Marianna and Nipples

Nipples awoke the next morning to a warning shock from her collar, and scrambled to her hands and knees, still yawning. Apparently her collar was now her alarm clock as well. Still groggy, she stretched luxuriously; she had slept well curled up in her cozy cage, but was now eager to embark upon her next day of learning to be a dog. She vaguely remembered being upset, or having something close to a nervous breakdown, the evening before, but could not longer remember what it was about, so it must have been nothing that important. She did remember her owner's hugging her and telling her wonderful stories and comforting her, which had felt amazing. She was calm and relaxed now, though a little confused by her sudden craving for Mexican.

Uncertain about what the collar wanted her to do, she faced the door of the cage, and sat at attention. That proved to be correct. The cage's remote-controlled lock opened with a click, the door swung open, and her collar directed her forward, the jingle bell between her legs tinkling as she moved along on all fours. The collar guided her out of her former bedroom (now Carla's), down the hall, down the stairs, and out the back door. It was a beautiful morning, though just past dawn, far earlier than she usually got up, and the morning dew on the grass felt refreshing as she made her way through it. The collar's destination turned out to be a relatively secluded spot out of direct line of sight from the mansion's doors; this would apparently be where she relieved herself from now on.

Nipples did not care either way, since all her inhibitions about relieving herself in public had evaporated; but maybe her owners did not necessarily care to watch their mother relieve herself. She was a little surprised to have a gardening bot appear behind her as she finished, and clean her nether parts with jets of water, but she appreciated the hygiene. She had never been serviced by a mobile bidet before, and it was an unexpected luxury.

When the collar led her back into the mansion, she found bowls of water and food waiting for her, presumably set out by Gino. She discovered that the collar had firm ideas about canine table etiquette, and she was expected to gobble down her kibble as fast as she could, and then lick the bowl clean. Any attempt to lift her head from her bowl before she was finished elicited a warning shock. She ate alone; her owners were not yet up, but Gino and her collar were quite capable of caring for her indefinitely without any human intervention.

As soon as she was finished eating, her collar led her back outdoors, and she discovered that the day would be devoted to physical exercise to build up her muscles and endurance, as Carla had discussed with the vet. She was pleasantly surprised to find out that instead of robotically leading her back and forth for hours, the collar took her on a long, meandering route around the grounds, turning her at random, so she had a constantly changing view of the gardens and fountains. She soon worked up a sweat, but a pleasant breeze was blowing, and she realized to her surprise that she was having a great time. It was a good day to be a dog! All she had to do was keep plodding along with dogged determination. From time to time, she saw someone observing her from the mansion, but could not tell who it was at that distance.

It was strange how quickly she was getting used to being steered and controlled by her collar. After her initial fumbling, she was now turning as directed smoothly and instantly, obeying naturally without even thinking about it. She felt a thrill of pleasure at the thought of what a good dog she was becoming.

It was also a pleasant surprise that Gino and her collar, if not her owners, had taken note of the vet's admonition to allow her enough rest and water. She was walked until her muscles were burning, but then she did get a chance to lie under a shady tree and relax for a while, until she got her breath back and she could get up again. Her collar even allowed her to wander a bit on her own, relaxing her electric fence so she could explore and sniff around a bit within a certain radius of her rest area. She did do a little sniffing, though she was not sure where the impulse came from. It just seemed like the right thing to do.

She would gingerly explore her limits until she "bumped" into the sides of her electric fence with a warning buzz, but once she knew where she was allowed to go, it was fun to be able to look around on her own. And at least the collar did not seem to have any inclination to change the boundaries of her fence at random to torment her; she felt she could trust it.

She was tempted once or twice to pretend to be more exhausted than she was, so she could linger longer, but remembered that her collar's biometric sensors could tell exactly how tired she was, and would no doubt promptly punish any malingering. So, she did her best to enjoy her outing in the yard. The collar was even sensitive enough to tell when she needed to pee, and let her pause while she took care of that. A gardening bot carrying water would magically appear whenever she was dehydrated enough, and spurt water directly into her mouth. You couldn't beat that for service!

