|
Island of Circe, part 1(Transgender Archives)
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
Island of Circe -- Part 1
author unknown
*****
I sat at my mistress' feet and watched the news segment with growing
fascination and arousal. Since I had been told to watch the screen I
didn't turn to look at her but I felt that her eyes were on me, not on
the segment which she must already have seen. I was sure that she would
be aware, at least, of my sexual arousal. Indeed given that, as usual
when we were private, I was naked apart from my collar she could hardly
have missed it. Not that that embarrassed me any more. I long ago gave up
my right to hide anything from her. When it was over I turned over onto
my knees and waited.
"I was thinking we might visit the place, you and I." She said. "Would
that please you?"
I did not answer immediately. One of her rules is that I must never
speak without pausing for thought. And indeed thought was needed to sort
out my contradictory feelings. "It pleases me to obey." I began at
last. "And what would happen to me there might please me. It frightens
me and excites me. I find the things that are supposed to be done to
slaves there erotic in fantasy. How I would face the reality I can't say.
I would try to be obedient to your will. I always will whatever happens."
Johans' Island, the news segment had informed us, had been a typical
Pacific volcanic island. Until '98 it was believed to be a French
dependency but, in that year, an examination of historical documents
showed that the French claim of sovereignty was invalid. Ordinarily this
minor fact would have been glossed over but the Chief Barmat, the
hereditary leader of the remaining native population had the benefit of a
combined honours degree in law and business studies from an English
redbrick university and he knew an opportunity when he saw one. He
approached Biotechniques, already a world player in bio-technology and
soon did a deal that gave him the resources to fight a case through the
international courts. Soon Johans Island was an independent monarchy
with its own constitution and it's own laws. Laws, It hardly needs to be
said, peculiarly liberal in the area of biological research.
When, in 2003 the Barmat research institute produced the first effective
anti-argathic the proportion of the resulting huge profits that went into t
he
island's coffers was a tribute to the king's negotiating abilities.
Barmat appears to be a complex and often devious man but rather
indifferent to the conventional trappings of wealth. With the wealth now
at his disposal he turned Johans Island into what is probably the most
technologically advanced community in the world today. He showed a knack
for attracting pilot projects. The island has the world's first 10
megawatt ocean thermal power station, for example, and the associated
aquaculture makes the island a net exporter of foodstuffs. And yet the
internal combustion engine is illegal and powered vehicles of any sort
are available only for the emergency services and industrial use.
Now all this would bring the applause of the majority of westerners,
perhaps modified only by envy. Yet the history of the Kingdom has been a
continual struggle for survival. Why? Because Barmat seems to have acquired
,
perhaps in his student days, some very unconventional ideas about what
should go into a constitution. Above all because Johans Island is now the
only country in the world where chattel slavery is recognised as a legal
institution.
Now in my own mind I am my lady's property and she may do with me
what she will. I willingly gave her that right three years before this
time. Yet, of course, the laws of this country do not recognise such a
bond and always, at the back of our minds, is the knowledge that if I
ever wished to take back that right then the law would be behind that
decision and only my honour would prevent it. On Johans Island it would
be very different. If we went their as mistress and slave the law of the
island would recognise that relationship. She could kill me there and
there would be no repercussions either there or when she returned. That
was both the attraction and the source of fear. The last element of
unreality would go out of the roles we play. This would happen too in a
place where bio-technology was on the leading edge and unrestrained by
either law or, apparently, much by ethics. A place where human beings, if
rumour was correct, were used as lab animals. Human beings but not
people. Human beings like me.
My lady did not mention the Island again to me until we were on our way.
Two months after our viewing the film she suddenly ordered me to hand in my
notice at work. Four weeks later I looked into her bedroom and saw her
packing her clothes. Disturbingly she cupboard where my modest store of
clothing was kept was still locked. I wondered if she were going to leave
me here. It always alarms me when she goes away and I have to fend for
myself. It's something I'm no longer used to.
