Now, the only thing that matters is the fact that my owner is petting me, stroking me, running his hands up and down the length of my body. I close my eyes, and I revel in his attentions.
For the first time in a very, very long time, I feel absolutely content.
At some point, I almost fall asleep.
It's strange, hovering between awake and asleep. Actually, I enjoy it. My eyes are closed, and there is the white noise of news in the background. Or maybe it's a documentary. Either way, I don't really pay attention.
I'm thinking about some of my friends. Amber, Tiffany, Lisa, and Jacqueline come to mind. Last week, we were hanging out, and I was winning. That's right. It's always a game with them. It felt like a game with all of my friends. We go out to a bar or a club, and we have to see who can take control. Who can be the hottest? Who can be the most aggressive?
Who gets to win?
It's tiring.
We whisper behind each other's backs. We spread those vicious little rumors, and we pretend that were friends. But are we?
No, probably not.
At the same time, I try a search for someone who would really miss me. Different guys come to mind. I think about those boys from the clubs. They love to come up to me, to beg me for a dance, but do they actually care about me? Do they actually want to get to know me?
Probably not.
I curl up on Michael's lap. He's warm and solid. He feels so good, especially as his fingertips move along my shoulders, up toward the nape of my neck. Even when he grazes his fingertips over my breasts, I don't think to complain. This feels natural.
In fact, I almost forget what it feels like to wear clothing. Here, I'm just a puppy. I don't have to worry about looking good or impressing anyone. I'm just the dog.
Only one thing is expected of me.
Obedience.
Those thoughts should upset me.
Truthfully, I'm more freaked out by the idea that they don't. What's wrong with me? What's happening to me?
As I drift in between that spot between asleep and awake, I try to think of one person who would miss me. What about Jacob? I know that he's in love with me. I've always enjoyed manipulating him.
One of my friends will go after him.
My lips tense ever so slightly at the notion, yet I can't ignore the truth. Jacob will probably pine after me for a few days, but then one of my friends will offer to make him feel better. For a little while, he'll be popular with all of my former friends. They will think of him as a trophy. I'm gone, so who can replace me? Who can take him away?
I delve deeper, thinking about the one person who might really miss me. Janet.
Wait, will she miss me? As sisters, we've never been close. In fact, ever since I took control of the family fortune, we've been at odds. She thinks that we need to make the world a better place, that we need to work really hard.
Me?
I've always wanted to party. I don't want any responsibilities. I never have, and I probably never will.
But then, I think about how many arguments we've gotten into. I've always enjoyed being in control of the family finances. She's always wanted more autonomy, which I never gave her.
Will she be glad that I'm gone? Will she be secretly relieved?
No, I can't believe that.
Because I don't have any other choices, I must cling to the idea that Janet is out there looking for me. She probably has dozens of private investigators searching the city even as I'm curled up, naked on this man's lap.
"Princess, it's time for you to earn your keep."
Michael puts his hands on my shoulders, and he wakes me, squeezing me. My eyes flutter open, and I look up at him. For the first time, I don't see a man who is trying to train me. Instead, I see the man who already has trained me. It's easy to relax around him. Away from my friends and everyone else, I know that things are simple here.
"Get down on your hands and knees."
Without entirely waking up, I obey.
He unzips his pants, and he takes out his cock.
He’s stiff.
More importantly, I know exactly what he wants from me. "You know, puppies like licking. Show me that you like licking. Show me that you like sucking, little doggie."
Maybe it's because I'm so relaxed, but I just do it. I don't argue, and I don't even hesitate. At one moment, I’m down on my hands and knees. In the next, I lean forward, and I part my lips, wrapping them around his circumference. I move my head down, taking him a little bit at a time. He is patient with me.
"Good girl," he says, and he rewards me for my obedience. He starts stroking my little puppy ears, and I want to melt right there, but I know that I have a job to do. I'm going to be a good girl for this man. I'm going to obey him.
"It looks like that implant is working perfectly," he whispers down to me.
What does that mean? Does the implant affect my mind?
I want to get upset, but I can't.
Instead, I concentrate on servicing this man. Working my head down and up, over and over, I slide my wet lips along his shaft. At the same time, I flick my tongue, from the base of his cock all the way up to his tip.
In exchange, he continues to pet me. He relaxes me, making me enjoy this. I'm supposed to hate giving blow jobs. It’s supposed to be demeaning and degrading, yet some part of me wants to actually start wiggling my hips, like I'm a happy little puppy.
Michael seems to guess my thoughts. "Wag for me. Show me that you're a happy Princess."
There's that name again, but it doesn't make me upset either. Working my head in and out, over and over again, I begin to wag my hips from side to side. I shake my bottom for him. This should be the most embarrassing, humiliating thing I've ever done, but I don't seem to mind. Then he puts his hand on the back of my head, and he takes control, forcing me down and up.
"Get ready to swallow," he says, and I know I should fight. Seriously, why am I accepting this? Why am I allowing him to treat me this way, like a stupid dog, a puppy slut?
