Revised October, 2007

A man regains consciousness to find himself transformed into a puppy. And that’s not the last of the changes he’ll undergo.

Queer Puppy

I opened my eyes, and immediately knew something was wrong. It's hard to describe, but I was very clear, and at the same time confused. For starters, I couldn't talk anymore. I wasn't gagged, or mute, I just didn't know any words or how to use them. I opened my mouth in a parody of what I knew was speech, and made sounds as I moved my mouth, but they weren't words. I knew they weren't real words.

Somehow I was aware that I could still understand perfectly well what people said; I just couldn't talk any more. Puppies can't talk. Puppies have to wear collars, and crawl on the floor, and grovel and live their lives as someone else pleases. I knew that I was a puppy now. Not a normal kind of puppy that had been born one, but somehow I'd been made into one.

My body didn't look like other puppies bodies, but that didn't change anything. How did I know this? Why was it so obvious to me what I now was? I didn't know. My puppy body was completely naked; I knew it shouldn’t be. I was cold. All the hair on my body was gone, even around my puppy peter. I had a shadow of memory that I used to have hair on my chest, but it was gone too. I didn't know when, or why it had happened. All I knew was that even though I used to be a person, a man, I wasn't any more. I used to do lots of things; I’d mated with women. I’d been in business, but now I couldn't walk or talk like a person. I had to crawl and whine, and bark. It's all I knew how to do. That time before was like a dream that was fading from my memory.

I tried to stand up, but couldn't get very far before I'd lost my balance and got dizzy. No, puppies stay on the floor. Puppies crawl. Oh God, what was happening to me? No, what had already happened to me? How does a person just open their eyes and know they aren't human anymore? How does that happen? I still looked like a person, but looks didn't change the truth. An involuntary whine of fear escaped me at that moment as if to punctuate my non-humanness.

No, this isn't real, I thought desperately. I don't want to be a puppy! Please no, I was meant to be a person. I don't want to be this. Of course I didn't say any of that, just thought it. Not even in words really, but just mental pictures, and feelings. I sobbed out loud, and was startled to feel tears rolling down my cheeks. I reached up to wipe them away, and realized that I couldn't open my paw anymore. No, not paw; it's my... Oh no, what is it called? I have to remember. Not paw though! It's definitely not a paw. Anyway, I couldn't open it up anymore. It used to open up, and I could do things with it. Pick things up, and make my front toes wiggle and curl around things. Front toes? That doesn't sound right either. I'm probably just being paranoid. What else would they be called?

My thoughts were interrupted as the door opened and he stepped through. I knew him very well, but who was he? I knew who he was now, but who was he before? This much I knew: now he was the one who was in charge of me. The one who controls me, and makes me do what he wants, and takes care of me. Puppies can't take care of themselves. My heart sank. No, puppies can't take care of themselves at all. But who was he before? I don't think he had always been in charge of me, just like I don't think I had always been a puppy. But I could no more remember him before he was my Master than I could remember myself before I was a puppy. Those shadows of memories that hovered just out of my grasp.

I was so ashamed to have him looking at me; seeing that I wasn't a person anymore. Seeing him watch me, and knowing what I was. I wanted to die. I wished he would stop looking at me. And now what? He's smiling at me. Oh why is he doing this to me? What is he doing to me? I weighed this question, and suddenly realized that it meant much more than I thought. I realized that it was he who had made me be a puppy; he who had taken away my rights and abilities to be a person.

It enraged me, and humiliated me even more that this was his doing. But what could I do? How does one change what they are? I looked at him, and he was smiling an amused smile at me. I crumbled, and lowered my face unable to look at him anymore; the weight of my shame pushing me to the floor.

He slapped his knees with his hands. "Here boy, come here puppy, come on boy!" he said to me in a jolly but condescending voice, and I hated him for talking to me like that.

But how else would he talk to me? He wanted me to come to him, and that's how you talk to puppies isn't it? My face felt hot, and my ears burned with humiliation as I tried desperately to fight the urge to go to him. Something about the way he coaxed me, and the sound of him slapping him knees just made me naturally want to go to him despite my torment. I was strong though; I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of controlling me, and I stayed put. I fixed my paws on the ground, and didn't move.

He saw that I wasn't coming to him; that I was fighting it with all my will, and an even more amused smile spread across his face. As he started to dig in him pocket, I began to think, he was in charge of me, but also took care of me. What if I made him mad? How would I eat? When would I get to do my business? Not business, what's the real word for it? Oh damn! Why can't I think of any of these important words? What if I made him angry, and he decided not to feed me? What would I do? Would I starve to death? My resolve was about to break. I was just about to crawl to him when he produced what he had been digging for in his pocket.

