The husky and the mistress

Please keep in mind that I am against sexual contact on real animals and that this story I wrote is about a human submissive that I dressed as my husky pet...

Half wolf half, domesticated dog (my human pet which I named Husky), with a salt and pepper thick coat of fur. I am rather bipolar, there are two sides of me. Part of me had always craved the ownership of a Master and a Mistress.  The wolfen, part of my bloodline, was however, somewhat untamable, and infinitely wild. With the desire to gallop, free through the Alaskian Tundra. 

To tell you the truth, I was a quivering, nervous little puppy that craved guidance and strict discipline.  This had always been my true, lifelong dream. For as long as I could remember. In order to survive in her region of Alaska. One would need, both the passion for adventure, as well as a submissive nature. We had to follow the strict hand of our owner’s. This was her reality. Two incredibly necessary evil’s, for winter survival on her icey frozen empire. Everything was frozen, constantly covered in a white blanket of crystal sparking white snowflakes, and ice. In such a brutal, real, frozen, Female dominated cold world. In negative degree temperatures. We learned that we must always please her, if we wanted to stay warm. Only the obedient would survive in this harsh climate. She was strict, and often short tempered and cruel, so for that reason, along with the rigid climate...  only the strong and subservient would survive. 

All of Mistress’s dogs, wolves, and slaves, would grovel at the foot of her icey home.  They would come far and wide to seek her guidance, magic and wisdom. She was a true eshe was angry), and not a living thing around her, would dare challenge her decisions. Her power was unmatched, a warrior Goddess. At times, women would come to try to challenge her mystical power’s. Mistress, would undoubtedly destroy them, if they would not submit. 

I often would watch in the background in astonishment. A confidently opposing woman, would be transformed from challenging her power… to pathetically licking the dirt and snow from her spiked pvc boots. She once for sample: enslaved a local eskimo girl, to lace up her high heel boots from her feet to her upper thigh. Since she thought the girl looked a bit like Bjork, and would be a good addition to her silvery blue, iced out home. As she taught these gorgeous female human’s to obey to her mighty feminine strength. 

The other dogs and I, often gazed in amazement, as Fetish Dolly. Relaxed in complete confidence, on her chair molded perfectly, of thick cold ice. As she knew she was the one and only Empress of kink. Mistress was rather monochromatic, she wore only the colors black and purple. With black cateye liner she had permanently tattooed around her eyes. Which looked enchantingly witchy with her ivory pale skin.

 Her favorite coat was a luxuriously thick/soft black real rabbit fur jacket. Manufactured and hand stitched to perfect, by her slaves, using pelts that she had her wolves and dog’s hunted and delivered back to her home. The inside of Mistress’s jacket was of real dark royal purple satin. Everything she wear was simply timeless. That of a gothic Victorian warrior Princess. Her favorite jewelry set, was pure silver to match the ice in her Queendom. Her icey accident diamonds would shine so bright, it was hard to look in direct sunlight. But the most unique mineral in her matching jewlery set (fit of a queen) was the many iridescent black antique opals. They changed color, black and forth like a rainbow chameleon with a black background.  Mistress, stood only five feet, six inches tall naturally. But with her 8 inch heel’s she often wore, she towered over even her silly little husband. We call her, the Queen of the arctic tundra. As she owned, every living thing, on the land we lived on. Her ownership was endless, as far as the eye could see, she owned property for miles and miles. 

Often, I would watch pathetically, as men like dogs, would come from miles around to bring her gifts and serve her. This was Fetish Dolly’s land, as she was the Empress of all we had ever known. 

On this particular day. The snowflakes were slowly were slowly floating down. Pretty similar to the way this wandering dog found himself. He was a bit of a loner, a rebel. He did not run with a particular pack. In fact, some would call him a bit of a slut actually. He would run with different packs of wolves. 

When he was a young pup, he had a human owner named Sebastian. His first Master, called called him Voyla. Very often he would dream about those days, over 10 years ago. Before his first owner passed on to another spirit dimension. He would dream of being at his Master’s side, wearing his spiked leather harness. Those were incredibly simple. Sure, he would still be a wanderer, he was a slut for the raw meat the nearby native eskimo tribe would often give his leftovers. Being half wolf, he would love being pet by the many men and women of the tribe’s nearby. But always, he would go back to his Master. 

Since his Master would often breed him with bitches, to make more sledogs. He was the stud, but somehow still submissive to his Master. He learned strict training from his owner’s from a young age, that was how he was domesticated.