He keeps his hands on the sides of my head, guiding me, setting the rhythm and pace of my movements. Only a few seconds ago, I could pretend I had some kind of control. Now those last vestiges have frayed away, leaving me as little more than his sex toy.
Another second passes, and he climaxes. His cock begins to pulsate as he blows his load up against the back of my throat. The seconds tick by, and I can feel more and more of his hot seed against the back of my throat.
I gulp it down, one swallow at a time.
Of course, I hate myself for doing this. I'm supposed to be an heiress, a young woman of dignity and means. And yet, here I am, sucking his cock.
When he's done with me, he puts his palm on my forehead, and he shoves me back.
"Lick your lips," he commands.
I obey, realizing that a little bit of his semen started to dribble down my lips. Once I'm cleaned, he smiles at me. "I think it's time for me to give you a bath. Follow me." He gets up, and he saunters back through his condo. He takes me into a large bathroom, he turns on the water, and I wait there on the floor, staring down, studying the tile work without even meaning to.
When he’s satisfied, he motions for me to get into the water. Just before I can follow his command, he takes the gloves off of my hands. I flex my fingers. They're stiff, locked in the position like they are puppy paws.
I’m an obedient dog, so I climb into the water. I'm about to sit down, the same way a human would. His hand flies down, striking my backside. "No. Stay on your hands and knees."
I grimace, but I don't disobey. I'm still up on all fours.
"Good doggie."
Narrowing my eyes, I stare straight ahead. "At some point, I'm going to show you off to people. They're going to see exactly what my training regimen can do. You know why I'm going to be showing you off?"
"Because you're proud of me?" I ask, squeaking the question.
"Yes, I am very proud of you. But that's not all. My training methods w
ill become popular all around the world. You see, you’re only the first little puppy now. There are lots and lots of men out there who have to deal with obnoxious women. These are women who believe that they should have everything handled for them. They think they should get everything handed to them." He shakes his head, obviously disappointed with the fairer sex. "But I'm going to be able to show you to them, and these powerful men will understand that there is another option."
"Only if this works," I tell him. There is a flicker of defiance in my voice when I lift my chin and look over at him. "You have to prove that your system actually works. You have to prove that you can break me."
"Isn't that what's happening right now?" He smirks, clearly confident. He thinks he's already won. He thinks I'm not going to be able to resist.
For once, I hold my tongue.
He picks up the bottle of liquid soap and pours some of it into his hands. He rubs his palms together, and then he starts touching me. He works my back, my buttocks, my thighs, and my legs.
Michael is both thorough and diligent. He makes sure he gets every inch of my skin. He even forces my head down into the water so that he can wash my face. He doesn't warn me. No, he simply shoves me down. I'm only able to catch my breath at the last moment.
"Good little doggie," he says. "You know, I probably want to take you up to swim at some point. You can work on your doggie paddle. I think you would be adorable."
"Never," I growl back at him. It sounds good. I embrace that aggression, hoping that I will be able to fight him and his influence.
"How about now? Do you still think that's never going to happen?" Michael asks, working his soapy fingers between my legs. "You know, I never did say thank you for that blow job. You are such a good little cock sucker. I bet you would like a treat."
Damn him.
As much as I want to deny the truth, my body responds. It reacts perfectly to his touch. Soon, my breathing turns heavy and ragged. My nipples stiffen, and my skin is hot to the touch. Even with the water running along my body, it feels like I'm sweating. My core turns to molten desire.
And all he's done so far is stroked me.
He hasn't actually penetrated me yet.
"What should I do with you right now? Should I give you an orgasm?"
This is a test. He wants to see if I'm going to play along, if I will yield to him.
Again and again, I tell myself that I won't, but his warm, tantalizing caresses keep me on the edge. It's so hard to resist this temptation.
"Bark for me."
“Arf! Arf!”
Just like that, I've unlocked my pleasure. He pushes his fingers into my pussy, and he begins to massage my clitoris. "You know, if I ever get another dog, I might have her do the same thing to you. Of course, she would be using her tongue. What would you think of that, Princess?"
"No," I whimper, shaking my head. Even as he continues to touch me, he puts his hand on my ass, and I flinch, wondering if he's going to slap me.
"Bark for me again."
"No!" I reply, calling out that single word of negation.
He sighs.
Worse, he pulls his hand back, he starts spanking me. Even so, he doesn't actually pull his other hand back. No, if anything, he speeds up the rubbing. He works his finger over my clitoris again and again, making me moan.
I'm being spanked, and I'm coming! The orgasm explodes through me, mixing with the pain of punishment.
"This is where you belong, down on your knees, barking like a dog. You're my bitch now. That's all you're going to be," he tells me.
Pleasure continues to pound through my system, making it impossible for me to answer. He can say whatever he wants, and there's no way for me to interrupt. I gasp, I mew, and I really do sound more like an animal than a woman.
When I'm done, he pulls me out of the tub, and he starts to dry me off.
I hang my head down low, thinking about how he has taken away everything that makes me a powerful woman. Now, I'm just a little puppy girl.
"Do you want to get out of here?" Michael asks me ask I ride the elevator with him.
