Pet Girl Detective Ch. 02byStoryTeller07©
Forced into a Cage
Angela felt stupid and pathetic for getting herself into such a horrendous situation. Alberto was a young eighteen year old, so it was difficult to blame him entirely. She had dressed up as young girl, to get into the fathers home, and it worked when he assumed she was Alberto's girlfriend.
She made the mistake of letting her guard down with the young guy, thinking he could be manipulate like most men, with a pretty smile and a little flirting. When he forced a collar around her neck she should have fought him off, or yelled for help. Instead she kept quiet, not wanting to bring the father and his thugs upstairs.
On finding it was a shock collar, it was too late. He had her helpless on the floor, gasping for breath from the pain. When he cut her clothes off, she thought the obvious was going to happen, though yet again she had underestimated him.
The devious bastard wanted to humiliate her, and he did a good job of it. While helpless and vulnerable, he stuck a butt plug up her ass, and made her waggle her hips. On all fours, in front of a mirror she watched a tail sticking out from between her cheeks, waving back and forth.
In the direst humiliating moment of her life, she wagged a tail, as though she were a pet. Before she could recover from the crushing degradation, he told her plainly what was planned for her. He was going to train her to become his pet bitch.
She hung her head in resignation, feeling weak and beaten. She was a beautiful young woman, yet he wasn't going to take advantage of her, not yet. Not until he had broken her would he take her.
"Come on, pet. With me," he commanded. Gripping the leash tight he tugged her along the corridor, walking slowly so she could keep up. She would soon learn to crawl faster when he demanded it.
"Careful crawling down the stairs," he warned her.
It was difficult, but she made it without tumbling head first. She wondered where he was taking her. The last thing she wanted was to be shown off to his father and those thugs, while naked and helpless. Alberto held the controller for the collar in his hand, letting her see it as a warning not to misbehave.
The back stairs led to a kitchen, which they moved through to the back door. Angela didn't care about being naked outside. It was a warm night with a full moon, perfect for a romantic evening stroll, except she was crawling on the end of a leash.
Led into an outbuilding, she wondered what he had in mind. On the ground floor, in a wooden building away from the house, there was a better chance of escape.
Alberto stopped a moment to select a riding crop, then moved her along to the back of the old barn.
"In you go, pet," he ordered. Expecting reluctance he slapped her bare ass with the crop, and threaded the leash through the bars. He tugged at the leash, until she got the idea of crawling forward to avoid choking.
"No! Please don't do this to me," Angela croaked. The metal door clanged shut behind her. She turned around and grabbed onto bars, looking fiercely at him. "No! This is all wrong! You can't get away with this! Let me out," she yelled at him.
"You're here to stay, so make it easy on yourself, and accept it," he told her.
"Someone will look for me and find me, then you'll be in trouble! You're the one who'll be in a cage, so make it easy on yourself, get used to prison food," she snarled.
"Who's going to send someone looking for you? Your rich father?" he sarcastically retaliated.
Angela looked bemused for a moment, before realizing he must have heard about her enquiries around town. She had come here looking for a clients daughter, when the girl went missing.
Both of Angela's parents were dead, so who would come looking for her? She had been an independent investigator for the last twelve months, so there was no partner to miss her. No boyfriend for longer than she cared to consider. The one room office didn't need a cleaner, and the rent was paid directly from her bank account. The same for her apartment.
"Well? Who is going to be your knight in shining armor?" he smirked.
"Someone, you'll see!" she lamely replied.
They were far enough away from the main house not to be heard. It was a double edged sword. The rough thugs wouldn't hear her shouting, though no-one else would either.
"Just let me go. I won't say anything. You've just hurt my dignity, I can live with that. I'll put it down to experience and move on. Come on, don't let this get out of hand. Let me go before it means trouble for you. I promise not to say anything," she ranted.
"Keep quiet, bitch!" was all he said. Raising the controller before her had more of an effect. She sullenly looked at him, demanding freedom with ice blue eyes. He chuckled, not feeling the need to say anything more, for the situation said it all.
He opened a hatch in the top of the cage, and dropped in a tattered old blanket. The bar was slid back into place with a metallic clank. The click of a lock sounded solid and final. The cage was just large enough for her to turn around in. She couldn't stand, only kneel hunched over, on the wooden floor.