His biological wolf Mom suffered from a mental illness that made her wander away from his brothers and sisters.  The sad story of my biological Mother, must have been a result of the inbreeding she had to deal with as a wolf. She was wild, she lived to roam with her pack. She was a hunter, his biological Mother did not have a parental bone in her body. So he wandered, looking for love. 

So we were all adopted by our homosapien. At first, our anxiety took over, we had seen how humans would hunt and kill ANY species that would get in their way. But I loved how they learned just like the local native’s to use every last body part of the wild animals they would hunt. Down to their eyeballs, as that part of the prey had the most concentrated nutrients and protein per square inch. With the brutal and skilled hunting, and fishing tool’s my owner’s had bought and constructed. The couple, was even more fruitful in their big-game hunting. But my Mistress was far sharper than her male associate in hitting her target.

Like a huntress, Mistress surpassed in speed and accuracy, like a wolf! Her hair was in braids, to keep it under her parka made of rabbit fur. She was the one, I would admire the most. As she was petite, skinny and uspectigling talented in survivalism. They were both retired from the army, the jagcore. That is when they met and got married. But they went on to a more sustainable life. She went from the cheerleading squad back in high school. To the Captain of her green berets, she fought in the frontline of our country in Iraq. That is probably were she learned to dominate real life G.I Joe’s who were twice her muscle and size. Men love to be Dominated by a beautiful woman, above all else of humanity. Her hair was long and red. They both had not had a haircut in over 10 years. Hair, layers of fur and the most body hair possible, is a life or death thing at below zero temperatures. 

My Master had long hair, pulled into a ponytail. He was at the age of 55, tall and most likely part viking at 6 foot 2 inches tall.   They took us into their warm cabin, and they bottle fed us. Until we were fat and could chew the raw meat they would kill and hunt to make us all the more dependent on them as humans. He lived to be dominated, owned, he was submissive and sweet. But only to his wife! He remembered how sweet it was for my brother’s and sister’s to be bottle fed by our adopted human Mother and Father. They were both a love, Vold, only felt twice in his lifetime as a partly domesticated hound. But the wolf in him, always kept him hungry for the wild, hunger for adventure as well. 

I had a sexual drive, with many bitches in my pack. My pack as a sled dog. Serving both my owner’s. I remembered the sound of his jingling bed. As I ran through the feet of snow. This was what I was sincerely bread to be of service. Being whipped by my two Dominant owner’s. I was trained, both physically, mentally, and sexually, and consciously lived a life of chastity. His owner’s were the old one with the key. They kept me collared with a tag with their name and number. I was only allowed to release himself sexually. When my owners undid my lock and key. How often was I granted such luxuries? This all was calculated by Master’s Domineering wife and Mistress. They met in the army. He had served her sexually and physically since the day they both collided. Two souls made for each other, and I was made to serve them as their slave dog. It was a rather odd relationship between us all, very codependent, strangely you might say. Between two species, but it was not considered beastiality, as until Master passed away, I had never engaged in sexual activity with Mistress. Sebastian was submissive to his young Fetish Dolly. I served them both and was trained better than any other canine in my pack. As time went on, I took a deep subservience equally to my Master and his Mistress. 

Admitabally, I did have homoerotic thoughts. Like most dog’s and male’s do. Very often, to be completely upfront with my bisexuality. Like like Master, he would watch his Mistress force him to get pimped out for extra dollars on the side. It would feed all of us. Fetish Dolly would make him wear a butt plug, and would train her husband’s ass hole often. She trained him to cum, strictly from his ass by stimulating his G spot, while he was tormented in chastity. She had a loud, giggle and childlike laugh. As she would enjoy deeply her power and control over us both. It was that of a Mistress and servant. It was a lifestyle for us all.

I would often dream of what it would truly be like, to get Dominated as he saw his Master. His Master was a slave to his Dominate wife Fetish Dolly. She was pin-up french and native american bombshell. With long hair, and bright copper brown eyes that matched her hair perfectly. But her eyes had an alluring darkness and hunger for control. This was rare for any female. Although, funny enough, she was 15 years younger. She was into BDSM, which to her, stood for Bondage, Domination, Submission and Masochism. He would watch his Daddy get a strap-on and her rubber cock would get larger and larger. She had her husband completely whipped. We both were down to our very core. 

She would blackmail him with the sex tapes she would make. If he ever dared to try to dream of wandering. Males are sluts by nature she would yell. If we are not constantly kept under lock and key. And trained to submit on the regular to our kind, compassionate, but mentally intense/crazy Mistress.

