Becoming a dog to a BBW Mistress – part 1

Big beautiful mistress

I met her on the internet and shared my fantasies with her. Dark dreams about being dominated by a BBW mistress that have eaten away at me for years. She helped me realize them but it was not an easy process. In order to learn to serve her, I had to be broken into the femdom dynamic.


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We agreed to meet. She instructed me only to tell friends and relatives that I was going out of town for the weekend. She gave me directions on a place to drive to, somewhere between the towns where we each lived. She describes a parking lot where I am to leave my car. A bus that runs further out of the town and a stretch of woods a couple of miles down the road with a little gravel pullover and an old hiking trail. She has told me of a bridge and a little clearing, a visible landmark a half mile along the trail. Once I arrive there at the designated hour I have been told to place the two items I have been ordered to bring on myself. The first is a leather blindfold. Once in place, my world grows dark. Her second instruction is that I am to handcuff myself to one railing of the bridge with metal police handcuffs. For safety reasons I have been allowed to retain the key in case she is prevented from making our rendezvous.

The little bridge in the woods is to be our auction block. She has informed me that she will come here at her leisure and inspect me. Blindfolded, I will not see her, the choice in this matter is entirely hers and not mine in accord with one of my deepest desires. She may reject me or choose to play with me on the spot or even take me home with her for the weekend. It is to be her choice. But I had already made the mistake of entrusting her with my darkest desires, my need to be deprived of choice and self-control and also of confiding my fear and trepidation, my reluctance to let go and surrender this control. That night she would make the decision for me, it was to be, without me anticipating it, my journey into a life of slavery.

Feeling Mistress’ power for the first time

But I am getting ahead of myself. In the woods, I waited until at length I heard the sound of footsteps on leaves. Then I felt her hand for the first time, pulling at my ponytail and heard her voice ordering me to “Stand up tall, spread eagle, legs apart.” and felt her foot kicking at my ankle.

I struggle into position. Then I hear her urging me to hold very still. Then I feel the flat edge of the steel blade of a knife pressing against my cheek. It is cold to the touch and sends a shiver racing up my spine. She brings the knife to the back of my neck and then I feel the blade as it tares the back of my old black t-shirt from the collar to the hem. The two halves of my shirt part, clinging at my arms, my back bare and exposed to the night air. She pressed her hands to my shoulder blades and runs her fingers approvingly over my back.

The knife travels to first one arm then the other and finishes the task of ripping my shirt to shreds so that it no longer clings to my body. She moves down to my jeans, her hands stroking my crotch before fumbling with my belt buckle and pulling it off of my pants.

The strap of my own belt cracks across my back.
“You have a nice strong back. I’m going to mark it now so that there can be no doubts about who is in charge. I want to see how well you can take a beating as a boy in my house can expect to be beaten often.”

The belt thuds across my back bringing welts to the surface.

“You may moan or scream but do not speak. You have not yet earned the right of speaking to me. “

After a good fifty strokes, she stops and unbuttons my button fly jeans, easing them down off of my narrow hips until they hang awkwardly about my ankles.

As instructed, I am without underpants, so now aside from my pants resting on my shoes I am completely exposed.
“What a nice butt, let’s bring some color to those cheeks.” And the beating starts again, this time with my buttocks as the target. I squirm a little at first, but learn not to once she wraps my ponytail around my fist and forces my head down to the railing. She holds me like this while lashing my ass with my own belt.

Once my bottom is blushing red she stops and while still holding my ponytail with one hand, slides a finger from her other hand it to my mouth.

“Suck it boy. Get it nice and wet. Suck it hard. “ I slurp at her finger, sensuously caressing it with my mouth the way women had sometimes sucked my cock. She stabs her finger in and out as if it were a weapon.

“I hope you got that wet enough.” She hisses and removes it from my mouth only to place it against another opening.

“Tsk, Tsk, what a tight boy pussy. You may not be suitable after all.” She spreads one cheek with one hand, nails digging into my flesh, while the spit-lubricated finger burns its way past my tight sphincter. My hole yields unwillingly to her violation at first, but with rising courage, I press my rear towards her and fuck her probing finger back.

“That’s better you little slut. God, you need that ass fucked slut. Show me how bad you want it. Fuck my finger. The dick I’m going to stick into you is going to be so much bigger than this.”

