Becoming His Puppy Slave

Chelsea woke up slowly, like she was coming to after a long and complicated surgery. While no surgery had actually taken place, she had been given a hefty dose of anaesthetic when an older gentleman with grey hair and a smug smirk dosed her in the neck with a syringe. It was as she was putting her groceries away in the trunk, and by the time she had realized what was going on and called for help, the drug had taken hold far too much for her to do much except weakly struggle as her consciousness was taken from her. He took the keys from her hand when she slumped over, sneakily and stealthily hoisted her into the trunk of her own car, and sped away without a fuss.

She woke now, a few hours later, and had started to realize something may not be right. As her vision slowly cleared, she saw that her surroundings were not any she recognized. A small room, with dark blue wallpaper and hardwood floors and fixtures. Had she had a one night stand during a blackout? She hadn't had one of those for years. It was hard for her to remember where she had been last.

She tried to move her arms and legs, to stretch and survey her surroundings, or even to turn to the side and see what handsome stranger might be next to her, but she found she couldn't do much moving at all. She tested her limitations in movement to discover something strange. She was laid on her side, with her arms and legs bent at the elbows and knees respectively. What bent her limbs looked to be a rubber encasement meant specifically for restricting movement to all fours. Her hands had also been locked in what looked and felt like soft brown mittens. The kind you wear in winter.

Even stranger, in her slowly-clearing fog she could see a strange, mid-sized metal box she seemed to be encased in. She wasn't in a bed at all. Nor was she wearing any clothing. She was in some kind of....

Was she in a cage?!

Just as she began to fully realize her predicament she opened her mouth to shout for help, only to realize one last sinister detail: She had some sort of gag in. There looked to be a valve in the front of the gag with an unknown purpose, and the circular gag protruded far enough into her mouth to restrict the wearer to muted moans or yelping.

She began to panic, coming fully to, her fear and confusion at an alarming level. She moaned as she 'stood up' on her elbows and knees, tears forming and springing from her eyes, her face turning red.

"Relax, sweetness."

Chelsea shrieked as she turned as far as her restraints would allow in her cage. Shrouded in the low-lighting of the far right corner of the room stood a greying, aging man who looked in his early sixties. He looked tall, probably well over 6-feet, strong for his age, with almost impossibly broad shoulders. He probably played football at some point.

She cried and shook in anger and confusion from the floor as he approached her with a warm smile. She moaned unintelligible garbles at him from behind her well-tightened gag.

He approached the cage until he landed less than a foot from her face. He crouched down so his face was closer to hers down in her cage, but tall enough that she still had to crane her neck to see him.

"No need to scream, my darling. Shhh, shhh now. You're all right, sweet girl. I'm not going to hurt you--" he soothed overtop her desperate and confused flailing and moaning.

"--if you'd just relax, I can explain what's happened to you, beautiful girl. But if you can't quiet down and listen, I'll have to subdue you."

"HOW CAN YOU POSSIBLY SUBDUE ME ANY MORE THAN THIS, YOU FUCKING PSYCHOTIC FUCK. LET ME GO, WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?!" is what Chelsea would have said, if she was permitted to speak. Instead, what came out was more like "MMMMMM MMMMMMH MMM GUHHuHHHMMMMMM MMMMUH?!"

The man chuckled as he pulled out a small grey remote.

"I hope I only have to do this once, sweetie. Brace yourself." He said as he pressed down on the only button on the remote.

If Chelsea hadn't been aware of the fact that she was wearing a collar before, she certainly became aware as the button on the remote activated the shock sensors in the thick leather and metal band around her neck. Chelsea convulsed, her eyes lolling temporarily to the back of her head, completely incapacitated by the intense and unbearable pain that coursed through her body. She shrieked briefly as the shock took hold.

"This hurts me to do to you, much more than it hurts you to endure. Yet we must both endure, sweetness," he crooned to her as her convulsions continued.

"I want you to listen to me as your pain subsides. If you bark again, you'll get another ouchie. Do you understand?" There was a brief pause before Chelsea mustered up the strength to nod her head.

"There's a good girl. There's a good, good little girl. My smart girl--" he reached into the cage and gently scratched and stroked the side of her face. She winced at his soft fingers caressing her left cheek. The look in his eyes as he spoke to her was chilling. This was mostly because of how eerily kind his eyes looked; as if he was doing Chelsea a favour by taking the time to explain her fate to her.

"I am the proud owner of many beautiful, talented puppy girls. I adopt them, tame them, and train them. My puppy girls perform for me at a variety of competitions across the country. It is my life's passion, and what brings me true joy." his eyes shone down on her, already obsessed with his new toy.

"When I saw you a few weeks ago at our grocery store, you immediately captivated me. With my decades of experience grooming prized show dogs, I could tell immediately you had the ideal physique and temperament to be a successful, money-making pet. You will be trained over the next several weeks and months to join my kennel of puppy girls."

He continued to stroke her through the cage as he spoke. Chelsea listened, frightened beyond belief at the thought of what lay ahead, all while this deranged man explained her fate to her. She let out an involuntary moan, and the crying started again. What the fuck was this, she didn't want this. She wished she could move. She was panicking again, and wide-eyed.

"Now, now, keep calm for me. I understand this will be difficult to adjust to. I recognize that, and I'm sympathetic. While it will take some adjusting, and while it is a drastic change, in time you will learn to love your new purpose. Your life will be simple, and full of pleasure. It will involve lots of hard work, and will require lots of sacrifice, but once you accept your true nature and fully accept your place as my pet and my property, you will feel immense fulfillment serving me and recognizing me as your owner."

Chelsea continued to cry, but kept her moans and sobs to a minimum. She feared the sting of the shock collar.

"One last thing before I sedate you for the night. As my pet, you'll need to relinquish your old name, and take on a new identity. Thankfully I've already chosen a beautiful new name for you, darling. You'll now be known as Butterscotch." His wide smile scared the shit out of her. This fucker was serious.

"I've never had a pet with such beautiful tanned skin before, like butterscotch. It suits you perfectly."

Chelsea shook her head, silently pleading with her eyes.

"Does my pet puppy like her new name? Nod your head yes, or you'll be shocked again." Chelsea shrieked, nodding her head quickly.

"Bark, Butterscotch."

Chelsea hesitated for a moment, her petite, 5'1 frame was vibrating in fear. She understood what he wanted, and she'd have given anything to be able to disobey. Still, she feared another shock.

"Arf! Woof woof!" Chelsea squeaked out, hoping it would suffice.

"Good girl. You're already obeying so quickly. What a smart animal you are." He pat her head, like he was rewarding her. She whimpered, contemplating what her future might look like.

"I'm going to put you down for a nap now, Butterscotch. When you wake, we'll begin your training. What an exciting time this is. I'm honoured to own you, Butter. You're my beautiful animal. Never forget I love you, even when my training gets difficult. Your purpose is my happiness, my happiness is your happiness. Your life belongs to me. You'll join your chained puppy sisters, and you'll be grateful for my tight leash. Yes you will, my puppy. My good, obedient barker. My good, good Butterscotch. Yes, sweetie. Here comes the needle, just a little pinch and it's over. Relax, and accept it." he soothed and stroked her head and breasts as he slid another syringe into her neck.

"Goodnight, Butterscotch," he whispered as she faded away into another abyss. "Welcome to the rest of your life."