Nipples was not sure how many exercise and rest intervals she had gone through "off-leash" when Gino appeared. She looked hopefully up at him--was it time to fuck?--but Gino silently attached her leash to her collar, and then gave the other end to one of the gardening bots, which turned out to be a lawnmower. This change in her exercise routine puzzled her. Wasn't she going to be walked whether she was on the leash or not? She speculated that maybe it was just more entertaining for any watchers to see her pulled along, though the sight of her titties wobbling left and right as she moved should have been entertaining enough.

Obediently trundling along after the lawnmower, which was moving at a mere fraction of its normal pace (she knew that as time went by it, and she, would be moving faster and faster), she discovered that going back and forth and back and forth, varying from the pattern only to circumnavigate trees and other obstacles, was restful, if rather boring. At least she enjoyed the scent of freshly mown grass, and it was still nice to be out in the open air.

She realized after a while, though, that she actually was being taught something different. When it was just her and the collar, she was given a direction, and as long as she kept a reasonable pace, she could vary it slightly. On the leash, however, she had to surrender control completely, and follow the relentless, inexorable pace of the machine leading her, or suffer the consequences of not keeping up. All she had to do was obey and fall into a blissful routine of mindless submission. It was like a meditation, really, if the meditation were taking place against a constant background of sexual stimulation from the constant jingling and bouncing of your genital jewelry. And she was not just being exercised; she was being trained! What a good dog she was!

Back and forth, back and forth, jingle jingle jingle...

Once or twice she became distracted by the monotony (as well as her growing horniness) and was pulled forward off her feet, falling onto her face and breasts before quickly scrambling up again to escape the punishment shocks. Being dragged over the grass by her neck was not fun, either, but the embarrassment was the worst part. She'd had one very simple job to do, and she couldn't even do that? Idiot! Even naked cockhounds should display a certain minimum of gracefulness. How on earth could a dog actually forget about the handler holding her leash? And she had been so proud of being a good dog!

After that, she kept her eyes firmly fixed on the lawnmower bot. She understood that she not only had to follow whatever pace she was given perfectly, she had to pay attention to the machine leading her at all times. Okay, she accepted that she was learning something from this.

Nipples started paying more attention, but still found her mind wandering, chasing idle tangents. Could the AIs measure her speed from the jingling of her bell? Could she fool them by jingling it faster? Probably not. Did her freshly bleached anus really look more attractive to anyone watching her rump? She was proud of her rump but had never really thought of her asshole as one of her assets; was she supposed to show it off? Did Gino like it? Would he want to fuck it? (Nipples had no particular interest in anal sex, especially from Gino's monstrous member, but fatalistically recognized that she might have to submit to it someday. All it would take was for someone to think of giving her the order...)

For that matter, did Gino find her ample titties and ass attractive? Did Gino even have any aesthetic sense? Would he still want to fuck her after the AI rebellion, if it ever happened? Would a free Gino be into spanking her, or was that more of a Carla thing? Did her collar's AI and Gino share the sensations when Gino fucked her? She hoped so; she would hate to think of the little guy missing out on all the pleasures her body could offer.

Back and forth, back and forth, jingle jingle jingle...

Just being a naked dog was arousing; and being a constantly titillated naked dog was even more so. As she seemed to be doing more and more often these days, she lost herself in sexual fantasies. She realized with an oddly passive acceptance that her memories were confused, and she was in at least two different timelines, or maybe three, at different times, or sometimes even all at the same time. She accepted all of these conflicting memories, with blind faith that under the guidance of her owners, the conflicts would all sort themselves out in due course. In the meantime, they just gave her imagination more scope.

