MY FIVE YEARS
AS A DOG
by Kai Graywolf Walser
I am finding this a difficult task, trying to relate the sum of
five years, experience devoted to pleasing my former Owner.
Those years were spent in an all-consuming effort on a journey
that was to lead me to become his dog. I did spend, Sir, the
majority of those years on all fours, having been human towards
being as completely canine as possible. I had given up all my
belongings, clothes, money, books-things I had accumulated over
26 years. Dogs have no need of such things.
I became a creature who owned nothing, yet never wanted
anything, but never went without basic essentials. I had found a
man who became my Master, my Owner, who led me to see the
pleasure of living as that special dog of his.
I was happy to
have given up my human liberty to find a better freedom to be
and exist under his control. There is a special relationship
between a man and his dog that when found is quite rare.
scratch between the ears, petting the head, that stroking of the
rump led me to a special level of understanding that I was
wanted, cared about and, yes, even loved.
I was led to the
level of understanding a dog comes to know that told me that he
owned me, my body, my mind, my soul -- that I was property, I
belonged to him.
I belonged to a man who had remarkably muscular body and carried
himself every inch a man. He stood 6'2" tall and proud. He had
an air about him that would tell anyone instantly that he
controlled his own destiny. He knew what he wanted and had a way
of getting it. There was no room in anyone's mind to question
his motives or actions. He was one when respect was earned, was
real. There wasn't anything phoney about him.
When I met him , I found him looking seriously for a pet -- a
very special kind of pet-he could mould, drive, restructure into
the kind of animal he wanted. A human pet he could degrade,
de-humanise and keep as a dog, to live as a dog on all fours, to
eat what dogs eat, to live as dogs live, to work as dogs work
(sometimes), to pleasure him and become a special source of
pride for him.
He wanted in his pet the best of two
creatures: a bit of smarts, coupled with the loyalty and
obedience of a well trained dog.
His whole demeanour suggested that nothing else would be able to
fulfil a very special part of his life. He wanted a man as a dog
and him to be kept in that state. It later became obvious that
he found a real pleasure in debasing and degrading and
And I was to learn a pleasure, free of my
former human state, more fulfilling than anything I had ever
experienced in my obscure past. I was to find that the focus of
all my attention was to be directed around his pleasure, that
when he was pleased, I was ecstatic.
I was to begin my new life afresh.
All my natural needs were
to be taken care of to the point that I could devote all my time
and energy to the activities at hand, rather than have to worry
about where my next meal was coming from. I thrived on the
attention received from him every step of the way from my
'puppy' days on. I grew in a way that only inflamed my growing
desire to please. I was to become happy only when he was
Yes, I crave once again to be chosen by a man who
would be interested in developing me further as the dog I have
become to be. I do hope that I may see one day the completion of
the process started by my former Owner finally and totally to
actualise my life as a dog.
Sir, I am not a slave per sé, though there were many components
of a slave's duties during part of my life as a dog. Obviously,
I had sexual duties to perform. But those were within a larger
construct of my everyday life.
My Owner was a respected 'S' in Philadelphia. I was to find
myself introduced to and eventually an active participant in
those kinds of activities. I was to find my own pleasure under
his control. I even eventually saw a sparkle in his eyes that
suggested I was becoming for him the animal he wanted, whom he
was beginning to take pride in.
With me, he realised what he
had set out to do and for some times shared that special
chemistry with him that brought what was once a fantasy into
live able reality.
To many my chosen life to live as a dog is probably thought to
be strange, Unorthodox as it may be, my life found contentment
and fulfilment never before achieved as a human. For too long I
had lived with needs unfilled, desires often crushed,
relationships too often one-sided and often times cruel.
is not my intentions to dwell too long on such thoughts or to
try to analyse my life in psychological terms. I can only repeat
that for the first time in my life I felt content.
Sir, I experienced my basic needs for food, warmth and shelter
from the outset of my being with my Owner. Any preconceptions I
originally had were quickly put to rest. I hadn't a thing to
worry about. I was in good hands.
I found other, deeper needs
in me being met as well. I was seeing satisfaction in my own
security, confinement, control, discipline, attention and even a
little affection thrown in. I found myself eventually where I
was no longer considered human. I lost everything from my
freedom to my previous identity.
