Gromet's PlazaPonyGirl/PetGirl Stories

The Lapdog

by John Bannergram

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© Copyright 2021 - John Bannergram - Used by permission

Storycodes: F/f; petgirl; hum; costume; slave; mittens; public; bond; cuffs; tease; permanent; reluct; nc; X

Continues from

Chapter 3: A Gauntlet of Errands

Lisa leaned against the podium as she stood before a roomful of her colleagues. Her carefully prepared presentation slides were on display behind her. She took a brief glance at her notes, put a confident smile on her face, and looked out at her audience. But to her confusion, Lisa saw that several of them had started to giggle and point at her. She looked down at herself and froze in horror at what she saw. She was dressed in her poodle costume!

No, no, no! Just calm down. Act like nothing’s wrong.

Lisa opened her mouth, only to realize that she had no idea what to say. Her shock and embarrassment had left her unable to recall any of her speech. She stared blankly at her audience as she struggled to remember what she had even planned to talk about. Lisa glanced down again to check her notes in the hope that they might jog her memory, but in their place was a flyer with “PET FOR SALE” written at the top. Beneath the title she saw a photo of herself locked in a dog cage with a pleading expression on her face. The caption was even worse.

Name: Lisa. Breed: Toy Poodle.

Lisa is a former stray in need of an owner. We think she must be someone’s pet that got lost since she is thoroughly domesticated and has no survival instincts. Lisa is timid and easily trained, although she’s not smart enough to learn anything too hard. Her antics will provide hours of fun for you and all of your friends.

Eyes wide, she looked back up and tried to think of something to say.

"Yap yap yap! Yip yip!"

She couldn’t talk! Every time Lisa opened her mouth she couldn’t stop herself from barking like a dog. She cowered before the staring crowd, trying frantically to explain herself, but the words all came out as the high-pitched yapping of a poodle.

"Hey! I didn't think they allowed pets in here," someone shouted.

A woman in the audience chimed in. "Aww, look at her. She’s trembling! The silly thing probably wandered in here by mistake. We should find her owner and return her."

Lisa shook her head and tried to explain, to say that she wasn't a pet, that she was someone that they should respect who had important things to say. But nothing came out of her mouth but dog noises. Lisa hung her head and whimpered like a lost pet. How could she have thought that anyone would listen to a little poodle like her? She had given up on her speech. All she wanted to do now was to go home and hide. Lisa started to walk off stage, but she was jerked short by her collar. She looked down to see that she had been tied to the lectern by her leash, leaving her trapped in front of the giggling, pointing audience. Lisa pawed at the knot, trying desperately to untie herself. Her boobs jiggled obscenely in her fur bra as she struggled against her leash, causing the crowd to roar with laughter.

Lisa sighed with relief as she saw one of her colleagues get up and walk to the podium. But to her frustration, he made no move to untie her. He just gave her a patronizing smile and stuffed a dog biscuit between her teeth. Before she could spit it out, he had taken a selfie with her, a funny picture of him with the poodle behind the podium to share with his friends. After he’d taken his photo he abandoned her to the crowd. Lisa looked frantically around the room. Why didn’t somebody help her? Miss Davenport! Where was she? Where was her owner? Lisa was just a lapdog, she wasn’t supposed to go anywhere without her owner!

Lisa woke up with a start, her heart still pounding. She took a moment to get her bearings and reassure herself after her nightmare. She was where she was supposed to be, in her pet bed at her mistress’s feet. Lisa’s bed was on the floor at the foot of Carla’s bed and slightly to one side, so that Miss Davenport could watch her toy poodle whenever she felt like it. Lisa stared up at her owner. Carla’s long hair lay on her pillow, framing her perfect face, her patrician features relaxed in sleep. She wore the faint smile of someone who had everything that she wanted.

Lisa had seen that smile many times before; she always woke up before Miss Davenport. As a result, when she got up in the morning there was nothing for her to do but sit curled up in her pet bed and wait for her mistress. It was a daily reminder of how little she could accomplish on her own, and how dependent she was on her owner. Sometimes she would become frustrated enough to make another attempt at getting her costume off, but she never succeeded. Without the use of her hands, all she could do was paw at herself like an animal.