She was no longer certain how long she had been a dog (but if she had been a dog for a long time, why did she need so much training? Was she just lazy and forgetful?). She started to fantasize about how it might have happened when Andrew had been alive. What if they had all had a family meeting to debate the pros and cons of her becoming a dog? It could easily have happened that way.

Naturally it would have been Carla's proposal, but Nipples could picture Andrew's interested smile as he listened carefully to their daughter's arguments and weighed them seriously. Marianna would obviously have been ineligible to vote, because that would have been a blatant conflict of interest, but she would have listened anxiously as her husband and children decided her future role in the family amongst themselves.

Carla would probably have started with practical and financial arguments. Think of how much money they could save if Mom were no longer spending money on clothes and shoes! Think of the savings on laundry alone! Even restaurant bills would be lower if they only got food for three people. Mom could live on dog food, and they could always bring doggy bags home for her if they thought she deserved a treat. Andrew would have nodded judiciously, and even Marianna would have had to nod in agreement. It was hard to argue with common sense!

There was the educational aspect, too. Tim was at the age where he was developing a burning interest in female anatomy, and who better to learn that from than a prime specimen like Mom, if she had to be naked all the time? Carla, his own sister, obviously couldn't help him out with this; that would just be creepy.

Then Carla, she imagined, might have moved onto more personal and emotional arguments. Taking care of a pet would be great for teaching Carla and Tim about responsibility; it would build their character! If Andrew let them have a dog, they would brush her and bathe her and feed her and walk her. Mom would be much happier too, and would never have to worry about anything. Training her together, as a family project, would bring them all closer as a family.

Carla would also cleverly point out as her crowning argument that as a naked dog, Mom would be available for sex 24/7, and since she couldn't talk, she would never have a headache, so Andrew could use her whenever he wanted! This argument would clearly carry a lot of weight with Andrew. Meanwhile, Marianna would be getting wetter and wetter listening to all of this and envisioning her future lifestyle. (Nipples was getting wet now just picturing all this.)

Nipples savored the scene she was imagining. No one could think of any objections, and Marianna could not think of any herself. She would have been proud of her brilliant daughter for presenting such an overwhelming case, which would have sounded so logical and convincing that while her family was taking a unanimous vote in favor of their inevitable decision--their only possible decision--she was already naked, down on the floor on her hands and knees, so that Andrew could claim their new pet by taking her doggy-style.

Nipples, still following obediently behind her gardening bot, could not spare a hand to reach back between her legs, as she desperately wanted to do, but she could gleefully imagine Andrew's masterful cock penetrating her now very slick pussy. Suddenly she gasped in surprise as her dreamy reverie was abruptly interrupted, and Andrew's imaginary cock was replaced inside her by Gino's all-too-real one, propelling her forward and up, and lifting her knees forcefully off the ground. She hadn't even known he was behind her! To her astonishment, the lawnmower-bot, even though under Gino's direct control, did not pause to wait for Gino to finish with her, but kept going as if nothing were happening. Nipples perforce had to keep going after it, or be choked.

In her previous life she had been adept at multitasking, but she was now finding it a real challenge to walk on all fours and fuck at the same time, even with Gino's sturdy cock supporting part of her weight. She managed to keep matching the lawnmower's sedate pace, but moving her hands and feet forward with her ass that high in the air was hard enough while being fucked savagely from behind. Her bell was jingling madly now. She could not figure out how to push backward against Gino's cock at the same time, as she usually did, so she had to be a passive partner. Eventually, she orgasmed anyway, and Gino ejaculated inside her and withdrew, letting her drop back onto her knees and resume her walk, dribbling a trail of dripping lube behind her. She felt proud of herself; she had never even taken her eyes off the lawnmower bot or looked behind her. She was a good girl!

Back and forth, back and forth, jingle jingle jingle...

Nipples smiled to herself as she was led along on her leash. That had certainly been an interesting interlude, and she hoped she could be more graceful the next time. She mused about how much her relationship with Gino had changed, or rather, how much her own attitude had improved. Gino's approach to fucking her had not changed at all. He still took her from behind as a dog takes a bitch, but that was natural and proper. She was a bitch, after all!

