Pet-rified

She used to corner me in the basement of her parent's house on holidays. I always took her forwardness as a thrill but certainly didn't show this to her, especially since she was two years my junior. Our parents had been friends for years and as a result, we were expected to socialize during whatever gatherings brought our two units together while the adults upstairs did their know-it-all adult thing. I'd enter their invitingly warm ranch-style house, wind my way down the long, dark staircase and immediately be lept upon by Muffy (yes, this was indeed her name). She'd grab me by the hand and with that signature spunky girl energy i've always been addicted to, she'd incessantly ask:

"Can we play? Can we play? Can we play?"

I knew exactly what sort of game she wanted to play, and of course i consented. She wanted to be my puppy, and i would spend the entire evening training her to perform all sorts of tricks, giving her food from a dish on the floor, scolding her when she misbehaved and taking her on walks (a "leash" attached to a "collar", of course). I'm not sure if our parents understood the thrill this exchange gave to both of us, but i remember them thinking it quaint and adorable, which acted as a tacit encouragement for us to continue to indulge in it. Years later, once Muffy and i had succumbed to the guilt and insecurity of our awkward teenage years, our interaction became a bitter and tense source of contention despite the sheer intimacy we shared during our childhood play.

I don't know where she is any more, so i have no way of finding out if our episodes had as profound an impact on her as they did on me. Speaking for myself, the idea of taking a girl and turning her into a pet sends shivers up and down my entire backside. I thrill at the opportunity to treat this girl in such a way that she consents to the idea of becoming my loyal animal companion. Starting from the innocuous female canvass, introduce a collar, add some bows and a bell, remove all of her clothing, tape her hands into the shape of paws (to negate her opposable thumbs) then direct her towards her cage. There, at the completion of this ritual, you have, on your hands, a non-human participant, stripped of her autonomy, trapped inside the obedient posture of a domesticated animal - this is different than my often sought after transformation of turning a girl into a doll. Instead of reimagining her in the way that fits my physical aesthetic as an object, as my pet she is wild, a lifeform with bombast and energy wholly realized as an inhuman creature seeking my guidance and direction.

And before some of you make the conclusion i suspect you will, let me pre-empt by saying this never entered the realm of bestiality. I am not reacting to her as if she were a natural-born canine, but in fact a person who knows she's a person but for the moment is acting animalistic. In the past when i've done this with a partner, if coitus occurred, it wasn't a man fucking a dog. That's not the kind of pet she's become. Here she's delicate, small, fragile and vulnerable, but without the ability to speak or interact on a human level. I can treat her with kindness or a firm hand, demand things from her that two humans wouldn't logically request. I could keep her and treat her as an innocent play thing, or with great exuberance and a growing fire inside of me, make her my slutty pet, my naughty puppy, my hungry little animal.