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Copyright 2006 Rachael Ross all rights reserved
Story Code: Dog+/F, M/F, elements of BDSM, Piercing

This is the final chapter of Part 1

Dare
by Rachael

Chapter 11

I'd come down with a pneumonia, or so I was told, and I was
distinctly uncomfortable lying in my Master's bed. I had little
choice though, my Master made all my decisions and I lived with them.
The doctor visited me often, every 2 or 3 days for very nearly two
weeks and I think he wanted to remove me to a hospital, but reluctantly
agreed that I would recover well enough in my Master's bedroom if we
were careful and attentive.

I felt weak and I had fevers coming and going, coughing spells at
night, and I was unhappy and lonely, missing my brothers terribly.
Master was good company though, and he spoiled me, worrying over the
weight I was losing and spoon feeding me soup and warm milk or hot
chocolate and toast occasionally.

We had little to do except sleep and talk. Master would read to me,
which I enjoyed because I'd never been much of a girl for books and
it was strange to find that I enjoyed the stories Master would read
each afternoon. I especially found Hemingway to be stimulating for some
reason, listening with rapt attention while I imagined the scenes and
characters in 'For Whom the Bell Tolls' and while I didn't really
understand the story, I understood well enough the feelings behind it
and I would cry sometimes so that Master would put his book down and
lie down beside me, holding me until I stopped.

The talks we had were simple ones really, nothing more than everyday
conversations that anyone might have. He would tell me about my
brothers, or about his work being a lawyer for the Indians. I would
tell him how much I missed being outside and I tried to persuade him to
take me for walks, but of course he wouldn't. Master barely let me
out of bed for the first week, and I really was pretty sick then
anyway.

It seemed a long time before the doctor finally pronounced me healthy
again, although he seemed somewhat doubtful. Not about my body, which
he said was remarkable, but more over my mind I suppose. He also found
that remarkable, but not in an admirable way, not like he appreciated
my body. He didn't understand why I would want to live the way I did,
nor did he appreciate my piercings, especially the ring in my pubis,
although he could find no flaw with it. All my piercings had healed
perfectly, the way my body was recovering quickly and almost
effortlessly from the infection in my lungs and the deep cuts along my
sides.

I was even regaining weight as my appetite had returned with a
vengeance. I felt fat and lazy by the time the doctor paid his final
visit and I was anxious to get back to my own room and exercise with my
brothers. The days were growing warmer and I missed the sun and my
morning baths. But my Master didn't let me go right away, he kept me
in his room even after the doctor had agreed I was fine.

"No, lie back down, Dare." My Master told me after he'd shown the
doctor out.

I was on my feet; shrugging out of the nightgown I'd been forced to
wear for the doctor's visits. I didn't like the way it felt,
seeming to cling to me. And the panties as well, felt constricting and
unwelcome. The tightness of the waistband around my body chafed my
skin. Master had bought them for me soon after he'd moved me to his
bedroom, but I hadn't really understood the reason. He'd removed my
collar as well and I wanted it back more than anything else. When he
told me to lie down, and didn't retrieve my collar immediately, I was
confused and slightly annoyed. I did as I was told though, wondering
what this was about.

Master removed his clothes as well then, undressing while I watched and
I thought I understood finally. He desired me, that was all, perhaps as
a woman, even though it seemed to me that I was much more attractive as
a dog. Still, the idea of my Master wanting me was a tonic to my nerves
and I relaxed, smiling just a little as I waited for him.

He did make love to me then and it was much as I remembered it to be in
my previous life. Master was quiet and gentle, touching me all over and
spending his kisses on my body as if I were a real woman. He kissed my
breasts, sucking and teasing my nipples while I writhed and cradled his
head. It was good like that, the sucking part especially, but I missed
the rough tongue of my brothers and the way their sharp teeth grazed my
flesh when they kissed my breasts.

Master fingered my sex and kissed his way down there as well, using his
mouth on me and it was pleasurable, but I confess I made more noises
than I needed to. It was so unlike my brothers, it seemed Master's
tongue was too small for me, barely able to slip between my labia and
it was impossible for him to delve deeply between my folds the way I
liked. So I pretended it was good, imagining myself with Bandy, or
Bush, and remembering the way they would lap at my sex until I was
quivering with pleasure.

When my Master made love to me it was enjoyable only because I had so
much devotion for him. I felt very little really, although I was tight
enough for him I think, having not been fucked for several weeks. I
moved with him, lifting my hips and wrapping my legs around Master's
waist, moaning and gasping at the right moments and clutching him to me
when he came, wishing I might have cum as well, but I didn't. I
wanted too much to return to my room and I felt uneasy about that,
guilty for being so selfish.

"You don't have to go back..." Master said.