Prior to her enslavement, Lisa had often played with a set of handcuffs that she owned, but the feel of her current predicament was quite different. There weren’t any restraints to struggle against, no chains or gags, just the paws and collar that kept her helpless, and the costume that made it clear that she was nothing more than a dumb house pet. Even her pink-dyed skin was a reminder that she had been demoted from a person to a toy. Occasionally Lisa would tip-toe to the door and try to leave Miss Davenport's bedroom and assert her independence, but the doorknob always slid under her soft fur paws. Failing to open the door always made her feel small. But what made her feel the most submissive was the presence of Carla's sleeping form.

Before her enslavement, Lisa had always been a type-A personality, all-go all the time. Now she had to wait for her mistress to wake up before doing anything. If she wanted to go downstairs, she had to wait. If Lisa needed to be let out so that she could pee, she had to hold it in. Every morning she battled with herself, telling herself that she had every right to wake Carla up so that they could go downstairs. But she was too intimidated. And increasingly, she felt that she wasn’t supposed to wake up her mistress. That it was somehow…the wrong thing to do. So Lisa waited in her pet bed until her owner got up. Like a good dog.

In spite of her misgivings, after the first few weeks Lisa had settled into her daily routine. She still wasn’t happy about being a slave, and she certainly had objections to being dressed in a demeaning costume and treated like a dog. However, as strange and humiliating as her life had become, Lisa had started to get used to it, and although she didn't like to admit it, a part of her had come to enjoy Miss Davenport's attentions. But today her daily routine took an unexpected turn.

As usual, breakfast was excellent. It was typical of Lisa’s new life. She had been turned into a spoiled lapdog, who was pampered by her owner while never being permitted freedom or dignity. She dined on a lovingly crafted breakfast souffle, but she ate on her hands and knees out of a dog bowl. She sat on a soft, expensively made blanket, but she remained on the kitchen floor next to her mistress’s chair. She was doted on, but was expected to perform on command like a well-trained dog. No matter how good the food was or how comfortable her surroundings were, she was still nothing more than a house pet, and like any pet she was the property of her owner and subject to her whims. Lisa had just finished her breakfast and was sipping on an espresso out of a little dish on the floor when Carla made a horrifying announcement.

"Well, your mistress has a busy day of errands ahead of her. Come along, girl."

"You mean…with you?" Lisa shuddered at the idea of going out in her ridiculous costume. Carla couldn't expect her to walk around in public dressed like a slutty poodle!

But that was exactly what Carla expected. Lisa tried to talk her out of it, but Miss Davenport didn’t even bother to reply. Carla just turned Lisa’s voice off so that she could only bark and whine in protest. Lisa felt numb inside as they drove away from the house. This was the first time she’d left Carla’s home since she had been brought there in chains. Lisa dreaded being seen by strangers. In her mind’s eye she saw the laughing, pointing crowd from her dream. Lisa’s paws couldn’t work the buckle on her seatbelt, making her feel as if she had been tied to her seat. It was a continual reminder as they drove into town that there was no escape from whatever Miss Davenport had planned for her.

After Carla had gotten out of the car, she unfastened Lisa’s seatbelt and clipped the leash to her collar. Lisa recoiled as looked out at the busy street. There were people out there, all of them dressed normally. She couldn’t let herself be seen in the humiliating costume that her mistress made her wear. Lisa rarely defied her owner anymore. She knew that she would be punished for disobedience and that Carla always won in the end anyway. There didn’t seem to be any point in resisting. Submission was easier, and it had become a habit for Lisa, to the point where obeying her mistress seemed like the natural thing to do. But habit or not, being forced to go out in public was a step too far.

Lisa shook her head and strained against her leash in a silent refusal to get out of the car. Even if she was punished for her disobedience, it would be worth it if she could avoid being put on display in front of everyone. Lisa braced herself for the pain, but Carla didn’t punish her. Instead, she did something far worse. She treated Lisa like a dog. Miss Davenport stared down at her with an understanding smile.

“Oh, I know, I know,” Carla said in a sympathetic voice. “It’s so scary out here for a sweet little doggie. Don’t you worry, I’ll keep my pet nice and safe. Come on, girl! Come on! Here, girl!”

