“Go for training?  What do you mean training, Mildred?”

       “It’s supposed to make you a better husband, Jerry,” Mildred said.

       “What you mean a better husband?” I asked.  “I thought you liked me the way I am.”

       “I do, honey, but I just think that you could be...”

       “Be what?”

       “I don’t know. Two of my new club friends tell me that this woman has done wonders for their husbands. I just thought we should try it,” she pleaded.

       “Have you met any of the husbands?” I asked.

       “Yes.”

       “And?”

       “I was very impressed by how... attentive and... obedient they are,” she said.

       “Obedient? What do you mean, obedient?” I asked.

       “Oh... I just mean that... that they are better husbands,” she said.

       “Better husbands? Don’t you think I’m a good husband?” I asked.

       “Jerry, please just go with me and talk to her,” she begged.

       I didn’t like it but what could it hurt? I grumbled about it but when she got up to go I followed her to the car.

***

       An hour later we pulled in the driveway of a little ranch house in the suburbs. As we got out of the car the door opened and a very nice looking woman greeted us.

       “Mildred, I see you found me okay,” the woman said warmly.

       “Your directions were super, Samantha,” my wife said.

       “And this must be Jerry,” Samantha said, smiling at me. “I’m glad you came, Jerry.”

       I mumbled hello and shook her hand. I was still confused as to why my wife brought me here. I thought we had a good marriage and I couldn’t imagine what kind of training I needed.

       In the living room or Mildred and I sat on the couch while Samantha went into the kitchen to fix drinks. She returned carrying a tray with three tall frosty drinks.  She handed me one, handed Mildred one and then sat on the love seat opposite us with hers.  I took a big slug.  It went down so well I took another.

       “Has Mildred explained my program?” Samantha asked.

       “No, not really. Just in general terms,” I answered. “What is it you do?”

       “Well, basically I make husbands into much more…desirable partners,” she laughed.

       “I don’t get it,” I said, testily, taking another sip.

       “Of course you don’t,” she chuckled, “that’s because you’re a man.”

       “Huh?”

       “Haven’t you two been fighting a lot lately?” she asked, changing the subject.

       “All couples fight.”

       “Really?  So you think that’s normal?” she smiled.

       “I guess.”

       “And do you also think is normal to treat her like shit?” she asked.

       “What are you talking about?”

       “I’m talking about how dissatisfied your wife is with the state of your marriage,” she said.

       “Look, Samantha, I don’t know what she’s told you but I wouldn’t have come here if I’ve thought I was going to be abused like this,” I said angrily, finishing my drink.  “Why don’t you just tell me what your fucking program is so we can get out of here?”

       “It’s simple, Jerry, I turn pieces of shit like you into obedient pets,” she said sweetly.

       “Pets? Are you on something?” I asked.

       “No, but you are,” she chuckled.

       “I’m on something?” I thought.  “This woman is seriously deranged.”

       “Mildred,” I said, standing up, “we’re out of here.”

       Neither my wife nor Samantha got up. I tried to walk to the door but my body wouldn’t move. I felt as if I’d been drugged.

       “Go out into the garage, Jerry. Take off all your clothes, throw them in the garbage and crawl back in here to us,” Samantha said softly.

       I wanted to protest but found myself turning and walking to the garage. Once there I stripped off all of my clothing, threw it in the dumpster, lowered myself to my hands and knees and crawled back to where they were sitting.

       “Good boy,” Samantha purred, stroking my head.

       I whimpered and tried to back away but my body wouldn’t obey me.  I watched in horror as she locked a collar around my neck and forced strange fingerless mitts on my hands, locking them on.

       “Get up on the table, boy,” she whispered.

       I climbed onto the coffee table and shivered in fright as she locked a harness on my wrists and ankles that clearly would not allow me to stand.  Finally I felt her putting something on my penis and the click of another lock.

       “You can get down now, boy,” she said.

       I climbed down and waited.  I had no idea why I couldn’t move.  I didn’t like the direction my life was going and I didn’t have a clue how to stop it.  I tried to break the spell but I couldn’t.  Something in the drink she gave me must have paralyzed me.  Samantha got up from the couch and looked down at me.

       “I want you to follow me whenever I give the command:  Heel!” she said.  “You are to stay on my left side and keep your eyes trained on my left ass cheek.  Do you understand?”

       Not really.  My brain was having trouble comprehending my situation and what she meant. I looked at her but didn’t say anything. She smiled, turned and looked back at me.

       “Heel!” she said, walking across the room.

       It was like someone had taken over my body. I followed her as if my eyes were connected to her ass by a rigid but invisible beam. She walked around the room twice, stopping and turning and backing up just to demonstrate that I was joined to her like a Siamese twin.