I looked at it in horror for a moment. It was a hard rubber chew toy; a red bone, and I was afraid, no panicked to realize that I wanted it. I couldn't look away from it as he moved it back and forth like a hypnotist with a pocket watch. My eyes were glued to it. I couldn't look away. I had to have it. Oh God PLEASE let me have it. I forced my gaze to break away from it so I could look up at his face with my big puppy dog eyes; my begging, sad puppy dog eyes.

I tried again desperately to think of who he was. I knew him very well, but he hadn't always been this. I hadn't always been this to him. How long ago had he changed into this all-powerful being? Or was it that I'd changed into a powerless creature? I didn't know and thinking about it made my headache.

I crawled very quickly to him, and sat in my most obedient attentive puppy posture. My legs splayed out behind me, my haunches wresting on ankles and my paws placed firmly on the floor in front of me. My little puppy peter and balls rested on the cold concrete. I looked up at him, and whined pitifully. I wanted the bone so much I couldn't stand it.

"Oh you want this?" he said in a very mocking tone of voice

I sat up on my haunches, and let my front paws dangle before my chest. I whimpered louder several times, and considered snatching it out of his hand with my teeth. He was holding it very close to my face.

"I shouldn't let you have it because you have been a bad boy not coming to me when I called. Don't you know puppies have to come to their Masters when they’re called?" he asked, his eyes those of an interrogating parent whose child has mis-behaved.

I barked and whined at him desperately, my eyes glued to the chew toy. He moved the toy behind his back, and my heart stopped. Oh no!

"Now I want you to be a very good puppy for Master. I want you to do everything Master says, or I will take this away, and you will never see it again. Do you want that to happen?" he asked.

I whined as if I had just lost something dear, and laid my head on the ground. He smiled very broadly.

"I didn't think so. You’ll make a fine puppy, once you’re learned how to obey your Master." His eyes focused on some intermediate distance. “All those times you laughed at me because I was uncool and a fag. You made fun of my degrees in psychology, saying I’d never get money and babes like you could. Just another cock sucker with a high-fallutin’ education. Well, look at you now, big, high-powered executive.”

His eyes were back on me and I cowered under his cold stare. I was so frightened I felt my bladder release and I wet the floor.

“Bad dog,” He yelled. “Bad, bad dog!”

He was swatting my rump over and over with his hand and I whined in fear and pain. Please don’t punish me Master. I’m sorry I wet.

He took my face in His hand and glared into my eyes.

“Puppies need to learn to go outside!” He said sternly and I tried to look away. “Look at me! You will do your business outside. If you wet inside again, you’ll be spanked and go without dinner!” He smacked my nose with His hand and I continued to look at Him, fear shining in my eyes.

Then He softened and scratched me behind my ears.

“I guess I scared you, didn’t I boy? I’m sorry. Let’s play a little.”

The next thing I knew, the bone was on the floor in front of my face, and I snatched it in my teeth. I bit down on it, and was in heaven and hell. I hated this. I didn't want to be doing it, but I had to chew it. I had to gnaw, and bite, and play with it. It was an absolute compulsion, but it made me sick with shame.

He watched me very amused, and chuckled. "What's the matter puppy? Can't stop chewing it even though you want to? Well puppies are ruled by their compulsions don't you know?"

I began to cry as I gnawed at the toy. I had never been addicted to any drug before, but I imagined this was what it was like. To have equal amounts of hate and need at the same time.

He knelt down beside me and started to pat my head. This too was humiliating, but at the same time it was pure ecstasy. The hair stood on the back of my neck, and my whole body tingled. I shivered with pleasure, and the last tear ran down my cheek as I drifted away on a cloud of delight. I could stay like this forever. I didn't care that I was a dog, this was warm, safe, comfortable place and I loved it.

Suddenly I was shocked back into reality as the bone pulled out of my teeth. It was a moment before I realized that He’d taken it from me and was putting it in a drawer near by. I was horrified. No! He couldn't do this! I'd die! I whimpered, and then began to growl. This got His attention, and He snapped around. "NO! Bad boy!" He scolded. His voice was so loud, so commanding, it almost hurt my brain to hear it.

He took a rope and tied it around my neck and pulled me to a large chair and tied the rope to it. “You’re a bad dog!” He said again and went back out the door He’d come in, leaving me all alone.