Lisa closed her eyes to try to block out the humiliating scene that she had sparked. The passersby could all see the spectacle of Miss Davenport trying to coax her frightened poodle girl out of the car. As Carla continued to reassure her silly pet that it was safe to come out, Lisa slumped in her seat. Her attempt to keep from going out in public had only made things worse. When Carla tugged on her leash again, Lisa hopped out of the car, too defeated to resist.

Miss Davenport smiled at her pet and patted her on the head. “That’s better! Good girl. See? Nothing to be scared of.”

Needless to say, Lisa drew a lot of attention as she followed her mistress down the street. Since slave contracts had been legalized, people had become accustomed to seeing some pretty strange things. But even so, Lisa was something new. It wasn’t every day that you saw a pink girl dressed in a sexy poodle costume being led around on a leash. Whether it was the old man whose eyes were glued to her cleavage or the sour-faced woman that gave her a disgusted sniff, everyone stared at her. Miss Davenport seemed oblivious to her pet’s discomfort or to the strangeness of the situation; she strolled cheerfully down the sidewalk like any other woman out for the day with her prized lapdog. Whenever someone looked at them, Carla smiled in response as if to show how proud she was of her pretty poodle.

As her mistress led her around town by her leash, Lisa stared at the ground in embarrassment, which only made her look even more submissive. She didn’t even bother to watch where she was going; her walks with Carla in the garden had made her accustomed to following the pull of her leash. The stores were no better than the street, they were filled with people that looked at her skimpy costume in amusement or stared at her with thinly disguised lust. But eventually something happened that Lisa had been dreading all morning. Lunch.

It was a few minutes past noon when Carla led Lisa by the leash into an expensive restaurant. As they waited for the host, Lisa stood next to her mistress with a look of despair on her face. The restaurant wasn’t crowded, but neither was it empty. The customers were all well-dressed, and many of them were already looking at her. Even worse, everyone was going to see her eating off of the floor like a dog. Under other circumstances, Lisa might have strained against her leash in protest. But after being paraded around dressed as a slutty pet all morning, the fight had gone out of her. She simply stood and waited with an air of complete and utter misery, more aware with each humiliating second of how out of place she was. Miss Davenport stared at Lisa’s face for a moment.

“Would you like to sit away from the others?” she asked quietly.

Lisa looked at her owner with pleading eyes and nodded. Carla smiled at her reassuringly. “All right. We’ll find you someplace nice and quiet. Does that make you feel better?”

As she nodded, Lisa felt a rush of gratitude towards her mistress. It might not have been rational, considering that it had been Carla who had taken her out dressed like a poodle in the first place, but she was grateful all the same. Naturally Lisa was relieved that she wouldn’t have to eat with everyone staring at her. But it helped even more to know that her mistress wanted her to feel better and was keeping an eye on how she was doing. The idea that Carla was making sure that things didn’t get too much for her to handle was the first ray of hope that Lisa had had all day, and she clung to it.

The host arrived and greeted Miss Davenport and Lisa. To his credit, he was professional enough, or at least concerned enough about keeping Carla’s business, to not say anything about Lisa, although his eyebrows shot up for a moment when he saw her. Carla gave him a polite nod. “Could we have a booth at the back rather than my usual table?”

“Certainly, Ma’am.” The host led them to a booth in a corner well away from the other customers. Lisa had assumed that she would sit on the floor, but instead Miss Davenport had her pet sit next to her, so that she was on all-fours between Carla and the wall. She had mixed feelings about that. Although being on the floor would have been more humiliating, if Lisa had been beneath the table no one would have been able to see her.

Carla ordered some small plates for them both, all bite-sized finger foods. Lisa found the wait for their meal to be a trial. Their booth was at the back of the restaurant, but every time a waiter brought out an order, or someone needed to use the restroom, they passed by their table and stared in astonishment at the pink woman that was dressed like a poodle. Lisa had been facing the stares of the crowd all morning, but the uncertainty of the situation kept her on edge. She never knew when someone would pass by, or how they would react. Every time she saw someone coming she would press against the wall of their booth in an attempt to avoid being noticed. Eventually Lisa realized to her shame what she was doing. She was actually hiding behind her mistress like a frightened dog. It was bad enough that she looked like a pet, now she was starting to act like one. Lisa tried to stop, but after the constant stares that she had received all morning her courage had left her.