Half and hour later she had me carry the suitcases downstairs. She
followed me and, much to my relief, I saw she had some clothing for me. A
pair of jeans and a thick sweatshirt. No underwear. She then produced the
key to my collar and had me kneel while she removed it, slipping it into
a side pocket on one of the large suitcases. That probably meant we were
going to fly because the collar causes such an embarrassing nuisance with
airport metal-detectors. She had me dress although I hated wearing
clothing around her. She never seems to look at me when I am dressed. I
wore clothing at work, of course, without a qualm but in her world it
seems unclean and the nakedness of my neck compounded my discomfort.
The way we act together in public often causes confusion and
embarrassment to third parties and I could see that the stewardess on the
first leg of the flight was taken aback at my refusal to eat until my
mistress had finished. On the second leg though, as we flew to the
Sachels when the same thing happened I'm sure the stewardess, after a
double take, knew just what was going on because she gave me that "poor
crazy" look that my collar often attracts in parts of the world where
such things are not so uncommon. My lady had not told me our destination
but even before I saw the destination of the second flight I could think
of only one place.
We took a taxi from the airport, mostly for the benefit of the three
suitcases I think. After telling the driver to take us to "pier four" she
took
out my collar and locked it onto my neck I saw the driver looking at this
little ceremony in the rear-view mirror with a knowing grin. As a result
he had a near miss with a bicycle and cursed in what sounded like Arabic.
Waiting at pier four was one of the most beautiful ships I have seen. A
large hydrofoil of the very latest design. There were no formalities. My la
dy
just waved the smart card with our travel documents over the sensor and we
walked through an electric gate onto the covered gangplank. At the other
end we were confronted by a large video screen which displayed a notice.
In six languages it said:
Important Notice
It is important that you study the laws of Johans Island before arrival.
Laws on the island differ extensively from what you may be used to.
Failure to be aware of these laws may cause you inconvenience of even
danger. In particular note that it is illegal for a slave of either
gender to wear clothing that obscures either genitals or anus. If you
are importing a slave you are required to see that this law is complied
with before docking. You should also note that it is a misdemeanour for
a slave to speak without being directly ordered to do so. Either of these
misdemeanours may result in a spot fine for the owner.
Having read this rather startling pronouncement we turned left into a
large cabin with seating. I noticed immediately that there were many obviou
s
slaves in here. Some naked. Some wearing various bondage paraphernalia,
many on leashes. "Take off your clothes." My lady ordered, "and put them
in the small case."
Despite the numbers of my own kind present it was disconcerting to
undress in so crowded and public a place but of course I obeyed. She then
found an empty seat and, sitting down had me curl up on the floor in
front of her. Each chair had a small screen and keyboard in one arm and
she began to use it, paying me absolutely no attention for the time being.
I have always found it difficult being around other submissives so I was
rather glad of the no talking rule. As I lay there trying to get comfortabl
e I
looked around and, between the legs of the seats, could see many slaves in
the same general position as myself. Most of them looked nervous or even
frightened and, I suspect, would have wanted to converse with one another
and me if it were allowed. After a brief scrutiny I decided to ignore
them. They were none of my business.
After about twenty minutes my mistress got up and told me to heel. I
obediently got up onto all fours and crawled after her on hands and
toes. We descended some stairs and went through a narrow door being met
suddenly by a pungent smell of excrement, evidently confined to the
corridor beyond by clever ventilation. The corridor had cages on both
sides and was dark until we entered at which point some sensor switched
on red lights. The cages were various shapes. The first few were full
height those on the left being about six feet deep, on the right perhaps
only two feet. Further on there were two rows, one above the other. I saw
that there was a simple mechanism of the doors with a key and a money
slot. My lady opened one of the bottom cages and told me to back in. Then
she closed the gate and I heard her work the mechanism. Great! I was left
luggage. I found myself in a narrow box about three foot square by six deep
.
There was sawdust on the floor with a few dry turds in it. Projecting
from the right side near the door was a large rubber teat like a penis
complete with a small hole. "I'm going to get myself something to eat."
My mistress told me. "I'll fetch you something later." She walked away
without a backward glance, putting the key in her bag and as the door
closed behind her total darkness descended.
