Sue got back in her car and took a long drag on her vape pen and started down the drive. She was sure glad to be out of there! Her face still felt flushed from the constant sexist remarks and the flirting throwing her off-balance. As it turned out, Mr. Richter did have a substantial staff. Sue spent the afternoon going throughout the house questioning everyone she saw. Everyone’s answers were polite. They had that nervous quality to them that every employee seems to have when questioned about their boss, but nothing that struck Sue as unusual. What was unusual was that one of the maids hadn’t shown up for work that morning and hadn’t bothered to call. What’s more, she wasn’t answering calls either. It may have been nothing, but Sue decided to go check on this possible lead.
The maid’s name was Megan Hills and she lived in a modest, but clean, well-maintained apartment building just off the freeway. The traffic roared in Sue’s ears as she stepped out onto the cracked pavement. It was a far cry from the fancy, luxurious residence of Megan’s employer! Sue rode the elevator upstairs feeling like perhaps she was getting somewhere.
When she reached Megan’s door she rang the bell.
A cheerful “Just a minute!” came from the other side of the door.
Sue was just pulling out her badge when the door opened. She fumbled with it awkwardly and held it up to the tall, middle-aged blonde woman who answered.
“Hello, I’m Sue Sharp from the HPPS—uh, the Human Pet Protection Services,” She realized that it was upside down and quickly flipped it over. “I—uh—I’m looking for a Ms. Megan Hills. Are you her?”
“Why no,” the lady smiled. “I’m Donna Hills—Megan’s mother.”
“Is Megan here, I just want to ask her a few questions.”
“I’m afraid she’s not, is there anything I can do for you?”
Sue paused. This woman seemed like she would be helpful, but she still wanted to be discreet. “I’m here to talk to Megan about an incident that happened last night at her employer’s home.”
“Oh, dear,” the lady’s face dropped. She was so emotive; it was almost like watching a silent movie actor. “Megan doesn’t share much with me these days…where is she working now?”
Sue paused and then asked, “Is it possible if I could come inside and we could talk? I promise I won’t take up much of your time.”
To Sue’s relief, Donna graciously welcomed her inside and ushered her into a chair, offering her tea in the process. Sue explained the situation to Donna, without mentioning Richter’s name or that her daughter might be a suspect.
The middle aged woman shook her head, “My, my, that’s quite a story. I wanted to say, that I really admire what you all do—the ComPet® program I mean. You’re doing the community such a great service by scooping up all those lazy girls who just take, take, take. It’s wonderful to see them put to good use. If it were up to me, the program would have been started ages ago!”
Sue stiffened. The propaganda machine at work again…All those ads in every form of media that gave the impression that only those girls that “deserved it” were being put into service. She wanted to educate this woman, to tell her that it was all a lie, but that wouldn’t help in her investigation. Sue simply nodded politely before quickly changing the subject.
“When will your daughter be home, Mrs. Hills?”
The older woman smiled pleasantly and replied, “Please, call me Donna. And I don’t really know. She stays with friends a lot and just sort of comes and goes as she pleases.” She remarked, looking more than a little sad and perhaps even a bit angry as she motioned to a picture on the wall.
Megan was a pretty girl. As Sue recollected, she’d fit right in with the rest of Mr. Richter’s almost entirely female staff. Standing next to her mother in the photo, she appeared quite tall. Blonde haired and blue eyed just like her mother, she was quite tan and quite shapely to boot.
“Would it be possible if I could check her room, Donna?” Sue asked.
“Is my daughter part of this pet-napping scheme?” She asked, suddenly sounding and looking very concerned. “Megan was always a bit of a problem child…”
“No,” Sue answered quickly, perhaps too quickly. “But we’re trying to find anything that might help, no matter how small.”
Donna stood up, “Well, Megan wouldn’t like it…she doesn’t even want me in her room to put away her laundry, but I want to help…”
“And it would be a big help!” Sue quickly added.
“Well, alright. If it will help find that poor puppy girl and get her home, then go right ahead.”
Megan’s room was a disaster of twisted mounds of dirty laundry, an inch of dust, old food containers and drink bottles. It reminded Sue of her own room. For some reason in that moment Sue thought about the pink puppy room. An animal’s room, an animal’s kennel, was cleaner and had nicer furniture than either of their rooms—the irony. The room was so disgusting that she didn’t want to touch anything, but Sue began gingerly searching the room nonetheless.
