Becoming Dogshit the Bitch

Mistress enjoyed her dinner as I stood nearby but out of her sight to serve as waiter. I had assumed that the can of spam was for me, but it was never offered, probably because I had failed so terribly at shopping. She spent the rest of the evening sitting in the living room reading while I sat at the kitchen table filling out the huge pad. When bedtime came I had very mixed feelings about sleeping on the bathroom floor. On the one hand it was a huge act of submission, on the other it would probably be miserable. Mistress resolved the issue by saying, "What used to be our bed is now my bed. You will sleep in my bed as far from me as possible and remain silent." I was a little disappointed until she added, "You will sleep with your earbuds in and set your phone to wake you at five and continue with your project until you bring me cinnamon toast and coffee in bed at eight." I wanted to ask a question but didn't dare until she said, "You look like you have a question. Use your name as you ask it."

I shivered, the memory of the quirt was still fresh, "May Dog Shit have coffee or toast Mistress?"

"Coffee and that reminds me, you no longer eat anything without permission." Her voice was matter of fact, the same tone she would use to tell me that we are out of milk. The very casualness with which she took away my ability to eat as I please made it a huge turn-on.

Five is early on any day, for Sunday morning it's very early but I got up as instructed and followed my instructions. When I read what I had put on my "Please Make me" list last night I realized that I had been pussy footing around. Alone with the sun just beginning to rise I added several things that were very hard to admit I wanted like public humiliation, cross dressing, chastity and orgasm denial. When I reviewed again at six, I took a deep breath and added cuckoldry and diapers. There were two more but even alone and already falling into submission I just couldn't write them down. I switched to the "I want to" page. That one was somehow less confessional in nature and much easier. Many of the entries went into vanilla world like changing the oil in her car, many more were personal service like breakfast in bed every day and a foot rub every night. By seven I was out of ideas, so I wrote my name and status a few dozen times on the first blank page then started on breakfast. After the steak debacle I tossed the pot of coffee that I had made for myself out and made a fresh one with the special occasion coffee then put our nice cream and sugar holders on a tray. I wished that I had thought of going out to buy flowers when I still had time but there is a flower bed in our yard that provided a couple that looked nice in a bud vase.

The toast came out of the oven at seven fifty-seven and I walked through the bedroom door at seven fifty-nine. Mistress was already awake and when she saw the tray she smiled brightly saying, "Now this is how a morning should start!" Her pleasure was my pleasure and even though I was starving watching her relish the toast and coffee made me very happy. Watching her set the dishes aside and begin pleasuring herself made me even happier. I don't know if she was enjoying allowing me to watch or if she had lost her respect for me to the point where she simply didn't care.

I offered to tend to Mistress in the bathroom, but she sent me to scrub the kitchen floor instead. A month ago, doing such a drudge work chore would have been miserable. For some reason doing it as a slave made it pleasantly relaxing. When She came downstairs, she went to the table and sat down then carefully read what I had written. I continued my cleaning, but I was blushing from head to toe at what I knew she was reading. When she finished, she motioned me over to sit in the chair across from her. She sounded like her old self as she said, "Honey, we both know that this isn't complete. If you aren't ready to really surrender yourself that's fine but I was under the impression that you wanted to do this for real."

I couldn't look at her. I had never been so embarrassed in my life. This wasn't sexual humiliation which I would have enjoyed, this was normal and terrible embarrassment. I looked down at the table and it took all the courage I have to say, "I just couldn't write it all down, I really tried."

She sounded like we were discussing buying a garden hose, "I don't mind forgetting the whole thing or just letting you get away with this but if I don't what's going to happen next will be very unpleasant and I don't think you will ever be the same again."

I wanted to beg her to do as she pleased but I couldn't get past the embarrassment enough to form the words. What I said came out unintelligible, so she politely asked me to repeat it, "I don't want to be the same again Mistress."

Her voice was back to it's new normal but still pleasant and polite when she said, "Use the bathroom then go to the guest bedroom and lay on the bed, spread eagle and face down."