Once I got accustomed to the stench (didn't they clean these cages out
between trips? I visualised skeletons of forgotten passengers lying
unnoticed in cages at the back) I was actually more comfortable in the
cage that I had been lying on the lounge carpet. Here I felt free to
fidget to my heart's content. I've always liked being caged or chained up
anyway. It takes away a whole galaxy of temptations and responsibilities.
I soon fell into the pleasant thoughtless mental state I usually achieve
under such circumstances. I believe that I become mentally more like an
animal than a human in this state. I've always envied animals what I
imagine is their habitual inner silence. We pay I high price, I often
think, for the admittedly great benefits of a verbal mind.
My lady returned some indeterminable time later. She fed me a packet of
some kind of sharp tasting snack pushing the flakes between the bars were I
would take them with my mouth. We made a game of it and she laughed but she
didn't stay long, put off perhaps by the outhouse stench of the place.
After she left I sucked water from the teat and lay back down, fairly
content. For a while my head was full of worries about what lay ahead but
I finally managed to put them aside. I think I slept then for some hours
waking only briefly to piss in the straw.
I think it was the commotion of owners come to collect their property th
at
finally woke me properly. I heard a girl greet her master and the sound of
a
blow as he reminded her that talking was forbidden. I waited eagerly for my
own mistress to come. She was last, I think. That's her way in such
things. Why hurry only to queue further along the line? She opened the
door and as I stuck my head out grinning she snapped a leash onto my
collar. "Wouldn't want us to get separated in the crush." She said,
tugging me out.
Initially I tried to heel properly at her side on all fours but as we we
nt
up on deck it became impractical in the crowd and she ordered me to stand
upright. The people, the ones with clothes, tried to avoid contact with my
somewhat dirty self as a result of which I was physically more comfortable
than most of them were. As we emerged into the open the bright sun struck m
y
naked body and I thought, for the first time, about the problem of
sunburn and perhaps sunstroke. I had never been particularly well adapted
to outdoor nudity.
We descended the gangplank among the last to do so with her luggage on
a trolley. Inside the terminal we headed immediately for a channel marked
"Slaves and Owners." We entered a side booth and an officious looking
woman told my lady to have me kneel and read some words from a small
notice aloud. I read:
I acknowledge myself an animal with no human rights and the proper
property of [state your owner's full name here.
To say these words aloud gave me great satisfaction as well, I may
say, as a hard-on. When I had spoken the woman produced a plastic gun with
an
alarmingly thick needle projecting from it together with a small sterile
package and another device with a loop sticking out of it. She walked
behind me and I resolutely kept my eyes on my mistress. There was a cold
wet feel on my left buttock and I braced myself. The needle hurt like
blazes but it was only there for a moment and I managed to keep silent.
The official spoke to my lady and gave her a form to sign. "All animals
on the island over five kilograms in weight are required to be tagged and
registered with the international animals registry. The transponder
contains a permanent official identification code. It is illegal to
remove it while you are on the island. When you sign this you take
responsibility for your animal. If you sell it the onus is on you to see
to it that the new owner registers their ownership officially or you
remain responsible. If it dies that too must be notified. We recomend you
keep its entry up to date even if the change of status occurs outside
our teritory, that way if your animal is brought back here everything
will be up to date. Should you leave and return then the transponder will
be detected in the lobby and you will be passed through without
formalities. Once a human has formally renounced his or her personhood as
your slave just did it can never again be considered a person under our
laws. Enjoy your stay."
A moment later we were out in the late morning sunshine. I felt curiousl
y
elated, despite the ache in my buttock. Here, at last, we could walk in the
open with the nature of our relationship plain for all to see and there
would be no confused or pitying looks. No explanations. I laughed aloud
with delight, hoping that this was not illegal. Although she told me to
hush she too was smiling broadly. I think we both felt as if we had come
home.
On the island people walk for the most part but there are always people
with heavy luggage at the port and we were quickly approached by a small
cart pulled by a rather overweight donkey in a straw hat. I put the
suitcases in the back and walked alongside as the driver nudged his beast
into motion. My lady had taken the leash off since it was too short to be
conveniently used under these circumstances. It was not far, nowhere on
the island is very far really and the ground, mostly mud and grass, was
forgiving to my bare feet.