Her words are my first indication that I will be leaving these woods with her. That I have been accepted. Straining against the discomfort I redouble my efforts to please her, rocking back and forth faster and harder.

She smacks my ass hard with her free hand and extracts the probing finger from my tight hole, quickly snaking it between my thighs and seizing me by the balls.

A big woman needs a big cock

“They’re small, but they hang nice and low. They’ll probably hang a little lower after a few sessions with the weights. But those sorts of improvements will help you understand that you’re hole and balls and you’re entire body belongs to me.” She gives a squeeze that leaves me wincing and panting in pain and then slides her hand up the underside of my cock.

Her free hand is wrapped back around my ponytail and her lips are quivering so close to my ears that I can feel her hot breath. She stroking my cock now. Hard squeezes, a tight yet arousing grip.

“Let’s see how big this dildo gets. I want to see if it’s too puny to satisfy my appetites. I want it hard for my inspection.”

And I am getting hard, aroused by the feeling of her large breasts pressing through her shirt against my bare back and the hand the job she is giving me. But it must not be growing stiff fast enough for her because she is yanking my hair harder and urging me on with a torrent of abuse.

“Well that might be big enough to satisfy my ass when I’m in the mood, but I have a much bigger dildo then this that I use all time. Surely you can do a little bigger than this, the way you bragged to me in those pathetic e-mails. Show me, I’m a big woman you know, I need a big cock to satisfy me. If you ever earn the reward of being allowed to satisfy me personally that is.”

Her words have a stimulating effect on me. The more she treats me like an animal at auction or a piece of meat to poked and prodded the harder I become. My erection juts out now.

“Oh now that’s better. It just might do. Maybe with some more modification, a little pumping, a few piercings to add to my pleasure.”

She runs her thumb over my spongy crown and feels the tip moist with precum.

“I think that’s enough. After all, you haven’t earned the right to cum yet either. Kick off your shoes.”

Awkwardly I step on one heel and push until my foot flies free and shake off the shoe. Then with even more difficulty use the freed foot to extract myself from my remaining show.

“Now your jeans.”

Still cuffed to the bridge I manage to free my ankles and find myself standing nude except for the blindfold and my socks. I realize she has bent down scooped up my pants and shoes when I hear her extract the handcuff key from my front pants pocket. She twists the key into one of the keyholes and my wrist springs free for a just a second before she grabs it and pins my arms behind my back. The still cuffed wrist is brought away from the railing and I am quickly re-cuffed with both my arms behind my back.

“Hold these.” She orders and I feel my shoes pressed against my hands. I grab them and hold one dangling from each hand. “And now this.” She adds and drapes my jeans over my bound wrists.

She turns me around by my ponytail and points us back in the direction of the road.

“Now move.” She punctuates the command with the sting of my leather belt whipped against my lower thighs. She steers me along the trail by holding onto my hair and urges me forward by strapping my thighs. It is a long slow walk back out to the road with my feet stumbling over the stony path, crunching among the leaves and tripping over roots. Unaccustomed to traveling over this sort of terrain without shoes my feet are sore by the time we reach her car.

She opens the passenger side and guides me by my ponytail until my head rests against the seat.

“Lift up your feet” she orders. “I’m not letting you into my car with those filthy socks.”

I lift first one and then the other and feel her tug them off of me. I am wondering what would happen if some car passed us now and saw my naked body hanging half out of the car. But I know that this must be a fairly deserted stretch of road even by day and that even if a car did pass quickly in the night it would see only the car at the side of the road. Not the powerful woman forcing her naked slave into her car from between the far side of the pull off and the entrance to the wooded trail.
I am forced down into the wheel well of the car on the passenger side and hear the door slam shut behind me. A moment later the driver’s side door opens and I feel the seat move as she sits down in front of the wheel.
“Now be a good pup on the drive home.” She coos, pulling my head by my ponytail so that it rests in her ample lap. I hear her turn the keys in the ignition, feel the movement of her thighs as she feathers the gas. Her left hand hold my head steady, grinding my face against her crotch. I am quickly lost in the twists and turns of the car as we travel this way for the better part of an hour.

Becoming her dog

She does talk to me. Telling me what is in store for me for the next 48 hours. The first lesson in dehumanization. I will spend the rest of the weekend as a dog. Forbidden to speak, to get up off of all fours, to eat with utensils or drink from a glass.