       “I think we have a good start, Mildred,” Samantha laughed.  “Of course I’ll have to use the cattle prod and a few other things when the drug wears off.”

       “When will he be ready?”

       “How ready are we talking about?” Samantha asked.

       “I want him to be like Janice’s husband,” my wife said.

       “Oh, my!” Samantha said, shaking her head.  “Every independent thought has been ruthlessly beaten out of him. He is…truly an animal.”

       “Yes,” my wife said forcefully, “that’s what I want!”

       “Are you sure?”

       “Yes, god damn it,” she growled.  “I want him to grovel.”

       “Not a problem, Mildred,” she said, “it just takes longer.”

       “How long?” my wife said impatiently.

       “Why don’t you come back in six weeks?” Samantha suggested.

       “Six weeks?”

       “Mildred, what’s the big deal anyway?  What’s wrong with six weeks?”

       “My new friends are having a party on the 20^th of next month and I wanted to show him off,” my wife explained.

       “Oh,” Samantha giggled.  “Don’t worry, that might be really good for his training.  You can borrow him for the night and if you return him with a ‘bad’ report I can use it to…intensify his program.”

       I was listening to this exchange with growing concern.  Up until now I had been in a blind obedient stupor but as the drug wore off I found I could move.  I looked around for a way out.

       “Uh oh,” Samantha said, “the drugs are wearing off.  I’m going to have to pay attention to your pet.  Can you see yourself out?”

       “Sure, but I’ve got to have him for my party, okay?” my wife asked.

       “Don’t worry, Mildred, he’ll be pretty obedient by then,” Samantha laughed.

       I didn’t know what else to do so, as my wife got to the door and opened it, I made a dash for freedom, well more like a crawl for freedom.  I got just across the threshold before a stinging bolt of lightning hit my right ass cheek and paralyzed me.  As soon as my muscles stopped twitching I rolled over and looked up.  Samantha was standing over me with an evil smile on her face and a cattle prod in her hand.

       “Bad doggy,” she scolded.

       I ignored her and tried to skooch myself out the door.  She chuckled, put the cattle prod to my crotch and zapped me again.  I screamed and grabbed my balls, thinking they had been fried off.

       “Back inside, doggie,” she said pleasantly.

       “F…fuck…you,” I choked out.

       She put the prod to my neck and pulled the trigger again.  My hands went from my balls to my neck.

       “That’s another thing,” she said.  “Doggies don’t talk.  They bark or make other appropriate doggie sounds.”

       I got the point. When I could move I swiveled around and crawled back through the doorway past my wife who had been standing there all the time.

       “Wow,” I heard my wife say, “you got him to give up so easily.”

       “Oh don’t misunderstand, Mildred,” Samantha laughed, “he hasn’t given up yet.  He’s just taking the path of least resistance for now thinking that he will get a chance to escape later.”

       I had been thinking that.  She had to sleep sometime or have a moment of inattention or make a mistake and when she did…

       “But I will completely eliminate any trace of resistance from him before I’m through,” she said.  “He will be a dog and nothing more.”

       “In your dreams,” I thought.  “There is no way that using a cattle prod on me is going to break my spirit.”

       “Of course he doesn’t think so right now but then he hasn’t seen what I’m capable of,” Samantha said.

       “So, I can come back on the 20^th and he’ll be…ready?” my wife asked.

       “He’ll be…malleable,” Samantha chuckled, “but…ready the way you really want him will take a few more weeks after that.”

       “I guess I can be patient,” my wife said.

       “Are you really sure you don’t want him to still have some independent thought?” Samantha asked.

       “I don’t know,” my wife said.  “I guess I can ask.”

       “Ask?” I wondered.  “Ask who?  Me?” 

       “Jerry, what do you think?  Do you want to be my cooperative dog or my mindless one?” my wife asked.

       I looked at her but kept my mouth shut. Samantha still had that wicked cattle prod in her hand and I wasn’t risking another jolt.

       “Jerry,” my wife said testily, “I asked you a question and I expect an answer.”

       I looked at the cattle prod and dropped my eyes to the floor.

       “I think he’s afraid to answer, Mildred,” Samantha giggled.

       “Oh!” my wife exclaimed when she realized my predicament.  “Jerry, you may answer.  I promise that Samantha will not hurt you.”

       I looked again at the cattle prod and shuddered.  Mildred took the prod from Samantha’s hand and laid it down next to me.

       “Answer me, Jerry,” she demanded.

       “Mildred, why are you doing this?” I asked.

       “That wasn’t the question, Jerry.”

