Author’s note: This is a new story; it is based on a conversation with a young lady I met on Fetlife.
This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance by any character in this story to any real person is purely coincidental. Copyright © by Mister Archie, 2019, all rights reserved.
His name was Jack, but she hadn’t called him that in a long time. Even though they lived together, and spent most of every day together, it had been two years since she had used his name. In fact, it had been over a year since she had spoken to him at all. Jack was 55, fit, with salt & pepper hair, and a killer beard and mustache.
Her name was Amanda, but Jack never called her that, either. He sometimes called her Mandy, but he had a number of other pet names for her, so her name wasn’t used very much. Amanda was a 25-year-old black girl, but she didn’t identify as a black girl. In her own mind, and to those who accepted her choice, Amanda was a dog. Jack’s dog.
Because she identified as a dog, Amanda only wore clothes when it couldn’t be avoided. She always wore her leather dog collar, with it’s engraved tag labelling her as “Mandy”, and “Property of Master Jack” with his phone number. She also bore a subcutaneous microchip that allowed her to be tracked via GPS using an app on Jack’s phone. Mandy had stopped carrying a phone two years earlier, when she had become Jack’s dog. That was when she also stopped wearing clothes, using silverware or toilets, and walking upright, except when they went out in public together. Mandy never went out alone at all. Nude and on all fours, wearing nothing but her collar, and special padded mittens that kept her hands balled into fists, and special knee pads, Mandy spent her days wandering aimlessly around Jack’s house, sometimes dozing on her dog bed at the foot of his bed, sometimes laying at his feet as he watched TV or worked at his computer, and always waiting attentively as he ate dinner at the table, hoping for scraps from his hand.
Mandy’s meals, two of them per day, were served to her in a large dog bowl on the kitchen floor. They consisted of a special high-quality, human-consumable dog food, sometimes augmented with slices of fruit or even occasionally real meat.
When she’d first come to Jack’s house, he had punished her every time she’d spoken without permission by forcing her to hold a bar of soap in her mouth. This was so effective that within a month, he never had to do it again; she never spoke without asking. And then gradually, he had denied her permission to speak more and more often, until she simply never asked again; that had been a year ago.
He had also trained her to obey a series of typical “doggy” commands, including “sit”, “stay”, “down”, “roll over”, “beg”, and “speak”, which prompted her to issue a cheerful “arf! arf!” Mandy loved to play fetch in the back yard, bounding on all fours to bring back in her teeth the stick he would throw for her. Exercise like this had helped her to lose fifteen pounds, and gotten her to a lean shape.
Not speaking with words at all, Mandy had learned to communicate using dog sounds, and she and Jack had developed a clear understanding of the meanings of sounds like “arf”, “woof”, and “bark”, as well as whimpering and growling sounds. Mandy never paid attention to what Jack said unless he called her name, or by any of the other pet names he used for her, such as “doggy”, “cunt”, “nigger”, “girl”, “whore”, and many others. Like any pet dog, Mandy recognized that he was calling her more by the tone of the voice than by the word he used. Otherwise she paid no attention to anything he said on the phone, or to any other person who might be nearby. Jack believed that Mandy no longer thought in words, but only in terms of emotions, or colors, sensations, sounds, tastes, and smells.