At last the car slows, turning into what is evidently her driveway, and I hear the sound of the electric garage door raising, the car pulling in and at last, coming to a complete stop.

She gets out of the car first and then opens my side and guides me out by the nape of my neck. I clamber awkwardly down, placing my feet on the garage floor first.

“Bad dog!” She laughs, slapping my ass. “A well-trained dog would never leave the car hind legs first.”

The cement floor is hard and cold beneath my knees and elbows, but my guided trip across it is short. I remain thoroughly disoriented by the blindfold, but once she opens a door and guides me through it I realize that we have emerged into some sort of backyard through a door at the rear of the garage.

“Now to hose you down and clean you off a little before bringing you into the house.” My new owner informs me as i hear the familiar sound of a key turning to open the flow of water to a garden hose. I am still caught off guard as a spray of cold water hits my naked ass. She hoses over my body, soaking my hair, spraying under my armpits and then setting to work on my ass and crotch. At first, the squirting is playful, a mist of water over my dangling testicles and flaccid cock. Then, maliciously, I feel the pressure building up until she is pounding my genitals with a hard jet of water. I squirm involuntarily and receive a reprimand, a sharp slap to my wet rear and a command to sit still. The hard jet of water is directed between my buttocks until the stream is pushing against my tight rear hole. I feel her fingers, wet from the spray, peeling apart my buttocks, probing for my asshole and redirecting the stream right on its target. The pelting water has almost the intensity of tiny pebbles hitting against the sensitive flesh.

“There we go.” She says, shutting off the water and releasing a satisfied sigh. I hear her vanish into the garage for a second when she returns it must be with a large beach towel as I feel her beginning to dry me off. The towel tosses my head of thick wet hair and brusquely wipes down my body, the pace slows to linger over my cock and balls alone where I can feel her hands gripping me roughly through the terry cloth fabric and squeezing my organs.

I am led back into the garage and commanded to “Sit!” Kneeling back on my heels with my arms straight in front of me I attempt to imitate a canine posture as best I can.

“Now for your collar puppy, so everyone will know who you belong to.” I feel a leather collar slide over my neck and feel my freedom slipping away from me as she jerks it tight. Then my ears detect the sound of metal wrestling against metal and of a padlock sliding shut. She pats my head comfortingly.

“And now, to help you out a little bit. Give me your right front paw dog.” I obediently extend my right arm and feel her slip an elbow pad, like those used by skaters and skateboarders, up my arm. “And the left.” she prompts, repeating the process. Then, moving behind me, she commands me to extend my rear legs one at a time and feel her slide the knee pads home. I am grateful for the consideration she shows me by supplying these small comforts.

Next, she produces a pair of leather bondage mitts. She places one of my front paws into mitt and buckles the straps tight, effectively depriving me of the use of my opposable thumbs and reducing me to an animalistic method.

“Good puppy,” she says, rubbing her hands behind my ears and then she attaches a lead to my collar and drags me back into the garage and across the floor to another doorway, where she guides me into a hallway and up a short flight of steps. I can feel the cold texture of linoleum under me and correctly surmise that I have been led into the kitchen.

“Sit.” She commands and obediently I squat on my haunches. I hear more fidgeting sounds, the sink running, an electric can opener whirring. Then two bowls are placed before me.

“Time for you to eat and drink. You must be a hungry dog and this may be your last chance before tomorrow morning.”

Since I cannot see she grabs my ponytail and forces my face down into the dog dish filled with water. The water goes up into my nose and wets my mustache and goatee. I quickly adapt to this new game, slurping up the refreshing water.

“And now for your food.” I am instructed, as her fist again wraps around my hair and uses it as a handle to plop my face ungraciously in the food. It’s a mess, I can feel the slimy food clinging to my face. For a moment i feel an urge to vomit, convinced I am really covered in canned dog food.
Clearly disappointed in my sudden lack of enthusiasm she grinds my face into the mush and in a far more severe tone orders me to eat.

“Come on you filthy bitch, eat up your supper, I don’t have all day.” She punctuates her command by pressing my face harder against the dish and giving my ass a good hard slap with her other hand.

I struggle to work my jaw and take a bit of what I still believe to be dog food into my mouth. The first gulp I reluctantly swallow. By the second or third I realize that there is something familiar about the taste, that I am actually gulping down cold canned soup, some sort of beef stew of or the like. The experience is till unpleasant with the cold soup sinking heavily into my belly and as many chunks ending up plastered to my face as sliding down my throat. But I am held in position until the dish is done and ordered to lick the bowl clean.