The hotel was a little surprising. I'd been expecting the kind of
stateless concrete block that spring up at tourist centres like pallid
fungi in the night but, except for the lack of cars, this was more like
a rustic American motel with low wooden buildings and individual cabins.
In front of each cabin was a large wooden kennel of the classic sort. As
we entered I saw two that were occupied by slaves and one by a large dog,
in each case tethered by a chromed chain. Obviously the hotels around here
would all have the "Pets Welcome" sign out. I wondered if the kennels
would get too uncomfortably hot in the sun.
My lady checked in while I fraternised with the donkey whom I found to
be true to type, grudging of any display of positive emotion though he
seemed very well cared for. I generally get on well with animals, perhaps
because I have little of the conviction of innate superiority normal in
humans. When she emerged with the key card we soon found her cabin. When
she entered I thought about it and decided I shouldn't enter without
orders because I was too dirty so I sat on the doorstep and whined to
attract her attention. She noticed after a moment and looked at me for a
moment. "You are right. You are in no fit state for a civilised room.
Get into the kennel and we'll clean you up later."
As I scrambled to comply she came back outside and examined the tether.
One end was welded to a ring set in the ground on the other was a small
padlock which responded to the key card. There was about eight feet of
chain but she chose to lock it to my collar about half way along. It
wasn't that she thought I would run away or anything like that. She just
knows what I like. She filled a water bowl from me from a tap on the side
of the building. For someone used to lying on flat surfaces the kennel,
whose floor was covered in clean sawdust, was quite comfortable and it
was good to get out of the sun. Already I could feel the first skin
tightness that heralded sunburn. I hoped my lady would notice or think of
it soon. Sometimes she would order me to tell her of the things that were
on my mind. Perhaps she would do that in the evening.
Some time passed. I suppose she settled in, unpacked and showered
because when she emerged holding my leash, there was a clean smell and a
floral scent to her. But when I emerged from the kennel at her call she
was suddenly dismayed. "Oh, poor pet. You're quite pink. I'm sorry. I
should have thought of that. Stay out of the sunlight and I'll find
something for you." Leaving me tethered she walked of rapidly towards the
entrance. I sighed with relief and crawled back into the welcome cool.
The way my skin was feeling a long exploration of the town in the
afternoon sun would have been disastrous.
I can't measure time under such circumstances but it seemed to be
quite a long wait. Part of the time I dozed, still jet lagged.
Occasionally there was interesting activity in the courtyard. At one
point there were the unmistakable sounds of one of my fellows being
beaten making me wince in the sympathy of one who has earned a beating or
two himself. Eventually the light of my life returned with a paper bag in
one hand and a small box in the other which she was reading from. When
she reached me she put the box back in the bag and unlocking my tether
put me on the leash. We went to the main building where there was an
outside tap with a hose. She tied the leash to a pipe and proceeded to
give me a thorough wash, the cold was instant balm to my hot skin.
Although I soon started to shiver I wriggled in the stream, thoroughly
enjoying my wash.
Now for the first time she allowed me into her room, a nice enough if
compact bedroom. She took a tightly folded sheet of some mat plastic from
the bad and spread it on the bed and patted it to indicate I should lie
there. Next she took a large red capsule from the box and put it into my
mouth, giving me a gulp of water to swallow it with. The next things to
emerge from the mysterious box were some film gloves and a tube of cream.
I expected this cream to soothe my skin but when she started to apply it
it stung like fire so that I could barely choke back a cry. I fought an
instinctive urge to get away from the hellish stuff and accepted her
ministrations. I didn't know if she realised that the stuff hurt but it
was not my place to tell her. After a moment I was startled to see that
it was leaving a blue stain on my skin. I have faith. She often hurts me
but she has never truly harmed me.
The initial burning sensation did not last long, thank God, though when
she did my testicles a whimper escaped me. She was careful to cover
almost my whole body excepting parts of my face and the balls of my feet.
