The Lapdog Ch. 03

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.