“God,” she thought as she rummaged. “I hope that Richter didn’t put her in charge of any cleaning…”
Most of the cautious search revealed nothing but more dirty laundry and more junk. That was until Sue pulled out one of the dresser drawers. Among all kinds of random articles she spied a silicon mold. The heart-shaped handle matched the original key perfectly. Quietly triumphant, Sue carefully bagged the mold and placed it in her purse.
After saying thank you to Donna and assuring the fretful woman that she had found nothing, Sue returned to her car feeling light as a feather. Clearly Megan Hills—former maid to Mr. Richter—was not only a negligent daughter, she was clearly somehow involved in a pet napping—if not the single cause of the crime.
Sue leaned back in her seat and prepared for a long wait. If Donna could be believed, Megan would be back again. Hopefully it would be sooner rather than later.
***
Sue’s phone rang. She’d been staking out the Hills residence for two days, and the noise jolted her out of her almost zombie-like state. It was her boss again.
“Hello?” She asked sleepily.
“Sue! I want you to drop whatever you’re doing and get back to Mr. Richter’s home pronto!”
Sue yawned, “But I have a lead and…”
“Never mind that, just do it!” He hung up the phone.
Sue took a sip of cold coffee and started the car. Did they want her to find the pet or not? She wondered angrily as she started back to Mr. Richter’s home.
Her irritation only grew on the way there. By the time she walked into Mr. Richter’s study, she was ready to explode. He was waiting for her and stood up from his chair when she entered just like a gentleman. She was so angry that she almost didn’t notice that all the pictures of Boji were off the wall.
“Ah, Miss Sharp!” He nodded. “You look exhausted. Poor little stray, you really need someone to take care of you, don’t you?”
She didn’t like being called a “stray”, but tired and overworked as she was, a small part of her thought that it might be nice to be taken care of for a change. Sue said nothing and waited to know what was so important that she had to come all the way back and visit him in person, blowing her coverage on Mrs. Hills’ complex.
As if reading her mind he began, “I’ve waited a month for you to return by sweet Boji and you’ve found nothing…”
“A month?” She wondered, suddenly more awake. What was he talking about? It hadn’t even been a full two days let alone thirty!
Mr. Richter picked up a small stack of papers and handed them to her as he continued, “Since you’ve been unable to do the job as an investigator, your boss offered to for you to serve as a replacement for when and if Boji is found and returned to me.” He looked her up and down again. “You’re not as pretty or shapely as her, but I think it’s a decent enough consolation!”
Sue’s dark brown eyes scanned over the paperwork. It was an authorization of a transfer, her transfer from Investigation to Service Animal! There were no signatures, only official HPPS stamps where there normally would be signatures. She didn’t even warrant a real signature…
“What?” She squeaked. “You—you can’t do this! I have immunity! I have—”
As if from nowhere, Sue felt a pair of strong hands on each of her arms and she dropped the transfer paperwork to the floor. There was a large man in gray coveralls and caps on either side of her, each sporting the ComPet® Processing Center patch: a red paw with the initials CPC. How did she not notice them when she walked into the study?
“No!” She yelled as she thrashed about as a third man in the same coveralls and cap approached her with a pair of shears. A large sweaty hand clasped over her mouth, silencing her, as the third man forced her head forward and started cutting down the back of her blouse and blazer. Sue wanted to keep struggling, but fear of being cut made her be still. As they pulled the tattered remains of her top away, the third man turned his attention toward her skirt. He yanked the zipper down and then jerked the skirt down to her ankles in one rough motion. His gorilla-like hands encircled her dainty ankles making her unable to kick as her shoes were removed.
Dressed only in her white pushup-bra and panties and her run-out pantyhose, Sue felt so exposed and vulnerable to the chill of the room and the eyes of the men, yet could do nothing about it. Powerful hands gripped the waist of her pantyhose and the band of her underwear and tore them both down her protesting legs.
“Let go!” She yelled again as she tried to kick again. The cool metal of the scissors against her shoulders silenced and steadied her again. She heard the snips as he clipped her bra straps, tore the flimsy garment away, and tossed it on the pile of ruined clothing.