I sat there on my haunches, looking at the door. Where was He? Had He left me? What was going to happen to me? I needed Him; I really wanted Him. He talked to me; He smiled at me. He made me feel wanted. I started to whimper, sad that I’d growled at my Master. I couldn't imagine going against His voice. Whatever He ordered I must do. I’m sorry Master. Please come back! Please! I began to call to Him to come back and my voice rose in a long, drawn-out, pitiful howl.

After a long time, the door opened and He came back in the room. I was overjoyed and yipped with excitement, rearing up on my haunches and pawing the air with my front paws. I wiggled my rear end with joy I was so happy to see Him again. When He saw my reaction to Him, he softened and was all sweetness and smiles again.

"You're going to be such a good puppy. I'm so glad I have you now," He said, patting me on the head as I licked His leg and hand.

He saw my rump wiggling back and forth and gave me a playful swat. “I can see that I need to get puppy a tail. Every puppy should have a tail!” he said.

“Let me give you something else to chew on. Maybe you were weaned too early and need something to satisfy your need, poor puppy.” And He patted my head condescendingly.

Then He pulled down the front of his pants and pulled out His peter. But it wasn’t at all like my little puppy peter; it was big and hairy and stiff.

“Come here boy!” He said and I had to go to him because I wanted it so badly.

I didn’t want it; I only wanted to please Him. My shadow memory told me I’d never taken a man’s peter in my mouth before and felt the same way I’d felt when I wet the floor: I was ashamed. But I wanted to please Him so badly. I don’t know why; I don’t understand it. I was sure I’d never had a man’s peter in my mouth before, but I needed to have it. He held it in His hand and patted His leg.

“C’mon. Up boy!”

I sat up on my haunches, my front paws dangling against my chest and opened my mouth. I looked at it hungrily and my mouth watered.

“Good boy, you’re coming along well,” he cooed and put his peter in my mouth. “Now you can suck on it. That’s a good puppy.”

I sucked and sucked, trying to relieve my need. I licked its shiny red knob and licked at the slit where a wonderful salty fluid came out. As I did, my puppy peter began to get harder and longer and bumped up against my trim belly.

“This will be a nice snack for my puppy,” he said. “Suck on it now! I can see you’re learning to like cock,” and I took it in my mouth and sucked hard.

After some time, I was beginning to get tired and started to whine.

“It won’t be long puppy. Just a little more.”

Soon, His peter throbbed in my mouth and my puppy mouth was filled with a bitter salty liquid that I swallowed quickly. I wanted it and didn’t want Him to take it away from me like He had my chew toy. So I swallowed it and licked His peter clean to get every drop.

“Good boy. Good puppy. Now hold still a minute. Keep your mouth on my cock.”

I waited, not know what was coming next but knowing that if Master wanted it, I would do it. Then, in a couple of minutes, I felt his peter throb and hot, bitter fluid began streaming down my throat. I gulped and swallowed as fast as I could, somehow knowing that He didn’t want his piddle on the floor any more than He wanted mine. Finally, the stream trailed off and, squeezing His peter, He pulled it out of my mouth.

“Good boy!” he said. “Now sit! I still need to name you, and I can't decide yet."

My face turned red at this. Need to name me? I have a name. I've always had a name it's... It's... Well, He knows it. Why is He saying He has to name me? You can't name someone who's already named. Can you?

"Rover is my favorite so far, but it's just such a cliched dog name that lots of the other masters are sure to name their puppies Rover too."

I almost threw up at the realization that if He named me that I'd have to answer to it. I'd have to constantly acknowledge that my name was in fact Rover. This can't be. He can't call me that please!

"Of course, there's Fido and Rex too, but they have the same problem. I don't want ten doggies perking up and coming to me every time we're the park and I call your name now do I?"

My stomach churned at the thought. He was going to name me something awful. Some stupid demeaning name that degraded me constantly, and I couldn't do anything about it. And what was that about the park? He was going to take me to the park? He’d take me outside like this? Where people could see me?

"But don't worry, Master has already come up with the answer."

He produced a brown leather collar with big black letters on it. I could see them clearly, but couldn't read it. For a moment I wondered if it was another language or something, but the characters were far too familiar for that. The plain fact was I couldn't read any more.

"Oh I'm sorry, I forgot doggies can't read." He said as He buckled it in place around my neck. "It says ‘Bobo’. Your name is Bobo." I died a small death inside at hearing this. "I know it sounds kind of funny, like a clown, but I think it's cute too. You look like a Bobo to me, and so you are."

