My Lady                  by: Debbie Cybill

 

Chapter 1: Getting acquainted

I FIRST met the Lady who was to become my Mistress at a party given for the retirement of a mutual acquaintance. She and I were about the same size, 5’ 11" and scrawny at 130 pounds, though in her heels she towered over me. I liked that. That she towered over me and dominated me, I mean. Please forgive me if this narrative is a little incoherent in places. It is because I am using voice recognition software since I can no longer use the keyboard of a computer or even a pencil.

We hit it off immediately. This was unusual for me, for I am a shy and retiring person, not given to party-going, a loner really, passive and given to meditation, and it was only because of the nature of the farewell party that I was here at all. We talked animatedly, and to my surprise, at the end of the party, she suggested going to her place for a nightcap. I would never have taken the initiative to have made such a suggestion. I had no car, for I had only recently graduated and was working in a dead end job with no real prospects.

We drove over to her home in her Porsche. Her house was surprisingly opulent for a young single woman and had a secluded walled garden at the back. I mentally compared it to my own cramped quarters. That night I lost my virginity. I realize now that my love-making was crude, but My Lady complimented me and thanked me. She certainly had an orgasm, so I know she was not dissatisfied. Since then she has taught me a great deal about how to please her.

Two days later she called me at work. I did not immediately recognize the name, for the call came from a major stock broker company. I learnt later that she was the CEO of this company, which she had built up to a major marketing force in a mere three years. It provided her with an income of well over a million a year. She suggested dinner at her place that night.

My Lady cooked a gourmet dinner that night, cuisine mince of course, for neither of us wished to put on weight. Afterwards I cleared the table and washed up, while she sat by the fire in the den. Once I had finished I walked up to her. She simply said, "Sit!" and without thinking about it I sank down on the floor at her feet. She reached over and fondled the back of my neck, and scratched me behind the ears. I responded by rubbing my head against her stockinged leg. We sat like that chatting for a brief period, my erection slowly developing, and then without anything more being said we were stripping each others’ clothes off and making love in a tender and delicate manner.

A mere week later I moved in, giving my landlord notice and paying an extra week’s rent. I carried my few possessions in three garbage bags, all except for my one good suit which was in a flimsy plastic garment bag. My Lady took one look at what I brought and threw it all into the garbage. "You won’t need any of that now, my Pet."

I was already allowing her to dominate me and to make all decisions. I accepted my passive role, for that was my true inclination, but I wondered about my clothes. She took me to the mall and there bought me a new pair of jeans, two pairs of jockey shorts, one tee-shirt, two dress shirts and two pairs of socks, nothing more. I was wondering what her intentions were.

 

Chapter 2: Selecting a Pet

I WAS something of a loner in college, chiefly because I was so immersed in my work, but because I am so tall for a woman quite a few guys tried to hit on me and I was no stranger to sex. My work at college was not just course work. When I was 16 my godmother died and left me a legacy of $5,000 which I immediately invested in the stock market. That began my life-long fascination with the stocks and shares. I studied the market assiduously, and by the time I left school I had turned that initial legacy into an investment not far short of half a million.

I had my set-backs, of course, but on the whole my business affairs prospered. All through college, where I was taking a degree in economics, I continued to play the markets, always with much preparation. By the time I graduated my net worth was over five million. I am telling this not to boast, but simply to explain how it came about that I could afford an affluent lifestyle.

I took the stock-brokers’ course, and bought myself a seat on the stock exchange, as well as a house with a walled garden on a secluded street and a good car. For a time I contemplated joining one of the major brokerage houses, if they would have me, but decided instead to start my own company. That proved the right decision, and my company now manages about seven hundred million in funds and provides me with an annual income of over a million.

But that’s enough about my career. Naturally, all that hard work left me little time for any kind of sex life. In fact, I had more sex at college than later, though I did have one or two brief affairs. But it was not just my work that stopped me from having a relationship, it was simply that all the men I dated demanded more of me than I was prepared to give. They all wanted to dominate me, to act the macho-man.

The most interesting man had been one of my fellow students in college, a man a little older than me and already a graduate student when I was in my first year. His name was Norman Anand, and he seemed on the verge of an important career in genetics. He was great in bed, but, like all the others, too demanding, expecting me to wait on him.

What I really needed, I decided, was simple uncomplicated affection, more what one might expect from a pet dog, absolute devotion and undemanding trust, but combined with an ability to please me in bed. How would I ever find such a man?

It was my old college chum Mary, who had been my room mate for my second year, who pointed me in the right direction. She was married to just such a man.

"Men like Joe are a rare commodity," she told me. "Joe is kind and loving, will do almost anything for me, allows me to make all the decisions and simply adores me without making any demands."

"Just what I need in a husband," I said.

"Why don’t you come along with me next Saturday to our dining club. There are five couples who come regularly, meeting at each other’s homes every Saturday. They are all something like Joe and me: the men are all pets."

I went to that dinner, finding myself the odd one out, but I was utterly charmed by the behavior of the men. It was two weeks later that Mary told me about the retirement party for a former professor of ours and suggested that we both go. By now I was following the pointers that Mary had mentioned might indicate a possible submissive man, and there, at the party, I noticed a lean and lanky individual who was standing in a corner all by himself, talking to no-one. He seemed unduly shy, retiring, but rather attractive in a quiet sort of way. In my heels I was taller than he was.

He responded immediately when I approached and began to talk to him, looking grateful that anyone should take any notice of him. When I finally got him started he conversed animatedly and I found myself enjoying his company. The party finished quite early, as these things usually do, and I invited him to come round to my house for a nightcap. I expected him to follow me in his own car, but then he confessed that he had no car, not being able to afford one yet, so I drove him.

I showed him where my bar supplies were and he prepared us both drinks, cognac if I remember aright, and then I set about seducing him. He was obviously a virgin, and had no idea at all how to go about things. I had to undress us both and take the lead in everything. But this was what I wanted. In the end I had to fake an orgasm, for he simply did not know how to hold himself in till I came too.