Lisa had expected that when the food arrived Miss Davenport would have her eat out of a bowl. But her mistress surprised her. Instead, Carla picked up bits of food and fed her by hand. Lisa was hesitant at first. It was degrading to be kept on her hands and knees and fed like a faithful dog being given its treats. But there was a kind of submissive intimacy about having her owner feed her by hand, and without knowing why, Lisa found that it calmed her down. With Carla turned towards her, her body shielding her from view, Lisa was able to focus on her mistress and the food instead of the other customers.

From her position on all fours Lisa couldn’t see Miss Davenport’s face while she ate; like a real pet her owner towered above her, providing her with food and protection. Lisa used her well-practiced tongue to lap up the morsels in Carla’s hand, the taste of the food mingling with that of her mistress’s fingers. As Lisa ate, from time to time Miss Davenport would use her free hand to stroke her head. By the time she was done with her meal, Lisa felt a little better, and a little more confident that her mistress would look after her.

When they had both finished their lunch, Lisa was led out of the restaurant to once again face the crowded street. She still wasn’t allowed to talk, so she wasn't able to ask her mistress when they would be done with their errands and could go home. As Lisa retreated into herself away from the unpleasantness of the outside world, she thought about what she would have been doing if this had been an ordinary day. She would have spent the morning on her soft blanket, keeping her owner company while she worked, and being petted and stroked. Then there would be a good lunch served in her bowl with no one to see her but her mistress. Lisa didn’t mind that, by now she was used to eating with Carla. Besides, Miss Davenport liked the way Lisa used her tongue to eat, she said it was cute.

Lisa thought for a moment about today’s meal. Although she had hated eating in a public restaurant, Lisa had liked being fed by hand. It made her feel…how did it make her feel? It was hard to put into words. Like she was being taken care of. Like she was…special. It felt really nice. Maybe Miss would feed her by hand at home sometime and then she could…Lisa winced as she realized what she had been thinking. What was wrong with her? She wasn’t supposed to want to be treated like a house pet. But despite her best efforts, as the day went on, she spent more and more time lost in her thoughts, and those thoughts were of the one place where she could be comfortable, and of the one person that she could be comfortable with.

It was strange to think of the woman who had enslaved her and treated her like a dog as reassuring. But after several weeks with Carla, Lisa felt that she knew where she stood. When Lisa had become a slave, she had feared the worst. People didn’t buy slaves so that they could be nice to them. Lisa was good looking, and the life of a sex slave wasn’t a pleasant one. Apart from the obvious dangers, people who were unfortunate enough to end up on the wrong side of a slave contract often faced severe punishment for minor infractions, or simply to satisfy the casual cruelty of their owners. A slave girl could find herself in terrible pain without knowing what she’d done wrong, or if she’d even done anything at all.

Carla wasn't like that. Although Miss Davenport’s expectations were strange, they were also quite clear. Lisa was supposed to be her mistress’s obedient pet. If she wasn’t, she was punished until she behaved herself. As long as she obeyed, she was lavished with praise and affection. Although Miss Davenport’s treatment of her was humiliating, it wasn’t actually dangerous, and she seemed to want Lisa to be happy. Or at least as happy as anyone could be when they had been enslaved and turned into a pet. Even when it was time for Lisa to serve her mistress with her mouth, Carla ensured that she got her share of pleasure.

As she followed the pull of her leash, Lisa pawed thoughtfully at the dog collar that had been wrapped around her neck. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was snug enough to ensure that she was never able to forget that it was there. The collar wasn’t just a means of punishment. It was a reminder to Lisa that she was a pet with no control over anything in her life. Her owner decided what would happen to her, without warning or discussion. Today’s errands had been a surprise, and not a good one. That was the thing about Carla, you never knew what she was going to do next. Still, at least she could be confident that her mistress wasn’t going to do anything horrible to her. Her owner liked her, and wanted to take care of her. All she had to do in return was to be good and do what Mistress said. It never once occurred to Lisa that she was thinking like a dog that had been tamed and taught obedience.

As they went from store to store, Lisa stayed lost in thought, barely aware of what Miss Davenport was doing or where they were going. She wished that her mistress would finish up. The only good thing was that they were running through the day’s errands fairly quickly; Carla’s trademark brand of cold efficiency got them in and out of the shops with a minimum of fuss. Then Miss Davenport said something that brought Lisa abruptly out of her daydreams.