The blue effect was extremely startling, rather as I believe woad must
have looked. Eventually she took off the gloves, being very careful not
to get the suff on her own skin, and flushed them down the toilet. She
then stood back and watched as the blue colour slowly faded, which took
perhaps twenty minutes. Then she reaching into the bag again and produced
a second tube, this one of ordinary sun lotion which she applied almost
as thoroughly though with less care. This operation was bliss and it took
away the last of the stinging.
"There." She said. "The sunblock solves the problem in the short term.
The other should solve it in the long term. Now we can go walkies."
I went on all fours at first. In the past most of my walking on the leas
h
has been done indoors at home and occasionally at parties and it has always
seemed appropriate. Here though we were going farther than I ever had on
hands and toes and, despite my practice, it soon became painful and then
unsustainable. My lady saw that I could not keep it up and told me to stand
up which I did to the protest of my leg muscles. It was a fairly short
excursion. I think that she too was more than a little jet-lagged. As we
returned to the hotel she said. "Isn't it great to be able to do that
and not even get funny looks, let alone arrested?" I agreed
wholeheartedly. Despite the pain I had enjoyed our walk.
She put me back in my kennel and said she was going to stretch out on th
e
bed for a while. Some time later she went out past me without speaking to
me, presumably in search of dinner. When she came back she gave me some
scraps and then filled a bowl with some kind of pelleted pet food which
was bland but not too bad. She also gave me another of those red
capsules. Though she didn't stay to watch I ate, as usual, without using
my hands. Afterwards I thought I should settle down for the night but a
while later she came out and fetched me into the cabin. There she made
love to me. You want details? Use your imagination. I'm here to bare my
murky soul to your gaze, not hers. About and hour later she put me back
in the kennel before finally turning in. She makes love to me fairly
often but I never get to sleep with her. She is right in that. It would be
blasphemy for me to see her vulnerable in sleep.
I woke myself, scratching before the sun was up. I itched all over so th
at I
began to wonder if I had fleas (it wouldn't have been the first time). My
skin seemed strangely slick. Then I remembered yesterday's sunburn and was
less worried, though no less uncomfortable. As dawn approached the itching
mounted to an intolerable crescendo then gradually receded. In the first
light of dawn I examined my skin and did an authentic double take. Then I
felt the parts I cannot see without a mirror. Suddenly I burst out into
laughter, hastily stifled as I remembered my lady would still be asleep.
Here was the long term solution to my sensitive skin all right. I was
covered in soft tawny fur, still short but dense enough to promise
complete protection.
When my lady appeared much later I stroked my arm and tried to put into
my expression the thanks I was forbidden to put into words. She unlocked th
e
tether and gestured to the open door. "There's a big mirror in the
bathroom." She mentioned. I was in there like a shot.
She came up behind me as I was admiring the effect. The fur was not one
colour but shaded from a dark brown on my spine to a lighter fawn on my
chest. I felt it looked best when I was on all fours. Unexpectedly she
stroked me, running her hand down the length of my spine. It was an
entirely new and delightful sensation and it made me arch my back to get
the best contact. Even my penis was covered in short fur. I hoped that it
would bring her extra pleasure next time we made love.
"I understand that in this climate it will grow to be about an inch." S
he
told me. "It's length will change gradually to suit the temperature you ar
e
living in. The effect can be reversed but I don't think I'll ever want to d
o
that. Do you like it?"
"I love it. Thank you my lady. It's a wonderful surprise."
"I'm very pleased with it too. I wasn't sure how it was going to look b
ut
I like the way it came out. It makes you even more completely my pet. I
wonder what else they can do here in that way. Perhaps they can give you
a tail. What do you think about that?"
"I doubt if that's possible, mistress, I don't see how they could get a
nerve supply. Having been born without a tail I won't have the necessary
circuits in my brain." I hestitated a moment over the other aspect of the
question, if it were possible how would I feel about having one. "If it we
re
possible it seems to me that it would make me of less practical use to you
because it would be hard for me to get a job like that. That would sadden
me. I like you to have all the things you want. But if would please you
to see me with a tail more than you would miss those things then it
pleases me. Perhaps you could get the money back somehow exhibiting me at
a carnival or something. I think I might like that. To have people pay to
see me in a cage."