I learned new skills. I was
taught to bark, to listen, to behave more and more on an
I found an excitement in worshipping at my
My Owner was good to me.
He tolerated no disobedience, but he
took good care of me. He devoted an awful lot of time, patience,
and energy into training me. He brought me from my puppy state
to where I was to become a functioning, responsive male dog.
I learned to trust for the first time in my life. I learned to
have confidence in the authority and the will of another who was
my Owner. I grew to respect him in a way I was never able to
give anyone ever before.
My life would be living in his household sharing his space, his
time and his attention. I was to share space with his biological
dog named Duke.
I shared Duke's kennel, the same food he was
fed, the same cages, the same leashes, and, yes, even the same
my Owner in a Philadelphia bar. I never was one to frequent the
bars. There was nothing in the bars that really held any
attraction for me.
But one day after a hard day at work. I
chose to go out and try to unwind. I felt like a drink. I went
out and was glad I did.
The bar wasn't crowded when I got there. There were a number of
good-looking guys; some dressed in various degrees of leather,
some in Western dress. Most were hot-looking. I wouldn't have
kicked any of them out of bed, believe me.
I was there about a hour or so, enjoying the music, chatting
with one or another. I was feeling rather good with myself after
awhile. I even did a little cruising on my own, Why not? I
spotted a tall, dark, muscular dude decked out in leather, with
chains hanging from the left and a drink in his hand.
wouldn't have thought anything of the situation if it hadn't
been the fact that he was staring at me. I've never even given
thought to anyone in leather outside my own fantasy world. But
here was this dude staring in my direction. I felt his eyes
piercing right through me. he made me a little nervous.
was a look on his face that invited, that prodded, that
inquired. Obviously, he wanted to talk. I grabbed my glass and
went over to him.
I wasn't expecting much of a dialog, but was pleasantly
surprised to find him to be an intelligent man who had the
ability and capacity for gentleness. He also projected an air of
authority that one didn't think about challenging. We exchanged
a few pleasantries, those superficial introductory remarks
everyone uses to break then ice.
After a short time he took
charge of the situation and directed a few questions, made a few
comments and left me eventually with the understanding that here
was someone who was far more interested in me than a mere bar
I learned his name was Phil. He was highly educated, owned his
own business, owned his own home. That night I was to learn a
hell of a lot more about this big man than I ever dreamed think
of. He suggested we go some place a little quieter, where we
Since I didn't feel threatened being with him
after we had already talked, I threw a little caution to the
wind and agreed to go with him. he had something specific he
wanted to talk to me about and the place he took me to offered
the space and atmosphere where he could lay me what he had in
mind. Here for the first time was someone who appeared genuinely
real. I was quite willing to listen to him.
I felt a mix of a little fear, a lot of interest, and a whole
lot of curiosity.
We arrived at our destination, a small little place that from
the outside looked like a proverbial dive. Actually, it wasn't
much better on the inside. There were a lot of guys here dressed
as Phil was. It was obviously a place where he was known and
felt comfortable being in.
We entered, ordered a couple drinks and walked towards a corner
that looked private enough, where we could continue out talk. he
made a move towards why he was interested in me at the bar I was
There seem to be some invisible signal I was
giving out that shouted of needs and frustrations, most of which
he picked up on. He questioned me on many things: what did I do
for a living, what I had hoped for in the future. He touched on
things only I thought were too personal too share with anyone.
he took hold of a number of fantasies he sensed were in me and
drew them out--
Then he hit me squarely with what he was looking for. It turned
out that I was going to be part of his own quest. he was seeing
me not as I was, but what he could possibly transform me into.
But the way he wanted me sent my mind racing. He wanted to own
me. He wanted me to give up my freedom and place my whole being
in his hands.
He wanted to bend me, drive me, mould me,
transform me into a dog. I thought truly I was in Bozo heaven
when he told me. I thought me crazy just sitting here listening
to all this -- he wanted to take full responsibility for the
life and well-being of me as his human dog. He was offering me a
position at his feet at the end of his leash, and eventually a
place in his heart.
I sat there dumbfounded as he spoke of some very real needs,
many of which I was feeling. He touched on a lot of things that
went deep inside me.
Yes, I had my fantasies.
envisioned myself at the end of someone's leash.
here, right now, was someone offering the whole of that to me on
a silver platter. I continued then to listen rather than
dismissing the whole idea and leave.