Two days later I phoned him at his office to ask him over for dinner. He seemed confused at first, not even knowing who I was, but in his diffident and bumbling manner he apologized to me as soon as he associated my name with my person.

I cooked a good meal for us that night, albeit a light meal. I left him to clear the table, and without any asking or suggestion on my part he washed up while I sat reading a magazine. Everything went as I had planned after that, and indeed better than I had expected. When he came back from the kitchen I addressed him just as a I would a dog, saying "Sit!" He sank down on the floor at my feet and I scratched him behind the ears and generally treated him as a pet dog. I had found my Pet.

Gradually the petting changed to serious foreplay, and we slowly stripped off and made love on the floor. This time I did not have to fake an orgasm. He was surprisingly tender and soft and was learning quickly.

A week or so after that I persuaded him to move in with me. He carried his few paltry possessions over in garbage bags and I threw them all out into the garbage where they belonged. I took him to the mall and bought an absolute minimum of new clothes for him, just enough for him to continue going to his job for a few more days, for I had plans for him and for his wardrobe.

For the next week I drove him to his office every morning and picked him up in the evening. We made love every evening, but I did not allow him to sleep in the bed with me, but instead made up a pad on the floor at the foot.

I took my Pet to one of the Saturday parties of Mary’s dining club, of which I was now elected a member and then we started going regularly. I noticed him eying two of the other pets, husbands that is, who were wearing leather dog collars, and a week or so later bought him his own collar and leash. He seemed to like being led into these parties on a leash, even on all fours, and being treated as a dog.

At home I kept him naked and soon trained him to allow me to make all decisions. I spoke to his boss and persuaded him to dismiss my Pet so that he became utterly dependent on me. I wanted a lover who would be a pet, not a worker, not someone who would try to dominate me, but someone who would do whatever I wanted. I did not want him to make himself useful around the house and to do small jobs; I wanted him to be as much like a dog as possible, a pet dog, pampered and loved, adoring me and totally faithful, like a big labrador.

 

Chapter 3: Making a home together

FOR THE next week My Lady drove me to my office each morning, and we spent the evenings sitting by the fire in the den, with me on the floor at her feet. She preferred me to be naked during these intimate evenings, though she remained fully clothed herself. Our love-making grew rapidly more inventive, though I never spent the whole night in her bed. Once we had finished I moved to a blanket on the floor at the foot of the bed. This suited me very well; I felt it sacrilegious to look at her when she was asleep and vulnerable. And in any case, I was used to sleeping on the floor. I had never been able to afford a bed, and I had kipped down this way for years. Our favorite position for intercourse was the ‘doggy’ position, with My Lady on her hands and knees on the floor and me mounting her from behind like a dog; there was never any question of anal intercourse even in this position.

I had expected to share the housework with My Lady, but she would not hear of it. "I have a woman who comes in on Tuesdays and Fridays, my Pet, so there is no need to do anything. She will do it all."

That Saturday My Lady took me to a party at the house of one of her friends and we were six couples in all. It was a pleasant party, with delicious fruit juices and soft drinks as well as liquor. I had never been a heavy drinker, but My Lady would not allow me any alcohol at all, and I noticed that only about three of the women and none of the men touched it. No-one smoked. That pleased me, for I prefer clean air. We ate a light meal and then danced, and I did not miss the liquor. The one unusual thing about the company was that two of the men wore leather collars around their necks and spent part of the evening with leashes attached. This did not seem to lessen their enjoyment in any way, but, like me, they seemed to prefer to sit on the floor at their ladies’ feet rather than on chairs.

On the way home in the Porsche My Lady asked me, "Would you like a collar and leash like Jim, my Pet? I saw you eying him."

"I thought it quite charming, My Lady, but it is for you to decide. You are the decision maker." I was finding myself becoming steadily more passive, not just in our relationship, but in other things too.

The next Friday My Lady took me to a pet shop in the mall and purchased a dog collar and leash for me, saying, "These will do until we can have a custom-made collar for you." The next day she took me to another party with the same group of friends. This time I wore my collar, and she led me in to the party on a leash. I enjoyed it, and especially liked it when she popped a nut in mouth while I was sitting on the floor at her feet; she then patted me on the head and scratched me behind my ears. At the end of the party she snapped on the leash and, calling "Heel!" led me out to the car.

The next week I received notice from my job. "Never mind, my Pet. You can just stay home and meditate. I know you like that. You don’t need to earn any money; I have plenty for us both." It actually came as a real relief to me: I no longer had the strain of responsibilities or of decision making; that was all left to my Mistress. She reminded me that I would have to wear clothes on the days that Mary, her maid, came to clean the house; all the rest of the time I would go around naked except for my collar, just as I did in the evenings.

At the next Saturday party My Lady led me in on my leash on all fours. I realized that she was treating me more and more like the pet she called me, like a dog, in fact. I enjoyed this sensation; a pet has no decisions to make, and My Lady could make them all for me. I did not even wish her to ask me if I approved of her decisions. At that party, for the first time I kept my leash on for the whole time, even when dancing.

On Sunday My Lady decided that I was not getting enough exercise, so we would go walkies. She was quite right; I felt flabby and soft, and I thought I was putting on weight. I had no sports clothes so she clad me in a spare set of her own leotard and tights and put my feet in her Reeboks; we were, after all, the same size. She drove me in her Porsche to a park about an hour away, parked and snapped my leash on. We ran for almost five miles, then she unclipped my leash, threw a ball and called, "Fetch!" This was good exercise, fetching the ball in this way. Once I even picked it up in my mouth and mimicked a dog fetching it, sitting up and ‘begging’ when I returned it to her.

