The Lapdog Ch. 05

Miss Davenport noticed Lisa's increasing desire for bondage and submission and, unsurprisingly, she was perfectly willing to indulge her pet. Carla had an endless supply of bondage equipment, the money to buy what she didn't have, and the imagination to make what she couldn't buy. Lisa never knew exactly what Miss was going to come up with, which only added to the excitement.

One day Lisa went to keep her owner company while she did her morning workout. Lisa admired her mistress as they walked to the exercise room. In her sports bra and leggings with her hair pulled back Miss reminded her of an Amazon, ready to catch Lisa and make her her prisoner. Lisa was so lucky to have such a beautiful owner. Maybe after Miss exercised she would...

Lisa's fantasies about her mistress were interrupted as she saw that there was now a small, low cage in the center of the exercise room. Cages weren't new to Lisa, there was a dog crate upstairs that Miss kept her in when they had visitors so that she wouldn't "get into trouble". Like so much of Lisa's life, her crate was luxurious and inescapable. It was lined with pink cushions that were as soft as a cloud, but the latch on the door could not be worked with her paws, and the polished wooden bars were reinforced with steel. While her important owner met with her guests, Lisa would sit in her cage, peering out through the bars as she awaited her mistress's return. But this cage was different, a thing of cold iron that belonged in the dark ages.

Before Lisa knew it, she was in the cage on all-fours, staring up at her mistress. She began to ask Carla what she had in mind, but before she could speak Miss Davenport stuffed a wad of cloth between her lips. Lisa used her tongue to explore the silken panties that filled her mouth, gasping softly as she tasted her mistress's juices. Carla leaned over and whispered into her ear.

"Keep those in your mouth like a good girl and I'll let you cum."

Miss Davenport locked the door to Lisa's cage with a huge iron padlock. Then she hung the key around her neck and began her workout. As Carla exercised, the key dangling back and forth between her breasts, Lisa watched on from her tiny cage. She couldn't stand up. She couldn't move. She couldn't speak. She couldn't do anything...except suck on her owner's wet panties.

Every so often Lisa's mistress passed by her cage, reaching through the bars as she went from one exercise machine to another. Stroking her back. Caressing her. Teasing her. Lisa moaned with every touch, her voice muffled by her mistress's panties. After Miss Davenport had finished her workout, she reached again into Lisa's cage. This time her hands made their way towards her pet's crotch...

Lisa's escapades with Carla only served to lower her inhibitions even further. After all, Miss Davenport had already driven Lisa to orgasm, played bondage games with her, watched and encouraged her as she tried to masturbate, and touched and caressed every inch of her body on a daily basis. The idea that Lisa should be shy around her mistress seemed increasingly ridiculous. There was no reason to conceal her sexuality, or herself. Miss already knew every part of Lisa's body, and every part of her body belonged to Miss.

But Lisa's sexual mores weren't the only thing that was changing. She also became, for lack of a better word, comfortable with Miss Davenport. She was already emotionally dependent on her owner in every way. But the passage of time helped her to feel uniquely at ease when she was with her mistress. When Lisa had first awoken to find herself a pet, her relationship with Carla had been tinged with fear. Her owner had total control over every aspect of her life, and knew everything that she did. Miss Davenport was unpredictable, and there was no telling what she might decide to do with her new toy.

Time had taught Lisa to trust her mistress. Although Miss Davenport had a talent for the unexpected and the peculiar, she never actually did anything unsafe with her pet. In fact, she was very protective of her lapdog. Lisa no longer feared the possibility of punishment, either. She had come to understand that Miss didn't enjoy shocking her, and that even in the early days she had only done so when Lisa had openly defied her. As a result, Lisa wasn't worried about being punished. Miss would never punish a good girl like her.

For Lisa, fear had been replaced by faith. Faith that her mistress would take care of her, and that Miss wanted her to be happy. That faith was backed up by experience; Miss Davenport delighted in giving her lapdog the best of everything, and that included looking after her emotional well-being. If Lisa was upset, Miss would cheer her up, and if she was scared, Miss would make her feel safe. Because of that, Lisa grew to be as open with her emotions as she was with her body. Much like a real dog, deception was becoming foreign to her. Whether she was happy or sad or horny or frightened, she rarely concealed how she felt. The solution to any problem could be found in her mistress's arms.