Head bowed once again, I don't know how to answer him. Obviously, I want to get out of here. Obviously, I want to escape, but it can't be that easy. He is teasing me. Somehow, he wants to trick me.
"What I have to do?"
"I'm going to take you to the ground floor. And we are going to play a little game. If you succeed, you'll be able to walk out of here."
"What game?" I asked again.
"You'll have to be patient," he says, patting me on the back of my head.
Seconds later, the doors open again, and we are down on the ground floor, just like he said. I look around, terrified that someone will see me like this.
He tugs on my leash, guiding me down another hallway. Then, we go outside. The air is cool and crisp and clear. It feels really good. This is a very large building, but there is a fenced off section. There might be pedestrians on the other side of the fence, but they won't be able to see me, not unless they put their eyes right up to the gaps in the slats.
For now, I'm on my own.
Looking out, I see a big field of grass. At some point, it might be developed into a parking lot or another building.
"What you want me to do?"
"Kneel. Lift your hands."
I obey, and he put the gloves back on me. As he clasps each mitt over the ends of my arms, I know that I'm losing a little bit more freedom. These tools help him subjugate me.
"This is a very simple game. Do you see that gate over there?"
Squinting, I peer across the field, and I do. I spot it right there.
"Right now, you can't get through that gate. Even if you managed to get off of your leash, there is an invisible fence all around the property. If you crossed that threshold, you would immediately pass out."
I swallow, registering those words. Part of me wants to believe that he's lying, except I can hear the sincerity in his voice. He isn't lying to me.
"But here's the thing. There is a special key to your implants. It's buried somewhere in this field. If you can find it, then you can use it to turn off the implant, and then you'll be able to just walk right out of here. I won't even stop you."
"Why would I believe you?"
"Because, Princess, I want to see what you do. I want to see how you react. Remember, I’m the psychologist, and you're my experiment."
I hate being put in those terms, but maybe this is my opportunity.
"What, what do I have to do?"
"What do puppies love to do when they're left alone in the backyard?"
I stare back up at him, uncertain. I don't know what he really expected hear me say. After a few more seconds, I figured out. "You want me to start digging, don't you?"
"That's exactly right," he tells me. He pats me on the head again, and then he points back to the field. "Go, girl. I'm going to give you until sundown. That's how much time you have left."
My nostrils flare, and I look up at the sky. It's nearly afternoon already. I don't have that much time, especially to cover all of this ground.
If I really want to win, then I should tell him that I’m never, ever going to play his game. It won't matter what he says or how he punishes me.
"What's it going to be?"
Without answering, I start crawling forward. At the same time, I scan the ground, looking for any disturbed patches of grass or dirt. Where has someone dig recently? Where has someone filled in a hole?
This field is enormous.
After a couple of minutes, I'm tempted to give up.
Only then do I realize that Michael has released me from my leash. At some point, he must've taken it off of me. Maybe he really does mean it. If I can dig up this key, then I will be able to get out of here.
Then I spot it, a patch of earth that looks different from the rest. Doing my best to keep my heart from pounding too quickly, I scamper over, and I begin to dig. The mitts actually make it a lot easier. I sc
oop out some of the soft dirt, and I tear a hole in the ground.
For several minutes, I scoop and scrape. My arms start to get heavy, and I'm beginning to breathe heavily, but I don't care.
"Is that what you think? You think you're going to find the key in there?" Michael asks. Honestly, I can't tell if he's taunting me, but I don't care.
I continue to work, moving faster and faster.
As the seconds stumble by, the hole becomes deeper. But after a while, I start to lose hope. I slow down, and then I give up altogether.
"What's wrong? You don't think this is where you're going to find the key?"
"What does it look like?" I ask, pressing my dog paws down against the dirt. My chest is rising and falling, my breasts heaving as I catch my breath.
"It's a small, square device. Actually, it looks a lot like a garage door opener. There are only two buttons on it, Off and On.”
It sounds so simple. I turn back to him again, and I use all of my social acumen to read his body language and tone of voice. As much as I want to be able to just stop this game, I believe him. If I can find this thing, then I will be able to get out of here.
Giving up on this hole, I move forward. Going along on all fours, I scan the ground some more, hoping that I might get lucky.
Before Michael took me, lots of people would tell me that I was lucky. Now, I try to call upon that same good fortune. At the same time, I understand the numbers. The chances of me finding this key, if it even exists at all, seem pathetically small.
But I don't give up.
If nothing else, I'm a stubborn girl, so I continue to crawl around like a little dog, searching for a treat.
Searching from my left to my right, I keep looking for some telltale sign. Then I see another spot that looks good. Bracing my weight on my knees, I push my paws down into the ground. The dirt does seem softer here, like it's been recently disturbed. That gives me just a trace of hope.
Swallowing, I start digging again. Even as I work mindlessly, I glance up toward the sky. No, time is definitely not on my side. The sun will be setting soon.
With another spike of adrenaline, I dig is fast as I can. I scrape and pull against the ground until there is a big hole in front of me.
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