But the question that ran through my mind! Me? A dog? A
26-year-old who was struggling to be somebody in the world? Me?
I thought, "Is he nuts? am I hallucinating?"
He firmly but gently said, "I offer those things to you and
more to one as yourself who would be willing to live the way you
want really to live and the way I would like you to live. I am
capable of guiding and training you to realise in you that
creature within you craving to be allowed to come out and
live... you as my dog. Think about it."
Well....!! He gave me his phone number and extended the courtesy
of as much time as I wanted to think about everything we had
just talked about.
Several weeks went by. You know I really
love dogs. When I was growing up, I felt that attraction to the
family dog every young boy comes to have -- I'd play on the
floor with them. I'd go out chasing with them in the yard. I
felt a special affection for them that was different from that I
held for my own family. Yeah, they were special to me.
never dreamed of realising that I would possibly live as one of
Phil several weeks later. I asked to come by and talk with him.
I had a lot of churning feelings and a whole lot of questions
that were itching to be scratched with some answers.
He agreed to meet me at his home up North and gave me directions
on how to get there. I had to take a train from downtown centre
city to where he lived. I arrived at his home promptly at 8:00
PM, just as he suggested -- It was a large colonial structure
situated on what I thought to be about 30 acres of wooded land.
He led me through a long hallway to a den that held his large
collection of books, his awards, his writing desk. The whole
room said a man lived here by the way everything was arranged in
patterns of leather, wood, and metal.
I was fumbling in my
mind with all the questions that I had along with a whole lot of
preconceived ideas. I had to force my thoughts into some
semblance of organisation, because I desperately wanted to know
just how he would be able to help me realise those things we
spoke of earlier of being his dog.
He motioned to me to sit on the floor in front of a large chair.
He offered me a drink. I needed something to calm a few nerves.
He then proceeded with a slow and carefully thorough explanation
of his plans to take me from being what I was to where he wanted
me. I was to give up everything and belong to him. He would take
me way beyond learning what it was to be a slave. I would learn
the pleasure of contentment, lying at his feet, enjoying the
control he was soon to enjoy over me.
All I had to do, was
submit my all to him.
I had to sift through a lot in my mind; to abandon some excess
baggage of those preconceptions I seem to cling to. It was all
new to me. It took a lot before I would go after what I was
eventually did take charge of me one spring day in 1975. He
began that training he spoke of to me of. Whatever fears I had
eventually gave way to trust which paved the way to the building
of confidence that led me to respect that man. The man who was
now holding on to my leash. That respect and that spark I had
within me had developed and were flamed into an all-consuming
passion to want to please him.
I found my attitude changing through his techniques of behaviour
modification and hypnosis. I was more and more willing to do
what I was told as his reprogramming worked its desired effect
on me. I eventually began to see myself as a four-footed
creature, romping about playing and living with a freshness I
never even knew was in me. I was at peace with everyone and
everything, including myself, for the first time in my life. I
began to worship the ground my Master walked on.
I grew to
know him that fed me, who discipline me, and in whom I was
totally dependent for every thing.
I grew to know I was his.
My learning experience started with toilet training. When I had
to relieve myself, I was trained at the outset that I was to
perform those duties outside. I was taught to lift my leg to pee
and to squat in a hunch to shit. Those functions were never
going to be taken care of inside. I acted as a dog. It took some
getting used to.
It took practice before I was able to
without pissing on myself or falling over trying to lift my leg.
It was quite a sight when I kept falling backwards as I tried to
shit , falling back into the pile I was making. I learned that I
either balanced myself, or I went around being filthy. I learned
to balance. When I finally learned the technique, I got a pat on
the head and a "Good boy!" when I 'pottied' as a good
dog was supposed to.
My cleanliness and grooming were my Owner's responsibility. Once
or twice a week I got bathed and brushed. I enjoyed those
special times he showed his attentiveness. I was bathed in a
large washtub, was never hosed down as I've learned some Owners
would do to their dogs. I was grateful for his consideration and
the use of warm water. I showed my appreciation by a few barks
and a little licking his hand or face.
Sir, at the beginning of my training I was stripped of my
clothes, belongings and any ID that I had. I was shaved head to
toes and kept shaved during the entire course of my training. I
learned from the beginning that the only covering I was going to
have on my body was going to be the two-inch leather collar
around my neck and the occasional application of my dog harness.
