When I hear my Master's footsteps in the hall, I wag my little tail back and forth eagerly. A little whimper of longing rises in my throat, And I try to keep it from coming out, and getting me into trouble. Master doesn't like it when I whimper. He spanks me for whimpering. Sometimes he uses a rolled up newspaper--which I hate, because of the loudness of it--or else he swats me with his hand. Either way, it shows me what a bad boy I've been, and all I really want to do is please him.
At the jangle of the key, in the door of my room, my ears perk up even more, and my body starts quivering in anticipation. I put my paws flat on the bed in front of me, and begin panting in my nearly frenzied expectation. Oh God! I can't wait! I can't wait!
I've been alone all day in this room. It's so hard now to wait any longer. I feel the whimpering start and I can't control it. I've missed him being here so much! My wide, moist, brown-eyes are fixed on the door, as I continue wagging my back end, with pure joy.
And then the door opens and I see him. I straighten my back and sit up just the way he likes me to. My mouth is open in a big sloppy smile, and a line of drool drips down onto the coverlet. My eyes feast on him. He is so strong, and tall, and muscular. I feel so proud to belong to him that I can barely stay still. I see a bag in his hand and I know he has gotten me some dinner. The bag is white, so it's probably a hamburger. Another line of drool falls from my open mouth as I think about it.
I _c_o_c_k_ my head to the side as he speaks, relishing the deep sound of his voice, and wanting to understand any instructions he has for me. "Good boy! Sparky," he says with a big smile, and I nearly collapse with pleasure. My Master's happy with me!
I stay as still as I can as he walks over to me. It's so hard to do, but I know it always pleases him. My tongue slides out involuntarily and licks at my lips as the enticing smell of the hamburger wafts over to me.
I feel his strong, warm hand on the top of my head, and strands of golden fur drop over my eyes, and for a moment I cannot see well. He runs his hand over my head and then ruffles the fur gently. "Have you been a good boy all day?" he asks in a sweet, playful voice. I wait until he puts his palm on my face, and then controlling myself as much as possible, I dart my tongue out and lick his hand once. Only once. That is how he likes his pup to behave. It's so hard for me not to bathe him with my tongue, while squirming in ecstacy at his touch, but he would be displeased, so I control myself.
The next part is the hardest part of my day--even worse than my loneliness when he's gone--because now he will look around to make sure I've been good. My gaze follows him as he looks at my water bowl, to make sure I wasn't sloppy and gotten water on the floor. He bends over looking closely. I'm panting hard now, and my heart is pounding deep withing my chest. I squirm a little as he also checks to make sure I drank from my bowl, and that the water level has gone down. When I was a new puppy, I sometimes refused to drink from my bowl, but after many swats with the newspaper, I realized I didn't have much choice. The blue porcelain bowl was something I'd learned to accept. It was my bowl, after all, and though I still liked to lap from Master's glass of water, when he allowed it, it was a special treat and I accepted it as such.
My back aches with the maintenance of my position as he checks the papers he put down before he left for work this morning. Going on the paper has been the most difficult part of my training, and one that I have rebelled against the most.
Day after day Maaster would come home and find the papers dry, and me cowering on the bed in discomfort. He would be so angry that he'd grab me by the scruff of my neck and position me for a spanking. The loudness of the rolled-up newspaper always made me yelp in fear and shame. I was afraid of his strength and control of me, and I was bitterly ashamed that he wasn't happy with me. Still, I rebelled, and the spankings went on. Then one day after many, many spankings, something released inside of me. A scary feeling of letting go overcame me. I fought against it, because it felt like if I gave into it, I would lose myself too. It was almost like the fear of dying--the terror was that strong, but as the rhythm of the loud spanks continued, I felt myself slipping into a vortex and I howled with sorrow. I realized with that howl that I had lost the battle of control a long, long time ago, I just hadn't realized it. And with that realization my body relaxed completely, and the relentless sucking of the vortex stopped and I was wafting along on gentle winds. I was free. I piddled on master as he spanked me, my release was so great, and waited for his wrath. He didn't punish me for it though. he gathered me close and rubbed the fur on my head. "That's all right, boy," he'd rumbled to me.
He is smiling down on me and opening the bag of food. A small bark escapes my throat before I know it, and I cower, afraid of a spanking, but he only laughs. He sits beside me on the bed and I know now that I'm going to get the best treat in the world. He unwraps the burger as I squirm beside him, then he takes a piece of it in his fingers and holds it to my mouth. I scarf it down, careful not to nip his fingers in the process, and wag my tail quickly from side to side. His eyes are dancing with amusement as mine are with pure happiness. I feel so lucky, and so well cared for right now. I don't have to eat from my bowl tonight! My Master is so good to me.
There is a strange young human that comes to me in dreams. A golden-haired man who seems so familiar. He wanders around looking for something to ease his pain; somewhere to belong. He never finds it, but he struggles and struggles with himself and with his place in the world. I wake up whimpering and howling sometimes, so sad, and as Master strokes my head, to soothe me back to sleep, I'm so glad that that I'm Master's puppy and that I belong to him. He tells me what a good puppy I am, and I curl myself into a ball near his feet, and go to sleep contented.