Miss Davenport never directly addressed the changes taking place in Lisa. But it was obvious how attached she had become to her pet. She found a place for Lisa in nearly every part of her day, to the point where they were practically inseparable. Aside from the rare occasions when Miss Davenport had guests over, the only time when they were apart for any length of time was when Carla had to go out on business, and even that happened less and less. Miss Davenport went to fewer meetings outside of her home than she used to, preferring conference calls and virtual meetings at her desk. Lisa lay on her dog blanket by her mistress's side, invisible to the camera but always present. But Carla's enthusiasm for her pet eventually showed itself in another way.

It started out as a typical morning. They had finished breakfast and were having coffee in the sitting room; Miss Davenport from a cup, and Lisa from her dish on the floor.

Carla called out to her chef as she sipped on her drink. "Rosibel, would you be good enough to brew us another pot of coffee? I'm expecting company."

Lisa looked up from her coffee dish. "Should I go upstairs to my cage, Miss?"

Lisa's dog crate had a pressure sensor in the corner beneath its cushioned floor. Whenever her busy mistress was entertaining guests, Lisa would crawl into her cage and push the switch with her paw, causing the door to slam shut. Once she had been locked in her cage, Lisa was there to stay until Miss decided to let her out. It was an eloquent statement on just how docile Lisa had become that she could be trusted to imprison herself on command. But today, her owner had something different in mind.

Miss Davenport smiled. "Go upstairs? Certainly not. I want to show off my lovely pet!"

Lisa froze. There was nothing more important than pleasing her mistress, but the idea of being put on display for one of Miss's guests wasn't just embarrassing, it was frightening. She still remembered the mocking words of the delivery man, and how small and worthless he had made her feel.

"Miss...I..." Lisa tried to tell her owner how she felt, but the words just wouldn't come.

Carla leaned down and gave her a reassuring scratch behind the ear. "It's ok, honey. I'll be here the whole time. I'll lay your favorite blanket next to my chair and you can sit right next to Mistress. Does that make you feel better?"

Lisa looked up at her mistress and gave a timid nod. She still didn't like the idea of being shown to a stranger, but nothing really bad could happen if Miss was there.

A man in a conservative suit soon arrived and was greeted at the door by Miss Davenport, with Lisa by her side. Unsurprisingly, he became somewhat tongue-tied when he saw that there was a scantily clad poodle girl with pink skin standing next to his client. Lisa stared down at the floor so that she didn't have to look at the startled expression on the man's face.

The stares that Lisa attracted always embarrassed her, reminding her of how foolish she looked. The man made his greetings to Miss Davenport, but he didn't say a word to Lisa. Lisa tried to tell herself that it was because Miss was the one that he had an appointment with. Or that he had been surprised by her appearance. But it might also have been because it was obvious that someone like Lisa, with her body on display and a dog collar locked around her neck, had no place in a serious meeting.

I wish Miss had let me stay in my crate where I belong.

As if in response to her thoughts, Miss Davenport took hold of the end of her pet's leash and wrapped it around her hand. To Lisa, it felt like an unspoken reassurance, a silent reminder that she wasn't alone this time. As Carla led her visitor into the sitting room, Lisa kept close beside her and knelt by her mistress's armchair.

Before Miss Davenport sat down, she used a simple knot to tie her pet's leash to the leg of her chair. Lisa gave her a grateful smile. Nothing could be safer than being anchored to where Miss was. Miss Davenport settled into her chair and stroked Lisa's fur with one hand while she talked with her visitor. Lisa felt herself calm down as she leaned into her mistress's touch. Miss was there. Miss took care of her. Miss kept her warm and safe. She didn't have to worry. She didn't even have to think. All she had to do was sit on her favorite dog blanket like a good girl.

