Doggie Stylin’ by Lance Edwards

E-Book can be purchased here —–> http://ebookstore.sony.com/ebook/lance-edwards/caught-taught-tamed-trained/_/R-400000000000000186309 __________________ Doggie Stylin’ by Lance Edwards, Femdom, puppy training and humiliation Mistress explains to a room full of female friends just how she turned her husband into her pet dog, Fluffy. Excerpted from the complete Doggie Stylin’ short story: Copyrighted © 2006 by Lance Edwards, all rights reserved. ——————————————————————————- Doggie Stylin’ Long before she reached my cage, I could tell it was time for another show. The distinctive sound of Mistress’ special boots rapping along the concrete floor, even the subtle tempo of excitement evident in her tread, told me all I needed to know. This sound, once the cause of such anguish, dread and regret, now fills me with excitement too. That alone shows how far I’ve fallen. Finally Mistress crossed the basement to the hidden corner niche where I now live. Stopping just beyond the door to my cage, she gleamed at me, her sparkling eyes and dazzling smile accentuating her stunning beauty so much that seeing it smote my heart to the core. Mistress’ skin is a flawless chocolate brown, and her corn-rowed sable hair was bundled at her crown and then fell in beautifully beaded cables to the small of her back. She is of average height and weight. Yet her gleaming black boots added four inches to her perfectly shaped legs and her cupless brassiere lifted and emphasized her naturally full, heavy breasts to the point where you’d swear they weighed at least ten pounds each. Her tight, smoothly muscled midriff was bare, as usual, and likewise her black latex penis pants sported the same impressive organ as always. Ten inches long and two inches thick, the sight of her big black cock cowed and wowed me in equal measure. Seeing me humbly crouched in my cage by my food and water bowls (the latter empty and the first still half full of Alpo) she laughed delightedly. “Hi little doggie! It’s time for another show!” On the roof of my four foot high and wide cage sat (among other things) a ball gag, a thin leather leash, and the remote control device that activated my shock collar. Mistress picked up this last, and waggled it at me. “I won’t be needing this, will I?” Obeying our standing rules, I woofed twice, our code for “No.” “You’re going to behave yourself, aren’t you?” This time I woofed once. These two responses are all the oral communication I’m allowed, aside from whining, whimpering, crying, and the occasional uncontrollable moans and groans. Satisfied, Mistress clipped the remote to her hip, where it would be in easy reach if she needed to punish or subdue me. Then she unlocked the small, steel mesh cage where I spend almost all of my time. “Come forward two steps, Fluffy!” On all fours (my only permitted mode of locomotion) I advanced to the open door. Mistress popped the ball gag into my mouth, then tightened and buckled the straps behind my head and underneath my chin. Next she fitted a pair of small plastic hooks into my nostrils, ran the attached cord up over my head and back down behind it to the ball gag buckle at my nape. She pulled this tight, until my nose was snubbed up like that of a pig – or the dog that I was, am, and forevermore will be – and then tied it off. Finally she snapped the leash to the aforementioned collar locked about my neck (one of six that I wear at all times) and tugged me forward. “Come on, little doggie. It’s time for you to earn me some more money!” Mistress led me across the spacious basement and toward the stairs. As we started up, she surprised me by offering a reward for once, instead of just threatening punishment as usual. “Now you be a good little doggie tonight, and I’ll give you a bowl of raisin bran. Won’t that be nice, to get people food for once? And if you really make me proud, I’ll even pour milk on it! You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Unable to woof while muzzled, I nodded vigorously. Mistress giggled at that, and finished hauling me up the steps. Out of the basement, through the kitchen, down two long corridors she led me, until at last we arrived at her ballroom – double entendre definitely intended. A circular central upraised stage about ten feet in diameter was surrounded by video cameras and a crowd of between twenty and thirty female guests. All wore fetish attire to one degree or another, the only constant being the cocks that sprouted from every crotch. Chatting amongst themselves, sampling the wide variety of food and drink available on perimeter tables, even indulging in various illegal drugs, they all burst into cheers, jeers, and applause as Mistress led me through their midst and up onto the stage. Set into the center of this platform in a triangle formation were three ring bolts. Mistress led me to the apex ring, where she pushed me down onto my elbows and locked my neck collar and the two on my wrists to this ring. Bent over with my face in my hands, I spread my knees wide and my feet wider without being told. Immediately Mistress locked each ankle collar to its respective ring, securing me on elbows and knees with my head down and my tail thrust up high in the air. Only one of my collars was left unattached, yet that one brought me the most misery, as I uselessly and stupidly strained toward erection. Utterly helpless, abysmally humiliated and yet in breathless suspense, I waited then as Mistress began the show, as always, with some introduction and back-story. “Welcome, ladies, to my twenty-eight dog show. Of course, each of my shows features only one dog, my former husband here. But they are always wildly entertaining nonetheless. As always, let me begin by