That week My Lady put me on a diet. Breakfast consisted of just a small bowl of dried dog food, which I ate like a breakfast cereal with milk. I had no lunch, and only a tiny dinner in the evening. Our love-making improved as I lost weight and gained fitness. Each evening after dinner I put on my leotard and tights and we went running, with me on my leash.

 

Chapter 4: My Development as a Pet

IT WAS about this time that the stainless steel collar that My Lady had ordered for me arrived by UPS. This collar was leather-covered for comfort, but unlike a dog’s collar it locked and could only be opened with a key. My Lady attached a screw eye to the foot of the bed in her room with a chain. I now slept chained. I am sure that My Lady appreciated my delicacy in not desiring to look upon her as she slept. At first she kept me on a long chain, about eight feet in length, but she soon shortened this to no more than three feet, which totally kept me from seeing her as she slept, and I felt that it was appropriate. Ever since, I have always enjoyed being on a short chain.

The next Saturday My Lady looked over my wardrobe and decided that I had nothing fit to wear for the party. She decided that I must wear some of her clothes. I squirmed a little at first at this idea, but the decision was not mine to make. She clothed me in a corset, bra, lacy panties, a garter belt with sheer nylons with a black sequinned minidress over. I wore two inch heels, but My Lady still towered over me in her four inch heels. I wore no makeup or wig, for it was not My Lady’s intention to pass me off as a woman. Because of the boned corset it was difficult at the party to take up my normal position on the floor at her feet, and she noticed me squirming. I never wore a corset again; it had been an experiment that failed. Two of her friends complimented her on my new collar.

That week My Lady noticed that I had been raiding the refrigerator during the day. She decided that in future I must be chained up when she was not in the house, and I concurred. Neither of us wished her maid to see me like this so she decided that the basement would be appropriate. The maid never came into the basement and the door could be locked. She prepared a corner with a staple to which my chain could be attached. This was fastened with a padlock to my collar at one end and to the staple at the other. For the first few days she spread a blanket over the concrete for me, but we soon abandoned this. She left a bowl of fresh water beside me and I soon learnt to lap it like a dog.

The first day I had trouble with my elimination and had to make a mess on the floor. As soon as I was released from my chain, when My Lady returned home, I cleaned it up while My Lady went to a pet shop and purchased a litter box and a bag of kitty litter. That solved that problem. She also bought a second one for use in the bedroom at night, and I never used a toilet again, at least not at home.

I spent my days meditating and sleeping. We did a great deal of running, always with me on the leash. When My Lady slipped the leash, on the cry of "Fetch!" I would run after a ball and bring it back. By now I always brought it in my mouth, and My Lady started throwing sticks as well as the ball for me to fetch. With the order "Heel!" I would step to her side, the leash would be replaced and off we would go again. I now fed entirely on dried dog food, taking it from a bowl on the floor without using my hands, just a single meal a day. I was often hungry, but felt far fitter. Breakfast consisted of just a couple of vitamin pills taken with water that I lapped from a bowl. Occasionally, when My Lady was eating her dinner, she would drop a morsel on the floor at my feet as a special treat. I soon learned to pick it up in my mouth, never using my hands. Sometimes she would drop a bone for me from which she had cut most of the meat; these proved difficult to gnaw without using my hands, but I eventually learnt to manage.

I no longer had any men’s clothing, and I always went everywhere outside the house dressed in My Lady’s clothing. Even on Saturday morning when we did the grocery shopping together I wore her castoffs. These shopping expeditions were the only occasions when I did not wear my collar and My Lady decided that it would be less embarrassing for both of us if I looked womanish considering the way she dressed me. She therefore dressed my hair, made up my face and attached artificial nails. I now wore these also for the Saturday evening parties too and I noticed that Jim, one of the other collared men, was also similarly attired and made up. I should mention that My Lady had her nipples pierced and the gold rings through them were joined by a short chain, just long enough to fall into a catenary, which was particularly noticeable when she reached over for something in the back in the produce department of the supermarket. About this time she decided that I should have my nipples pierced too, and she equipped me with a similar chain. I also had my glans penis pierced and the tip of my penis was joined by a gold chain to the one that ran between my nipples. In this way, my penis was drawn up along my belly, and when I went on all fours it did not hang down. This chain was unclipped for intercourse, and the ring on the glans was exciting for both of us when we made love.

My chief delight at this time was the evenings when I would curl up at My Lady’s feet while she read. If she found an article that she thought would interest me she would drop it on the floor at my feet without saying anything.

One day she dropped me an article she had found on the internet that recounted the experiences of a couple on Circe’s Island or Aeaea Island as it is also called, a name that goes back to Homer’s Odyssey. Circe was a nymph who enslaved Odyseus’ men on her Island of Aeaea and turned them into swine. The circumstances of the couple in the internet posting seemed very like ours, and My Lady and I discussed it in some detail, and though part of it read like fiction it seemed somehow to ring with truth. My Lady noticed me squirming as I read the article and said, "You like what they did, don’t you, my Pet?"

"I do, indeed, My Lady, but whether I like it or not is of no consequence. It is your wishes that matter."

"Let me see what I can find out from the internet about this place."

My Lady left me and went to her computer. I read the article over again, taking much pleasure in some of the details. After about an hour she came back to her chair, but said nothing more.

It was about a month later that My Lady said, "We must go shopping and get a man’s outfit for you, my Pet."

As usual she dressed my in a minidress and nylons, with two inch heels and made up my face. Since we were going to a mall she took off my collar, as she did when we did our weekly grocery shopping. So far nothing was different. At the mall we went straight to an inexpensive men’s store, where she picked out a pair of chinos for me, a tee shirt, a dress shirt, and an inexpensive light weight jacket. She sent me off to the change room to try them on. That produced some stares, since I was dressed as a woman, as usual, but it was no concern of mine: I did what my mistress wished. At the last moment she added a pair of dress socks, then led me to a shoe store where she purchased a pair of men’s sandals.

