The Lapdog Ch. 06

Chapter 6: The Last Surprise

Lisa shivered in the cold mud as she pawed at the heavy iron chain that tethered her to her doghouse. A chastity belt had been locked onto her, denying her the solace of even a moment of pleasure. The people that passed by all stared at her in contempt. Several of them took photos to share with their friends. Every single one of them was someone from Lisa's past. She knew them, and they knew her. A few of the passersby had dogs with them. Even the dogs were better off than her, for they had won the approval of their masters. Lisa wasn't allowed to be with Mistress, she was being punished. But the worst part was, she deserved to be punished...

Lisa woke from her nightmare and shuddered. That had been a bad one. Then she realized that this time, the horror of her dream hadn't come from being a dog. It had come from the idea of being a bad dog.

She shouldn't have been surprised. Although Lisa still hadn't entirely rid herself of the woman that she had once been, she was more pet than person now, and that had affected the nature of her hopes and fears. The old Lisa was afraid of being a pet. The new Lisa embraced her life as Miss Davenport's pampered poodle, and worried about what all dogs worry about - pleasing her owner.

Nightmares or no nightmares, Lisa had no reason to be concerned on that account. It was obvious that Carla was delighted with her lapdog. Miss Davenport never seemed to run out of ways to spoil her pet, and she continued to show Lisa off with all of the enthusiasm of the owner of a new dog. Lisa was still uneasy at times about being put on display, but she took comfort in knowing that it was just one more sign of her mistress's affection for her.

Lisa even began to enjoy some of her visits, depending on the circumstances. She still wasn't a fan of being seen by strangers, but Miss's friends were a different matter. By now, Lisa had been introduced to most of the small group of people that Miss Davenport genuinely liked, if you could call wagging your tail an introduction, and she knew that she had nothing to worry about.

In fact, her mistress's friends were all quite fond of her. Master Stephen always seemed to have some of Lisa's favorite truffles close at hand, and another of Miss's friends, a woman named Vanessa, even purchased a heated blanket and dog bowl for when they visited her. Lisa may have lost her dignity, but she couldn't deny that she was a far more popular dinner guest as a dog than she had been as a stockbroker.

Miss Davenport loved to show people her lapdog so much that eventually, after Lisa had become more accustomed to visiting, she began to take her pet with her to some of her business meetings. These occasions were always hard on Lisa. The offices that they went to, which in her former job would have seemed commonplace, were now forbidding. They reminded Lisa too much of her old life, and they were full of successful businesswomen who reminded her too much of her old self. Everyone stared at her. It was undoubtedly the first time that any of them had seen a girl dressed like a slutty poodle. But it wasn't the first time that they had seen a slavegirl, which did make things a little bit easier.

Personal slaves were very much a luxury commodity, but Miss Davenport's wealthy contacts were the sort of people who could afford them. Occasionally, Lisa would even see another slave at the meetings that they went to. Usually they were personal assistants, pleasure slaves, or, more often than not, a mixture of the two. Of course, none of their owners had dyed them pink and turned them into a dog, but Lisa still felt more comfortable at the meetings where she wasn't the only slavegirl present.

Miss Davenport also did her part to make things easier on her lapdog. Prior to leaving for a meeting, Mistress would caress her and brush her, while whispering nice things in her ear about what a pretty poodle she was. During the meeting, Lisa would sit on the floor next to her owner so that she could be petted. As always, Lisa enjoyed the attention, but it also gave her a sense of reassurance. The touch of Miss Davenport's hand was a tactile reminder that she was with her mistress, and Mistress meant safety and pleasure and all good things.

Even so, these meetings were still something of a trial. However, one day something happened that made Lisa feel much better about attending business functions with her mistress. Miss Davenport was attending a high-level shareholder's meeting for a company that she had stock in. Lisa meekly followed the pull of her leash as she was led through the firm's offices on their way to the boardroom. She stared down at the floor and tried not to dwell on what the people they passed must be thinking as they saw a pink girl with paws and a tail trotting behind her owner, her breasts bouncing up and down as she walked.

