Victor - the last chapter

This is the end of Victor's story, unless anywone else wishes to take up the thread. If you want to do so, please feel free.

There are loose ends - quite deliberately. How does Victor's training continue? Remember that the house and money are his and held in a trust controlled by his lawyer. Does Victor become Labby's bitch, either for his own pleasure or for Colin and Harry's amusement? Might his doctor discover what has been done and try to rescue him< Does he still have the potential for speech or were his vocal cords at
ltered whilst he was under the knife? All kinds of possibilities are there and the fireld is open to anyone, but from me, the end.


PS. I have one more story on file - a magical transformation story in which the heri is changed into being physically a real dog whilst retaining his human mind and awareness. Does anyone want it?

Chapter 12.

I knew something was wrong when I woke up. I wasn’t in my own bed but in a high one and when I tried to move my head I couldn’t. I was immobilised. I was swathed in bandages, including my head.

I tried to ask what had happened but I had forgotten the collar and it hurt. That mattered less than usual because everything hurt.

Colin came in. “At last you are awake. We put you to sleep that evening so that we could make everything a wonderful surprise for you. All the surgery is done, and there is a bonus that we wanted to keep as a real surprise. One of Harry’s friends is a plastic surgeon and he jumped at the chance to experiment and do something new, so now you have a beautiful muzzle. Wonderful, isn’t it? We can’t wait to take off all the bandages and we know you will love it.”

I was far from sure about this, but all I could do was wait and see. Being confined to bed, I had time to reflect, and when I looked back I could see the many ways in which I had been conditioned, or trained if you prefer, to become the pup I now was. The collar, so convincingly presented as a training aid, the pup talk associated with pleasure, especially food and sex, and lately the pleasure setting in my ‘wedding’ collar. I had never particularly enjoyed watching Colin and Harry making love whilst I was left out, but now , even when the collar was not switched on, I loved it. I had never got pleasure from licking them clean, but now I loved it. I felt that Labby and I were increasingly the family pets.
For a few days I could only take liquids through a tube, and then the big day came. Harry’s friend was there to take off the dressings on my head, and when he finished unwrapping he exclaimed how successful he had been. He brought me a mirror, but it was difficult to see. My face seemed to be a mass of bruises and I couldn’t focus very well.

“We put a little extra bone between your eyes as part of the muzzle, so your eyes are more on the sides of your head than they were. But it is beautiful. When the bruising goes down you will have a head to be proud of. The muzzle is short, but it will mean that you can eat from a dish without your nose getting in the way, and you can drink with no risk of getting water up your nose. I’m so grateful to you and the boys for giving me this chance to do new work, for only a very few people want to live as you have chosen and to have these modifications. Be very careful with your tongue, by the way. It is much longer than it used to be and you could easily bite it.”

Colin and Harry were at my bedside, and they started to take off the other bandages. All the attachments for my old paws had gone and it looked as if the new ones would appear to be part of me, but again there was bruising so it was hard to see.

“The balls are a triumph” Harry said. “We discovered that there is a technique used by some show dog owners. They have a stainless steel shell which fits over the dog’s own balls and makes them seem bigger. They call it a nutshell for obvious reasons. We got the heaviest pair we could for you so that you will hang low. It won’t interfere with your normal function, it’s purely cosmetic. The tail is a disappointment. It’s there but we couldn’t find a way to make it workable. It’s attached to those little bones at the base of your spine so perhaps you will be able to do something with practice. The feet though are wonderful, and now they are permanent, really part of you. They can’t be removed without surgery so there is no going back.”

I had felt unnaturally calm and contented with all this, but I knew it was the collar at work. Inside I wanted to scream. They hugged me

“We knew this was exactly what you wanted” Colin said. “You have been so happy as a pup, so we did everything we could to make it possible because we love you. Please don’t look so sad – this was the best gift we could offer you.”

I couldn’t comment. Clearly they meant every word and were genuinely delighted for me. All I could do was nod and try to smile. To see their happiness made me happy, and for them to see my unhappiness would make them sad, so I gave a little bark for my new masters and decided to make the best of my new life. It was better than the wheelchair anyway.

I had to learn to walk again, and one of the oddest things was that for a while I felt as if there was a ton weight between my legs, but I became used to it and learned to love the swing of my balls, especially during sex.

There was no shortage of good sex but I sometimes wondered if now I was simply a sex object and what the other two was doing was treating me as a toy or a pet.

I started to think about it, though. When I was confined to bed, I’d had time to reflect, and when I looked back I could see the many ways in which I had been conditioned, or trained if you prefer, to become the pup I now was. The collar, so convincingly presented as a training aid, the pup talk associated with pleasure, especially food and sex, and lately the pleasure setting in my ‘wedding’ collar. I had never particularly enjoyed watching Colin and Harry making love whilst I was left out, but now , even when the collar was not switched on, I loved it. I had never got pleasure from licking them clean, but now it seemed wonderfully intimate. Labby had taken to licking me clean when I retired to the bed we shared, and I suspect he had acquired a taste for the cum that leaked from me, both mine and theirs, but I never expected to become his equal and trained to enjoy that same cleaning exercise. I felt that Labby and I were increasingly the family pets.

Yes, Labby and I had become good friends – far more than man and dog might normally be, and as my new face healed, we became even more alike. I enjoyed the abdication of responsibility that I had found in accepting Colin and Harry not simply my friends and lovers but also the ones in charge of my life. Submitting to their love gave meaning to my life these days. I loved the way we shared our meals, sitting at their feet as they petted me or passed me titbits from the table and licking their hands to thank them, and I enjoyed sitting by them in the evening using my tongue to pleasure them and giving myself pleasure by doing it.

Life was very different, but on the whole it was a good life and I realised that they had known me better than I knew myself and their gift was a true gift of love, and I looked ahead not with that first bitterness but with delight at what the future might hold.