I heard her go into the garage before she came into the guest room. That made sense, she would need some rope if she planned to bind me and beat me. Sure enough, as soon as she came in she began putting the restraints I had bought for her on my wrists and ankles. Once they were firmly in place, she put a blindfold in my hand and told me to put it on. I had forgotten that we owned that, it was one of the nice ones that lets you open your eyes that I had bought intending for her to wear it. Once I was in the dark, she attached pieces of rope to the corners of the bed and bound me there. The bonds were actually a little loose and I almost asked her to make them tighter, but I felt like under the circumstances that would be unwise. Already feeling a little hazy I heard her say, "It's easier if you just surrender." Then I felt her putting the hearing protectors I use when I'm using power tools over my ears.

What happened next was nothing, a truly terrible nothing. The earmuffs wouldn't keep me from hearing her speak but they did cut off all the little noises from birds and traffic, so I was alone in silence and she simply left me there. After a while I got bored, then I got angry, finally I did what she had advised and simply surrendered. I took a couple of psychology classes in college, so I knew what Mistress was doing but that didn't make it any less effective. Alone in the dark, unable to move more than a couple of inches and forced to be all alone in my thoughts I realized what I had done. Worse yet I realized what I was. That made me cry a little inside the blindfold, mourning the fact that I would never feel like a real man again and knowing that I had never really been one, this is what I have always been. I had no way to measure time so I don't know how long it was but by the time I felt a soft hand on my buttocks the sadness had passed and I was looking forward to starting me new life as me, Dog Shit the bitch. Her voice was muffled as she said, "Do not speak, answer by nodding. Have you surrendered?" I nodded. I expected her to say something more, but she let the harsh leather paddle speak for her. Each stroke was hard and carefully placed, after being alone for so long the pain felt like a gift from God. When it finally stopped, I realized that it was a gift from God, my new Goddess.

After her last blow she said, "Think about how lucky you are until I come back."

My dick was tucked under me, so my erection felt great against the sheet. I was calm and content now and not at all tempted to rub it against the bed and I did think about how lucky I am. There are dozens of submissive men for every dominant woman, the fact that I had found the perfect one was nothing short of a miracle. This wait wasn't as long as the last one. When the hand touched my bottom again, I wanted to scream my thanks to her. I knew what she was going to do when she said, "This is how you have sex now Cunt." The wait while she lubricated me and then the toy seemed like forever. I was surprised when she used the smaller toy again, not that it was small, the stretching felt like fire. She put every inch of it inside me and I loved being so full. Then she pulled it all the way out and put it all the way in again. She did that over and over until I was so stretched that it felt comfortable and nice going inside me, then she changed to the larger one. This time the stretching was much worse, and it went much deeper inside me. The first one felt like I was being fucked, this one felt like I was being raped. I was surprised at how much I liked that feeling and I had the sense that she liked making me feel it. When she finally stopped my entire body relaxed at once and I felt the desire to kneel and thank her again.

"Say I'm just a piece of ass" until I tell you to stop.

It was a struggle to talk but I said it and I meant it over and over as she undid the ropes holding me down. I was allowed to stretch for a minute then she removed the ear covers but the blindfold stayed on. I thought that being bound made me feel helpless but that was nothing compared to how I felt when she put a choke collar around my neck and made me follow her through the house blind. She took me to the guest bathroom and positioned me in front of the mirror, slightly bent over and holding on to the counter before asking, "You are very sure?" I wasn't sure if I was allowed to speak or not, so I nodded vigorously. I heard the cap on the tube of lube open then a few seconds later my ass was being filled again. It was the smaller dildo and after being stretched by the big one it felt warm and comforting. She removed my blindfold and gave my eyes a few seconds to adjust then ordered me to watch the slave in the mirror. Even to my own eyes I looked pathetic even before she started moving the toy in and out. After about thirty seconds she removed it and put it in the sink to be washed. From the corner of my eye I saw her lubricating the larger one then I felt her putting just the tip inside me. That's when the last trace of my ego and my dignity died.