Gripping the bars so tight her knuckles were white, she glared at him. She became aware of the leathery smell of horse tackle, mixed with dust. Angela was concentrating on him, willing him to die, not noticing what he was doing. He bent over to pull at a dust sheet, not feeling the daggers in his back.
As the dust sheet was pulled away he stood to one side. At first thinking it was a mirror, she saw an identical cage, with a naked girl inside. Her mouth fell open on realizing there was someone in there. The girl pressed her face to the bars of the cage, looking up at Alberto.
Even in the dim light Angela could see it was Patty, the young girl she had come to Mexico to find. After studying the photos her father provided, she knew that face as well as her own. What a way to find her. They were both in the same trap!
The girl yapped pathetically, looking up at him with puppy dog eyes, pleading for attention. He put his hand through the bars to stroke her long blonde hair. She mewed and caressed his hand with her face. She lapped up a doggy treat from the palm of his hand, chomping on it greedily.
Looking up at him expectantly with pleading eyes, she barked excitedly, while nudging the door of the cage with her nose.
Angela felt her stomach churn with anguish. It was partly from sympathy for Patty, though mostly from fear for herself. She thought it was just another way to humiliate her, when he promised to train her. The girl had only been missing for four weeks, yet he had her trained as a submissive pet-girl.
"Not tonight my little pet. You will have to stay in your cage. Your master has a companion to keep you company," he said.
Patty wagged her tail, attempting to entice him. She tried to sit up to beg. There wasn't enough room, though with her head bent to one side, she looked cute. She folded her arms up letting her hands dangle in a begging pose, trying to gain his sympathy.
Pushing her breasts out occurred to her, though it wasn't enough. She turned around in the cage, and wiggled her ass at him, swishing the tail. Looking over her shoulder, with such an imploring look, should have gained her desire to be let out, but it didn't.
Angela felt sick. Would she too become that wretched in four weeks time? Was she looking at herself, a pathetic fawning pet, in a month's time? No! She was a tough investigator, he wouldn't break her so easily.
Alberto wandered out of the old barn, whistling happily, feeling satisfied with himself.
"Hey! Patty! Can you hear me?" Angela shouted. She was trying to pull the tail out of her bottom, only it wouldn't budge.
"Shush! Master might hear you!" Patty hissed back.
Angela was about to ask if she was all right, but quite evidently the girl wasn't. "Damn!" she yelped, from the pain when pulling on the tail too hard.
"What happened to you?" she asked. It was a start. It would be useful to find out about his methods and routine. It would help to resist the training, whatever that was, and to plan an escape.
" My names Trixy Bell," she said. To emphasis the name she shook her breasts, ringing little bells dangling from her nipples. "What do you mean?" Patty asked.
Angela was appalled at the degrading display. "How did he get you in that cage?" she asked. Feeling around the butt plug she found it had been inflated inside her. There was no way of getting it out. She arranged it out of the way to get more comfortable.
"Master bought it for me, it's my home," she said, with a frown of consternation.
"What was all the barking about," Angela tried again. It was difficult to get through to the girl, and she couldn't concentrate enough to phrase the right questions.
"Master usually lets me out in the evening. He takes me for a walk, and if I've been good, he mates me," Patty sighed. She looked longingly at the barn door, wondering if Master might return.
"He mates you!" Angela exclaimed. The words spilt angrily from her lips. The image of this young girl, on all fours in the barn ready to mate with those guard dogs, was appalling. She shook her head, shattering the horrid idea.
"Yes, he mates me. Sometimes in my muzzle, and sometimes in my ass. Best of all is when he mates in my cunt!" she eagerly informed Angela. She wiggled her hips, swishing the tail back and forth.
"Master would have mated with me, if you hadn't been here!" she petulantly said. "I haven't even been out of my cage this evening, just a quick walk this morning, and it's all your fault! You made the Master angry!" she accused Angela, with sullen looks.
"I'm sorry. It wasn't my fault, you shouldn't be there in the first place, neither of us should," Angela firmly told her.
"Where should I be then?" she asked.