The strangest thing was that every time He said the word Bobo, my attention sprang to Him. My eyes fixed on Him and for a few moments I couldn't look away. I could hardly hear anything else, and briefly it seemed like the rest of the world had blurred some and become dim. Whenever He said my name, it was like He had a leash connected to my mind and He'd just yanked it hard. I was incapable of ignoring it, and every time I looked at Him, I knew it was as if I were saying. "Yes, my name is Bobo, and I am a dog." Every time He said my name “Bobo”, I forgot a little bit more of “before”. “Before” was fading away. I wanted to die. I felt like I was dying.

“Come on puppy,” Master said. “There’s a nice vet upstairs to check out my new puppy and take care of a few things.”

Master snapped a leash onto my collar and headed for the door with me following behind. He bounded up the steps but the wooden stairs were very hard on my puppy knees. I followed as quickly as I could but couldn’t keep up so Master kept yanking on my leash to make me hurry. Please, Master, I’m going as fast as I can…

Master took me into a big room with several soft chairs and a sofa that looked like a wonderful place to curl up and take a nap on. Suddenly realizing how tired I was, I started toward the sofa but Master yanked my leash again.

“Oh no, puppies don’t get on the couch. Certainly not without permission,” He chuckled and pulled me through the room.

In the next room there was another man sitting at a table.

“So this is your new pup,” he said with a cheery voice. “What a good pup,” he said, taking my head in his hands and ruffling my hair. “What a fine pedigree he has: one of the wealthiest breeders in the state. I know he’ll make you very happy Quent,” he said, looking at my Master.

“I think so. Took me long enough to get him but it was worth it. There’re just a few alterations I’d like to make, as I said when we spoke. Did you bring everything Sam.?”

“Yup, got it right here,” he said, patting a leather bag next to him on the floor.

I eyed the bag hungrily, wondering what was inside. Treats? Food? I was suddenly seized by hunger pangs and whimpered a little as my mouth watered and I licked my chops. At least my Master’s piss had reduced my thirst.

“OK boy,” the man said. “Just a few minutes and I’m sure your Master will feed you. Where do you want to do it?” he asked my Master. “I’d suggest the kitchen table; it’s the right height and we can clean up more easily.”

“That’s fine,” Master answered and barking “Heel”, pulled me through another door.

This room was shiny and clean. The floor was hard and the light was bright. The man Master called “Sam” spread a plastic sheet on the table and taped it down. Master pulled a chair away from the table.

“Up boy. Come on. Climb up on the chair and get on the table.”

Clumsily, I climbed up onto the chair and then onto the table. Master and Sam rolled me over and had me lie on my back, exposing my belly and my peter. Since Master was Master, I knew it was the right thing to do: to expose myself to Him and be vulnerable. He was the alpha male and I was just a pup. They buckled what looked like small collars on my four legs and spread me out, buckling the collars to the legs of the table.

“Wait a second,” Master said. “Unbuckle his hind-quarters so we can roll him back. I want to insert his tail first.”

Sam nodded and unbuckled the collars on my hind-quarters and then pulled my legs up over my head, exposing my butt. Master took some sort of tube and squeezed clear gel onto His fingers, which He then pushed into my butt. I squirmed and whined at the invasion: it hurt a lot and I wiggled my rump in an effort to escape the intruding fingers, but was firmly held down by my Master and his friend. Master wiggled His fingers around and stretched my hole. Then He took an object in His free hand and, removing His fingers, shoved the object into my aching hole. I arched my back and howled; it seemed like my rump was on fire.

“Breathe Bobo, breathe,” whispered Master. “Pant for me and that will help you get used to it.”

Obediently, I panted and found that what He’d told me was true: my hole began to relax and the burn began to ease. Master stroked my face with His hand and I turned and licked it, whimpering softly. My Master took care of His pup and I knew He always would.

After a little while, Sam released my legs and I was allowed to roll back down onto my back. Then Master re-attached the collars to the table legs, spreading me once again.

“Now boy, I want everyone to know that you’re my pup so I’m going to have Dr. Larkin give you some markings that will tell everyone whose pup you are. You want that don’t you boy?” my Master smiled at me, ruffling my hair.

Yes, I wanted that! I panted and yipped. Anything to please my Master. He was my life-line, my caretaker, my soul. Anything to please Him!

