Woof! (Or, The Life of a Slutty Puppy)

So! When I wrote my last entry, How I Became a Locked Up Slut, I mentioned a few ~bonus~ things I picked up while ordering my chastity device. On a whim, I asked my Mistress if there was anything else she wanted me to pick up while I was ordering things – anything else she’d ever wished I had, so she could use it to play with me. Well! What if I told you those things… were puppy-related?!

[audience gasps, frantic whispering; somewhere, a man faints out of shock]

I will say, this won’t be as much of a personal history lesson as Locked Up Slut was – mostly because this has been a much slower burn than chastity, and a lot of the receipts are simply lost to time. But enough about that – let’s get to the good stuff!


Now, if you’re at all familiar with Mistress Charlotte’s hypnosis library, the starting point won’t really come as a surprise.

(Side note: if you AREN’T familiar, then you might want to change that. She even has a huge selection of FREE files! You owe it to yourself to check her out. [/plug])

It is, of course, the classic Slutty Puppy. One of the first files I ever listened to from Mistress, all those years ago before I was owned, before I even knew I liked being called a slut! It still remains to this day one of my all-time favourites. A beautiful combination of being, well, incredibly hot, but also so sweetly degrading – literally dehumanising me, yes, but into a cute little puppy! Everyone loves puppies! Who cares if I can’t use my hands, if my brain’s being so thoroughly infused with lust that I’m resorting to friction to get myself off – I can’t help it, what else is a slutty little puppy meant to do?

So, clearly that’s always been good to me. And for a while, that was all there really was to it – I’d listen to it and briefly be a little puppy slut, and then back to normal. And then I went and started chatting with a certain Mistress. Now, neither of us really had any grand designs on making me into a puppy to begin with (at least, I think…) – I was too busy trying not to freak out about being owned, and she seemed more than happy with me as a slave and a slut.


But one day, I was on a trip out of town, and I happened to notice the (much bigger) city I was staying in had an adult store not far from where I was staying. Out of interest, I asked Mistress if there was anything she’d like me to get – the more things change, the more they stay the same…

From memory, she came up with two items – a dildo, and a collar. The dildo was easy enough (I mean, come on, it’s a sex store) – the collar, not so much. After a few minutes browsing the shelves with no luck, I summed up a shred of courage and went to ask the guy on the register if they had any. He said that unfortunately they didn’t (despair!), but he had a solution.

Just go to a pet store, and get one from there.

It makes sense, right? I mean, for the most part, a collar is a collar – as long as it goes around your neck and it’s got some manner of fastener, they’re all pretty much the same. But the idea that this was not just the classic BDSM symbol of ownership, but something more – a literal dog collar, perfect for a slutty puppy – it was… exciting. Mistress Charlotte thought it was hilarious, naturally – it was just too fitting! But it’s also still the collar I wear to this day, and honestly I’ve come to care for it quite a bit. A lot of great memories were made in that collar!


Like I said earlier, though – slow burn. I was (and still am (I think?)) more of a slave and a slut than a puppy, but this had certainly opened some doors. The occasional comment about being a horny dog, casually calling me a puppy… You know, baby steps. The collar would always be on whenever we were doing something fun, but in an ownership way, not specifically a puppy thing – not that that stopped me from remembering it was a straight-up dog collar, mind.

The biggest step since then, I think, would have been not long after I moved house. I was staying with my family in a rental while we looked for something more permanent, and the room I ended up with was… small, to say the least. I’m a taller guy, so it felt particularly cramped – and when I mentioned that to my dear Mistress, she reminded me that it could be worse – I could be in a dog crate.

Which, y’know, true.


But then she continued on and gave me a task, to play off the theming – get into my crate-like room, put on my literal puppy collar, and listen to Slutty Puppy. The task gave her an idea, though:

Mistress Charlotte, showing why she’s the wise one here

At the time, I’d assumed that was just an idle thought – a hot one, to be sure, but nothing more. However, only a few days later – inspiration had clearly struck, because I had a new task. Make my way to a pet store, and have a custom tag made for myself. In person. My name on the front, my owner’s on the back – complete with contact details (her Niteflirt line) if I got lost. It was a thrilling idea – equal parts exhilarating and just generally hot. I was dreading being asked, uh, anything about this dog I didn’t have – but luckily, Mistress Charlotte once again stepped up and provided the answer. Isn’t she lovely?

Mistress of Puns strikes again.

In the end, the whole thing was rather painless, if you ignore the fact that my heart was threatening to beat out of my chest. I wish I’d had a card with my first name on it – I can only imagine their face when they saw I just happened to have the same name as my dog, wow, what a coincidence! Sadly they didn’t have much in the way of nice colours or fun shapes – I wouldn’t have minded a loveheart, although I think a dog bone might have been a step too far. And in the end…

Well and truly owned.

Anyway! I told you all that, so I could tell you this. Things sped up a little from there – “puppy” came up as a name more and more often. I found a man-sized dog bowl I’d been gifted several Christmases ago (completely unrelated, I swear) and showed it off to her as a joke – she had me lapping up… well, let’s just say it wasn’t water. This all culminated, though, in the chastity order. Just to recap:

It’s only unwise when both parties don’t find the end result hot.

Mistress Charlotte informed me that she’d pictured me in a puppy mask (swoon) more than once (SWOON), and I was happy to oblige. I rounded up a few options from the site I was on, and…

I do, more than anything.

Now, you might think that buying a BDSM puppy hood and tail would be a pretty clear sign that you’re into it, right? And I’ve certainly enjoyed my time as a puppy, all the way from my first listen of Slutty Puppy to now. But what really cemented it for me, was the response Mistress gave me after I showed off my newly acquired puppy gear for her…

Wait – you’re telling me *I’M* the good boy?!

Now, I don’t mind telling you – not to brag – I’ve been called “good boy” more than a few times. It’s always lovely, of course, always special, but… This felt different. I legitimately got a little excited – I could feel the tail in my heart wagging away. That’s when I knew I was hooked – still a slave, and a slut, and my Mistress’s conscious object… But I knew then that I could very safely add “puppy” to that list.

And it’s basically just been going on since then! I’ve barked, I’ve whined, I’ve done the most adorable little puppy headtilt for her… Bought myself a leash she can’t use, just for the purpose of showing it off in photos. Wagged my tail like my little whore life depended on it. Lapped up water from a bowl on the floor for a day, like the slutty pup I am.


It’s… a new angle of powerlessness, if you like.

Not a slave giving up control to someone more powerful and deserving. (Although it’s still very hot)

Not a slut losing control to overwhelming lust, mindless need, the all-consuming desire to get FUCKED (al… although…).

Not an object to be used, with no say in how, or when, or really anything at all (…).

But a little puppy. Excitable, obedient, a bit dumb sometimes, but ultimately cute and- what? Well, of course he doesn’t have control, what a ridiculous thing to say! He’s just a puppy! That’s it, good boy!


Woof!

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