When we left the club, it was quite apparent that we were not in America. People were speaking a whole different language here. It sounded like French, but I wasn’t sure. My owner (mistress? the word made me sick) watched me carefully, making sure I was walking correctly and keeping my mouth shut. If anyone outside of the club found out I could still think and talk, I would either be put to sleep or fully converted. Neither option really appealed to me, so I kept my mouth shut.

It was a nice day. Not too hot, but warm enough that I was comfortable with just the sun on my skin. My very exposed skin. I could feel my tits swing with every step I took. They weren’t even very big, but then, I wasn’t wearing a bra and I was crawling around on the ground. My only solace came from learning that I could hide my ass with my tail.

She didn’t talk to me at all as we walked. It made sense. Why talk extensively to a dog that couldn’t understand you? She was just keeping up the illusion. I tried my best to look stupid and pleased with my lot. That wasn’t very hard, actually. I could hear and smell so much more now. There were a few moments that I forgot about what I was doing and just sniffed. Occasionally, I would even pause to smell something interesting on the ground (a candy wrapper here, a strange plant there), but she would tug on my leash and give me a quick swat on the bum. Not hard, just corrective.

I found myself wishing I had the balls to cut and run. It wouldn’t be that hard. I was getting used to walking on my paws, and I could tell that running wouldn’t be difficult. She was wearing high heels and a pencil skirt. There was no way she’d be able to keep up with me. But I ambled along obediently at her heels.

We boarded a train after a few blocks of walking. There were so many dogs on the train. I sniffed at them, curious. I wondered how many of them were like me. There was no way to tell. We all looked the same. However, this was the first time I glimpsed one of the hormonally imbalanced dogs. He was a dalmatian, his skin spotted with dark pigment. But I wasn’t really looking at his spots. I was staring at his cock. It had obviously been enhanced. He was obviously distressed by it: constantly tugging on his leash to sniff at females, attempting to bend over and lick the precum from the tip. Both actions ended up with his owner administering a swift bop on the nose.

“It’s at least nine inches, I think. Is Puppy turned on by the big doggy cock?” Her voice made me jump. I turned away from the dalmatian quickly, trying to find something else to look at. She grinned and patted my head patronizingly. “Perhaps we’ll have to find Puppy a stud.”

I blushed a bright red, hanging my head so at least my face was hidden by my hair. I certainly wasn’t a virgin, but the idea of having sex with a dog made me queasy. But I couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Finally, we left the close quarters of the train. Another block, and she led me up the steps to a rather modest house. We were near an ocean, I could smell it. I still couldn’t figure out where in the world we were though. Not that it mattered. There was no way I was getting on a plane or boat without a human. Pets did not travel alone.

In the foyer, my owner placed her keys on a small table, then picked up a small metal thing. A whistle? She gave it a short blast. Immediately, I heard something else moving in the house. A cat. He was walking on two legs and even wearing plain underwear though, which confused me. He glanced down at me, but locked his eyes on my (our?) owner instead.

“Harper. We still have some dog food, don’t we?” She stepped out of her high heels. If I were standing, she would be shorter than me by a few inches. I doubted I’d be standing anytime soon.

“I believe so, Miss Ana.” He nodded. “Would you like me to prepare some for the puppy?”

“That would be perfect, thank you. Would you feed her as well? I must shower.” She waved her hand, dismissing him. I watched him as he left the room. His tail and ears were a ruddy brown color. I wasn’t any expert on cat breeds, though, so I had no idea what he could be.

“Harper is my Abyssinian. Best kitty I’ve ever had, to be honest with you.” She smiled after him, then glanced down at me. “You are not to speak unless I ask you to, do you understand?”

I nodded, my ears flat against my head. She terrified me. “And if you do speak, you are to call me Miss or Ma’am. Do not call me Ana. Harper has earned that privilege. You have not. Now sit. Stay.”

As soon as I planted myself on the cool tile, she left. My stomach rumbled angrily. I had forgotten how hungry I was. Hopefully this dog food slop would be edible. Okay, I knew it would be edible, but I hoped it didn’t taste like shit. Harper returned, watching me nervously. Was he scared of me? He carried his tail low, but it was twitching slightly. “Come on. Food’s in the kitchen.” He picked up my leash and gave it a very light tug. I followed quickly, not wanting to cause him more anxiety than he was obviously feeling.

The house was decorated in what my mother would have called “French style cottage.” Ornate furniture coupled with rustic touches. A nice place, overall. Harper took me into the kitchen. I could finally see the food: a beefy stew, perhaps, presented in a large stainless steel bowl. “Go ahead. I’ll get you some water as well.”

As soon as he dropped my leash, my face was in the bowl. My tongue felt longer, even flatter, which made eating like this easier. The food really wasn’t so bad. It was thicker than stew, more like eating a thick meaty gravy, and the beef was good quality. It didn’t take me long to finish it off. After lapping up some water from the other metal bowl Harper placed in front of me, I sat back and wiped my mouth with the back of my arm.

“Good?” He smiled, although he still looked anxious.

I bobbed my head. “Thank you.” I whispered. His face turned dark and he bit his lip.

“What did I say about speaking?” Ana growled. I hadn’t even heard her come in. She yanked up a hank of my hair, lifting my front paws from the floor. I whimpered and felt hot tears sting my eyes.

“Puppy needs to learn she is just a little bitch, not a human anymore.” She slapped my face with her free hand. “Harper, get the stocks ready.” He nodded and hurried out of the kitchen, tail twitching madly behind him. She was still pulling my hair. I whined pitifully and looked up at her.

She stared down at me. “What a difficult little Puppy.” She sneered, then threw me to the floor. I picked myself up slowly, but didn’t have much time to recover. She was already pulling the leash, dragging me to yet another part of the house.

Shit. All I could do was tuck my tail between my legs and follow.