"The first one was just a bit bigger than you, but it was still smaller than the average man's cock. I'm sure it felt comfortable and comforting just like you always felt inside me. This one is just a trace bigger than the average man, feel how much more exciting it is." It wasn't too painful since I was already stretched out but the difference in how it felt was night and day." I told you to watch the slave in the mirror." That was the end of me as a man, when I saw the slave in the mirror panting helplessly, the ecstasy on his face and the tiny hard dick between his legs I could no longer deny anything. Tears began flowing from my eyes which mercifully blurred my sight but unmanned me even further. She gave me three full minutes which is a long time when you are watching your own face as you are being ass fucked, then she removed it and said, "Now, go and finish the paper on the kitchen table." The sketch book had been left open to the "Please make me" page.

I wiped my eyes with my forearm then even as the tears refilled my eyes I wrote, "Make me suck a man's cock. Make me lick a man's ass." Then finally, "Make me submit to being ass raped by a man." When I looked up she was standing next to me, she pulled my head to her bare bosom and began stroking my face as she said, "It will be okay now Dog Shit. You are ready to really accept yourself as you are." I was still crying but my tears were happy ones now. Would you like to know the real definition of a male slave? It's a man who has nothing left to make him feel like he is worth the air he breaths except the tiny bit of approval that he gets when he pleases the one woman who will tolerate how he is. The two minutes she let me cry on her chest formed a set of chains on me that I would never want to have removed.

When she had given me long enough to be sure her lesson had taken, she said, "Close your eyes and masturbate Pig."

I was surprised when I found out I was soft, I felt like I had been hard for hours. That changed quickly and soon I fell into the old familiar rhythm.

"Much slower and if you cum I will cut it off."

I slowed down obediently, thinking that she only had to tell me, the threat wasn't necessary but the fact she cared enough to castrate me made my heart soar. I was so lost in what I was thinking and doing that I didn't realize that she had been moving around in the kitchen until I heard her say, "Your lunch and a bottle of water are in front of you, finish both." Lunch was barely warmed Spam; it was better than I deserved so I was grateful for her kindness. I finished the water quickly and loved her approving smile as she refilled the bottle from the tap. I finished first then sat in silence as she ate some sort of deluxe salad. When we were finished, she handed me the bathing suit I had purchased the night before and ordered me to put it on then laughed out loud as I struggled to figure out how to get into the darn thing. Once it was on she led me to the bathroom and ordered me to look at myself. The femininity of it was embarrassing but what really embarrassed me was seeing how my stomach looked. In men's clothes I look like I have maybe a little pudge, in the swimsuit I looked like a pink beached whale. She read my face like a comic book and said, "That's why I control your eating now. It's enough that you are a pig, you are not going to be a fat pig." I wasn't sure if I was allowed to speak at the moment, so I nodded my agreement thinking to myself that the difference in weight standards between men and women are profoundly unfair.

It was time for her hour of sunbathing. She removed het t-shirt, bra and shorts then laid down on her chaise. I was given a beach towel with a My Little Pony motif and ordered to lay in the grass. I was bored almost immediately and wished that I had been allowed a position where I could look at her amazing body. After maybe five minutes it occurred to me to wonder why she wasn't having me sunbathe naked like she did. When I realized that the suit would give me a distinctive and humiliating tan line laying there became an act of obedience. It was still boring but much more enjoyable. At the fifteen-minute mark she rolled over and ordered me to do the same. At the thirty-minute mark she sent me inside saying, "Your fish belly skin can't take any more. Go inside and clean the master bathroom which is now the mistress bathroom. Once the fact you will lick the dirt off of anything you missed stops worrying, you take the door off of your bathroom."

I pointed at my mouth and got a nod in return then said, "It will be an honor Mistress."

I began by relocating all my things, as I did, I realized that the only parts of the room that weren't already spotless were the ones I use. Cleaning Mistress's bathroom is every submissive man's fantasy. Once my junk was gone, I was in my happy place as I wiped every surface down with a disinfecting wipe, including the hidden inside rim of the toilet and each individual ring holding the shower curtain. By the time I finished it was almost time for her to come inside so I rushed to the garage for my electric screwdriver, I was carrying the door out to the garage when she came back into the house. Once the door was situated, I found her inspecting her bathroom. She looked everywhere then turned around and ordered me to my hands and knees. I expected a punishment, I had been expecting one since I began cleaning just because a piece of dog shit should never be able to reach the standards of a goddess. To my surprise she patted me on the head, literally petting me like a dog then said, "You did very well Dog Shit."