 

Chapter 5: My Pet does as I ask

IT TOOK very little training to bring my pet to the state that I required. Gradually I treated him more and more like a pet dog, even feeding him dog food and running him on a leash. It became obvious that this fitted in with his own submissive desires, and that he wanted to be my Pet as much as I wanted it. This was clear even from the way he always addressed me: ‘My Lady.’

I was quite excited when I read the internet posting about Circe’s Island. It was posted as fiction, a short story, but both my Pet and I felt that it had the ring of truth. Just one thing was wrong about it; it called the island Johan’s Island, and I could find no mention of any Johan’s Island. It was my Pet who suggested trying to trace the classical name Aeaea, and sure enough I found it under that name, with rules and laws that agreed with the article. Then I was excited to find that my old friend Norman Anand had moved there to continue his researches. I found his telephone number through the net and spoke to him, agreeing to come to Aeaea to visit. He told me that at least half of the costs of what I wanted done would probably be paid by his research agreement with the Rajah of the Island.

I told him that would not be necessary and to keep his research grant for needy cases. Then I set about planning my itinerary, which turned out to be quite complicated.

 

Chapter 6: A Trip Overseas

TWO weeks later My Lady had me dress in these new men’s clothes, then the two of us carried four pieces of luggage to her car and she drove us to the airport where she left the Porsche in the long-term parking lot. The flight took us to Abu Dhabi where we changed to a smaller plane for the next leg of the flight. I spent much of the flight meditating, as I usually did when I had nothing else to do, and so the boredom of the long flight passed without stress. The second leg brought us to an island airport where we redeemed our luggage and took a taxi to the dockside. There I saw a modern hydrofoil ferryboat waiting with a sign for Circe’s Island, Aeaea Island. Finally, I understood. I knew what to expect from the article I had read with so much attention almost two month’s ago.

My Lady called me to heel and we started up the gang plank. At the brow she waved our boarding pass at the electronic reader and we boarded without any further formality. We walked to her cabin where she attached my collar and leash and stripped me naked, throwing my clothes into the trash. I felt more comfortable that way. As I expected, she then led me forward to the slave quarters where she chose a cage for me, inserted a few coins in the slot and locked me in. The cage was too small to lie at full length, too low to sit up, too narrow to stretch, and I had to curl into a fetal position. The floor of the cage was just what I had been led to believe, a few wisps of straw over a grating, dried excrement dotting the straw, a stench of old ordure. But none of this was of any concern to me so long as My Lady desired it. In any case, it was what had been described in the internet article. As she left the slave quarters the light dimmed and I started to meditate.

The crossing lasted several hours. I had no idea of the passage of time, but my bladder and my bowels both let me know that hours had passed and I had to let go. Unfortunately I dirtied myself. Eventually, I heard the engines die away to a whisper and My Lady came to fetch me. She attached my leash once more and called me to heel. At the bottom of the gangway we saw three passages, labeled ‘Residents’, ‘Visitors’, and ‘Owners with slaves.’ I had expected this from my reading.

Circe’s Island is the only sovereign state where chattel slavery is still legal, and the country is very firm about the status of slaves, who are not considered to be persons. The country has a magnificent health service for persons only, and all kinds of social services. The residents pay no income tax and have a high standard of living. Medical research flourishes thanks to special incentives. But you know all this from reading the original posting.

Naturally, we took the ‘Owners with Slaves’ passage. The first thing we saw was a large sign advising us of the status of slaves, including the statements:

‘Slaves will be naked at all times when in public places;’

‘Except for eunuchs, slaves will be leashed at all times in the city and residential areas; they may run free only on beaches and similar non-residential zones;’

These regulations were new since the time of the article I had read. The others were the same, such as:

‘Slaves are not persons and may never abrogate the privileges of persons.’

‘Slaves may only speak in reply to a person.’

A buzzer went off and we found ourselves standing in front of an immigration official who asked me if I wished to renounce my personhood and be registered as a slave. I gave my eager assent. Back home I was already My Lady’s devoted slave, but I knew that this had no legal sanction and that I was free to renounce it at any time. I was anxious to be her slave in law as well as in practice. The official took me through all the regulations to ensure that I understood them, then had me sign my renunciation of personhood in triplicate, giving one to My Lady, who was now officially my owner. He pressed an instrument against my shoulder, pressed a trigger and implanted the chip that encoded my status and then warned My Lady, "You should keep this registration up to date, especially if you sell your slave." He then asked her, "Do you wish your slave to be castrated?"

I had not considered this possibility, but if My Lady wished it then so be it. Nevertheless, I felt quite grateful when she refused his offer. We walked to the hotel - there are no internal combustion engines on Circe’s Island and electrical vehicles are only used for deliveries. The hotel consisted of separate cottages, each with a kennel near the front door. My Lady tied me up outside the office while she registered, then led me on all fours to her cottage. As she beckoned me to follow her I stopped on the threshold, whined a little and pawed the air. Slaves are not allowed to speak except in direct answer to a question: that was one of the regulations that had been drilled into me at Immigration. She paused and looked at me, "I suppose you are right," she said, "You should not come into the cottage until we have washed you down. You really do stink."

By now an electric truck had delivered her luggage and she put it down inside the door and led me to the kennel. Fresh straw on the floor smelled better than what I had met on the hydrofoil. The chain attached to the kennel was about eight feet long, but she shortened it, as I always preferred, and attached my collar about three feet from the staple. About an hour later my Owner stepped out in a brief sun-dress. "Now let’s get you cleaned up my Pet." She led me over to a garden hose and hosed me down vigorously. I shook myself to get rid of excess water and then looked at her expectantly. "Oh, you’re thirsty, my poor Pet." She took a bowl and filled it from the hose and I eagerly lapped up the water.

