, now, am I. I don’t know what’s worse, the faggoty shit or the old cunts that smell like rotten anchovies. Fucking disgusting. I won’t do it, you can’t make me do it, I swear to God...

Owner says lick. I lick. All taste different. All taste good. Lick each til I get juice. Then lick juice. Like juice. Love owner. They’re happy. Owner’s happy. I’m happy.

Not-owners leave. Quiet. Just owner. Owner pets. Makes sounds. Feels good... Am good... good dog...

Day

Wake. Owner here. Love owner. Good. Owner goes to shiny room. Why? Follow owner. Owner fills big thing with water. Owner pats side, makes sounds. In? In. Get in. Warm. Feels good. Owner pets. More sounds. Puts slippery stuff on. Smells new. Darn, like old smells. But owner is happy. Oh well. Water leaves. Owner uses soft thing to take off water. Shake off more water. Owner leaves. Follow owner. Love owner.

Food! Food really good. Tastes really good. Water good too. Owner gets connector thing. Outside? Yes! But other way. Big shiny thing. Smells different. Owner takes away wall, pats in big shiny thing. Big box with soft thing inside. In? In. Small, but can move. No seeing. All walls. No see owner. Hear owner on side. Then... moving? Why moving? Why box move? Don’t get it...

Where the fuck is this psychotic bitch taking me? She put me in a cage like some fucking wild animal. And for what? What’s going to happen? Where the fuck are we going?

Don’t need to get it. With owner. Hear owner sounds. Trust owner. Love owner. Happy with owner. Happy. Safe with owner. Feel safe. Moving. Rumbling. Quiet... love owner... sleep...

Owner takes away wall. Awake. Owner! Love owner. Owner puts on connector thing. Owner pats side. Follow owner. Go in big place. Ground soft. Lots of things like owner. Making noises. Pointing at me. Some happy. Some less happy. Feel weird. Hot...

THE FUCK IS THIS BULLSHIT! ALL THESE FUCKING PEOPLE STARING AT ME, CRAWLING THROUGH THE HALL LIKE A FUCKING BITCH! WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH THEM?! WHY DON’T THEY STOP IT?! WHY DON’T I STOP IT?! RUN! GET UP AND RUN, YOU FUCKING RETARD! JUST FUCKING GO!

Follow owner. Trust owner. Good dog. Other things don’t matter. Only owner. Love owner. Sometimes other things pet. Make sounds. Scratch. Love pets. Love owner.

Follow owner. Owner takes away walls. Behind walls, more rooms. More things like owner. More pets. More scratches. Follow owner. Love owner. Lots of walls. Lots of scratches. Love owner. Last room really, really big. Lots of things like owner. Follow owner through things. Through pets. Owner goes up on big front thing. Follow owner. Love owner.

Owner stands behind tall wood thing. Makes sounds to things like owner. More sounds from things. Owner takes off connector thing. Makes me do tricks. Tricks for things...

THE FUCK AM I, A BACKFLIPPING POODLE! I’M NOT GOING TO PARADE AROUND IN FRONT OF A ROOM FULL OF FUCKING SHITHEADS. THIS ISN’T HAPPENING! FUCK THIS, NO! NO NO NO NO NO NO NO!

Good dog. Know all tricks. Do all tricks. Sit for owner. Lie down for owner. Roll over for owner. Lick for owner. Heel and follow owner. Stay for owner. All for owner. All with no trying. Just doing. Doing for owner. Love owner.

Things like owner make noises. Soft noises. Hear noises behind me. Smell... Alpha? Alpha! Love Alpha! Alpha here? Turn back. See Alpha. Big. Powerful. My Alpha! But...

THE FUCK IS THIS DOG DOING HERE? I’VE HAD ENOUGH OF THIS BULLSHIT, THERE CAN’T BE MORE! UNLESS... HE’S HERE TO FUCK ME IN THE ASS?! THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH THESE PEOPLE! THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH ME! GET OUT! CALL THE FUCKING POLICE! CALL ANYBODY! JUST FUCKING BAIL, YOU FUCKING ASSCLOWN!

Owner makes sound. Know what to do. Love owner. Love Alpha. Look at things like owner. Put down front legs like lying down. Present for Alpha. Wag for Alpha. Want Alpha. Want Alpha inside me. Belong to Alpha...

WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU YOU PIECE OF FUCKING SHIT BENDING OVER FOR A FUCKING MUTT LIKE A FUCKING BITCH IN HEAT FUCKING ASSHOLE FUCKING WHY STOP IT THERE’S NO FUCKING WAY FUCKING DON’T STOP FUCKING AROUND AND GET OUT FUCKING CUNT NO DON’T GO DON’T FUCKING LEAVE FUUUUUUUUUCK!!!!!!!!!!

Ready for him. For Alpha. Alpha comes closer. Feel Alpha’s breath on rump. Hot. Smells meaty. Love Alpha. Feel Alpha lick. Hot. Wet. Rough. Longer than my licks. Feels good. Feel weight. Hair. Heat. In heat for Alpha. Need Alpha. Feel Alpha. Closer to me. Humping. Feel Alpha. Help Alpha. Closer... closer... in!

First hurts. Big. Stretching. But... so good. Feel heat in back. Heat in front. Water-maker growing. Bigger. Hotter. All heat. Good heat. Bad heat. Heat in face. Heat in back. Heat in water-maker. Happy. Hurt. Happy. Hurt. Hot. Happy. Love Alpha. Stay for Alpha. Make Alpha happy. Alpha keeps humping. Into me. Making me his. All his. He gets bigger. In me. I get bigger. Faster. Hotter. Happier. More. Faster. Hotter. Alpha. Love Alpha. His...

Both make juice. Him in me. Me in front of me. Feels so good. Shoots out. Shoots in. Feel all over. Feel hot...

Fuck... I can’t... no... no more... can’t... stop... no... more... done...

Bad heat gone. No more bad heat. No more voice. Only good heat. Good for Alpha. Good dog. Love Alpha. Love owner. Stay with Alpha. Alpha in me. Stay in me. Stay with me. Always. Love Alpha... Alpha gets out of me. Belong to Alpha. Clean Alpha. Thank Alpha. Now in Alpha’s pack. Nuzzle Alpha. Love Alpha. Love owner.

Owner puts on connector thing. Owner takes me to tall wooden thing. Sit by owner. Love owner. Owner makes sounds. Things like owner make sounds. Don’t get it. Why sounds? Why raise grabbers, other things? No need to get it. Trust owner.

Big bang! Owner? Owner has thing in grabber. Makes sounds. Takes me away. Good. Just me and owner. Into room with big soft thing. More sounds from owner. More pets from owner. Love owner. Good. Good dog. Other thing like owner comes to soft thing. Makes sounds. Owner makes sounds. Love owner. Owner looks at me. Makes sounds. Points at other thing. Other thing... weird... other thing? Not other thing... owner! Love owner. Owner forever. Takes care of me. Love owner. Other thing boring. Why other thing have connector thing in grabber? Owner takes connector thing. Good. Go with owner. Trust owner. Love owner. Follow owner away. Good. Good dog.