“Oh, lovely,” Mr. Richter gushed. “You’re going to make such a pretty pup!” He reached out and cupped her right breast making Sue inhaled sharply as he gently rolled her little pink nipple between his thick thumb and fore finger, “So perky and responsive too!”
Sue writhed and stifled a moan. She was glad when he took his hand away a moment later, but also deeply frustrated in a way that she could not express.
“You may continue, gentlemen.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Sue saw a crate labeled “Mark I, B-Type Pet Gear” and she managed a choked, “No!” before she forced to the floor and held face down on the carpet.
While one man pinned her with a knee in her back and a hand gripping her hair, the other two set to work putting the gear on her. A fuzzy black paw mitten with light pink pads went over each trembling hand, forcing them into a ball and making them useless. Thigh-high leggings of the same color and material and ending in the same paws went over her legs and forced her feet to stretch out so that she wouldn’t be able to stand. Unable to fight them, Sue began to sob as she became more and more helpless and less and less human with each addition.
Rough fingers pulled at her left ear making her wince. Then she heard a loud click and simultaneously felt an intense stinging pain where she knew they had tagged her. Without giving her a moment to recover they flipped her over on her back and she felt the laser brand against her belly. She howled as it burned the paw-shaped symbol, barcode, and serial number into her delicate flesh. Still reeling from the tag and the first brand, they flipped her back onto her hands and knees and branded her in the same cruel way on the left side of her upturned butt.
Sue cried pathetically, but she was still aware enough to tense as she felt cold goo touch her anus and be rubbed in rudely by coarse fingers. “No, no, no,” she whimpered as her whole body shook in anticipation for the horrible thing she knew would come next. She’s always wondered how puppy girls could stand having plugs put up them, but she never actually thought she’d find out what it felt like herself.
“Relax…” She felt Mr. Richter petting her hair as he spoke to her soothingly. “Relax and think warm thoughts, girl!” he chuckled.
Suddenly she felt the horrible, cold plug against her tight, well-greased hole.
“Noooo!” She wailed and clenched trying to keep the invader out.
Despite her resistance the plug pushed in and stretched her wider than she thought possible.
“Oh, God! Oh, God! Fuck!” Sue cried as it pushed deeper and deeper inside of her. Mr. Richter kept cooing to her and petting her the whole time. His voice calmed her, whether she wanted to admit it or not. It was like an island in the middle of a dark, stormy sea. She focused on it as best as she could as the plug slid into place.
Finally, the pushing stopped, but the dull ache and painful stretching remained. In a daze she heard him say, “There now, what a lovely tail!” Shakily, and covered in a sheen of sweat, Sue looked over her shoulder at the ridiculous thing sticking out of her behind. Like the paws it was black to match her hair and fuzzy like the fur of a dog.
Sue strained and strained as she tried to squeeze out the trespasser. “Ah, ah, ah, puppy!” Mr. Richter playfully scolded her, “You won’t be able to get it out yourself. Don’t worry, honey, when you have to make your plops just beg me and I’ll take it out for you.”
Sue hung her head in defeat, “Please no…” she moaned as she felt them pasting the heart-shaped pads over her nipples and putting something against her swelling clitoris, , pressing firmly and roughly to make it stick.
She sobbed louder as she felt the leather of the collar encircle her neck. “Please, I don’t wanna be a puppy girl! I don’t wanna be a puppy girl!” She cried hysterically as she shook her head.
“Yes, you do.” Mr. Richter spoke to her like she was a frightened animal, gentle, but firm. He was so persuasive, maybe she did want to be a puppy girl…but, no, that was crazy! What kind of disgusting girl would want to live like that? As if he could read her mind again, Mr. Richter answered, “Yes, you do, puppy.”
The collar’s leather was cool and soft against her throat, but it was also firm and unyielding, just like Mr. Richter’s voice. She shivered as a little moan escaped her slightly parted lips.
Mr. Richter had a pair of clip-on, pointy dog ears in his hands, “Now for the finishing touch.” He clipped them onto the top of her head. The moment they made contact through her scalp she felt a buzz from them, her collar, the pads over her nipples and from whatever they’d put over her clitoris.
She heard a robotic voice in her head say, “Pet Sitter engaged.”
“Oh, my, she’s already dripping!” Mr. Richter remarked from behind her.
Sue looked down on the floor between her legs. To her shame and horror her juices were making a puddle on the floor beneath her.