Chapter 5: The Person and the Petgirl
Lisa thought to herself that she would rather be
anywhere
but on display at the annual dog show. But there was nothing she could do about it. Lisa sat on all-fours on her table and submitted in silence to the primping of her handler. Her handler. Lisa winced. She wished that the people running the show had chosen someone else.
Her only hope was that it would all be over soon and that Miss would return to take her home. The crowds surrounded Lisa and the real dogs that were on the other tables, but it was her that everyone was staring at. She tried not to pay attention to the fragments of conversation that rose above the roar of the audience.
"...heard she gets off on this. Shameless little..."
"I bet if I got her some dog chow, she'd..."
"...her on the end of my leash. Look at the size of those..."
Lisa straightened up and put the mockery of the crowd behind her as she saw the judge and the announcer walking towards her. She didn't want to let Miss down. Lisa froze as she saw that there was a cameraman with them. She glanced at a nearby screen and, to her despair, saw the reason why. The dog show was being televised this year.
On the screen was an old photo of her dressed in a conversative pantsuit that exuded confidence and professionalism. As Lisa watched, the picture was replaced with a live video of her as she was now, sitting on her table on her hands and knees with brightly-colored ribbons woven into her fur. The camera zoomed in on her pink-dyed face, framed by her poodle wig and dog collar. Everyone that Lisa had ever known or met, everyone who had ever respected her, everyone who had thought that she was someone worth listening to, would see on their television the meek, obedient pet that she had become. Lisa whimpered as she read the caption at the bottom of the screen.
Lisa Andrews: Woman trades high finance for doggie treats
"And now we've come to the toy division of this year's show. Our first entry is Lisa, a poodle owned by Carla Davenport. Miss Davenport couldn't be here today, so Lisa's being presented by one of our handlers, George Wilson, who I understand used to know Lisa in quite a different way. Isn't that right, George?"
George smiled and gave Lisa a little tap on the ass, causing her tail to swing back and forth. "Yes, back when she was a stray, Lisa used to work in the office down the hall from me. You should have seen her. She looked so cute, sitting behind her desk, just like a real person. Naturally, though, the poor thing was totally unable to cope. You could see that it was only a matter of time before she got herself into trouble. It was so kind of Miss Davenport to rescue her and bring her into her home. Now that Lisa's got her paws and tail, she doesn't need to worry her silly little head with anything other than entertaining her mistress with all of her antics.
Of course, Miss Davenport had to train her first. I gave you some snapshots of that, didn't I?"
Lisa looked on in horror as the television began to show pictures of her time as a pet, while George narrated for the benefit of the audience. There was a photo of her eating out of a dog bowl. There was a picture of her peeing on the grass. And there was one with her face buried in her mistress's crotch. The presentation ended with a photo of Lisa on her knees staring up at the camera, with her paws in begging position and an idiotic grin plastered on her pink face.
"There's our Lisa, nice and tame, and right where she belongs!"
The announcer looked down at her with a patronizing smile then turned to the camera. "Well, thanks for telling us all about Lisa. I'm sure she's happier now that she's found her place and has a nice owner to look after her. Let's talk with our judge. Can you tell us a bit about this breed?"
The judge patted Lisa on the head. "Well, in terms of personality, they're generally quite docile. You don't see them in the wild, as they have no survival skills. This breed is generally unintelligent, and Lisa here is definitely no exception."
The announcer laughed. "Yes, she doesn't look any too bright!"
Lisa squirmed in humiliation as she heard some giggles from the crowd.
"True. Lisa's obviously incapable of surviving on her own or thinking for herself. However, observe her responsiveness."
She gasped as the judge thrust his hand between her legs, while the crowd laughed and laughed...
Lisa's strange nightmares continued. However, there was one notable difference. Her dreams used to start with her believing that she was free, or at the very least that she was no longer a pet, only to learn otherwise in some frightening or humiliating fashion. But now her nightmares began with her already knowing that she was Miss Davenport's lapdog. Even in her dreams, she remained a toy poodle, with her mistress's collar sealed around her neck and her hands forever imprisoned in soft pink paws. Perhaps it was because increasingly that was how Lisa saw herself. More and more she looked at herself not as a stockbroker who was behaving like a pet, but as a pet who had once been a stockbroker.
Of course, she wasn't
all
pet. At least, not yet. There were two Lisas - the person that she had been, and the pet that she was becoming. As the days passed, there was less of the old Lisa and more of the new. The old Lisa was still there, trying desperately to keep herself from becoming any more doglike than she already was. But that Lisa was fighting a losing battle. After all, she didn't have much to offer.
The person that Lisa had once been felt shame at what she had become. She used to be successful and respected. Now she was a slave who had to wear a humiliating dog costume for her owner's amusement. Even worse, Lisa's poodle outfit left her without the slightest degree of independence. She couldn't even bathe or feed herself. But the worst part was that there was no hope of going back to the way things were. Her costume, and her life, was a soft, comfortable prison from which there was no parole and no escape.
The old Lisa protested bitterly to herself that she wasn't
meant
to be a dog. That she should be ashamed of how she humiliated herself to satisfy Miss Davenport's slightest whim, and that she should be even more ashamed of how much she enjoyed that humiliation. But in the end, those silent protests were the extent of Lisa's defiance. She was too far gone to do anything else. By now Lisa was too submissive and too well-trained to disobey her mistress, or even to argue with her. She had long since given up on trying to do things for herself, and she was beginning to forget how to
think
for herself. Which only increased the old Lisa's despair.
By contrast, the new Lisa was enjoying herself. She felt no shame in submitting to her mistress. She didn't concern herself with what she was
supposed
to want, only with what she
did
want. She was able to admit to herself that she loved being a pet. She loved the pleasures that she received. She loved the thousand humiliations that made those pleasures all the more exciting. And...she loved being with Miss. As time went on, the battle between the old Lisa and the new came down to a simple question. Did she want to be an unhappy person, or a happy pet?
As Lisa became used to her new life, and as her relationship with her mistress grew, the answer seemed increasingly obvious. Of course, Lisa the person questioned whether being kept as a slave and treated like a dog was really a proper relationship. Lisa the pet disagreed, and to some extent she was right. You could argue about whether Lisa's relationship with her mistress was normal, healthy, or even sane, but there was no denying that it was there. Miss meant everything to Lisa, and it had become clear to Lisa that in a sense, her mistress felt much the same way.
It was true that Miss Davenport treated Lisa like a dog. But she wasn't just
any
dog. Lisa was Mistress's
