. 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.