 

Chapter 7: Slavery

I WAS quite surprised at the eagerness with which my Pet accepted the status of slave. I knew, of course, that he wished to leave all decisions and responsibilities to me, but we had not discussed this point, but evidently he already considered himself my willing slave. I saw the unease in his eyes when the question of castration came up and surmised that he would accept even that without protest, but it was not what I wanted. I wanted a pet that could satisfy all my sexual needs, not a eunuch.

 

Chapter 8: Transformation

COME along, my Pet, we have an interview with Dr. Anand about your transformation." I came to heel and we walked to his office. As it was a considerable distance I walked on my hind legs rather than on all fours. In those days I had trouble walking very far on all fours.

Dr. Anand is one of the world’s leading genetic researchers, and he had recently immigrated to the island to obtain the freedom to carry out his researches. What he was able to do to people was unacceptable in other countries, but here he received a subsidy from the supreme ruler, who also paid for all the more interesting transformations he wrought on visitors to the island kingdom. The ruler (actually a rajah rather than a king) had decided that visitors coming for transformations could enhance the tourist revenue of his kingdom.

Dr. Anand was expecting us: I expect my Mistress had made arrangements by e-mail some time ago. She explained what she wanted. I had no say, of course, but what she desired agreed very well with my own secret wishes to be the perfect pet. She and the doctor discussed procedures in some detail and he produced several schematics of what he might be able to do. I lost interest and sat on the floor at my Owner’s side. I brightened up when I heard her say that she was thinking of one small transformation herself, and wondered what she had in mind.

A nurse led my Mistress to a hospital room while another led me to the slave quarters, which were like those on the hydrofoil, but clean. That evening I received several injections and the following morning we were both prepped for surgery, or so I thought. In actual fact we were not subjected to surgery at all, but injected with a series of DNA and RNA extracts which would bring about the changes that My Lady desired. The first stage of these changes might be very painful, hence the sedatives. I know that my Owner recovered in two days and returned to the hotel. My transformation took much longer, but My Lady was by my bed every day. I could see no difference in her, so whatever transformation she had undergone was not visible to the casual inspection.

During this period I was heavily sedated, and I could not talk. But then as a slave I was not allowed to talk. After a couple of days I could no longer lie on my back, but had to stay on my side. Four days into the transformation into a pet I was prepped once more, this time for surgery. The doctor implanted an electronic device into my skull, and it is this that permits me to relay my recollections to the computer now.

Finally, after two weeks I was permitted out of my cage, but I found I could not stand on my hind legs at all, but stood happily on all fours. My long tongue fell out of my mouth to one side, and it was this in part which prevented me from talking. The nurse attached a leash to my collar, a new collar, not my old one, and led me to a mirror. There I saw a most wonderful sight, one which gave me great delight: I was transformed into the likeness of a magnificent Irish wolfhound, with long rangy legs, a long muzzle (with that lolling tongue), a ridge of fur along my back, a narrow chest and a slender belly; a glorious golden pelt, more like a golden retriever than a wolfhound, covered my body, but the conformation was certainly that of the wolfhound. My hands and feet had been converted into dog’s paws, complete with claws, and my teeth were those of a dog too. My lower legs were much longer and my knees lay alongside my belly, as is proper for a dog, and only my toes touched the ground. My arms had become fore-legs and the proportions changed to match my hind legs; I could no longer turn them to the side.

I turned round and sniffed my genitals. My penis was there in its fur sheath, as is proper for a dog; I licked the head, hiding shyly within its sheath, and then licked my balls, hanging down freely behind me. I nosed along my belly and noticed that I now had four pairs of nipples, not the single pair I had had formerly. I licked my front paws, then sat and scratched behind my ears with my right hind leg. I wondered if I could still make love to My Lady, who was looking on indulgently all the while.

She signed the discharge papers and called me to heel, and we headed back towards the hotel. As we walked she showed me a small electronic gadget, like a remote control for a television set, and told me that this controlled the electronic implant I had received.

"I can reward you, my Pet, like this." I received a wonderful feeling of well-being.

"Or I can punish you." I felt a jolt of pain from I knew not where.

"That was very mild, but I can stimulate the pain centers of the brain with the greatest of ease. Oh, another thing; if you pull too hard against that new collar it will punish you without any intervention on my part."

I soon found out that was true when I stumbled and jerked on my leash.

"Now with this button on the control I can listen in to your sub-vocal thoughts." That’s funny, I thought, and immediately heard a mechanical voice repeating what I had just thought. "This model is better than the earlier one, my Pet. It does not relay all your thoughts, only those that are formed into words and sub-vocalized, so we can hold a conversation if we choose."

So she cannot listen in to my meditation; I heard the machine repeat this too.

"It has a range of about four hundred meters, so you will have to guard your thoughts; you won’t always know if I am listening in."

I found the kennel much more comfortable than before. I could lie on my belly with my legs under me and my head either held up or with my muzzle on my forelegs. I could curl up far better than before. I could lie on my side. The attitude I could not easily assume was lying on my back. Oh, I could lie on my back with my legs spread in the air, like a dog begging to have its belly rubbed, but I could not stay long like that. I became a little overeager when a young bitch walked past, led by her master, and tugged at my collar. It immediately corrected me.

I slept the night there in the kennel: I needed the time to recover from my period in the clinic, but the next day my Mistress led me to the beach. We had a great time playing in the waves fetching sticks that she threw far out to sea for me; I soon mastered the technique of the dog paddle. Then we swam together out to the off-shore reef where I picked things up for her to inspect. I accompanied her to a restaurant that evening. She looked gorgeous in a formal evening dress, but I was disappointed to see the sign "No Pets". She left me chained up outside in the slave area, where several of the human slaves tried to pet me, but I would not accept overtures from those I did not consider my superiors. Three other dogs were within sniffing range, and since they were on long chains, while I was on my ususal short one, they came over and walked around me stiff-legged. I was considerably bigger than any of them so no fight ensued.