"At home with your father," Angela suggested.
"This is my home, its where I belong, with my Master. He owns me, so he can do whatever he likes with me. You have a lot to learn," she added. Patty rolled up in a ball, pulling the blanket around her. It was evidently the end of a worthless conversation.
Angela had tried to find a way into the girl's unfamiliar world, and failed. She knew it needed to be subtle, so as not to alienate her. It was something she remembered from a magazine article. After such a horrendous experience this evening, and several late nights touring the clubs, she was too exhausted to think straight.
Musing over the situation, looking for a way out, she curled up and fell asleep.
Next morning she was cruelly awoken by a cold spray of water.
"Shit! Stop that. What in hell?" Angela spluttered. Alberto was training a hose on her, washing her down like an animal. She was caged, with a tail up her ass, but she was no pet of his, or anyone else's.
"If you don't stop complaining you'll be muzzled," he warned. He didn't need to threaten his new pet with the shock collar this time. She glared at him, while shivering, yet kept quiet.
Patty turned around for him to shower her body all over. He passed her a towel, with Angela's left draped over his shoulder.
"What about me?" she crossly asked.
"Do you promise to behave yourself?" he asked.
"I don't have a choice," she sullenly responded.
"No you don't. Unless you want to make a fight of it. I'll win, be sure of that!" he laughed.
It was infuriating to be so helpless and dependent upon this young guys whims. She was hungry, and figured he would withhold breakfast if she defied him.
"Do you agree to be a good little pet?" he asked. He watched her nod in resignation, knowing it wasn't true; not yet.
"Yes, master, your little pet promises to behave herself," Angela tersely spoke.
Clearly not meaning it wasn't enough to save her self-respect. Was this how it would be from now on? Witling away at her moral fiber, until there was nothing left, until one day she really meant it. It clearly worked on Patty, so it might just take longer for her to become his pathetic little pet-girl.
She watched him return with two shiny metal bowls. One was labeled 'Trixy Bell'. He shoved the other bowl through a gap, below the cage door. Looking at the mess with disdain, wasn't the answer. She was salivating, despite her attitude to it. She sniffed at it, then looked over to see Patty keenly lapping it up.
She dipped a hand into the bowl, ready to scoop it into her mouth.
"No! Good little puppies lap at their food. They do not use their paws," Alberto warned her.
The sight of that torture instrument in his hand was enough incentive to behave herself. She couldn't fight him and the demands of her stomach. It was a delicious smelling bowl of chili. Once started there was nothing stopping her. She noisily licked the bowl clean, only using her hands to hold the bowl still.
Angela looked across at Patty, for guidance on what to do next. The reflexive action shocked her. Looking away quickly before he noticed, wasn't enough to save the agony of recognizing what she had done. She now knew his training was working on her subconscious.
"If you want out of your cage you have to do as your told, understood?" he asked.
Patty was whining sweetly, not wanting to be left behind. Last night Angela learnt from Patty this might be the only opportunity to be free of the damn cage. Being scrunched up in the cage all day, if she didn't co-operate, would be terrible. Besides, it was an opportunity to find a way of escaping.
"Yes, master, your little pet will be good," she reluctantly agreed.
He dropped something into the cage. "You can work it out for yourself. Make sure you're wearing it before I get back," he demanded.
He led an excited Patty out of the cage on a leash, with her padding on all fours beside him. The purpose of the thing he dropped on her, became obvious. She pulled on the mittens, then realized the rest of it couldn't be adjusted, so ripped them off again.
Before he got back, she had managed to fumble into it. Through the bars he fastened a leash to the collar, and pulled her out of the cage. The need to stand up and stretch was overwhelming, but it was impossible.
The knee pads saved scratching her soft knees on the rough floor. Sturdy chains linked the knee pads to the pads on her hands, with chains linking her knees to elbows. Her ankles were bent back as they were shackled tightly to her thighs.
Not only couldn't she stand, or stretch, the mittens prevented her from removing the device. She was stuck on all fours, meaning it would be impossible to run away.
Even if she could run, a press of the remote control would have her collapsing on the ground. The devious bastard had her trapped!