Lisa and her mistress took their places at the conference table; Miss Davenport in a comfortable leather chair, and Lisa by her side on the thick carpet. Lisa felt thoroughly out of place. She was painfully aware that she didn't belong at this or any other meeting. The men and women, all of whom were dressed in expensive suits, sat around the boardroom table and spoke confidently as they discussed the business at hand. Meanwhile, Lisa, nothing more than her mistress's accessory, sat on the floor with her voice switched off so that she wouldn't disturb anyone important.

She consoled herself with the knowledge that at least this time she wasn't the only slavegirl at the meeting. On the other side of the room was a tall, pretty Asian woman in an extremely revealing secretary outfit. The tight skirt that she was squeezed into was so short that the bottoms of her ass cheeks were visible. A fine chain leash went up between her long legs, and Lisa could guess what it was attached to. The other end of the leash was held by a sour-faced blonde who looked like she never smiled. Lisa tried to catch her fellow slave's eye, but she was preoccupied with waiting on her mistress.

Lisa didn't pay attention to what the meeting was about. She had gotten good at not listening to that kind of thing. Paying attention to business discussions only made her think about the person that she had once been and was no longer, and those weren't nice thoughts to have. It was far better to focus on more pleasant subjects, like where her mistress was going to take her for lunch afterwards, or memories of her last visit with Deborah and Michelle, or how beautiful Miss looked today. It was like a kind of aversion therapy. Thinking like a businesswoman made Lisa feel bad about herself, so over time she had stopped doing it.

By now, the impulse had become automatic, to the point where she couldn't concentrate on a conversation about finance even if she wanted to. On the rare occasion that she tried, her mind soon wandered towards thoughts of her mistress, and of her next orgasm. But although Lisa didn't know what the meeting was about, it was obvious that it wasn't going well. Voices were raised, and Miss had that neutral expression on her face that she got when she was annoyed but didn't want to show it.

In spite of her skill at enforcing her own ignorance, as the proceedings continued, Lisa began to feel even worse about how out of place she was. Her fellow slave was spending the meeting frantically scribbling down notes for her mistress. The secretary didn't look like she was enjoying herself at all, but at least she had a reason for being there. However, as the meeting grew more and more tense, something that Miss Davenport had once told Lisa popped into her head.

I do the thinking. You just sit there like a good girl and cheer me up.

Without making a sound, Lisa crawled a little closer to her mistress and nuzzled her leg. Just to remind Miss that her pet was there, for whenever she wanted her. As Miss Davenport listened to one of the other board members, she began to stroke Lisa on the head. Lisa submitted to her mistress's touch with a smile. She felt the tenseness in Miss's hand...and she felt it diminish the longer Miss Davenport ran her fingers through her pet's fur. Carla leaned back in her chair and returned her attention to the meeting with the hint of a smile on her face.

It was a very small thing for Miss Davenport. But to Lisa, it was a triumph. She had proven to herself that she did belong at that meeting. Lisa was there to put a smile on her mistress's face, and to help her to de-stress from the pressures of work. It made Lisa feel like she was part of the team, that even though she might just be a silly pink pet, she was able to help her owner in her own small way. Lisa still often felt uncomfortable in the offices that they visited. But from then on, she was sure of one thing: in the home or in the office, her place was at her mistress's side.

Of course, these outings were the exception, not the rule. Their occasional visits aside, Miss wasn't a particularly sociable person, and as a result Lisa could usually be found at home with her mistress. Lisa found that her life with Miss seemed to get better and better with each passing day. Time was one reason.

There were only so many hours in the day, and at first, Miss Davenport had had to spend much of her time turning Lisa into her lapdog. However, as Lisa became ever more doglike, her mistress was able to spend less time creating her pet, and more time enjoying her pet. As always, when Miss Davenport decided to enjoy herself, she ensured that Lisa had as much fun as she did.

Another factor was that, just as Lisa had come to know her mistress, her mistress had come to know her. Miss knew what she liked, and what she didn't like. She knew her favorite foods and activities. She knew her fears and desires. She knew her kinks and turn-ons. And she knew every inch of her pet's body; by now Miss Davenport was able to play Lisa like a musical instrument, her skilled hands dancing across her pet's skin until she could barely think.