Back at the hotel my Owner hosed me down and took me into her cottage for the first time. It was a pleasantly rustic place, with comfortable-looking furniture. Not that this affected me for I was never allowed on furniture anyway; I never had been, even before my transformation. In the bedroom My Lady stripped off her clothes and I finally saw what transformation she had received; the doctor had added a penis, and a scrotum which contained two balls. The glans was pierced and the tip chained to the one which ran between her nipples, just like I used to wear, except that her breasts were fully formed female breasts, not like my tiny male nipples. I was worried that she might have lost her female genitals, but my fears were soon put to rest as she spread her labia with her fingers.

"Didn’t you notice, my Pet, that you have a vagina too, as well as a prick? I decided that we should both discover what the other sex is like."

What a wonderful idea. She knelt down and I mounted her in the way she always preferred. Then I found that I could not disengage. Dr. Anand had given me the penis of a dog and I found myself locked into my Mistress for an hour after I had inseminated her, just like any dog with a bitch. My Owner had orgasm after orgasm during all this time, but finally, I came again, and we disengaged.

"Now it’s my turn, my Pet." She unclipped the chain that restrained her penis and mounted me from behind. I felt her cock, with its gold ring, enter my new vagina and immediately orgasmed. As she slid in and out I came again and again. I began to howl and bay at the moon. All too soon it was over and my Mistress collapsed across my back. Tiresias was right: the pleasure a woman derives from intercourse is ten times that of a man, at least if my experience is anything to go by.

We spent another week on Circe’s island as I learned to use my new body, swimming, running on the beach, making love in new and unexpected ways. I slept in the kennel every night, of course, not in the cottage. I was now totally dependent on my Owner, more so than before. I could no longer turn on a tap to obtain a drink of water; I could not ask for anything (unless she chose to turn on the vocal unit of the remote); I no longer had fingers. But that was what we both wanted. I was now her complete slave, and that final expression of conspicuous consumption, a useless pet, kept not for use, but only for decoration and enjoyment. She certainly enjoyed me. I was able to look around at the other people and non-people on the island, the naked slaves, collared and leashed except on the beach, the eunuchs, waddling around on self-important messages for their owners, the pets, some of them natural dogs, cats, pigs or ponies, others transformed slaves like me. One was a large cat-like creature, very graceful, some kind of cougar I supposed, and definitely female. I was tempted to approach her, but I was restrained both by my collar and also by the sight of her claws. I saw no other pets that possessed two sets of genitalia like mine, and I felt grateful to my owner for thinking of that improvement.

I learnt that my transformation had not shortened my life expectancy to that of a dog, a mere dozen years, but that I could expect a long healthy life at the side of my Mistress, provided I did not put on weight. There was little risk of that for she kept me on a strict diet of dried dog food, a single meal a day in carefully measured amounts. I was often hungry before I was fed. She occasionally gave me treats, dropping them to the floor in front of me. I found bones from lamb chops and rib steaks particularly good, though I took care not to crack them in my teeth.

 

Chapter 9: Dr. Anand’s work

I LOVED having a penis as well as a vagina. I had thought of this long before I left home to travel to Aeaea. It meant of course that my Pet would need to have both vagina and penis too, so that we could take each other interchangeably. I do not know why no-one thought of this before.

The whole arrangement turned out to be everything that I ever expected. I modeled my new appendage on my Pet’s old one, complete with the gold ring piercing the glans that we had both enjoyed so much in the last few months, chaining it to the one that already ran between my breasts.

I was now glad of all the time that we had spent training him to behave as a dog. Now that he really was a dog, though much larger and more agile than any dog I had ever seen, this training paid off. The next stage in this training wold be to develop a rapport between the two of us that would enable us to communicate without words, just as dogs do with their mistresses. And to learn to enjoy each other’s new sexual apparatus to the full. I hoped he would enjoy the new home that would await him.

 

Chapter 10: Home again

THREE weeks to the day from our arrival on the island we boarded the hydrofoil for the return trip. Once more into the slave quarters for me, dirty as ever, but now I found them more comfortable since I could curl up like any other dog. At the hydrofoil terminal a truck from the Mahood Transportation and Forwarding Company met us with the largest size of travel cage for an animal. This was to be my cage for the next 36 hours. It was barely big enough, but no larger cage was available for traveling and of course I could not travel in the cabin as I had on the way here. Not only was I cramped, but dogs in other travel cages were noisy and intruded on my meditation. We were not fed for the whole trip, though we were offered water in Abu Dhabi, and we were all covered in excrement long before we arrived home.

I was rather dreading what would happen at Customs and Immigration considering the description given in the original posting we had read, but evidently several more transformed non-persons had passed through in the last couple of years and the officials knew what to do.

Once home I discovered that while we were away workmen had built me a new kennel in the garden.

"Now that you have a thick coat you will be more comfortable in the kennel during the day, my Pet, at least during the summer. You can sleep at the foot of my bed at night, but I don’t think you should be in the house during the day."

I quite agreed, not that it was any concern of mine. My Lady hosed the filth from my coat that I had acquired in that traveling cage and chained me in my kennel while she carried up her luggage and unpacked. I felt so proud of my kennel and preened and strutted in front of it, remembering not to strain against my collar. After she had unpacked, showered and changed she came down to the kennel and unsnapped my chain. Calling me to heel she led me into the house and started to prepare dinner. I curled up at one side and waited. She put her dinner in the oven then filled my water bowl and finally my food bowl with my usual dried dog food, then strode away into the den where she sat down to read. I rarely read now; it is too difficult to turn the pages. I wolfed down my food and followed her in. She set a tray for herself and brought in her dinner, and I curled up at her feet and rested my head in her lap, something I had not been able to do before in any comfort. She stroked me absently with her left hand while she forked food in with her right. No treats tonight: it wasn’t that sort of meal.

My Lady pushed her tray aside and said, "The remote is on my bed, my Pet. Why don’t you fetch it for me? I want to talk with you."