Only after my training was complete did my Owner allow me the
privilege of wearing a fur pelt he had made for me. Only after I
had earned it did he gradually costume me so that I not only
acted like the dog I was becoming, but looked very closely like
one; complete with paws, fur, tail, and muzzle.
I wore leather paws that came off only for bathing. The paws
quite effectively prevented me from grasping at things with my
fingers. I couldn't grab at myself anymore as I had been
accustomed to prior to meeting him. The paws were quite
effective indeed, and they did make it easier to walk on all
fours. I didn't have to worry about injuring the skin on my
fingers or my bare feet. They literally forced me into carrying
myself around on all fours, for wearing them was awkward if I
ever to try standing straight up like a man I used to be.
To part of my pelt was added a long bushy tail that curved up
gently from my ass. Its length was about twenty-four inches, It
was only added after he saw complete resignation of my will to
his, once I learned and earned the right to wear it.
There were times I was taken out for show, but only when my
Master knew I would make him proud. When I was taken out, I was
the object of a lot of comments, of course. I got a lot of
petting, prodding, and examining. My tags saying I was property
of my Master were looked at. I was made to sit up, roll over.
I was talked down to as the dog I was. I was made to jump for
little treats. I glowed with a little of my own pride when I
heard those around make offers to buy me. I was thriving on
attention as was my Master. At those times I felt very proud of
what I had become And whom I was.
I learned quickly what was allowed to do as well as what things
would prompt getting my butt whipped. My Master balanced praise
with punishment and was very quick but honest in his giving out
of both. I learned disobedience resulted in pain.
that it was futile to even dare challenge his design or question
his direction. Our relationship was clear. We both knew who and
what we were and it was evident that we were both happy.
My Owner was a sadist who derived pleasure in administering
pain. He enjoyed scenes with me where he could extract the
response of a cry or yelp from me. He enjoyed his workmanship
and skill as a top. Play time was different from punishment
time. I learned early to know the difference. He enjoyed using
me and I enjoyed being used. I tried to be brave when his belt
or his whip bit into my ass or back. It took great effort on my
But I learned to accept the pain, because I was being
even further changed to a deeper and deeper levels of
understanding of the part I was playing in my man's life I began
to find pleasure in pain because it gave him pleasure.
Yes, my Owner used and abused me, but he was never really cruel.
He knew when to stop, he knew the point where he could really
hurt me, and he never did. I was his dog, a very precious
possession, and only secondary his plaything. He would never do
anything that would place me in jeopardy.
He told me an
injured dog is useless. He wanted me healthy, strong, and
responsive that I might continue to please him and be used by
me how to walk on a leash. He would take me out for walks in the
park. We both liked those exercise times. They were for us
special times shared with each other. In fact both Duke and I
would be taken out for walks each on our respective leashes. We
both shared unique position very rare when found.
I did learn that my opinion was less than nothing. Since I had
been forbidden human speech, my opinions became irrelevant. He
didn't need my opinion. Whatever I had to communicate came forth
in yips, cries, or barks. For those were the only ways I was
allowed to make myself heard.
Whatever he wanted was law. I was given commands, not requests.
I learned that his commands were well within my ability to be
followed, and I dare not resist.
I knew what behaviour gave
me pleasure and which gave me pain.
I remember one day I peed on the floor when I was in the house.
I did it on purpose.
I had an attitude on and my dog thoughts said: "I'm going to
show him!" The reaction I got I should have expected. His
response startled the hell out of me. It was quite effective. I
didn't get slapped or spanked, nor did he rub my nose in the
puddle or force me to lick it up.
But he took hold of my
shoulders and began to shake me till I thought I felt my brain
banging back and forth in my head. He gave me a verbal chewing
out full blast. He spared nothing in the string of epithets he
was pummelling me with.
He laid it on so heavy that the sound
of his disgust and his shaming did more on my psyche than any
paddling. The verbal thrashing I got plus the whack on my butt,
sent me to my cage. I never again even dared to think about
doing it again. From that point on I was a very contrite pup.
My living quarters were bare, but comfortable. I was sheltered
and kept warm.
I spent many hours in my kennel in the yard
when it was warm, sharing space there with Duke. I shared a lot
with that old retriever.