"I don't think I'd like that. That would be like sharing you with
strangers. It doesn't matter. I make a good living myself and I have lots o
f
savings. You're my pet and I love you. I don't keep you for practical
purposes."
What could I say to that? I turned and licked her hand and she stroked m
e
again. Things developed rapidly from there. My speculations about the
effects of furry penises were resolved favourably although there was as muc
h
giggling as gasping.
After a time we got up and went into town, me back on the leash but this
time not attempting all-fours. The town was a curious mixture of the very
mundane and the extraordinary. There were perfectly normal shops. Clothing.
Groceries. Small cafes alongside brothels. There was a drug shop
advertising a special price on heroin alongside the toothpastes. Looking
at the adds, the books and so on there was none of that specialness
which, in our own society, separates "sexual" from "normal" matters.
We came to a small cafe in front of which a labrador was tied up to a ri
ng
in the wall. My mistress tethered me to the same ring and went inside for
breakfast. I sat with my back to the wall trying not to obstruct the paveme
nt.
The dog sniffed me but would have none of my stroking. Obviously a class
conscious beast who would accept affection only from his betters.
So I sat and watched the passers by, none of whom gave me a second
glance despite my hirsuit state. I soon saw why as several creatures
wierder by far than me went past, generally with their owners. One
arrived that shook me to the core. She had, I think, been a beautiful
woman. Now she was a truely beautiful animal. She walked as a true
quadruped and possesed a pronounced snout. I could see her paws were
rather like those of a lion. They were quite broad and furry although she
had nails like a dog. They were definitely paws. Hands, however hairy,
could never have moved like that. Her chest too was of the deep shape
typical of quadrupeds rather than the broad flat affair of humans.
Despite the snout her facial expressions were remarkably human and
readable, rather like those of a cartoon animal but far more refined.
She was covered in black fur except for a broad white streak down the
spine. She did not, I noticed with some trace of muted of satisfaction,
have a tail.
Walking neatly to her master's heel she looked about her with lively
curiousity and the changable expression on her face was generally serene
and sometimes amused. He held her loosly on a cromed chain attatched to a
broad jewelled collar that glittered against her black fur. She walked
with all the unconcious grace of a cat, her head held high at what should
have been an impossible angle to her trunk. They passed quite close to
where I sat, frozen in shock, and she looked me full in the face and
winked. Her unashamedly mamalian scent reached my nostrils for a moment.
I wanted to talk to her. I wanted to run a mile. I wanted to stroke her.
I wanted to look away. I could do none of these things.
The encounter left me stupified by its implications. The posibility of
what had happened to her being done to me filled my mind. It was at once
terifying and infinitely seductive. And my mistress had not seen her! I
was torn between a desperate hope that she would never become aware of
such possibilities and the desire to rush into the cafe. To call her out
to see. To beg her to find for me the artist that had given that creature
her second birth. I actualy felt myself start to move and perhaps only
the swing of the leash which tethered me woke me to my own brand of
sanity. To do that would be deliberate disobedience. To untie the tether
she had tied was unthinkable.
I determined to put the internal debate asside. Such decisions were not
for me but for her, thank God. I would tell her about the woman creature
if she asked. I would become such a creature myself if she wished it. I wou
ld
neither plead nor resist. I try to live in the present like an animal. I
guess that is the main point of the life I chose. I fought now to let the
present take me back. But it's hold was weak because I was haunted two
ways. From the past by the sight and scent of the woman creature which
seemed to have burned its way indelibly into my mind and from the future
by the possibility of such transformation. I closed my eyes and sought to
focus the whole of my consciousness on the breath moving in and out of my
nostrils.
A few moments later a man emerged from the cafe and collected the
labrador. To my suprise as he stooped to untie the dog's leash he stroked
me once. I didn't know how to react to this but his attention was only
momentary. I had a flash of irritation but on reflection the man's action
had been kindly meant, not consciously condescending. He had stroked me
in exactly the same spirit in which I had tried to stroke the labrador; a
momentary, meaningless exchange of sensual pleasure. That kind of thing
never really happened at home. Oh, when we went to parties and events
within the "scene" someone might pat me or pull on my collar but always
as a self-conscious challenge; generally with their eyes on my mistress
to see how she would react. In the future I would try to accept such
actions in the spirit they were offered. I have no right to react
defensively to unsolicited handling by strange people unless they go
against my owner's interests.
