Chapter 5

It's strange to be naked all the time after spending some 18 years being clothed for most of it. Not that I was ashamed of my body, I wasn't and never had been. I wasn't even particularly shy. I mean the physical part of being exposed to every little thing you can think of was strange. It was nice and warm in my room. The floor was smooth and the water cold, of course, but after a few days I was becoming used to it. I even began looking forward to the bracing chill that brought me wide awake every morning. That was actually better than a cup of coffee because I didn't have to pee 20 minutes later.

Outside was different though. It was springtime in Washington and so the wind was cool and the sun still distant. It rained often and the ground was soft and spongy and cold. I had no shoes, no raincoat or anything, I was a bitch, a female dog, and I had come to enjoy that role even as I wondered how long it could possibly last. But I didn't really like going outside yet. There were rocks, and weeds with sharp sticklers, and twigs and insects. I had to go out though, not leastwise because it would get awfully boring in my room all the time. Besides, my three companions loved it outside and I knew they wanted me to join them on their daily expeditions around the property.

So it was a slow but deliberate process for me, going out and becoming used to the ever changing environment. Some days were cold and wet, other days warm and sunny, and gradually I came to enjoy the difference. It took a few months, perhaps longer than that before my feet became calloused enough that I didn't mind running wild with my mates, even across the gravel of the driveway. Where once I'd almost tip-toed gingerly, ohhing and ahhing over every uncomfortable step, now I felt little if any discomfort.

I'd also learned to avoid certain plants and bushes, learning to recognize the best paths and routes as I ran with the dogs. And I did run, although I'd hardly been athletic before. Now I had muscles and my lungs were free and clear and my heart seemed larger somehow. I could run for an hour easily, up and down the gently sloping hills, through the fields and grasslands, chasing my brothers and being chased happily. I put on weight, but I was not fat at all. I was lean and strong, the way a dog should be, and I knew my Master was proud of the way I was changing, growing even, for that's what it felt like. I'd been a puppy until I'd come here, lost and confused and full of mischief, but no more.

The summer was best. The world greeted me warmly beneath a bright blue sky very nearly everyday as the end of June approached. I had little use for time though. I had no idea what the date was or even what day of the week it was. There was daytime and nighttime and that was all. Every few days my Master would shave my sex and underarms, simply because he enjoyed grooming me, I think. I might have preferred it otherwise, but I enjoyed his attentions and I would lick his hand eagerly on those mornings. Occasionally he would mount me, but only after one or more of the other dogs had done so. He was most interested in watching us copulate, and Master had taken to spending most of his evenings in an old rocking chair, reading a book or magazine while we sported for his attention and pleasure.

I hadn't spoken to a human in a long time and I felt little need for it any longer, although I spoke occasionally to the other dogs. But that was rare because it seemed strange. I'd come to understand the sounds of the other dogs, their growls and barks and whines, and I'd come to emulate them after a fashion, although doubtless it would sound funny to a person. I'd never thought of dogs as talkative. I mean, when I was a pup and trying to be human, I figured they just made noise to mean a few things, like hunger or pain, or anger maybe. But in truth, the language of dogs is a lot more complex than that and we communicated thoughts and feelings, and even ideas which would have seemed quite normal between humans. So why would it be less so for dogs?

The memories of my ignorance made me giggle sometimes, and I tried not to laugh too much, because it was the one sound I still made that was utterly human and I felt almost ashamed of it. But my mates didn't mind, in fact I think they rather enjoyed the sound and would often tease me with their mouths and tongues, tickling me along my ribs just to hear me laugh.

I bathed them, of course, which was one great advantage my biology gave me. I was able to care for myself and the other dogs much more easily than they could themselves in some ways. I kept the fleas and ticks away, kept our bedding clean, airing out the mattress every few days, and of course our Master was diligent in all things as well, such as washing our blankets and quilts. He didn't require me to crawl on my hands and knees outside; as such a thing would have been silly. It was a good life, a dog's life, and so far as I could remember, I was happy for the very first time.

There were other changes as well. I'd long since removed my human jewelry, my rings and earrings, finding them rather useless and unappealing. My Master agreed also and I think it pleased him that I'd removed those things about a month after I'd arrived, without being asked or told, and simply left them near our empty dinner bowls one evening for Master to find. Perhaps that was the sign he'd been waiting for, or maybe just a coincidence of timing, although since that night outside the 7-11 in Seattle I'd stopped believing in coincidence and luck.

