Bottom Bitch

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In an all-male world, being the top dog takes on a whole new meaning...

When a plague wipes out all canines, humans take the place their beloved pets. But life as a puppy isn't remotely idyllic in a dog eat dog world.

When T639 leaves the puppy mill, he enters a world of secrets, lust, and violent needs. As the bottom bitch for a huge pack, T639 is considered a reward to increase the physical prowess of the master's dogs. T639 must endure his perverted master, his twisted handler, and the entire pack. After everything that's happened to him, the only thing he wasn't expecting was to thoroughly enjoy his submission...

Please be aware:

Bottom Bitch is a hardcore gay BDSM serialized erotic fantasy that contains extreme puppy play. All characters are eighteen or over. This 21,500-word novella is for an adult audience.

Excerpt:

It’s a dog eat dog world. If you’re not the top dog, you’re someone’s bitch. But almost everyone is someone’s bitch. Packs have a hierarchy. The strongest is at the top. He has no dogs to answer to, but he still has to deal with the owners. I’ll get to them later on. But for now, think of the pack as a triangle. There’s one guy at the top, and it’s usually the most aggressive dog in the bunch. He got there by intimidating or killing everyone who got in his way. Each step down on that triangle means you have someone above you, but you also have bitches below you. Oh, and don’t get the wrong idea about the word bitches. In this brave new world, almost everyone is male. In the world of dogs, we’re all male and we’re all human.

Surprised?

Yeah. I didn’t know it was different before either. From what I’ve learned listening to the humans who own us, there used to be real dogs and plenty of women. But an illness wiped out all the former and damn near took out all the latter. Some doctor somewhere saved a bunch of women so the human race wouldn’t die out, but maybe he should have let us. Considering what humans did to their own to replace their beloved pets, it might not have been a bad thing for all of us to be exterminated.
Humans are nothing if not totally fucked up.

Who am I? I’m a puppy. Since I’m still in the puppy mill, I’m at the very bottom of the triangle. Me and about one hundred other puppies are learning how to behave and hoping an owner will buy us. I’m looking to get into a good pack and then get ahead. That’s what my whole life will be about. I’ll always be looking to move up. Right now, though, we’re getting to the point where things are changing. Lately, it seems all the puppies are posturing and assessing, looking for weakness in each other. We’re shedding our puppy skin and becoming dogs, so to speak. I guess the handlers are allowing us to run a little wild because it’s training for when we’re in a new pack. The way I look at it, I’m willing to kill any of these fuckers to climb up to the next rung. Once I get there, I’ll gladly keep slaying my way right up to the top. I won’t stop until I die or I get to that apex.

I want to be number one.

Oh, and don’t think I don’t know that as soon as I get up there, I’ll have to defend my spot, constantly. I know I will. I also know that, eventually, the next alpha dog will kill me.
That’s why it’s a dog eat dog world.

Let’s see, where to start? Well, I guess I already have. Today’s the day everything changes for me. A few days ago, I got old enough to be legally sold to a human owner. Right now, the state owns me. But before I tell you about escaping the puppy mill, let me tell you how I ended up here in the first place.

I fell to my fate as a puppy because of a faulty T639 gene. I don’t know what that gene does, exactly, but I do know that’s what caused me to be listed as unbreedable and therefore worthless to humanity. I know because that’s my name. I’m T639 or just T for short. I’ll get a real name once I prove myself. If I prove myself. See, the thing is, I’m not alone. There are way more unsuitables than there are suitables. Since the pool of women is now so small, the suitables do nothing but fight for the right to breed.

Even for them, it’s a dog eat dog world. But that’s a totally different story about how they go about getting to the top. I’m not going to tell you about their struggle because I don’t know how that works. Again, I’m a puppy. My view of the world is shaped by what I know, what I see, what I hear, and what I experience. If you want to know how things work for the suitables, you’ll have to ask one.
This is my story.

Now some of what I’m going to tell you I’ve had to suppose because I don’t have access to details. I know I was born but not in the old way. Again, there are too few women to actually wait around for them to gestate a baby for nine months only to find out he’s unsuitable. Nope. What they do now is harvest a woman’s eggs and then mix them in a dish with a suitable’s sperm. I’m not sure, but I think the suitables fight like crazy just for the right to jackoff in a dish. Or at least that’s what I’ve heard some of the humans say. Seems about as depressing as a dog’s life. Now, those fertilized eggs are then placed in mechanical wombs. Since testing us in that state leads to too many failures, they wait until we’re born before they run us through a battery of tests. Or they do that unless we’re a female. If you’re born a female, it’s a totally different world. At least, that’s what I’ve heard. Again, I can’t tell you all the details because I don’t know.

Anyway, these tests determine who goes where and what our place in the world will be. Since I had that defective gene, you’d think they’d just kill me, right? That’s what I would do. Kill all the defectives and just start over. But someone somewhere decided that we could be valuable to the suitables as pets. So we were allowed to live. Since the day I was old enough to have memories, I was brought up in the puppy mill.

Back when the world was different, being a puppy wasn’t a bad thing. Not all the time. I suppose now it isn’t either. As a puppy, I wasn’t expected to do too much. I wore my collar, I ate, I grew, I learned about the world, and I played. When I hit puberty, everything changed. Once that milestone passed, most of my life was spent in position.

Oh. Right. You don’t know what that means. I’ll explain. Being in position means that I’m down on all fours. My hands are covered with big gloves that apparently mimic what dogs paws used to be like. The paw mitts also make using my hands impossible. My back legs are bound so that my feet are up near my butt—calf pressed to thigh. I have pads on my knees so that I can move in this position without hurting myself.

Doesn’t sound so bad, right? Yeah. That’s what I thought, too. However, being forced into this position strips us of our humanity. It’s a delicate process, taking away what makes a man a man. But they do it slowly, so slowly that one hardly notices it’s happening. I know I really didn’t. But I was a kid and I didn’t question anything. You know how that is, right? You just kind of accept the world the way it is because that’s the way it’s always been to you.