“Look what a mess you’ve made you filthy beast.” My Mistress chides as she roughly scrubs the food off my lower face with a damp clothe. She takes delicate care only when it comes to wiping a few particles of food off of the leather blinders.

I am allowed one last refreshing gulp of water and led off into the living room, my Mistress fiddles with the TV and VCR for a couple of seconds and then leads me over to the couch. I hear her situating herself comfortably and then she orders me to lie at her feet. While my Mistress amuses herself with a movie I remain submissively at her heels, able only to hear the dialogue. Throughout the movie, I am ignored except for a few occasions when my Mistress, remembering my presence, runs a foot absentmindedly over my ass.

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A couple of hours later the movies begin to rewind and my Mistress stirs again. I hear her yawn and inform me that it is time for my “walk before bed.”
I listen as she stands up and gathers up my leash and feel the jerk on my collar as she drags me through the house, we pass through a room and I hear the unmistakable of a sliding door traveling along its track.

“Now watch your step.”

I fumble along beside her feeling as if I am crawling out into nothing, but there are no steps, just a little lip between the house and the grass which feel damp under my shins. She leads some ways across a lawn which i have not yet succeeded in visualizing, but I can hear the outdoors sounds like katydids chirping and feel a slight breeze.

“Well dog, don’t keep me waiting, lift your leg and pee, this is your last chance for the night.” Her voice is stern with more than a hint of impatience. I’d like nothing more than to obey her command, the coffee i drank during my hour-long drive to our rendezvous point was begging for release throughout the movie. But being unaccustomed to watering a lawn on demand I find I have suddenly become pee shy. A situation my new owner does not seem to have much sympathy for.

She gives a hard pull on my hair and whispers venomously, “Well, go on damn it, piss for me bitch.”
Foolishly I fail to stifle my urge to protest as she tugs at my scalp, “Please Mistress I can’t . . .”

“What’s this,” she quickly cuts off my protests mid-stream, “bitches don’t talk, they bark, they whine, but they do not speak. One more word out of that pathetic mouth and you’ll be kept muzzled for a week.” Her words are punctuated by a kick in the ass followed by several hard slaps. “Now do it, bitch.”

I strain to release the water, a panic washing over me, I can feel myself becoming sweaty, my tenseness makes it harder not easier. Eventually, as I strain I begin to feel a weak trickle of urine escape my penis, falling in droplets on the ground. The stream gathers strength and soon becomes a steady jet vaguely smelling of coffee.

As it peters back down to a trickle she brusquely commends me, “That’s better, see you really did have to go, now if you’re all down, let’s get back in the house, it’s almost time for bed.”

I am led back across the lawn by my tightly jerked collar until we reach the house and then only assisted by the command “paw up,” as I am driven back into the house. Guided through a long room to a carpeted staircase which i clamber up with difficulty, assisted only by tugs on the chain lead and smacks across my bottom. At the top of the stairs, we proceed down a hall and turn off into my Mistress’s bedroom.

“Sit!”

Owner’s bed duties for the pet

I can feel and hear as the leash is unclipped from my collar. And then I hear the soft rustling sounds of a woman undressing. She hooks her fingers under my collar just behind my neck and pulls me over to her bed. I hear the mattress creak under her weight as she sits down and she prods me with an “up.”

“Now you’re not housebroken yet so you can’t sleep in a bed. But Mommy would like to reward you for being a good dog. And I do know how much doggies like to sniff crotch. So why don’t you show me how well you can lick.”

She uses her fingers, hooked between the leather collar and my neck, to guide over the bed. My hands brush up against her large thighs. Ever so slightly I can begin to smell her musky wetness. She leaves me a little further up and then pushes my head down. My hands wander, trying to find a place to rest. I wonder if I am allowed to touch her with them. I finally manage to plant my hands on either side of her wide hips, I can feel the cool of her flesh as it brushes against the insides of my arms.

My forehead rests against the roll of her belly now and the insides of her thighs rub against my neck. My faces are pressed against her crotch where I can feel the ever so slight stubble of her shaved sex.

“Go on lick.”