Lisa's sex drive was stronger than ever, to the point where she was insatiable. She had long since lost the battle to reign in her desires; her habit of touching herself with her paws had become uncontrollable. Of course, the activities that Miss Davenport chose for her pet only increased her arousal. Carla had an inventive and devious mind, and she was always coming up with new ideas that pushed every submissive button in Lisa's head.

Lisa no longer felt any shame about begging to be allowed to cum, and she had no fears that her pleas would go unanswered. Although her mistress liked to tease her on occasion, Miss Davenport was not one to deprive her pet of anything for long, least of all pleasure. But she did put into place a new rule. Lisa was no longer allowed to use words to ask for an orgasm.

If Lisa wanted to cum, she had to beg like an animal. How much begging she had to do depended on Miss Davenport's mood. Sometimes a quick whine was enough. On other occasions, when Miss was feeling playful, Lisa would have to resort to stronger measures. Miss Davenport would make an elaborate pretense that she didn't know what her pet wanted, while Lisa barked and whimpered and pawed at her mistress with pleading eyes like a dog begging for a treat. When Lisa was finally allowed to have an orgasm, her pleasure was all the greater for knowing that she had earned it by humiliating herself for her mistress's amusement.

Lisa loved this new game that Miss had come up with. But it was also yet another way in which barking like a dog had become routine. Naturally, Lisa still talked to Miss Davenport, but she had also begun to use little barks and whines to express her feelings. Miss liked that, and so did she. There was something uniquely intimate about using dog noises to communicate with her mistress. It allowed her to display her emotions in their purest, simplest form, without concealment or reservation.

Lisa learned that barking could be useful, too. As she became more submissive, and more in awe of her mistress, Lisa found that she often became bashful and tongue-tied when Miss asked her a question, leaving her unable to do anything but nod or shake her head. She felt comfortable expressing herself to her mistress, but somehow the words just wouldn't come. Dog noises seemed to provide her with a solution. They were a way for Lisa to tell Mistress how she felt when she couldn't think of what to say.

Lisa's life, while strange, was one that she usually enjoyed. She had even learned to like many of her visits. But one day, in one of Carla's business meetings at home, something finally happened that Lisa had been afraid of ever since her first day as Miss Davenport's property.

Lisa was thankful afterwards that the meeting was at Miss's house. The experience was terrible enough as it was; it would have been unbearable had it taken place in a busy office. The meeting started out ordinarily enough. It had already been a long, busy day, but Miss Davenport had one more appointment that she had had to squeeze into her schedule.

Carla went to show in her guest while Lisa finished up a rather nice snack that Miss had left in her dog bowl. After Miss Davenport had returned, she attached Lisa's leash and led her into the room on all fours. Ever the obedient dog, Lisa followed her mistress and sat down next to her chair so that Miss could pet her during the meeting. She looked up from her position on the floor...and felt the blood in her veins turn to ice.

Megan.

For the most part, prior to being turned into a pet, Lisa hadn't worked with the same group of people as Carla. But Lisa had known that eventually she would be confronted with someone from her previous life. There had been the delivery man, and that was bad enough, but she hadn't really known him. Megan was different.

Before she started her own business, Lisa had worked at the same company as Megan. Lisa had been the rising star, Megan the intern who brought the coffee. Megan had respected her. Looked up to her. After she had graduated from college and gotten hired full time, she had even asked Lisa for career advice. Now, Megan stood before her, dressed in a conservative pantsuit and shaking hands with Miss Davenport, while Lisa sat on all-fours with a dog collar wrapped around her neck.

Megan gasped as she got a better look at Lisa.

Don't recognize me, don't recognize me, don't recognize me...

"Lisa? Is that you?"

Lisa stared down at the floor in shame. Her usual submissive thrill from being a pet had been shattered. She wasn't a cherished companion, she was just a worthless slave in a ridiculous costume. She didn't want to see Megan. She didn't want to see anyone.

Carla smiled. "Oh, you've met? Yes, things weren't working out for her, so I decided to buy her and make her my lapdog. She's so much happier now that I'm looking after her. Such a good girl too. Just perfect. I couldn't ask for a better pet."