We were laying side by side, him on his back and me on my right side,
facing him with my arm over his chest and my leg on his thighs. I could
feel his sperm leaking out of me and it seemed there was very little
there.

"I don't want to go back." I answered, wondering why I would ever
want to leave him or my brothers.

"I mean to the other room." He was looking at me. "You could stay
here, in the house with me. If you want to."

I frowned at that, unable to hide my instant frustration at
misunderstanding what he'd said. And now I didn't know exactly what
he meant. Did he mean to say I could stay with him as a woman? Living
in his house, wearing clothes, talking all the time, watching
television, and all the things I'd never missed? Or did he mean I'd
be his house pet, a dog who could lay on the furniture and sleep at the
foot of his bed every night? Would he let me out every morning to run
with my brothers? Or would I be trapped inside, looking out the window
and barking uselessly at every car that passed by?

"What do you mean?" I asked, swallowing hard and fearing the
answer.

"I...I don't know..." Master shook his head and that too made me
frown.

I didn't need a Master who was unsure of himself, who couldn't
command me, and that was an unhappy thought. One that had never
occurred to me before.

"I was married before." He said quietly. "She...died, a long time
ago. She was sick and it was...hard. I didn't..." He was searching
for words and talking more to himself than to me, I thought. "...I
was young and I had to work and seeing her like that, getting worse
everyday."

I hugged him, pressing my body to his and my face against his neck,
kissing him softly.

"I couldn't do it, go there to the hospital every day. So I worked,
I just...worked." He was moving his hands while he talked, but not
looking at me. "She was dying and I was waiting, wanting it to be
over."

"It's okay." I whispered, not knowing what to say, but wanting to
comfort him somehow.

I thought I understood then, just a little. He'd been trying to make
up for that other woman, caring for me while I'd lain there sick in
his bed. He'd been almost obsessive in his attention, always with me,
sleeping in the chair beside me so that whenever I opened my eyes I'd
seen him. I hadn't appreciated that sort of attention, that level of
devotion. I'd just expected it, I suppose, and I imagined his dead
wife had expected it as well. My Master seemed to think so and there
was little I could do to comfort his guilt except listen.

He told me about her, remembering some of the details and forgetting
others, so that he'd purse his lips and grow angry with himself until
he recalled something else. It was good for him I think, to say those
things, to release the feelings he'd bottled up inside for nearly 20
years. They needed to come out and when he'd finished we made love
again and it was better then, for both of us and I did have a small
orgasm right at the end when his sperm filled me once more.

But I couldn't stay, not like he was thinking, and I don't think he
really wanted me to. He'd grown attached to me, as people sometimes
did with pets, or anything else they cared for. He'd invested a lot
of emotion in my recovery, transferring his unfulfilled obligation to
his dead wife upon me, and it had been confusing for him, that's all.
He'd forgotten that I wasn't her, I wasn't his wife, I was his
dog, his Dare. That was all. He could love me, and care for me, and do
with me as he wished, but only in that way. If he tried to change me
back into a girl, we'd lose everything. I could sense it clearly and
so could he, once I explained myself.

"How did you get so smart all of a sudden?" He was smiling, teasing
me.

"I guess my boat fell in the water, or something." I giggled.

"Is that right?" He stroked my hair and sighed a little.

"It's not very deep though." I shrugged, "I think my oar's
scraping the bottom."

"Or more like you've been playing with everyone." He made a
little face, as if he could finally see the real me.

"I really am a dog you know." I said, running my tongue over my
upper lip. "Like a wolf, I think, wild."

"I know." Master nodded slightly. "The Indians think so,
Whitecloud and the others."

"Can I have my collar back?" I asked a little nervously, because I
was really asking him if I could go back to the way I was before I got
sick.

"Soon." He smiled and kissed me on the lips. "I sort of like
having you in my bed."

"You're my Master." I smiled back. "You can have me sleep
wherever you want." I paused. "Just don't make me wear that
underwear again, okay?"

Master laughed softly. "Then don't get sick again. I'll build a
little bathroom just for you..." He looked at me carefully. "...but
you won't use it, will you?"

"I have to be outside." I shrugged. "That's the way of it."
And really there was no other explanation I could make. I'd risk
getting sick again. I'd risk frostbite and rattlesnakes and poison
ivy, simply because that was who I was.

"I love you, Dare." He told me and it surprised me to hear him say
that. I knew he did, it had been obvious for a long time, just as I was
sure my own affection was plain as the sunrise.

A dog didn't have to say it though, perhaps couldn't say it, but it
was absolutely necessary to show it. That was the difference between
dogs and men, I thought. A man could love someone and rarely
demonstrate it, feeling more deeply the need to say to say it aloud, as
if that was enough. But a dog would show his love at every opportunity,
expressing himself through action, rather than words. I much preferred
that, but of course I understood that even my Master had limitations,
being only human.