She had to construct a hand that you would not want to cross, it was a survival technique. And being those slut’s and whore-like males by nature. If it were not for her training. We would fuck any hole we would see fit. To be deeply honest, we craved the feminine control. That is the nature of male’s and their perverted silly ways. I would envy his life in the bedroom. I would watch them at the foot of the bed, very closely, very curious, just like most dogs do.

We would both gladly give into to her upfront and honest guidance as she was an expert humilatrix. She probably got this from being a Captain in a squad or hyper masculan men. She was deeply degrading verbally and physically. She called her husband a sick little cocksucking whore. She often would let me lick her stinky feet! If I was a good little dog. Her sweat would drip down her leg and feet as we sat by the warmth of the fire. After a long day living all the land. I would submit in nature, and not just for her food. For her sweet sweat and fragently female scent. She had us brainwashed to the core. As there were not many female human’s in the Northern arctic tundra. No women were as tough as our Mistress. The beautiful cabin/home that was built. As built and constructed by her strict whip. Similar to the days before Christ in the bible, when the slaves built the pyramids. Life is suffering, we lived to serve. We needed that structure as insignificant, stupid silly males. She trained me like the pathetic dog that I truly was, deep down inside. Behind my fur and pounds of evolutionary muscle. 

Often at night I would hear my Mistress cum, as she would wear a unique special kind of strap on. And the smell of her sweet human pussy would overwhelm me completely. At special times, she would kick me off, the bed. She was a wrath that you do not try to provoke, when it came to her Dominant rage. But she was perfect, beautiful and one of a kind. She she kicked me off for the roughest training on her husband.  I would be forced to kneel subservantly at the floor and watch them have sex together. She was always on top and in charge. At these specific times, Mistress Fetish Dolly, desired space to be extremely rough with her bitch boy. She would frequently make him cum in his own face. Or a crystal clear wine glass. The white cum and yellow color mixed together with a pungent smell. She yelled at her husband to drink her golden nectar, and his own cum. After she squatted in the same glass over the bathtub. She would witness her silly sub bottom boy of a man drink it up to the last drop. She would constant exert her complete control. She would frequently demand this kind of incredibly odd behavior. Until it became normal and a ritual for us both. 

Admitably, she was an extremely artistic and creative Dominatrix. She would use a double ended strap on, on him. One that would give her pleasure physically and concurrently when she would fuck her submissive/pretty little husband. Like me, he was a pretty boy, had religion not gotten to his sexuality. He might have been bisexual. Just like us dog’s who sniffed butts for a greeting, and were ever so homoerotic. The two of us, lived infatuated by her strength.

We lived in a cabin, one that my Master built with his Father and their own two hands. Sebass was a man’s man. He was the last of his kind. I watched his hair turn from salt and pepper black and white (similar to my own coat of fut. To be completely white, he was once naturally blonde. Like me, he had one blue eye, one slightly green. So unique, and rather wild in nature. I think that is the reason why we were trained so strictly. Our Mistress would spank us, hit us, and boss us both around on the regular. She was one of those spicy human women. She was french, and must have been naturally flowing with her higher testosterone herself. She was bossy, similar to any overbearing female.

Mistress would train us both with strict Catholic discipline. As it was all she had ever known until she turned 17 and a half. She was raised by her Dominant older Mother. Her Dad was submissive, shorter, and younger. So as most phycology would have it. She replicated what she saw in her childhood. Her Father was less sexually experienced than her Mother. So she knew that all males needed to be trained like the dog’s they were by nature. We followed gladly.

When my Master finally passed. She used her witchy wiccan ways to magically transform me into a human with spell. From then on, I lived out my lifelong fantasies at last. It was like living in a fantasy of and my body was reinvented, with the same soul. I came fully trained, as her twenty year old slave. From the 17 years to come, I served her alone. For her magic skills, I was forever greatful to live many more years together. At last, we lived happily ever after. I served her sexually. I did the cooking and cleaning, like a dog in heat. Whatever to please Mistress. After all, I knew that she had the power to torment me. Or even more terrifying, she had the power to make me disappear, and feed my flesh to the wolves.

There would not be a bone left in site. And no evidence of the crime. If I ever got out of line. Just like my Master had done to him, willingly, when he was suffering from major alzheimer's disease. But I lived to serve her. Until she passed as well. And I became then a wanderer of the wilderness. Like I am today. I am a lost soul indeed.  But now I dream of my human family at night. As they were my home, my original pack. Never again will I be so faithful to others. As they were all I ever had truly known. For so many centuries. Fetish Dolly had gladly died of old age. And I made her smile and laugh until the end. Forever my love, for my Master and Mistress owner’s. Until I see them again, all dogs go to heaven after all.