It was the first time since we left the island. I ran up the stairs, or rather bounded up them, pushed open the bedroom door with my nose and picked up the remote in my mouth, then rushed down the stairs again and dropped it in my Owner’s lap. She activated the vocal synthesizer and asked me what I thought about it all.

"I am absolutely delighted by the transformation," I said, "It is all I ever dreamed. I love being wholly yours, My Lady, and knowing that you are my legal owner, yours to treat as you wish, even to sell me if you choose or to have me castrated. I should hate either of those things, but it delights me to know that you can if you wish."

"I shall never sell you, part with you or have you neutered, my Pet. I love you too much." She scratched me behind my ears and patted my head. "And what do you think about your sexual status, my Pet?"

"That was a stroke of genius on your part, my Mistress."

"Yes, I think so too." She preened herself. "Our double transformation is enough to ensure that we shall remain together. Nothing could be as good as sex with you my Pet. That time we spend locked together when you take the male role is incredible. Now I would like you to write down your impressions of our relationship if we can do it. I believe that it is possible to use some kind of voice recognition system to connect with this remote. I know you can’t speak or write, or even use a computer keyboard, but we will arrange an electronic linkage."

"I hope you have a spare remote, My Lady. If that one breaks down then we can no longer converse."

It has taken me two months to record this saga. I found that My Lady does not have a spare remote, so that if this one breaks down we shall have to return to Circe’s island for another. That in itself is no hardship, and I should rather enjoy it if only we could come up with a better traveling cage. My Mistress has suggested several improvements to our bodies and we should go there in any case to have them done. We rarely use the remote to communicate, merely for this task of writing about my adventures. Instead we rely on that wordless communication that grows between owners and well-loved pets, that look about the eyes, that twist of the head, that gentle caress. I never imagined that life could be so good. It is so much better to be a pet than to be a mere lover. But I do wonder what the elders of the church would say if they found My Lady in copula with her pet dog.

 

Chapter 11: More changes

NORMAN Anand had done a wonderful job on both of us, and we had much to thank him for, but as time wore on I felt that one or two other changes might be in order. In any case I longed to return for a period to that wonderful island of Aeaea, with its marvelous climate and delightful, if somewhat bizarre, society. But before that happened I needed to concentrate on my business which I had rather let slip latterly while concentrating on other more delightful matters.

Hermaphroditism was a delight, but I rather thought my Pet had the better of it. And then I started wondering about having kids, but I certainly did not want to go through all the misery of pregnancy. I wondered how far the hermaphroditism extended. Did it include internal organs as well as what we saw on the surface? I decided to find out.

 

Chapter 12: Pregnant

I THOUGHT I had finished this narrative of my adventures six months ago, but My Lady has insisted that I report to you what has happened since I was last linked to the computer.

We went to several of our regular parties, and, when they saw how happy we were, Jim and his wife Audrie decided to follow our lead and go to Circe’s island. Jim came back as a black cat, but they had not experimented with hermaphroditism as we had. I had always thought that he was impotent and that Audrie did not really like sexual intercourse, and I was proved right: Jim was not a tomcat, but had been neutered. Audrie had every right to do this, of course, for he was her slave and her pet. I found out that she had had him castrated on first entry into Circe’s island, when the immigration official asked her if she wanted it done. Dr. Anand could have reversed it during the rest of his genetic engineering, but Audrie did not want that.

It was about three months after we returned that I began to feel nauseated and then threw up one morning. My Lady became concerned and took me to see a veterinarian. The cause then immediately became obvious: I was pregnant. As long as I had known her My Lady had been ‘on the pill,’ so that we had never considered pregnancy for her. After our transformation she continued taking her contraceptives, but never thought about the necessity for me. And of course her contraceptive had no effect on her newly acquired testes, which were fully functional. She had impregnated me. We had never considered the possibility. I did not menstruate - no dog-bitch ever does - but there was no sign of my coming into heat as bitches do. In fact, we later discovered that Dr. Anand had engineered me to be in heat all the time, as he felt that this would be more interesting for my Owner. Besides, how could a human male cross-breed with a dog bitch? They were different species, and species as different as human and dog can’t reproduce.

We had dozens of questions. How could it have happened? Would I have a single baby or a litter, like a bitch? Would the pregnancy last nine months or sixty days? Would the baby be human, a puppy or an intermediate? What kind of care would I need? Did My Lady have to change my diet? What effect would pregnancy have on my behavior?

There was no help for it: we had to return to Aeaea and consult Dr. Anand. My Lady would also take the opportunity to have a slight alteration made. The mechanism by which we locked together when I took the male role, the ‘tie’ that always occurs when dogs mate, had so delighted her that she felt that she would like her penis altered so that she too could lock onto me when she took the male role. She also felt that a dog’s penis sheathe, like mine, and indeed a dog’s penis, would be preferable to her present member, and would be less liable to spoil the hang of her skirt when it engorged. She would ask Dr. Anand for a dog’s member for herself. While she was debating this aloud for my benefit I whined and pawed at the remote, which was lying on her desk.

"Yes, that’s right, my Pet, we must get a spare one. How clever of you to remember," She bent down and scratched me behind the ears.

In truth I felt that she was quite right to want this change. I much prefer having sexual intercourse with a dog’s penis than with a human one.

The trip to Circe’s island this time was less pleasant for me, because I had to travel in a dog cage. Never ever submit your pets to that discomfort and indignity if you can possibly avoid it. Inevitably I was soiled and stinking even before we boarded the hydrofoil, and there was nowhere for My Lady to clean me before we arrived at the hotel. Once again I was locked in the stinking slave quarters for the sea crossing. That at least was more comfortable than the first time, but just as filthy.

We passed straight through Customs and Immigration without being stopped by an official this time: the electronic scanner had entered the data from my implanted slave chip. Once my Owner had hosed me down and cleaned off the accumulated ordure of the trip she actually shampooed me, something that rarely happened, and I bedded down for the night in the kennel outside the cottage. It was pleasant to stretch out in a spacious kennel in this tropical climate, and I slept well.

