Dogslave Part 3

dogslave - Part 3

Chained in my cage, in total darkness, i knew i should sleep as much as possible to be ready for the ordeal that lay ahead but i couldn't help but think back to the first night i had spent in this cage. Then i had been turned on by what i had experienced - until the discomfort of being in a cage for hours at a time had got to me. It was then i had made that terrible blunder of seeking to control my own destiny just after i had formally handed it over to another. Now i had very different emotions to keep me awake.

The cramped conditions of the cage hardly entered my consciousness any more - i was used to that, as i was to the collar around my neck and the various electrical devices that had been used to control, tame and train me. Part of me was apprehensive because i had seen something of my Master's capacity for violence and anger when i disobeyed. But mostly i reviewed the days of training, concentrating on remembering everything i had learned at the hands of the indifferent trainers. i kept revisiting these scenes in my head, playing them over and over. Yet part of me recognised that i was wasting my time. It was no longer a case of me remembering orders, commands, modes of behaviour. These were all 'programmed' in me - i didn't have to think when i heard a command, i simply executed it without the semblance of a thought passing through my head.

But there was one conscious thought sitting at the centre of my mind. i had changed a hell of a lot in the past five days or so but more than anything else i realised that the last of my human behaviour - when i took the collar off, when i tried to speak or stand up - these were the last vestiges of my struggle not to accept the submissiveness which lay at the heart of my being. Up to that point i had been playing with the idea of finding the heart of my submission - but it was something that i wanted to put on and off like a coat. i had been brought to the point where i had to confront the fact that i was living a lie in my everyday life - i saw now that my dog life represented my real nature. Before i had come to this place i reckon that 95% of my life was spent in living in the 'real' world and only 5% given over to my slave nature. That had been overturned, i knew it, i felt it in every part of my being. What i didn't know was the new percentages.

Therefore, having been denied even a sight of my Master for days, i was determined to prove to him that not only had i learned all my lessons but that i had really learned my 'big lesson' and wanted nothing more than to be the dog that He desired me to be. Finally, despite all the tossing and turning in my mind, i did sleep long and soundly and contentedly so that i was awake and ready and primed long before he came to me.

And now he was coming. i heard the boots sounding all the way down the hall; then the key in the lock. Quickly i was on my knees, facing the door of my cage, my tongue hanging out, panting and whimpering with excitement, straining at the chain which fastened my collar to the bars. The door opened and He stepped in, locking it behind him. i kept my eyes lowered for, dog though i am, i am also a slave and know my place when confronted with my Master.

He walks towards the cage and now his boots are in my line of vision. At the sight of them, i can't help it - i start barking and barking as if i would never stop.

"Enough!" he says, not harshly but firmly and quietly.

"Welcome your Master, dogslave." He sticks his right boot through the feeding hole of my cage and i fall on it, slobbering and licking and so proud that he has granted me this honour. i lick and lick as if my life depended on it and indeed i have now convinced myself it does. For if i do not measure up to his exacting standards i know i will have failed and the price to pay will be to be rejected, now and forever. Today represents my best chance of finding myself and ensuring my happiness for as long as i live. i will not fail! And so i lick and lick with obsessive concentration, not thinking of the mundane, idiotic things that used to flit through my mind in similar situations in the past - 'How long is this going on for? i wonder if my tongue is getting black….' No, at that moment there is nothing more important than the boot in front of me, now slick and wet. It is taken away from me and i whine in frustration but then the left boot appears and i attack it with even more energy if such a thing were possible.

i have lost all concept of time - i no longer know how much time i spend on any one activity as whatever it is becomes the entire focus of my behaviour. Everything seems to pass in a wonderful dream - being released from my cage, showing off my new skills in terms of canine actions and reactions. i have found that space where everything seems easy and natural to me. If i stopped to think i would know just how fulfilled i am but conscious thought has gone - i am instinctively a dog.

Of course, i fuck up from time to time - there is still fine-tuning to be done; i have to learn the subtlety of inflection that my Master uses to convey his exact requirements. And i am punished for these evidences of falling short of the ideal. i am chained by a short length of chain from my collar to a ring on the floor and he whips me; no build up, no special considerations just short, sharp punishment, administered not cruelly but effectively and dispassionately. And i not only bear it without a murmur (or even a whine!) but want it, need it. i want it harder because i know that i have deserved it; i am disappointed that he doesn't whip me harder because there is nothing i would not do or undergo to prove myself worthy of my Master's attention.

He whips me to remind me that i am not only dog but also slave and must be punished accordingly. The tails of the whip lap around my chest or my cock and balls from time to time but, so deep am i in my world of slavery that though they hurt more and would normally provoke me to tears or complaint, they have the effect of making me curl my body into the strokes, relishing their kiss. i say the punishment is short but i suppose what i really mean is that it is all too short for me. Pain is pain - it hurts. When i made my first tentative steps into this type of activity i thought that through some miracle a beating would not hurt. Of course it hurts - especially at a time like now when it is meant to hurt and punish, not titillate. But i want it to send me, i will it to send me, down, down, down into the darkest recesses of my mind where it becomes the purest pleasure.

He knows all this as he whips me because he says (and i can hear a laugh hovering behind his words), "If I ever suspect that you are fucking up in order to be punished, you can be sure I'll devise something much nastier for you, you pervert scum."

But i know he is pleased with his assistants. They have turned me into the dog i had always toyed with the idea of becoming. His task is to make sure that the slave is not forgotten. And it was to this that he gave his fullest attention after i had been fed coarse food from my dog bowl and spent an hour or so of rest in my cage.

When he returned, he had brought a black leather bag with him. He sat on a chair while i lay at his feet, my chin resting on one of his boots. From time to time his hand would stroke me, or scratch behind my ears. Finally he stood and removed all the electrodes that were still fastened to me. They were unnecessary - i hadn't felt a jolt of electricity in days, it hadn't entered my mind to do anything but behave in a fully dog-like way.

"you have done well, dog, considering how badly you started the training process. you know that you have been brought face to face with your real nature. you know that you are now where you want to be. But the process isn't over yet. Now you must be marked so that all others who use you in the future will know what you are. The chain around your neck will never come off - you already know that. But nor will the other rings I put on you."

So now i knew what was in the bag. my dog training deserted me for a moment as i realised that i was going to be pierced without anything to dull the pain, not even a heightened sense of being a slave which had seen me so well through the punishment beatings. Of course, i didn't react in any overt way but he saw the flash of fear in my eyes.

"you'll endure this for me, slave; without a murmur, without a word as you've been taught. you'll endure it because it's what you want and need. I know you'll suffer through it but you'll be so proud once it's done." He laid his implements out. i could not bring myself to watch because needles have always terrified me. my heart was beating wildly and yet there was a curious sense of calm behind the fear and i reached out to that to help me through. His final act of charity was to gag me firmly - not so much, i imagine to prevent me crying out or breaking the code that only dog noises should be heard from me but to give me something to bite on, to grit my teeth on.



To be continued.....