“Good boy,” He said, patting me on the head and looking up at Dr. Larkin. “It’s amazing how a little suggestion and continuous reinforcement can turn a hard-driving executive into a compliant, obedient little doggy. Let’s get started. Nipples first.”

Dr. Larkin grinned and opened a bottle. He swabbed some cold liquid on my nipples and then took a needle in his hand.

“Maybe you’d better put something in his mouth to keep him from biting,” Dr. Larkin said and Master nodded. He took a wooden spoon from a drawer and ordered me to open my mouth. Wanting only to please Him, I opened wide. He placed the handle of the spoon between my jaws and told me to bite on it. I obeyed and He nodded to Dr. Larkin.

Dr. Larkin pinched my right nipple hard and I felt a jolt of pain hit my chest and scream down my belly all the way to my peter and balls. Again, I arched my back and howled, though the spoon handle turned my howl into a high-pitched squeal. Dr. Larkin pulled my pierced nipple away from my body and pushed a heavy ring through the hole. Then he opened another tube that smelled really bad and squeezed some clear liquid onto one end of the open ring before closing it with a pair of pliers.

“That will seal it up. This glue never quits,” he said, smiling at my Master.

He repeated the process on my left tit and, by the time he’d finished, I’d nearly chewed through the spoon handle. I could only hope my Master wouldn’t be too angry with me; I didn’t want to destroy anything that was His. But my chest hurt so bad. There were tears streaming down my snout and I was crying loudly. Master stroked my head and shushed me, telling me it would be over soon and when Dr. Larkin was finished, He’d have a treat for me. I looked into His eyes and tried to ignore the pain in my chest.

“I think I’d better use a topical for the next bit,” Dr. Larkin said. “It won’t completely deaden him but it’ll be too traumatic if I don’t, especially at his age. Could kill him.”

“OK,” Master said. “After all this trouble, I really want to keep him around. I’m growing attached to my new pup and I’m looking forward to turning him into a well-trained dog.”

I couldn’t see what Dr. Larkin was doing but there was a sudden, sharp pain between my legs and I whimpered again. After a couple of minutes, I felt Dr. Larkin touching my ball sack but I couldn’t distinguish the nature of his touch.

“No pain now,” he said. “Do you want to hold his head up so he can watch?”

“Sure,” Master said and moved around the table to the place where my head rested. “Come on boy. Time for the last alterations,” He said, cradling my head and lifting it off the table.

Dr. Larkin lifted my ball sack and held some sort of black thing against it. I could feel the pressure and clarity came in a flash. Something in the back of my brain, some remainder of my humanity, screamed in protest. They were going to neuter me! Whatever remnant of my manhood was left from whatever my Master had done to my mind, was going to be cut from me. I would be completely be a pup. I raised my voice in a howl of fear and distress. Then I felt the pressure move through my flesh and I knew they were gone. As tears spilled out of my eyes, I heard Dr. Larkin talking to Master.

“What about his penis? Do you want me to take it too? Or would you like me to stitch it to his abdomen so he looks more like a dog?”

“No, take it off. If you stitch it to his abdomen, he’ll be pissing all over himself and making a mess.”

“OK, here goes,” said Dr. Larkin quietly.

Taking a deep breath, he moved against my peter and I felt the tool slice through it. At that point, I was beyond grief. The room grew dark and I faded into blackness.

When I woke up, I was still stretched on the table but the collars had been removed from my legs. Dr. Larkin seemed to be finishing up. I looked down and saw nothing where my peter and ball sack had been.

“I’ve sewn some extra skin around the root where his penis used to be and he’ll be able to piss normally, but he’ll have to squat to do it,” he said.

“That’s fine. That’s the way a bitch should piss. And it’ll make it a lot easier to fuck him without that extra flesh hanging down.”

Master helped me down off the table and back onto the floor. I stood there on all fours, my head hung in shame and humiliation. I was a pup and would never be anything but a pup.

“Good. Well that’s it. What time’s dinner Quent?”

“I thought we’d do take out. I’ll phone the sushi place over on Park.”

“Sounds good to me,” Dr. Larkin said, hugging Master and giving Him a kiss. “Where’s he going to sleep tonight? He’s not sleeping with us, is he?”

“God no! I’m not having a dog sleeping in our bed. I picked up a bed for him at the pet mart. Should work out just fine. I’ve put it at the foot of the bed so we can hear him if there are any problems after his alterations. In a couple of days, after he heals, we’ll start his bitch training. It’s sure nice to have a dog again.”