My tongue finds the slit, slowly tracing a wet circle around the outside of her nether lips. I pry her vulva apart with my tongue and then slide it into the warm opening tasting her juices. I fuck her with my tongue, sliding it in and out. She seems to tense a little and then relaxes, pressing down a bit to meet the thrusts of my tongue.

I slide it out of her and clamp my mouth against the opening, breathing deep, letting the air whisper over the sensitive flesh. And I search a little above with my tongue, letting it wander until I find the tiny knob of her hood. I inch my mouth up, wrap my lips about her clit and begin to suck. I imagine it as a tiny penis and try to do everything to her that I remember being done on me in the very best blow jobs I ever received. I suck gently but constantly and aggressively.
I feel her move to adjust herself and feel the weight of her legs as it comes to rest over my back. Her heels grind against my back and she grabs a painfully tight fistful of my hair and grinds my face hard against her pussy.

I increase my performance, fluttering my tongue over the clit even as I suck. Flickering it in the manner I imagine a snakes tongue to move. I am pleased as I hear the sighs of pleasure that escape her lips. She is very wet now and I can feel the wetness seeping into my goatee, running over my chin.

I continue working my mouth around, sucking, flicking my tongue and occasionally shifting just enough to probe her inside for a second or two too. Losing myself in the bliss of my task I gradually slide my hands until they are grasping her large buttocks. I hold on to these and use them as a handle as I go up and down on her clit. Her hands in my hair effectively regulate my rhythm to her pleasure.

Even as my tongue begins to fatigue I begin to feel the indications of her mounting orgasm. I can feel her body clenching and unclench involuntarily and the moans of pleasure she emits. She pulls my hair harder and forces my mouth harder against her cunt. I enjoy the sensation as she bucks against my mouth, her hips grinding upwards to embrace my lips. I feel her fist tighten as she orgasms, then relax and push me away from her pelvis with a sigh.

She shifts her body further on to her back, I can feel the mattress roll under her weight. She rubs her ass against my face.

“You’re not done yet.”

I kiss her fleshy buttocks and brush my lips over her backside searching for the valley between her ass cheeks.

“You’re not there yet dog. Come on, you know where to stick your tongue.”

Enthusiastically my tongue finds and plunges into her dark earthy hole. With the first couple of licks my stomach is in revolt and then I relax, overcome by excitement. My tongue fucks her asshole in a steady rhythm and i feel my cock stiffening once more. Her large buttocks press against my face and I can once more hear sighs and moans of satisfaction.

“That’s it puppy, lick my ass, kiss it good.”

I am lost in submissive heaven, the humiliating aspects of this shore render it all the more arousing for me, my tongue circles the sphincter again and again and then thrusts back through the tight hole. My revery is interrupted only by a sharp yank of my hair that redirects back to my owners wet cunt.

“That’s it. I’m feeling so insatiable tonight. Make me cum again you lucky beast.”

It takes much longer to coax an orgasm this time. My tongue is fatigued feeling almost as if it will fall out of my mouth by the time she grips my hair even harder and thrusts her pelvis up into my mouth.

Her grip relaxes and she strokes and pets my head for a few minutes as her breathing calms. At last, she sits up and grips the D-ring of my collar back in her fingers. I follow her off of the bed, stumbling a little as I make the journey down to the floor. She crosses to the wall and flicks off the light switch. A fact of which I am barely cognizant under the blindfold. Then she leads me back across the floor.

“When you’re properly housetrained you might earn the privilege of sleeping in my bed. But for now, this kennel will do nicely.” She unhooks my blindfold and for the first time in what must be nearly six hours my vision is returned to me. In the nearly dark room, I can just barely make out the wire bars of a large dog cage that has been set up near the foot of the bed.

“Go on, in you go.” She swats my ass to direct me into the cage.

I duck and just barely managed to squeeze low enough to enter it. Once inside I do not even have room to turn around. I just barely have room to lie down by turning on my side in a curled fetal position. Mercifully there is a thick, soft blanket covering the floor of the cage, but the metal sides press against the flesh of my broad shoulders. I can watch as she picks a thick padlock off the top of the cage and locks the door shut.

I can just barely make out my Mistress for the first time. A large shadow looming over me as she pats the cage and returns to bed. I hear the creaking of the box springs and after a few minutes, her breathing slows to the steady soft sighs of a sleeper.


Kinky playmates in

Uncomfortable in my cage, too tight to even toss and turn, I restlessly contemplate sleep.

To the second part of the story

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