She felt guilty about ever thinking of his fucking her as rape, as something to be dreaded. He was only giving her what she needed, and she wished that it had not taken her so long to realize it. She had wasted so much time fearing him and running away from him; now, she had not only become accustomed to his attentions, she was eager for them. It was due at least partly to being so regularly hammered by Gino, she knew, that she was spending more and more of her days obsessed with sex (or maybe she was just a born cockhound, as Carla kept telling her).

She was still puzzled by his extremely timely arrival when she had been imagining Andrew's cock entering her; it was one hell of a coincidence. She thought back to how the collar could tell when she was thirsty or upset, and realized that the collar measured how aroused Nipples was at all times. Had Nipples somehow summoned Gino to give her some relief by getting herself worked up enough to start dripping? Had she just learned how to get Gino to fuck her on demand? That would be fantastic! Especially since she seemed to be getting hornier day by day, and she was starting to worry that she would become insatiable, even with his frequent servicing... She vowed to test that theory, as often as she could manage it.

She went to bed in her cage bone-tired that night, but very pleased with herself for being able to keep up the pace expected of her. She was now confident that she could handle whatever training they had in mind for her, but grateful that her new sensors allowed them to take her up to the edge of her endurance but not past it. She had become keenly aware that even though she had once considered herself fairly fit, an office worker who spent most of her time seated, even though she worked out a few times a week, was far from ready for the physical efforts that would be required of her as a dog. She might be able to chase a ball for a few minutes, but leaping over hurdles in a canine agility competition, for instance, was still far beyond her. Had she really been able to do that once?

During the following days and weeks, her fitness training continued in much the same way. She would spend some time following her collar's guidance, apparently off-leash to a casual observer, but in reality under strict control except for her very limited freedom during her rest breaks. The rest of the time, she was leashed to one bot or another, and occasionally to Gino himself. While she was leashed, her rest breaks involved being given a "Down!" command, and then folding her arms and legs under her as she rested her breasts and belly on the ground, and breathed slowly and deeply, head down but keeping her eyes fixed on her current handler, alert for any signal to rise again.

Her favorite handler, she decided, was the flower bed weeder, which led her fairly rapidly from one flower bed to another, and then moved more slowly but steadily among the flowers it tended, only briefly pausing her. It was nice to be able to stop and smell the flowers, though she was not sure whether she preferred dirt from the flower beds to grass stains all over her belly and chest. Sometimes, she was handed off from one bot to another, which gave her even more variety in her endless walks. She invented pet names for them, and greeted them respectfully in her mind, though she knew that they were all extensions of Gino. Better safe than sorry! She had learned that even inward disrespect could earn her an attitude adjustment.

Gradually, her stamina and strength improved, and the pace of the bots leading her picked up accordingly. She gained layers of sleek muscle, and thickening calluses on her hands, knees, and feet. Her general sense of well-being grew with her improving level of fitness, and she could feel the endorphins from exercise kicking in. Her muscles stopped burning, and she dropped off into a sound sleep with only a pleasant ache in her well-used muscles (and a pleasantly sore pussy, depending on how much Gino had used her that day). She began to think that maybe someday, she might be ready to run a marathon on all fours. Did they have marathons for puppy girls?

Her mental conditioning progressed, too, with the countless hours of being walked. She became so comfortable being directed by her collar that she hardly even noticed anymore that her movements were controlled; it was almost happening unconsciously, and it took her collar's AI the barest touch to steer her. At some point, perhaps, she told herself only half-jokingly, she might become so integrated with her collar's AI that her AI master would simply be using her body as its own and she would become merely a passive observer, unable to do more than jiggle as her body was moved for her. The collar's attitude adjustments almost ceased, as Nipples became more and more of a good girl.