Lisa gathered that the man was there to sell Mistress some kind of insurance. However, the conversation took longer than expected; for obvious reasons their visitor found it difficult to maintain his train of thought. Lisa said very little, only speaking when spoken to. Although Miss had made her feel better, she still felt timid and small beneath the man's gaze. She hoped that she wouldn't do anything to embarrass herself, or even worse, to embarrass her mistress.

After the meeting had concluded, the conversation turned to Lisa, much to her discomfort.

"I see you noticed my new pet. Isn't she gorgeous?"

"Err...yes," the man said awkwardly, "some of my other clients have taken advantage of the slavery acts, but I've never seen anything quite like..."

Carla gave her pet's breast a little squeeze. "I know. She's one of a kind. Aren't you, precious?"

Lisa didn't know what to say, so she just looked up at her owner. These days, that always made her feel better.

Carla gave her an indulgent smile and stroked her nose. "You'll have to excuse her. She's still a little shy around strangers."

"Oh, of course," the man said hastily, "I understand."

After the man had gone, Lisa looked up at her mistress from her position on the floor in a silent plea for her owner's approval.

Carla beamed down at her pet. "You were such a good doggie! You made Miss so proud."

Lisa smiled as her mistress praised her and stroked her fur. Miss Davenport took her by the leash and they went up to her home office. As she sat by her mistress, Lisa thought about how it had felt to be shown off to someone else. It hadn't really been that bad after she had overcome her fears. She couldn't exactly say that she'd enjoyed the experience of being put on display. But at the same time, when Mistress had started talking about her, it had made Lisa feel things that were difficult to put into words.

Miss was so proud of Lisa that she wanted people to see her. When she had chatted with her visitor, she hadn't bragged about her house or her antique furniture. All she wanted to talk about was her lapdog. It made Lisa feel that she was her mistress's most prized possession, something so special and so treasured that Miss wanted everyone to know about her. It was a feeling that she could get used to. Perhaps it was even worth the price of being put on display.

In spite of Lisa's devotion to her mistress, her regular sessions with the training machine continued. Lisa had no objections; she had long since come to appreciate the submissive pleasure of being chained up and made to humiliate herself. However, one day she discovered that a change had been made to her routine. The day's session started out normally enough. But about halfway through her training, instead giving Lisa a phrase to repeat, the machine barked at her. For a moment, Lisa sat in silence as she tried to figure out what the training machine wanted from her. Then, in a flash, she realized what she was supposed to do.

"Woof! Woof!"

Lisa blushed beneath her pink-dyed skin. Somehow it felt more demeaning to bark on her own instead of having her collar make her do it. But Lisa gasped in pleasure all the same when the machine gave her her reward. She had been a good dog. Then the machine moved on to another lesson. But mixed in with her lessons were other kinds of dog noises, each more humiliating than the last. Insistent little yaps. High pitched growls that sounded ridiculous instead of assertive. At one point she even had to pant like a dog.

After she had finished her lessons, Lisa decided to watch television for a bit before going up to her mistress's office. It would give her a little time to think about the day's training. Lisa leaned over the voice activated remote.

"On."

Nothing happened. Lisa frowned down at the TV remote, entirely at a loss as to what to do. She had become so used to being helpless that her first reaction to any problem was to ask her mistress to fix it for her. Maybe Miss needed to change the batteries? Or maybe Miss had to adjust something? But then she noticed that there were some new labels on the remote. The one beneath the power button read "Grrr!"

Lisa felt a rush of humiliation as she realized what she was supposed to do. She let out a little growl. The kind of adorable, non-threatening growl that one might hear from a small dog. The kind, Lisa thought as she looked down at herself, that suited a fluffy, ineffectual little lapdog like her. The television switched on as soon as she finished growling. As Lisa barked and yipped to change channels, she thought about the latest addition to her training.

The old Lisa was appalled at how she had been made to degrade herself. She had no illusions that her training sessions would be the end of it, either; no doubt her mistress had something planned for her, and Lisa was sure that it would be thoroughly humiliating. The new Lisa had enjoyed herself, but she was also somewhat confused. Miss could use the collar to turn her speech into barks and growls whenever she wanted. Lisa didn't see the point of being trained to do something that she could be made to do at the push of a button. But as she used her dog noises to work the television, she began to understand.