The meditation and the minor suprise had centred me when my mistress
reappeared but, although she said nothing, she looked at me sharply. She is
always sensitive to my mood and I think she knew something had disturbed
me. She had brough me a little treat; a section of a waffle with maple
syrup on it and she dropped it in front of me before bending to untie my
leash. As I worked it into my mouth I thought of the woman creature's
snout. How much easier it would be to eat from bowl or floor with such a
snout.
When people find out about the abnormal parts of my lifestyle they often
ask if eating scraps of the ground or the floor like this doesn't cause
stomach problems. Actually I've had far less problems with my stomach since
becoming a pet than in my feral days. Modern pets get a regular and
balanced diet, far better than most people would chose for themselves. As
to germs well, I get my shots and regular exposure to low levels of
bacteria keeps my immune system in good shape. Too much hygene can weaken
your defences. As to why I pounce so gleafully on such scraps, even
though I'm not allowed to use my hands for eating, the truth is I only
get one real meal a day and I'm almost always at least slightly hungry.
Most western people literally don't know what hunger is these days.
That's why there are so many cases of eating disorders. For me hunger is
a familiar companion which is as it should be. It helps ground me in
the present.
We spent almost an hour going arround a shop with the most complete
collection of bondage and sado-masochist equipment I have ever
encountered. At home such stores are our delight but I was still rather
distracted and my lady too seemed to find it hard to get interested
although a selection of shock collars with various kinds of triggers had
her attention for a while. We left rather suddenly and we went briefly
back to the hotel to pick up a towel and her swimming costume and then
down to the beach where we spent most of what remained of the morning
larking about in the water. She invented a game where she'd throw a stick
into the breakers for me to fetch. Of course I was expected to take it
with my mouth only and got several duckings. Eventually we where both
fairly exhausted and she decided on more sedatory activity. She made me
roll in a small freshwater stream which ran down the beach to get the
salt out of my fur before it dried and she spread out a blanket for
sunbathing. I found that sunbathing is not really for the fur covered but
I settled down at her feet and drowsed. The warm sun was a powerful
soporific.
It was probably a little after noon when I was roused by the the sounds
of
galloping paws and rymic breathing. I looked up expecting some large dog
to see my four legged aquaintance of that morning in full flight. She
flew in front of me in an extended gallop which she made look effortless
though every muscle in her body must have been involved. A little further
along she spun to a stop and I saw a small black object fall to meet her.
She caught the ball on the first bounce. Her athleticism was awesome. She
made my own efforts at four legged motion look like those of a beached
walrus. A moment later she was in flight again. This time heading
straight for me. Before I could get up off my side she had jumped cleanly
over me and was heading back to her master making two sides of a shallow
triangle. I heard my mistress make a startled protest.
The girl creature reached her master and did a sit-up-and-beg offering h
im
the ball. But he was not pleased and flicked her accross the snout with the
back of three fingers so the ball fell to the ground. "Bad girl. You got
sand on the lady's towel showing off like that." She put on an immediate
display of contrition. Picking up the ball and walking round behind him
to his left where she stood at heel with her head lowered. Not though, it
seemed to me, without a furtive gleam remaining in her lowered eyes.
For the first time I was able to take a good look at the owner of this
remarkable pet as he approached us. He was a small man, basically
caucasian with a hint of the oriental. He had a bushy grey beard and
appeared to be in his late middle age. He had a friendly smile for my
mistress, no more than a glance for me.
"Madame, I appologise for the exhuberance of my pet. Her contrition wil
l
be more genuine when she learns that she is going to spend the rest of our
walk at heel."
My lady was sitting up now, one arm arround her raised knees. "No harm
done. What a fine looking animal. May I handle her?"
The man agreed casually and my lady snapped her fingers for the creature
to approach. Her handling was partly caressing, partly an anatomical
examination.