She could see how even crawling out of the barn, was a treat for Patty. The sun had risen, announcing the usual clear sunny morning. It was still cool, so the sun felt pleasantly warming. The fresh air too, was welcoming.
"How do you like your new paws, pet-girl?" he asked.
It was impossible to answer without spitting anger at him, so she kept quiet.
They stopped over a board with a hole in the middle. The stink told her what it was. She felt him fiddling with the tail until it was pulled free. That was something else she would have to learn; how to get the damn thing out. She had tried last night and given up.
"Hurry up, or the tail goes back in," he told her.
It was a necessary evil, though he seemed to find it more uncomfortable than she did. Peeing and shitting wasn't something to be performed in front of anyone, but it seemed to irritate him, so she didn't mind. Out of necessity he wiped her bottom and thighs, as she couldn't reach. It would have been another humiliation, except he carried it out in a practical manor.
They continued a tour of the garden, presenting her with the opportunity to scrutinize her prison yard for possible escape routes.
He sat down on a bench in the walled garden. It was private and peaceful here. The grounds-man tended it occasionally, with an instruction not to enter the small barn. He was afraid enough for his job, to obey the boss's only son. All seemed perfect, in a world he was creating for himself.
Two beautiful blondes were his. One ready to obey his every whim, with the other at his feet, ready to be trained. Owning one was good, but owning two little pet-girls was an unexpected bonus. That this second one had come looking for his pet, to rescue her, was ironic.
He smiled at the pet, while gently stroking its long blonde hair.
Angela was furtively looking around, noting where the only gate was located. It would have to be used, as scaling the wall would be impossible. Even if something could be used to climb it, there was a long drop the other side,.
Only vaguely aware of him stroking her hair, it was nevertheless calming. Her breathing returned to normal, after the exertion of inexpertly crawling around the garden. This was another demeaning trick he had taught her. Perhaps she could fit the harness loosely enough to escape from it, ready for an opportunity to run away.
Feeling a hand slide under her belly, her body tensed. With a tight grip of the leash, she was going nowhere, so had to endure it. The hand slid up to a breast, and cupped it. He bounced the hanging breast in the palm of his hand, feeling its fullness and weight. He gently squeezed a nipple between his fingers.
Despite the horridness of this uninvited mauling of her body, her nipples responded. They became swollen, though she couldn't blame it on the cold, for the garden was warming up, as she was. How long had it been since having a boyfriend? Thinking of a sexual partner wasn't helping.
He let go of her breast to stroke her back. The feathery massage brought her breathing rate up. Finger tips stroked her backbone, down between her cheeks, and back again. Round her neck, and behind her ears, to start over again. Eventually she relaxed, giving in to the nice sensations.
This time his fingers lightly skirted her tail, to trace over her thighs. She held her breath, expecting him to lunge at her sex. Instead he circled it, teasing with finger tip touches, just missing the most tender place.
At last he cupped her lips, and held her sex in the palm of his hand. It was a surprise to hear the outrush of breath. Only then realizing she had been holding it, in anticipation. How could she be wet, from being molested by this boy?
She was both angry and bewildered. She kept perfectly still, not wanting to encourage him, yet wanting something more.
"This will have to be shaved," he whispered, close to her ear.
The warm breath tickling the soft hairs of neck and ear, exposed a weakness, when she softly moaned.
"I'll shave it bald, ready for my use," he calmly informed her.
Angela bit back a response, knowing it was the vile words, 'Yes, Sir'. Despite the heartfelt effort to hold back, a deep meaningful sigh betrayed her.
The efforts of men her own age to seduce her, had failed. She had been too busy building her business over the last year or so, to get involved. Yet this young boy had conquered her.
Underestimating him, as a mere eighteen year old, had cost her dearly. Everything had been stripped away. Clothes, dignity, and her freedom was lost. He intended to take her persona, and mold it to fit his needs. It was more than being subsumed into a possessive marriage, or a melding of two lovers.
At that moment she was willing to submit, even if it was crudely called mating. Even if she had to call him master. After all, he had captured her, and mastered her. She could feel basic animal instincts taking over, swamping the frail veneer of civilized behavior. She was on heat, needing to be mated, wanting to be his bitch.