The next morning my Mistress snapped on my leash, called me to heel, and we walked to Dr. Anand’s clinic. There we received the answers to our questions. Dr. Anand told us that although the genes in the somatic cells - the ordinary body cells - had been engineered, those in the germ cells had not. Our egg cells and sperm cells were fully human, and carried all the genes they had before the transformation. That was why I had been able to conceive. He examined me, a full gynaecological examination. I could not lie in the stirrups, of course, because of the conformation of my body, but in all other respects it was like the examination of any other pregnant woman. My uterus was that of a bitch, not that of a woman, a two-horned affair with fetuses in both horns, three in one and four in the other. In other words I was due to give birth to a litter. He assured us, however, that the babies would be normal human babies, with normal human genes, our heritage.

He was unsure about the period of gestation. My dog’s body would try, he thought, to keep to the 60 days of a bitch’s pregnancy, but the main timing device in pregnancy is the placenta, not the mother and not the fetus. Accordingly, the final outcome would be more like nine months, though perhaps shortened a little by my current body. He estimated that I was already three months’ pregnant, which was already longer than any bitch’s pregnancy.

As to behavioral modifications, he reminded My Lady that a pregnant bitch tended to be . . . well . . . bitchy. Since I was carrying a largish litter, then I should need extra care, extra vitamins, extra calcium. One meal a day of dried dog food was no longer sufficient, and I should have three meals, with lots of milk.

 

Chapter 13: More modifications

ONCE our questions were answered - many more than these - My Lady made her arrangements for her stay in the clinic for her further modifications. I was lodged in the slave quarters, and Dr. Anand instructed his staff to take especial care of me, giving the reason. I could see one of his female slaves look curiously at my obvious male endowments.

My Mistress’s transformation took four days this time, and then we returned to the hotel for a week for her to recover completely before we returned home. When she first came to the slave quarters at the clinic and let me out of my cage I pranced all round her and jumped up, only remembering at the last moment that she would be sore, and pulling back just in time. I was behaving like a pet dog that has been separated from its owner for too long, as indeed I actually was.

That night we made love with me taking the male role and My Lady the female: she did not wish to try out her new equipment yet, though to my eye it looked far better than the somewhat cumbersome human male apparatus she had sported before. She no longer needed the gold chain to fasten her glans to her breasts, and that had been removed, together with the gold ring that had formerly pierced the head of her penis. I rather regretted the loss of that ring for it had felt good inside me. My developing pregnancy did not yet interfere with our sex life.

The last evening of our stay we finally made love with me in the female role and My Lady in the male. We locked together beautifully, for over an hour (or so My Lady told me - I can no longer tell the time) and I had orgasm after orgasm. We both agreed that this was far better than making love with a human penis.

We traveled home the next day, with the usual extreme discomfort for me in the hold of the plane.

It is now two months since our second trip to Circe’s island and I am five months pregnant. It is beginning to show, but then I am carrying seven fetuses. I find it difficult to mount My Lady now, and we usually make love with her in the male position, mounting me from behind. I can no longer chase after balls and sticks, and on our walks I usually walk sedately at heel. My Lady insists that I need the exercise of walking,, but I would rather stay home, curled up at her feet. But even curling up is becoming quite difficult. My back aches all the time from the weight of the litter I am carrying, and my teats are tender and swollen, all four pairs of them.

 

Chapter 14: A Dog’s Delight

JUST imagine! A litter of seven babies! At least Norman assures me that they will be babies, not puppies. That dog’s penis of mine is a magnificent improvement. Not only is the ‘tie’ when we are locked together a continuing delight for both of us, but the whole anatomical arrangement is more convenient under a skirt.

 

Chapter 15: The Litter

NOW that I have a little time to spare, having weaned my pups - sorry, I mean my babies - My Lady has asked me to record the events of the last 12 months. I carried my babies to full term; evidently my canine body did not shorten the pregnancy as Dr. Anand had thought. Then came the problem as to where I should whelp. A hospital seemed out of the question, and an obstetrician would have nothing to do with me. My Lady finally took me to a veterinarian who was intrigued by the whole proposition. He agreed to supervise while I dropped my litter, but it had to be done at home, not in his office, for he had no suitable facilities. My Owner eventually found another obstetrician, who would offer to guide her and help a little at home, but he too could do nothing about admitting me to hospital for my confinement. She had a carpenter construct a whelping box for me in the basement, and with the obstetrician’s and veterinarian’s advice installed all that either of them could think of to make for a healthy birth of my seven babies.

Meanwhile, the master bedroom was converted to a nursery and My Lady moved to the second bedroom for herself - and for me when we made love as we continued to do right up to the night before the births. You should have seen us, me a fat bitch with my enormous belly dragging on the ground, and My Lady mounting me from behind. The nursery had seven cribs and all the facilities where the nursemaids could care for my babies, but also a padded area where I could lie and suckle the little darlings.

I had great trouble whelping: my bitch’s pelvis was too narrow for the heads of my human babies and I had to have a Caesarian section. As he removed each baby the veterinarian handed it to one of the nursemaids who wrapped it in a blanket and took it up to the nursery for washing and bedding down. I was quite unable to climb the stairs for 48 hours after the births and the nursemaids had to bring the babies down every two or three hours for me to feed them. My Lady had decided that they should be breast fed, and I am only too glad that she made this decision. I have never experienced anything quite like the pleasure of suckling seven greedy babies all at once. I pity those human mothers who can only cope with one at a time.

I weaned my darlings yesterday, and I cannot bear to think that I shall never have that pleasure again. I made love to My Lady in the male mode last night for the first time since I whelped. It was as wonderful as ever, but suckling a litter of pupp. . . babies is a pleasure of quite a different kind. I hope My Lady makes the decision not to put me on the pill. But that will be her decision, not mine.

 

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