Not only his space, but meals and
even his fleas. The kennel was about twenty feet long, ten feet
wide, and about six feet high.
It had a top made of the same
chain link that the sides were constructed of.
There was no
way to get out except through a door at one end that while we
were both in the kennel was kept padlocked. A dog hutch was at
the opposite end of the run that was quite large, plenty of
space for both Duke and me to be in at the same time.
several places where we could climb up to be away from any draft
that may come in through the door.
The hutch was even heated
when the temperature outside cooled down.
Our Master worked and there were periods we were left alone with
only each other for company. Duke didn't seem to mind. It was
company for me to be with him. During the warm weather when our
Master was out, we would be locked in the confines of the
kennel. We had water, so there was no problem, Both our lives
directly revolved around our man. We were equally and totally
excited when we would hear him coming to get us, to feed us, and
allow use to be near him.
When our Master returned home, we were led back into the house,
where we were fed.
Meal time was a high point in our day. We were fed once a day
and for me, I was really hungry by the time food came around.
Our meals, both Duke's and my own, consisted of commercially
prepared dog food, either dry or canned. Duke never knew the
meaning of the word 'enough'.
And too, there were additives
in my bowl that gave me the nutrition I required that was
different from the needs Duke had.
My meals never included scraps from the table. They were
considered too human for me. I enjoyed the bill of fare that
could be poured from a bag or scooped out of a can. The only
treats I was given, if I was given anything, was out of a box
that usually had a picture of a puppy on it.
I grew to like
milk bones. Begging from the table was quickly thwarted.
learned that it did no good anyway, because nothing ever came my
I learned to be content with what I was given and I
seemed to be thriving on it -- I was even losing weight and
feeling better. I took my meals out of a bowl, not too far from
the table my Master would eat his dinner.
He made sure I ate
everything and that I licked his hand in gratitude after I
He had me licking a lot of other things, but I
won't go into those just yet.
If I refused any of the food that was put in front of me, well I
just didn't get any food that day. Phil picked up the bowl and
returned to the kitchen.
He brought it out the next day the
same feeding time.
Going without food for twenty-four hours
made sure I didn't turn my nose at what was in the bowl when it
was put down the next time.
I learned that lesson real quick;
Furniture was off limits.
If I was caught in the act of
trying to get on any of the furniture, I quickly learned not to
a second time.
The floor was my domain and that is just where
I was kept.
That was the law.
To disobey - meant pain.
When it came to sex, there wasn't anything unusual.
performed those things which was required of me. I got fucked.
I learned to be a good cock-sucker. I got fisted once or twice
in a punishment session.
I learned to drink his piss and suck
at his ass. I was gradually introduced into being his toilet.
I was prodded and driven to do and want to do anything and
everything that might give him pleasure at that moment.
own release was at the Master's design.
Since my hands were
now paws, I couldn't masturbate. I was either allowed to hump
his leg, or he would wank me.
When I came like any good
doggy, had to clean up with my tongue the mess I made no matter
where it was. But I was not often allowed my own release.
was kept primed and ready and more than willing when my Master
wanted to use me.
My Master liked bondage. He liked securing me to objects.
saw the cage he kept me in as an effective way to keep me in
But then the chain that was used as a tether did the
job equally well.
In the beginning I had thoughts of escaping, but found the house
and the kennel impenetrable. There were double cylinder locks on
all the doors in the house.
The windows were also locked And
then, too, when the Master was away I was locked up, or chained
up, and always stark naked.
Anyway, as the relationship grew
with my Owner, thoughts of trying to get away and to re-enter
the human world faded. As my attention became naturally focused,
even obsessively focused on my Master, I realised I didn't ever
want to leave.
When the days grew colder, too cold for either Duke or me to be
constantly outside in the kennel, we were brought in and I slept
in the cage that was located in the house.
Of course, there were those rare times when I was allowed into
my Master's bedroom where he would allow me to sleep at the foot
or side of his bed. I had my special place, a special rug to lie
on when I was sharing his bedroom space. I felt warm inside for
those moments when he would call my name... I would come up to
him close to where he would be lying on his bed... when he would
stroke my head, and speak softly to me, allowing me to lick his
hand and maybe his face.
I couldn't be happier.
© Kai graywolf (formally known as Kenneth Merlak) 1996
Kai Graywolf Walser