Megan stared in silence, utterly dumbfounded by what she saw. The corner of her mouth twitched as if she was about to burst out laughing.

Miss Davenport ran her hand over Lisa's back. "You can pet her if you like. She's quite tame."

Megan leaned down and gave Lisa an awkward pat on the head. "I...um...it's nice to see you again, Lisa. I hope you're happy in your new...life."

Then she sat down at the table and began her meeting with Carla. Megan didn't say anything else about Lisa. She was there on business, and obviously she had no idea how to talk about Miss Davenport's unusual pet in a way that wouldn't risk offending her. But her eyes kept sliding in Lisa's direction, and her voice quavered every once in a while as she struggled to keep from giggling at the sight of Lisa Andrews, stockbroker, painted pink and dressed like a poodle. Lisa couldn't stop herself from imagining Megan standing around the watercooler with her co-workers, regaling them with the story of her meeting with Miss Davenport.

A dog costume?

Yeah, but like, a really skimpy dog costume. The kind that...well, let's just say that you could tell that Carla didn't buy her for her brains.

This is Lisa Andrews, you're talking about, right? Used to work here, gave that talk at last year's conference?

That's the one. I couldn't believe it either. She used to act like she was such a big deal, and there she was, half-naked, sitting on her hands and knees with a tail stuck to her ass! Anyway, so then, Davenport actually had me pet her.

Seriously?

I know! It took everything I had to keep a straight face. You should have seen her. It's a shame I didn't have some dog biscuits with me...

Lisa pulled herself away from her daydream, but reality wasn't much better. As she spoke with her guest, Miss Davenport stroked Lisa's cheek and ran her fingers through her fur. She seemed even more attentive than usual; she must have noticed how upset her pet was. Lisa tried to focus on the touch of her mistress's hand, but even that couldn't calm her nerves. She didn't want to hear. She didn't want to see. Lisa thought back to her first day in Miss's home office, of how terrible it had been to be reminded of the career that she had lost, and how much better she had felt when...

It was a foolish idea. It would make her look even worse in front of Megan. But did that really matter anymore? Lisa had already been reduced from a successful businesswoman to a glorified sex toy; she'd already hit rock bottom. She crawled under the table and pawed at her mistress's skirt, as if to lift it, and looked up at her with a pleading expression.

It took Miss Davenport a moment to understand what Lisa wanted. She gave her lapdog a reassuring smile, and lifted up her skirt at an angle where Megan wouldn't be able to see what she was doing. Lisa huddled between her mistress's legs as Miss Davenport pulled her black leather skirt back down around her, trapping her in its tight embrace.

It was a childish thing to do, Lisa thought to herself, behaving as if blinding herself to the outside world would make it go away. But it made her feel better, and right now that was all she cared about. Inside her mistress's skirt, she couldn't see Megan, and her voice was muffled to the point where it could be easily ignored. The outside world seemed far away. Less real, somehow. The only things that mattered were within the shelter of her owner's skirt. The feel of her mistress's legs wrapped around her. The faint sound of her voice. The warmth of her body. The scent of her juices.

Lisa began to lick her mistress's crotch, using slow, delicate strokes. She took great care not to drive her owner to orgasm. She didn't want to disturb Miss's meeting, or to provoke a reaction that would let Megan know what she was doing. But by now Lisa was skilled enough with her tongue to provide her mistress with just enough pleasure to entertain her. It felt wonderful to taste Miss's juices, and to bury her face in her crotch so that her mistress's scent filled her nostrils. If it had been possible, Lisa would have bathed in her mistress's juices until they permeated her skin, until every part of her had been unmistakably marked as Miss Davenport's possession.

Lisa felt a kind of Zen-like calm descend over her as she licked her mistress's pussy with such care and reverence that it was almost an act of worship. Crouched between her owner's legs, it was easy to forget that anyone else existed other than Mistress. Miss was all there was, and all that mattered.

After the meeting wound down, Miss Davenport got up and led Megan to the door, leaving her pet still huddled under the table. Megan said goodbye to Lisa, but Lisa didn't even look at her. Her mind was still inside her mistress's skirt. Megan wasn't someone she wanted to see.