CHAPTER 1 — "A new puppy"

November 11th. 19:02h

New submissive. Twenty-one years old. Dark-skinned, with black skin as shiny as polished obsidian, dark eyes with an almost defiant intensity, curly hair with a wild shape, and thick lips that still don't know how to be silent. I met him through the Xtudr page —like many others— and from the first message, I knew he wanted something more than words. He told me he had always been active, even dominant, but lately, he couldn't stop thinking about the other side: specifically, being a dog. "I want to try it with you. Be truly submissive, a dog at your feet," he wrote. I proposed meeting a couple of times, and when he gave me the runaround, I ignored him. One message after another on the page until he started begging. Then I gave him a day and time. If he didn't show up, I would block him forever.

He arrived at the door with a confident, almost defiant step, dressed in a white tank top that accentuated his broad shoulders and tense pectorals, and ripped jeans that showed off his young flesh. His attitude was "nobody dominates me," but the evident erection in his crotch contradicted all resistance. We'll call him Neo, for now. His real name doesn't matter. He hasn't earned it yet. Maybe he never will. There are many who desire dog training and don't get past the first "woof."

19:23h

I opened the door without a word. No greeting. No smile. I made a dry gesture for him to enter. I closed the door, locked it slowly. He looked at me, swallowed. He offered me his hand, but I didn't take it. I pointed to the floor with an imperative gesture.

—On your knees.

He held my gaze, with that inflamed pride..., hesitant and slow, but obeyed. And that's all I needed.

—Do you know what it means to be a dog and undergo dog training?

—Obey without question. Eat from the floor. Lick boots...

—No. You'll do that too, of course. But it implies much more. It implies stopping being human. Stopping thinking of yourself as someone. Not thinking. Just reacting. Instincts. Just pleasing. Just living for me. Being flesh for my desire. My desire. Not yours. Do you understand?

He doubted. Of course, he understood, but he was weighing whether he was capable of becoming that.

I left him in silence. I threw him a black leather collar with a thick ring. He put it on. His eyes sparkled, but that clumsy pride, that spark, still remained, and it would have to be extinguished with patience.

19:40h

First order: undress. He did. Slowly, looking at me. Without words. It was clear he was very comfortable with that, sure that whoever was looking at him would discover a beautiful body, worked with immense surprise.

He took off his pants first. He wasn't wearing underwear. His member came out hard, between his legs, thick, veiny, curved, inhuman: almost 23 centimeters of latent dark flesh. A monstrous t...