Miss Davenport didn't just want Lisa to be made to bark, she wanted her to be comfortable with barking, until it seemed as natural as begging for her supper or obeying the pull of her leash. Lisa supposed that considering all the other things that she had done as Miss Davenport's poodle, being asked to make a few dog noises now and then wasn't really that surprising. It made sense in an odd sort of way. Like the rest of her training, it was all about being a better pet for Mistress. And as far as the new Lisa was concerned, there couldn't be anything more important than that.

The old Lisa and the new were in agreement on one thing. Miss Davenport definitely had some end goal in mind. Lisa wasn't given to thinking ahead anymore, but she was still curious about what her mistress had planned. There was no use asking, though; Miss wasn't one to spoil a surprise. Lisa shrugged as she gave a little growl to turn off the television. There was little point in dwelling on the unknown. It wasn't as if she needed to understand what was going on. All that she had to do was to be a good dog and do what she was told. The rest would take care of itself.

The incident with the insurance salesman was the first time that Miss Davenport had shown Lisa off, but it wasn't the last. Whenever people came to visit, Carla delighted in introducing them to her toy poodle. Although the presence of her mistress kept her from being overly frightened, Lisa still wasn't a fan of being shown off. But time helped her to get used to it. Time, and the continued sense that she was her mistress's most prized possession. Her submissive tendencies were useful too; there was a certain thrill to being shown off like a pedigreed dog.

However, being shown to other people only served to further reinforce in Lisa's mind her position as a humble pet. Miss Davenport and her guests would sit and chat and drink their coffee, while Lisa knelt on her brightly-colored dog blanket on the floor and kept silent so as not to disturb them. It seemed unthinkable that a silly pink pet like her would join them in their conversations, or that she was in any way their equal. Lisa was just a lapdog, to be petted by her mistress and shown off to Miss's guests after the day's business was done.

After Lisa had become used to being put on display, Miss Davenport took her pet along with her on some visits to a select group of friends. Although in some cases, friend might have been too strong a word to use. As Lisa had noticed from the beginning, her mistress wasn't a particularly friendly person. She clearly liked a few of the people they visited, but many of the others were more acquaintances than friends. It was obvious that the purpose of these outings wasn't because Carla wanted to see their host, it was because Carla wanted their host to see Lisa.

Being taken to see Miss Davenport's friends was hard on Lisa at first. She was far more comfortable in Miss's home, which now felt like her home too. However, it did help that most of Carla's friends took her appearance in stride; Lisa guessed that they'd known Miss long enough to expect the unusual. In fact, they all seemed to enjoy seeing Carla's new pet. They would compliment Miss Davenport on her dog, and occasionally Lisa would receive a pat on the head and a "good doggie".

There was a time when Lisa would have been horrified by that kind of treatment. But the truth was that after the shocked reactions that she had encountered from people in the past, the calm, friendly condescension of Miss Davenport's friends actually came as a relief. Humiliating as it was, being treated like a dog was something that she was used to. As a result, Lisa gradually became accustomed to her outings. But in one of their visits, she encountered something that she hadn't expected.

They were having dinner at the house of a man named Stephen. Lisa didn't know anything about him, except that judging by the renaissance-era paintings on the walls he was an art collector with money to burn. His home was beautifully decorated, but with a cold, sterile formality that made Lisa feel vaguely uncomfortable. It wasn't the kind of house that someone with a pet would have. The meal had concluded, for which she was thankful; although the food had been good, Lisa hadn't enjoyed eating out of a dog bowl in front of a stranger. But while the meal had been a minor trial, much of Lisa's attention was focused on the woman who had served dinner.

As Lisa knelt beside her mistress, she studied the beautiful redhead who was currently standing silently next to their host with the impassive expression of a dutiful servant. With her classic features and alabaster skin, she reminded Lisa of one of Stephen's paintings. The woman was holding a silver tray with drinks on it, and was dressed in a French maid outfit with an indecently short skirt and a top so low that it came just short of revealing her nipples. From her position on the carpet Lisa could see the maid's neatly trimmed landing strip. Apparently, she was a natural redhead. Around the maid's neck was...a collar.