"Honey, they don't allow pets in here. You'll have to wait outside." Carla tied her pet’s leash to a nearby parking meter. Before Lisa could react, her mistress was gone.

For one brief moment Lisa was pleased to finally be on her own for once, to have a little time out from under Miss Davenport's thumb. But then the reality of her situation sank in. She wasn’t going anywhere; she had been tethered to the parking meter like a dog. And she was dressed in a revealing costume that made it clear that she was someone’s slavegirl, just waiting to be dominated and used. Lisa could feel the eyes of the passersby, and on occasion someone would slap her ass or feel her up. A man pinched her breast, causing her to let out a high-pitched bark that made everyone laugh at her. Fortunately, she hadn’t run into anyone that she knew, but who could tell how long her luck would hold? Lisa shuddered at the thought of someone recognizing her and finding out that she had been reduced from a successful businesswoman to a dog on a leash.

But there was more for her to worry about than just humiliation and harassment. Lisa was intensely aware of how vulnerable she was. Anyone could untie her, take hold of her leash and steal her, and there was nothing that she could do about it other than bark and whimper. It was afternoon now. Normally at this time of day she would be safe and sound under Carla’s desk, serving her owner with her tongue. Then she would be rewarded with an orgasm if she was good, and later in the day she could climb on to Miss Davenport’s lap so that her mistress could stroke and caress her and play with her body. It made her feel so good when Mistress played with her…

Stop it, Lisa thought to herself. You’re doing it again. You’re not supposed to fantasize about being a slave. Just think about something else. But that was easier said than done. As Lisa’s ordeal continued, her thoughts kept returning to her new life as a pet. Regardless of what she was supposed to want, right now she wanted to be safe at home with her mistress. But in addition to her fear of the crowd, there was something else that preyed on her mind. The more time that Lisa spent watching the passersby, all normally dressed and going about their business, while she stood there in a pet costume unable to untie her leash or speak in her own defense, the more out of place she felt. Somehow Lisa couldn’t help feeling that this wasn’t her world anymore. That she really was just a timid house pet who didn’t belong here with all of these busy people. That she was meant to be back home on her mistress’s lap, so that she could be taken care of and kept safely out of trouble. It was ironic. She had spent much of her time in Miss Davenport's house wanting to leave, but now she wanted nothing more than for her mistress to return and take her home where she belonged.

With each moment that she spent facing the stares of the crowd, Lisa’s fear and misery grew. Meanwhile, Carla waited unseen in the store with her purchases. She had an uncharacteristically anxious expression on her face as she watched her pet through the window. Her eyes never left the hapless poodle girl. When Carla felt that enough time had passed for a lesson to have been learned she grabbed her things and went to retrieve her pet.

Things hadn’t gotten any better for Lisa. A secretary on her lunch break had found her and she was starting to get mean. She gave Lisa a scornful look.

“Can’t even talk, huh? What a dumb little slut. Maybe I should…”

“You shouldn’t play with other people’s toys without asking.”

Carla stood next to her pet with an air of quiet menace. The secretary’s eyes widened. “I…I was just…”

Carla thrust her hand between her pet’s legs, curled her fingers around her sex, and gave a gentle squeeze that made Lisa gasp. Miss Davenport stared at the other woman with a feral expression.


The secretary stared at her for a moment in horror, then remembered an urgent appointment somewhere else and fled like a scared rabbit. Lisa tried not to look as relieved as she felt. Her mistress was back, and the world seemed a bit less frightening. Carla took her by the leash and gave her an affectionate scratch behind the ear, as if in reassurance. Then she went on with her day as if nothing had happened. But something had happened. The dynamic had changed. Lisa stayed very close to Carla, and she walked one step behind her, so that her mistress was always in view. She didn’t look at the ground or the passersby. She kept her eyes on her mistress, as if no one and nothing else mattered. The pull of the leash on her throat seemed stronger than it had before. It felt…good.

The day was nearly over when Miss Davenport brought Lisa to the front desk of what appeared to be a beauty parlor. However, the black latex corset that the woman at the desk was wearing made Lisa suspect that this was not an ordinary salon.