explaining how Fluffy here went from being my mate to my dog. Those of you familiar with the story please bear with me a minute. We’ll get down to the fun soon enough!” There was much giggling and whispering at this. When it had stilled, Mistress continued. “Now then: once upon a time I married a seemingly completely normal white guy. I say seemingly because soon enough it became clear that the only way he wanted to fuck me was doggie style. This was bad enough, because his puny white prick was so small that I could only get adequate penetration for orgasm by holding him down and riding him silly. But what was worse, he soon began endlessly pestering me to allow him to fuck me in the ass from behind. Even when I refused, he would still try to surreptitiously slip it into me that way. His obsession with anal sex must have been overpowering, because finally he made the biggest mistake of his life. One night he slipped rohypnol into my wine. Then, when I’d become too incoherent and compliant to resist, he raped my bottom. He did so brutally and repeatedly.” Angry murmurs and exclamations arose at this, and once again Mistress was forced to wait for this reaction to subside. Then she resumed. “When I’d recovered somewhat, I considered my response to this outrage. My options, it seemed, were three. I could submit, and do nothing. This was of course out of the question. I could opt for divorce, and prosecution. But this too was an unsatisfactory proposition, bound to be personally humiliating and unlikely to provide proper justice. The last option was too devise and carry out a fit punishment of my own. “As you can clearly see, it is this option I chose. And as you can also see, the results have been more rewarding than anything I could have possibly dreamed! “In short, my fellow Mistresses, I decided that since he was so obsessed with doing it doggie style, and was already such a dog himself in the sense of a sexually depraved male, I would transform him from my husband to my pet, my dog to be exact. Then I would spend the rest of my life doing to his ass what he so wickedly did to mine. “First, I drugged him, using chloroform rather than rohypnol. Then while he was out, I dyed his hair pink, cut, curled and styled it as you see, so that it hangs down in pigtails to either side like the floppy fluffy ears of a French poodle. I used shoe polish to turn his formerly white nose black, as you can also see, and a variety of ball gags to keep him properly muzzled. Next I locked six collars onto him, all but one of them covered in fluffy pink sheepskin, to further his resemblance to a poodle. The one about his neck is a state of the art shock training collar of course, which I first used to subdue any attempted insubordination, and have since employed regularly for training and discipline. This has proved very effective, as you can see. Fluffy here has long since given up any thought of resistance, and has adapted remarkably well to his new canine lifestyle. “The sixth collar, as you can also see, is a small metal sleeve encircling the shaft of Fluffy’s miniscule white-boy penis. This collar requires no lock, since it is held in place by a number of pins piercing through the penis itself. When properly limp, Fluffy’s penis experiences very little discomfort from this – now that the healing process is complete of course. But any attempted erection pulls these piercings and pins apart, causing exquisite agony. As you can see, Fluffy is trying to erect even now, so aroused is he by his public degradation, and even more by the thought of what is about to happen to him. But the chastity collar stops this attempt cold, and you can tell by his dripping sweat and wheezing breath just how much pain he is in from it. “Anyway, the last step in his physical modification was the addition of a tail. A large plastic plug has been inserted into his rectum, and protruding from this is the pink puffball that you can see here. Wag your tail for the ladies, Fluffy.” Mortified, I wiggled my up-thrust ass, making the makeshift tail sticking out of it waggle back and forth. “That’s a good doggie,” praised Mistress. Then she finished describing how she made the most out of my permanent transformation. “Fluffy now eats nothing but dog food – except on rare occasions – and he lives in the basement cage you can see on the webcam monitor here. The only time he is allowed out is for my regular dog shows, and my even more regular fucking of his slutty little French poodle ass. And as you all know of course, all of this is webcast live twenty-four hours a day on my website, where I also sell picture scans, mpeg videos, and even compilation DVDs of his daily degradation. All this in addition to charging admission to shows like this, where you will all be allowed to watch me butt fuck him in person, and then be given the opportunity to do it to him yourselves. Naturally I’m delighted to announce that I cleared over twenty thousand dollars this way last year alone. “So!” Mistress exclaimed with undisguised zeal, “Let’s get this show on the road!” Cheering erupted from all sides. Squirming helplessly both within and without, I felt a fresh surge of agony in my collared cock, as it tried once again to erect. Whimpering with pain, tortured by the conflict between the shame of my condition and my lately uncontainable craving for what was about to happen, I waited in agonized suspense while Mistress lubed up her own impressive erection. But then at last she stepped up, grasped my fluffy little tail, and pulled the huge plug from my ass with an excruciation wrench. _______ E-Book can be purchased here —–> http://ebookstore.sony.com/ebook/lance-edwards/caught-taught-tamed-trained/_/R-400000000000000186309