"May I ask where this work was done? It's not just idle curiosity." She
gestured in my direction, producing an instant sinking fealing.
"The Selman Institute. A small company about half a mile out along the
greenway. You may have heard of Dr. Selman and his reconstructive work.
I don't know how he'd feel about doing this kind of work for a visitor
though. There might be legal complications. Don't let him charge you too
much though, I think he'd have done this job for free, for the interest
of it."
"Thank you, I shall certainly give him a call. Who knows?"
My lady now released the creature which, with a backwards glance at her
master came over to me. I held still as she licked my face. I wanted to str
oke
her but using my hands didn't seem proper or fair somehow and I didn't
have permission to speak (I wondered if she was capable of it). I nuzzled
her cheek and she broke my rather reverential mood by nipping my ear.
Imagining what we must look like I got into the mood and attempted to
sniff her rear. She swayed sideways nudging my side in a friendly way.
And we cicled like a pair of dogs for a moment. I liked the way she smelt
and buried my nose for a moment in the fur of her flank.
My lady laughed and after a moment the man chuckled too. "I think he's
a prime candidate for conversion." He said. "It should make him less
clumsy, at least. I should think first, though, about the legal problems
you are likely to have at home. By the way my name is Mark Thackery. You
can tell Dr. Selman I recomended you. Come on girl. Heel."
They left, the animal walking demurely at heel and we watched them go in
silence for a while. "Was it something like that that shook you up this
morning?" She asked me at last. I nodded. "How do you feel about it?"
I thought about an answer for a moment. "Glad that the decision is your
s
mistress, if it were mine I would not know how to choose."
She looked at me carefully for a moment, perhaps weighing my response.
"Well, we can at least explore the possibilities."
Dr. Selmar agreed to see us at five o'clock. He let us in to the buildin
g
himself and we went straight into a small lab where I was made to assume
various possitions inside a camera array, allowing the computers to build
up a three dimensional picture of my shape.
The Dr. was a tall, gangling black with a thin face and a west coast
accent. As he worked the array he said to my mistress. "I've thought
long and hard about this and how any publicity will affect me. I've
decided the net benefit will be for the good. I imagine if the world
learns of my little hobby projects it will think me a monster but, and
this is the point, it will think me a highly competent monster. So I've
decided to offer to do this for you at cost. Let's go into my office and
discuss the possibilities and then you can decide."
"I don't want him present while we have our talk. I try not to burden h
im
with the future."
The doctor nodded and led us from the lab into another room which
smelled of rodents. There were many cages of different sizes most of them
containing laboratory mice, rats and rabbits but some larger and a couple
large enough for me. "He seems frightened." Said the doctor "I could
administer a sedative. If you like he could sleep until it's all over one
way or the other."
"No. I'm not one of those people who believes in 91better living thoug
h
chemistry92. Of course he's affraid. We're all afraid of change but he's
entitled to the full experience including, if possible, the actual
operation. I think you might be surprised how tough he is mentally."
The doctor shrugged and they shut me in one of the primate cages, turned
down the lights and left.
Left to my own devices the first thing I did was to check the the cage w
as
secure. Don't misunderstand: If it hadn't been I would not have left it
anyway but I always settle more comfortably once I have proved to myself
that escape is not an option. I found I was shivering slightly with shear
physical fear so I began to meditate. It's a simple enough trick but it
works for me. If you can focus your awareness on the fear itself, instead
of the thing you are afraid of the fear fades. Come on: Be an animal. The
smells of straw and rodents are real. The feel of the breath through your
nostrils is real. The throb of blood in your ears is real. The future is
just fantasy. It's a kind of mental judo. A force does harm only if
resisted. But if this was judo I was in the fight of my life. Again and
again the future would grab me by the neck and shake me, my heart would
race and I would find myself curling up into a defensive ball, mentally.
TO BE CONTINUED
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
To find out more about the anon service, send mail to [email protected].
Due to the double-blind, any mail replies to this message will be anonymized,
and an anonymous id will be allocated automatically. You have been warned.
Please report any problems, inappropriate use etc. to [email protected].
X--------------------------------------X
|
|