Carla smiled at the woman with an air of familiarity. "I have an appointment to have my dog groomed."

Lisa looked in confusion at Miss Davenport. Carla had turned her voice back on, but she was still speechless. Surely she couldn't mean…

The woman got up, revealing spiked heels and skin-tight silver leggings that complimented her short white-blonde hair.

"Of course, Ma'am. We're all ready for your little lamb."

She patted Lisa on the head. "Hi! I'm Miss Deborah, and I'll be taking care of you today. Miss Davenport’s been telling us all about you and what a good girl you are. We're going to make you look really pretty!"

Lisa was too embarrassed and confused to know what to say. She stared at the floor and responded in a meek voice that could barely be heard.

"Thank you, Miss."

Deborah smiled at her and took hold of her leash. Carla and Deborah walked through the salon, chatting amiably as Lisa followed. Lisa didn't pay attention to what they were saying. She kept getting distracted by the other customers that she saw as they went down the hall. They were all in fetish outfits, either dominant or submissive. Black latex, chains and rubber seemed to be the fashion here. Lisa was uncomfortably aware of how different she looked, how her poodle costume stood out. Several of the patrons stared at her in a way that put her in mind of a lion confronted with a raw steak. Lisa was relieved when she was led away from the other customers and into a private room. In the center was a large table with a dog grooming sink. Beside it was another woman dressed identically to Deborah with the same short white-blonde haircut. Carla sat in a nearby chair and waited for the show, whatever it was, to begin.

The other woman introduced herself to Lisa in the patronizing tone reserved for the very young or the very stupid.

"Well, aren’t you adorable! Miss Davenport was right, you’re just the sweetest thing ever. I'm Miss Michelle. We'll be taking care of you today, and making you look like a pretty pup!"

Lisa didn't know how to respond to that either, so she remained silent as the two groomers helped her up onto the table. Before Lisa could react, her wrists and ankles had been shackled to it, forcing her to remain on her hands and knees. Startled, she began to ask why she had been chained up, only for one of the groomers to stuff a bone-shaped gag in her mouth that was soon tied into place.

"Ugh! Aargh!" Lisa tried to complain, but she was unable to say anything that anyone could understand. Michelle smiled at her and patted her on the head.

“You’re just too precious, aren’t you? Don’t you worry your pretty head about anything!”

Deborah got out a sponge and some soap, while Michelle pulled out a faucet on a hose. Together they lathered and washed Lisa like a pampered poodle. As one rubbed soap onto her, the other washed. Their hands went everywhere, their caresses moving Lisa closer to the edge. She desperately fought against herself, trying not to cum. Not like this. Not in front of everyone like a whore. But she couldn't stop herself. The hands of the two women were all over her pussy and breasts. She started to moan, her noises of pleasure distorted by the gag in her mouth into something animalistic. As Lisa’s arousal consumed her, she instinctively began to push herself towards the hands of her groomers, rubbing herself against them. Her moans grew louder as her eyes glazed over in lust until she looked and sounded as mindless as the animal that she had been dressed as.


She came with a loud cry that was unmistakable. When Lisa was able to think clearly again, she couldn't believe what she had done. She had lost all self-control and orgasmed in front of two complete strangers with a dog toy stuffed in her mouth. She couldn’t even pretend that she had been an unwilling participant; everyone had seen her grinding against Michelle and Deborah. She felt like the world’s biggest slut. Lisa shuddered from the sensations as Deborah stroked her pussy.

"Aww," Deborah said with a smile, “it sounds like your doggie’s enjoying her bath."

Deborah and Michelle cleaned the juices from Lisa’s crotch and finished washing her. They freed her wrists so that she could get comfortable, although the shackles on her legs kept her from getting off of the table. The two women dried and brushed her fur. Then they removed her gag and wove ribbons into the fur on her head, of the kind you might see on a pedigreed poodle that was about to be put on display. Lisa sat quietly while they worked. On any other occasion she might have complained about how humiliating the whole thing was. But after the way she had acted, part of Lisa felt like the ribbons belonged on her, that she really was just a dumb pet with no dignity. Deborah and Michelle’s comments didn’t help, they kept whispering sugary things in her ears about what a good girl she was, and how lucky she was to have an owner to look after her and keep her safe and warm.