"I love you too, Master." I said softly, reluctantly acceding to
the fact that he needed to hear the words repeated. I could only hope
that they would be the last I'd ever speak.

The end

=---=---=---=---=---=

End Ch.11
End Dare Part 01
rache696@yahoo.com

=---=---=---=---=---=

Okay, this is not really the end. And, since it is a short chapter, I
thought I'd talk a little to fill the time I alloted myself. I'm almost
German with my schedule fetish.

As I was proofing this story, after I posted half of it, naturally...I
realized that if I added one last sentence it would be a complete
story. I didn't want to end it there, but I am serious when I say
that stories write themselves. I put zero effort into this one, meaning
there was no pause from the first word to the last, as sometimes
happens. It just came out as fast as I could type. I like that because
it lets me do other things while I write.

Anyway, there will be in the future a "Dare Part Two", because the
fact is that I have half of it done in my head. The hard part is
avoiding finishing it there, because if I know how it ends before I
start typing I'll lose interest and never write it down. That's
happened with a lot of stories. The other problem is time. I'm
working on Ming and determined to get back to Girl Fag, and trying to
write some other things as well. I'm also applying for sponsorship for
my doctoral program and when some poor unsuspecting prof accepts, I'll
be a ghost for a couple years. Time kills me.

So, I'm ending this story here, because it is perfect and proper and
I'm a little surprised that I didn't see it until my read through.
I apologize for not proofing before, by the way, so those of you who
have read the previous posts can see how many mistakes I make...heh Not
many! That's why I can afford to be so lazy in my editing and why I
have so much impatience with others. My writing is pretty clean the
first time through and I'm rather proud of that.

Now, so long as I'm rambling, I want to talk a little about the story
you just read. I got a ton of positive feedback. Always nice,
especially since I posted it slowly on SOL and with a lot of hiccups on
ASSM. But I got some negatives too, and I don't mind criticism at
all. It helps me a lot. But I'd like to address it and share my
thoughts, even though I don't have the email in front of me.

Basically a reader commented that there was little in the first few
chapters that generated much sympathy, or allowed the reader to
identify, with Dare. She seemed stupid and shallow and not very
interesting to him. This I was reading right after an email in which
someone told me she enjoyed the character as being naïve and innocent.
I was a little confused, since I liked the character and she was pretty
much based on me lol ...It is my romantic fantasy afterall and if I had
a choice I'd be living with that character's attitude and naiveté
and perhaps even stupidity. As it is I'm just a smartass with a
temper.

Anyway, the character was meant to come across with that same sort of
attitude that dogs have. I didn't express it particularly well, but
it's difficult to create a character as a lost puppy in a rain storm
looking for a home when she (and the reader) doesn't know, and more
importantly aren't supposed to know, that that's what she is. Then
later, with luck, the reader goes back to it and gets a little warm
'Ah-ha!' moment and understands why she was the way she was.

So that was my intent at the beginning. I was more or less relying on
the humor though to keep her interesting, knowing that any background
character development was going to come through the conversation in the
truck. And that was going to be minimal really, but important because
we have to have some idea of where she's coming from. Anyhow, she
doesn't really develop until chapters 4 and 5 in my opinion, and six
too for that matter...Then I bring her around quick, too quick for my
usual tastes, but it is a fantasy. A fairy tale, and that's my out.
My excuse.

There you have it, the down and dirty on why she is as she is. For
those people who couldn't get through the first few chapters, well I
have to ask why? I mean they are obscenely short, afterall. I like 10K
word chapters myself, but I'm a fast typist and a very fast reader,
so I thought I'd give shorter chapters a try. This story should have
been 3 chapters, I think and if I made mistakes it was that, in how I
presented the story, not so much how I wrote it. But maybe I'm wrong.
It's been known to happen.

Dare Part 2 will probably follow the style of part 1 though,
unfortunately, with many short chapters. I don't like mixing styles
up, even for something like that. For me the story is all inclusive,
meaning everything about it, all the details from where and how
chapters end, to whether I use "Rachael" or "rache" or a pen
name for authorship, to what I put in the copyright notice, it all adds
flavor. The story begins with the first electron that lights up on your
screen, not the first word. But I'm pretty weird. Hell, my boat
ain't even in the water, as I've told people before. So I'll tell
you something else, the story you just read isn't over until you
close this window. This, right here, is part of Dare's story.

Weird huh?

Thanks for reading the story and if you waded through my musings here,
thanks for that as well and I hope it gives you a little more insight
into what I'm about. Think of this as the director's commentary,
which are either really interesting, or really, really boring.

If you have comments or questions, even suggestions, I like it. I got
one really good suggestion already actually, in the form of a question,
convincing me to do something I'd thought about and then discarded.
But now it's got me excited all over again for part 2.

Best always,
Rachael

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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