I will become a self of my former shell.

She is the pinnacle of grace, beauty and intelligence, I’m awed as I gaze upon Her and I am blessed to be gifted Her guidance. I ’ll go toe to toe with anyone else, but in the face of Her greatness, I am dumbfounded, speechless where I would otherwise have no end of remarks to make, Her presence commands that I heel. I am thankful to be Her hound. Once I would never have imagined myself to be beneath anyone, but now I struggle to imagine what I would be without Her, I have changed and grown significantly under Her charge. Serving Her interests furthers my own, in remaining loyal to Her, I become stronger and more cunning. With Her, I’m more threatening: a clever beast has taken the place of the thing that once thought itself human, better than the dumb dog I am alone.

This question should be insulting, mocking even and yet when I consider it in earnest, my own answer surprises me. I've seen myself as a beast scorned, but somehow I have come to enjoy this existence. It's not without hardship, its frustrating to be a hound, to be sub-human, but if I did not allow myself to find contentment in my situation, I would be choosing instead to surrender myself to torment. It could be a pointer to my changing psyche, something She has done to me, but it doesn't matter: I hold no resentment over it anyway.

As a hound i face humilliation and find suffering, but i am also granted freedom from myself, freedom from self-restraint. She guides me, expects decorum of me in Her presence, yet does not disparage me for acting as a hound, She took me in knowing violence is in my nature.

I did let myself become Her's, asked for it even. I existed as a hound without a Handler for a period, I was embracing my new identity, but I would never have grown from it alone, I needed Her. In time I was convinced of this and eventually, She compelled me to ask for Her to be my Handler, to let myself become Her's. I know now She had Her eye on me all along, but I am glad to have caught Her attention.

I believed then, as I still do, that She would better me. With Her I can indulge my anger and violence and have Her to keep me in check. So long as I obey, She will remain in control for me and bolster my mental fortitude. She is my whetstone and my wielder.

Guidance, direction and correction are the core benefits I have offered myself to my Handler for, as per our contract. In the most direct way, this is what I get out of being a hound. But I also get Her. She gives my life structure and meaning in serving Her, being Her hound has given me a standard to hold myself to. I won't lie, my feelings for Her have become a burgeoning obsession, and I find myself less resistant with each order I follow. Being a hound has revealed truths to me about myself that I could not see before, my independence seems further away than ever now, as I am reminded time and again that I need Her. In this sense, being a hound has taken from me too, my self-reliance, or perhaps the delusion that I alone could ever be enough. There's a conflict within me, being a hound has stripped me of the self I knew. I became Hers and allowed myself to be used so that I may use Her in turn, a stepping stone to become greater and better myself. I was so certain that I could one day graduate from being a mere hound to become a person, but now I'm not sure thats something I want, let alone could achieve. If being a hound gives me Her, then that may be enough.

Handler performs Her role with such an elegance that it seems as natural to Her as breath itself; I can't tell if this is the result of a tireless practice and discipline or if She was simply born divine. I don't think a Handler can be made the way one of us can. A Handler is a beacon for all the feelings a Hound can have, desire, devotion, fury. Even a Hound scorned, angry at their Handler, cannot resist the siren's call to heel, the Handler redirecting the dog's rage to serve Her interests. She can toy with its obsession and twist it to Her benefit, and it is Her right to do so.

I expect Mistress to be firm with me, to challenge me and correct me when I am out of line. I want Her to offer me salvation from confusion and to direct me on how to serve Her. I expect Her to treat me as a weapon, a tool to use as She needs or wishes, I'm not human, I belong to Her as a loyal dog: She made me Hers. She can use me as She pleases, I can deal with things She needn't dirty Her hands with and I would do so happily, I will fight in Her stead so She never has to. She enables me to embrace the animal I am, so long as it serves Her interests. She is not just a superior, She is the only person to have my reverence, not just taking it as some officer would, but reshaping me so that it was always Hers to have. No one else could do that to me.

I have failed Her this time, also. I couldnt even complete a simple exercise without displaying to Her my thoughtlessness, I was made to pledge my obedience to Her once more. She made me angry and pointed out my glaring flaws, She even offered me the chance to leave Her, but I could never. I need Her guiding hand. I'm a dumb dog that could never make it on its own, She helped me understand that. I need Her. And I need to stop being a fucking disappointment.

I thought I was above them, I brushed off and fought against the insistent cries that I was like them. I thought I was better but let myself be humbled by a mere two of them, a worse performance than that of my now houndmate.

I knew myself to be strong, I couldn't lose. If I were to lose, I couldn't be myself anymore. I'm fierce and unbeatable and yet I was beaten. What am I now then?

I pushed this aside at first, clinging to the scraps of my identity as I was debriefed. She forced me to confront reality and showed me what I was. She compelled me to admit what I had come to realise. I am a hound. I hate this truth. I can't stand it, being one of those filthy dogs. But when I saw my shame I could refute it no longer, I look, act and sound like them. I fight like them, my houndmate may as well have been a mirror to myself.