Master entered the room an hour after he'd found my jewelry, bringing his chair as usual. All of us hurried over to greet him, of course, and we jostled and climbed over each other, licking at his hands and growling happily as he stroked us each in turn. I always became aroused when he was near, which may seem strange as it was not for him that I grew excited, but for my companions. I cannot say why, perhaps it was simply that I enjoyed the way our Master seemed content and pleased as he watched me mate with the other dogs. I always enjoyed our unions, but it was even better with Master watching us.

"Go on. Shoo now..." Master smiled as he pushed Bandy and then Bush away, and finally Barley as well, wanting to speak to me as I knelt in front of him. "I have your tags, girl," he said, reaching into the breast pocket of his flannel shirt. There were three of them, heart shaped and shiny, although one was red.

I leaned forward eagerly as I'd been waiting a long time for this. The other dogs had their tags and my collar felt light without them. It's a small thing, perhaps, but it was important to me. To my Master as well and I appreciated that he'd taken his time to observe me and decide carefully upon a name. He'd called me girl and bitch for the better part of a month and while I had grown fond of those terms and knew he wouldn't stop addressing me as such completely, I also knew that once he'd named me I was that much further from my pervious life.

"I'm going to call you Dare." He smiled and held up one silvery pendant for me to see and it was stamped with the four simple letters.

I might have spoken then, for the first time in two weeks, and said my name; but I didn't want to. It was better to hear it from my Master's lips as he said it again and again, clipping the tag to my collar as I lifted my chin.

"That's a good girl, Dare. That's my beautiful girl. Good Dare..."

And he was stroking my neck gently while I tilted my head and nuzzled him with a soft growl of pleasure that I'd been practicing.

"I've filed the paperwork to change your name legally. Have to go through a federal court for that, since we're on reservation land, so that will take awhile, but it won't be a problem," Master spoke softly while I rested my head against his thigh. I think he was saying it for both of us, really, since I didn't have to know any of that stuff.

"So, anyhow ... This one..." he held up the reddish tag. "This is to let people know you're sensitive to penicillin. You didn't know that, did you?"

I licked my lips and gave my head the barest shake. I hadn't known I had any allergies, but my Master had brought a man to examine me a week after I'd arrived. It was the last time I'd been human, or pretended to be, and I'd dressed and acted the part while the doctor checked my body, drew blood and took urine. He created a medical record and it had been a tedious process as I'd never been sick or in a hospital that I could recall, except for chicken pox when I was very small, and the occasional cold, but everyone gets those. If the doctor had wondered what I was doing living with my Master, he didn't ask or comment on it, and I didn't know what my Master had told him.

The only part of the experience that was vaguely uncomfortable had been my pelvic exam, when the man had gotten between my thighs and checked my vagina. It was obvious to him that I'd been enjoying a rather stressful sex life. My pussy was tender and red, and swollen from taking each of the dogs several times every day and night for a week. I had felt it, believe me, but I hadn't complained or anything. I'd hoped that my body would become used to it and the soreness simply go away, but the doctor clucked his tongue and asked me what I'd been doing.

"I mate with the dogs," I told him, feeling a little uneasy, but my Master had told me to answer every question truthfully.

"I see." He didn't seem terribly surprised at that, since he was a country doctor maybe. I expected he'd seen and heard his fair share of strange stories and really, coupling with dogs couldn't be all that uncommon, could it?

"You're a very small girl and those dogs are..." he glanced at Bandy, Barley, and Bush who were outside and looking rather testy. They didn't care for strangers at all and they liked strangers in their room, poking at their bitch even less. "They're rather large. Are you well lubricated? I mean, are you willing and, um, wet when you do it?" He seemed more embarrassed than me actually, which seemed strange since he was a doctor and a rather old one at that.

"Oh yes," I nodded. "I'm really wet by the time we start mating."

"Okay. Uh, good. But you have some lesions, a little tearing, probably from the first time and you haven't given them time to heal. You need to rest your body, alright?" I nodded as he continued. "No vaginal sex for at least two weeks, maybe three. I'll give you a prescription for some antibiotic ointment. You need to keep yourself clean and apply it twice every day, after bathing, okay? After a few weeks, once you've healed, you can continue with your um, fun ... But I suggest you take them one at a time from now on. One session a day and see how that goes, alright?"