Deborah set up a mirror in front of Lisa so that she could see her face while they finished decorating her fur. Lisa had seen herself many times in the mirror since becoming Miss Davenport’s poodle, but with nothing to look at but her own face, she was forced to really see it in every detail. She stared at her reflection, unable to look away. Her pastel pink face was framed by her fur poodle-cut wig. It was well made, so much so that it didn’t look like a wig, it looked like she had fur instead of hair. The wig was bigger and fluffier now that it had been washed and brushed. Little colored ribbons decorated her fur. The crowning touch was a large red bow that they had put in the center of her wig. She looked…adorable.

It was a face that no one could take seriously. A face that made it clear that she was someone that you would talk slowly to, so as not to confuse or startle. Lisa looked in the mirror and tried to put on the authoritative expression that she used to wear when she gave advice to a client, but it just made her look ridiculous. There was no way for her to look like anything other than the submissive pet that she had become.

After the groomers left the room, Miss Davenport picked up the brush and used it to stroke Lisa’s fur. Carla had bumped against the mirror when she picked up the brush. From its new position Lisa could see herself on all-fours with her mistress beside her. Lisa’s breasts hung invitingly, and the little tail on her panties wiggled every time she moved. Her tail. She had a tail. On her hands and knees, her tail wagging like she was an eager dog, with her mistress brushing her fur, no one could mistake Lisa for anything other than Miss Davenport’s pet. Carla continued brushing her fur while stroking her with her free hand. The stroking wasn’t sexual, but the experience of being petted like an animal by her mistress combined with the sight of her own reflection made Lisa feel incredibly submissive. She had to admit that the touch of Miss Davenport’s hand on her body felt good after the thorough scrubbing that…

Suddenly, amidst the mixture of humiliation, submission, and residual pleasure, something hit her. "My skin!"

"Hmm? What about it?" Carla asked distractedly as she used the brush to get a tangle out of her pet’s fur.

"It's still pink! The groomers washed and scrubbed me all over and the dye didn’t come out!"

Carla smiled at Lisa as she stroked her. “Well, of course it didn’t, dear. You don't think I'd pay for shoddy workmanship for my girl, do you?”

Lisa's eyes went wide. She felt very small. Time seemed to stand still as she looked up at her mistress. "You mean…the pink dye is…permanent?"

Carla put down the brush and gave her a hug. "Not just the dye, my pet. Your whole outfit has been attached to your skin. Everything is permanent, from your collar, to your paws, to the bra, to the panties you’re dressed in with that adorable little tail on the back."

"No…you can’t…you can't…"

It couldn't be true - Miss Davenport couldn't mean to keep her this way! Lisa frantically rubbed her paws over her face, hoping that somehow some of the dye would come off, that there was at least some hope that someday she could look like a person instead of a house pet. But her skin remained unblemished-the soft pink of a pampered poodle.

"Yes, you're going to stay as my happy little pet for good. It's like they say on those animal adoption shows. You've found your forever home!"

Lisa felt a small flicker of rebellion. "That's not even legal. Under the slave laws you're not allowed to permanently change my body!"

Carla smiled as if her pet had done something especially cute. "Really? Then I suppose you'll just have to sue me. I'm sure everyone will love it when my poodle takes the stand. If you’re very good, maybe the judge will pet you after we’re done. No, you’re my sexy little slave to do with as I please, and you’re going to stay that way.”

She scratched Lisa behind the ear. “Besides, even if you did get free, how would a defenseless poodle like you survive on your own? If today's activities have shown us anything it's that you need someone to look after you.

I know it’s hard to accept. But think of it as a lesson. I could sign the papers tomorrow to make you a free woman. I could buy you back your old office. But your paws wouldn't even be able to open the door, and as for the receptionist at the desk or the other people who work in your building, well. I can just imagine what they'd say if they saw you now. Although I must admit that you’d look awfully cute behind a desk trying to type with your paws. This is your life. You're my helpless toy poodle, and you always will be."

"I'm not!" Lisa protested, but her heart wasn't in it. She couldn’t take her eyes off of her reflection in the mirror. This was how she looked now. This was how she would always look. For the rest of her life, this is what everyone would see, a silly pink pet with ribbons in her hair and her body on display.