I basked in the glow of her words for a few seconds then asked, "May I go use my bathroom? Please Mistress!"

She said, "Yes you may but I don't like hearing you call something yours. From now on call it Mistress's slave bathroom."

"Yes Mistress."

I went into the bathroom, not having a door already making it an uncomfortable experience, and raised the seat then began figuring out how to get my male anatomy out of the swimsuit. Just as I was about to begin I heard her voice, "You aren't about to pee like a man, are you?"

I was confused about what she meant and horrified that I had done something she didn't like so I fell to my knees and asked, "How would mistress like for her slave to pee."

"You may kneel or sit, that goes for here and everywhere else."

"Of course, Mistress." I moved so that I was kneeling in front of the bowl, with the seat up I was just tall enough for it to work.

"Hands crossed at the wrists behind you."

"Yes Mistress" That was a wonderfully submissive position that I would enjoy taking to please her.

"When you sit too. Remove the toilet seat when you are done. I will let you replace it when I am over the fact that you tried to pretend that you are still a man for a moment. Lick it clean before you put it in the garage." If someone was watching any doubt they had that that I was made to be her slave would have disappeared when they saw the joy I took in pleasing her by licking every inch of it three times to be sure it was perfect.

Mistress was relaxing on the couch, reading a book. When she heard me approach, she didn't bother to look up, she just pointed to a spot at her feet and said, "Sit." After a few minutes she began caressing herself softly. I looked away, assuming that a slave wasn't entitled to see something so beautiful. When the sounds began to take on a wet tone she said, "I want to relax while you bring me to orgasm, but I can't think of a way that would be sufficiently humiliating for a loathsome slave like you. Suggest something Bitch."

I already had an idea, "You could have me hold the larger dildo between my teeth as I pleasure you with it Mistress."

"I like that, wash it well then lick it well Slave."

The idea of allowing the slightest trace of my filth to enter her body was horrifying. I hated to make her wait but I washed it five times before I knelt before her and licked it as erotically as I could while she watched. She smiled and said, "Nicely done Slave. I don't need lubrication but put it inside me very slowly."

"Yes Mistress. I worked up my courage to ask a question, "Mistress?"

"Yes?"

"Have you always pleasured yourself so much?"

"Yes, I have. My husband was a very dear man and I still love him even if he is a walking turd, but he simply didn't have the drive or the physique to get anywhere near satisfying me."

That combination of affection and casual cruelty is devastating. I paused just a moment before I began to say, "Thank you for being so kind for so long Mistress. I don't know if it's true for you Mistress, but I have read that sometimes women lose some of the pleasure of an orgasm because they have to pay attention to not releasing their bladder. There is no reason for you to do that Mistress."

"You are a good boy, now begin." I went very slow at first, a quarter inch in then a half inch then three quarters of an inch. Once it was moving freely inside of her I sped up, that's when the real joy began, "A little faster, very good, now a little deeper. Not that deep Pig." I gave her the perfect orgasm because she directed me at every moment. She didn't release her bladder, but I was glad that she knew she could. I held it inside her as she shuddered and smiled then continued, "Slow now but firm." The second was even better than the first. She allowed me to kiss her perfect pussy just once then said, "I am going to take a nap, you may be proud of how well you relaxed me. While I sleep move everything of mine that you are allowed to wear out of my closet into my slave closet in the spare bedroom then, make my closet spotless and perfect."

It was a good thing that she took a long nap. Cleaning a closet is difficult, making one perfect takes a lot. Moving Dogshit's things out only took a few minutes but once I had I could see cobwebs in the corners, dings in the walls, poor quality hangers and to my complete dismay, a dead insect. It was a lot of work and all the reaching and moving made the tight grip of the women's swimsuit on my genitals very uncomfortable. It was the kind of chore that I would never have done for myself and a month ago if she wanted it done, I would have made her help. Today it was pure joy to do something for her that I knew I could please her with.