       “Mildred, if you let me go right now I won’t…”

       “God damn it, Jerry,” she interrupted, “I have no intention of ‘letting you go’ as you term it.  The question is do you want to be my dog willingly or should I let her break you?”

       “Mildred, I don’t know what you think she can do but when I get free I am going to…”

       I stopped talking.  She had picked the prod back up and pointed it at me.

       “Dog or mindless dog?” she snapped.

       “Mildred…”

       “Fuck it then!  Mindless dog,” she said, putting the prod on my chest and pulling the trigger.

       I writhed on the floor watching as she handed the prod back to Samantha and walked out the door without ever looking back at me. 

       “I think you pissed her off, Jerry,” Samantha said.

       I wanted to say ‘fuck you’ but I knew that she’d just use the prod on me again so I glared at her instead.  She laughed and motioned toward the house.  I didn’t need to be told twice.  I crawled back into the living room.

       “Crawl into the kitchen and out the back door, Jerry,” she said.  “I need to get you set for the night.”

       In the back yard was a large fenced dog run with razor wire at the top. Inside was an oversized dog house.  In the center of the run was an eyebolt set into a large cement block with what looked like about fifty foot of chain attached to it.  She led me into the run and locked the end of the chain to my collar.

       “This is your home for the next few months, boy,” Samantha said.  “You will sleep in the dog house and do your business in the corner.  The chain is long enough to reach to the porch when I want the use of your doggie tongue or let you out for training.  The sooner that you accept that your life as a man is over the easier things will be for you.”

       I opened my mouth to say something but she held up her hand and stopped me.

       “I’m not going to tell you again that, dogs don’t speak,” she said crossly.  “If you insist on speaking I will have your vocal cords removed and that isn’t the only modification I’ll make if you give me trouble.  Once in a while I do find that I have to permanently ‘gentle’ a dog by neutering it.”

       Neuter?  My balls tried to retract into my body and an involuntary whine escaped my lips.  She laughed.

       “I see that got your attention,” she chuckled.  “I want you to check out your new home and settle in.  I’m going out to dinner with friends and I’ll bring my leftovers home for your dinner.”

       I gave her a horrified look.

       “You think that having to eat my leftovers is bad?” she tittered.  “Leftovers are a special treat.  Normally all I feed my dogs is Purina dog chow.”

***

       She came home about ten thirty.  I was hungry and I was thirsty and I was really sick of crawling around like a dog.  She got out of the car, walked over to my cage, unlocked it and walked to the porch.  She sat down in a chair on the porch and smiled at me.

       “Come here boy,” she said.

       I crawled through the door of the run, across the yard to the porch, stopping at her feet.

       “Hungry, boy?” she asked.

       I nodded.

       “Bark once for yes and twice for no,” she said.

       I looked at her with embarrassment but the cattle prod was in her right hand and she was expecting me to answer.

       “Arf,” I barked.

       “Good boy,” she purred.  “I brought you some of my dinner.  Would you like that?”

       She waited patiently until I finally barked out my response and then hiked up her dress so that I could see her pussy.

       “First good doggies need to earn their treats,” she said sweetly.

       I looked at her cunt then back at her face.  She was smiling but it was an evil smile.

       “First dessert and then dinner,” she said.  “Start licking, boy.”

       I pushed my face between her legs and started licking.  She started squirming and moaning right away.  Evidently one of my duties as a dog was going to be oral service.  I worked on bringing her to orgasm while my mind drifted off thinking of ways that I could escape.  When I finished she pushed me away and placed a take away container down that contained some veggies, a piece of chicken and one red potato.  I dove into it hungrily.

       “Such a good boy,” she praised.  “We are going to have so much fun together.”

       “Like hell,” I thought.

       “Does my doggie need something to drink?” she asked.

       I was, in fact, quite thirsty.  I’d been in that cage in the hot sun all afternoon and even after the sun went down it had been hot.  She hadn’t left me anything to drink.  I barked once.

       “Poor baby,” she said.  “I need to fix you up.”

       She walked into the kitchen and came back carrying a doggie water dish.  She hiked up her dress, placed the dish in between her legs and started pissing.  I watched in horror as she almost filled it to the brim.

       “Oh dear,” she giggled.  “I guess I drank too much wine at dinner.”

       She put the bowl down in front of me and I recoiled in disgust.  I barked twice.  She laughed.

       “You better get used to it, boy,” she said, “because that’s all you’re going to ever get to drink.”

       I barked twice again.

       “And if it’s not gone in the morning I will be taking those measures I mentioned to gentle you down a bit,” she giggled.

       I howled as it finally penetrated that I was never going to be anything but a dog again.

       “See, I told you,” she said sweetly.  “We are going to get on just fine.”

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