"You are,” Carla smiled and gave Lisa’s breast a little squeeze. “You’re my sexy little pet, and you’re going to stay that way. You really ought to thank me."

Lisa remained silent as she stared at her reflection. She had already resigned herself to the knowledge that she was never going to get her freedom back. But as she looked in the mirror at the costume that she had been trapped in, she realized that not only would she always have an owner, she would always need an owner. Lisa would never be able to carry out even the simplest day-to-day tasks without her mistress’s help. She was every bit as dependent on her owner as a real lapdog. Like a pedigreed poodle, she would spend the rest of her life decorative, pampered, and totally unable to care for herself. Lisa was so preoccupied that it took a moment for the rest of what Carla had said to sink in. She gasped. "What?!? You want me to thank you for turning me into your dog?"

"Well, it’s certainly what’s best for you. Let's be honest. Your little stock gamble should have taught you that you're not able to make decisions for yourself." Carla stroked Lisa’s nose affectionately. "It's much better if someone else decides for you. Someone more responsible. Someone like me."

"But I-"

"Do you think it's a coincidence that I found out so quickly that you were up for sale? I've had my eye on you for some time. You're perfect. This is what you were made for."

Lisa looked up at her in confusion. "Made for? What do you mean by that?"

Carla hooked her finger through Lisa’s collar and leaned down so that their faces were almost touching. "Like I said, I've been watching you. Staying out all night alone. Taking foolish chances at work. And those marks on your wrists from struggling in your handcuffs that you thought no one would recognize…deep down, you wanted this. For someone to make you their property. You aren't made for independence. You're made to be a house pet. Tame. Docile. And that's exactly what you've become. An obedient pet who loves to submit to her owner."

Lisa shook her neck free from Carla's grasp. "You're crazy! I didn’t want to be a poodle!"

She tried to back away, but the cuffs on her legs still held her to the table. Carla moved her hand between her pet’s thighs and gave a long, slow stroke that made Lisa’s whole body shudder. Miss Davenport held her wet fingers in front of Lisa's face and rubbed the juices on her nose.

"They cleaned you less than ten minutes ago and you're already dripping. Having you around the house has gotten me used to that lovely scent. Smell that and tell me with a straight face that this isn't what you want. That the idea of submitting to me doesn’t excite you. That being my lapdog doesn’t make you wet."

Lisa hung her head in shame. How could she be enjoying being humiliated and turned into a dog? How could she be enjoying being treated like a pet? Didn’t she have any pride at all? She couldn’t want this. She just couldn’t. After all, she’d hated being seen in public today. That proved that she didn’t want to be a pet, didn’t it? But…what about the rest of it? How did it make her feel to be dominated and led around on a leash? What about laying on her mistress’s lap and being stroked and…played with? How did it really make her feel to submit and be Carla’s sexy little slavegirl?

Lisa felt a twinge between her legs as images of being chained to her mistress’s chair and serving her with her tongue flashed through her mind. To her shock Lisa realized that throughout the day, when she had daydreamed about being safely away from the other shoppers, not once had her daydreams been of being sensibly dressed and back at her desk at work. Instead, she’d thought about being back at Carla’s house and being her pampered pet. She’d daydreamed about being in her mistress’s home where she was petted and doted on and played with until she orgasmed, and where she had no freedom at all. But that couldn’t be right. That couldn’t be what she wanted. But no matter how much Lisa argued with herself, there was no way to argue with her body; the scent of her own arousal filled her senses.

 "All you need to do is admit to yourself that you're enjoying this, and to realize how much better your life has become. No worrying about where your next meal comes from, because I take care of that. No thinking about money, because you have none. No fears about maintaining your sense of dignity, because pets don't have any dignity. No worries about making the wrong decision, because I’ll never give you a choice,” Carla stroked Lisa’s body, creating sensations that made it hard for her to think. “I’ve trapped you for life in utter helplessness, until all you have to do, all you’re allowed to do, is to please me…and to enjoy the pleasures that I choose to give. That’s what you really want."

Lisa was shaken. She didn't know how to respond to that, or to the heat between her legs that made a mockery of her protests. She barely reacted when one of the groomers returned and unchained her. Lisa hopped down from the table and followed her mistress out the door. She remained quiet all the way home.


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