An Obedient Puppy

[Ingenue]

Petgirl transformation. Kinky procedures, no rape (yet).



An Obedient Puppy

Last ever, last ever, last ever, all day. Cerie couldn't stop herself thinking it. Last ever class. Last ever conversation with her friends. Last ever lunch on campus. And, when she thought about that, it was also the last ever time she'd get to choose what she ate. Last ever time checking her hair, adjusting her clothes. Last ever time she'd catch a cab.

The East Town Clinic loomed over her, a large building that seemed ready to pounce and swallow her. Cerie made herself walk forward. Last ever time she'd use a human door. Her eyes lingered on the pet door beside it, a low square flap. She fought down the tears again and pushed open the people-door. With halting words, she gave her details to the man at the reception desk.

Unlike the sizeable majority of girls turning eighteen, Cerie was obeying the law.

The reception clerk fixed a paper collar around her neck - human visitors got a wristband, obviously - and she was ushered to a door labeled INTAKE in large, clinical letters. It took a few seconds to grip the handle with her shaking fingers, and when she saw the ordinary, kind-looking doctor inside the office she nearly panicked and bolted.

---

Girls like Cerie, when they turned eighteen, didn't generally receive presents. There wasn't much point: they wouldn't appreciate them for long, and they might not be permitted to take any possessions with them anyway. Cerie had eaten her favorite breakfast, French toast with blueberries. She hugged and kissed her dad goodbye. He told her how proud he was, how much he'd miss her and that he hoped she would wind up with someone kind. She held him close, told him she loved him, told him to take care of Lolo, stumbled through the usual parting words. She couldn't promise to keep in touch. There wasn't much else to say.

Then Cerie had said goodbye to Lolo too. Lolo, who had no idea what day it was, why her girl was unhappy or what to do about it, wagged her tail and offered a paw. Looking down at her dad's dog, Cerie couldn't keep from crying. She knelt down, hugged her tight and sobbed "Bye-bye Lolo, I love you," and then, because there was nobody close enough to hear, she whispered in the dog's latex ear, "Goodbye, Mom." There was no recognition of the word from Lolo. There never could be.

---

Dr Tamwright had a gentle manner and a soft voice. He welcomed Cerie by name and guided her to a chair before his desk console. A real chair; it had a large, very soft cushion, but it was still a chair, which was comforting to the overwhelmed teen. When she was seated, he spoke. "I'll be overseeing your conversion, Cerie. First of all, I want to praise you for checking yourself in. I know it must have been a scary thing to do, but it will make things much, much easier on you than if Stray Services had tracked you down, darted and netted you in public and dragged you away where everyone could see what a bad girl you'd been."

Cerie shivered at the mental image.

"It's always sad when we have to do that. But you've avoided that fate for yourself by being a good girl." A warm feeling welled up in Cerie at those words. Her lifelong soft conditioning had ensured she always enjoyed being called a good girl, although she knew that was nothing compared to what she'd experience if she heard those words afterward. Was this really happening?

Dr Tamwright sat at his desk and tapped on several screens. "Now, Cerie, because you're a good girl," - she even succeeded in smiling at that - "you get to answer some questions and be matched to a master who will be compatible. Strays are denied this process and bought by anyone who chooses them. Can you imagine that? A big mean master picking you out on looks and price alone? Yes, I can see that scares you, and it should. Now needless to say, you will answer the questions honestly, otherwise your master could be a bad match just like that." Cerie swallowed, nodded and resolved to be as truthful as she could. She knew she was being emotionally manipulated, but that didn't change the facts.

The questions took a long time. There was no clock she could see, but Cerie's throat was sore from speaking by the end. Tamwright had raised an eyebrow at her perfect GPA - but Cerie had always taken pride in outclassing the upper caste and the boys, even earning a place on the chess team; beating a big, hulking teen boy despite the ubiquitous wisecracks like "look, the chess pet thinks she's people" was one of her greatest joys, the nearest she ever came to rebellion, her way of proving that whatever her future, for now she was smarter than them. The questions continued. Cerie thought she did okay on the IQ test, even if she couldn't figure out what relevance that could have. Lolo might have been a genius once, possibly was if Cerie was any evidence, but now she couldn't read and knew barely thirty words - and by every indication, she was very happy that way. Whatever; maybe they just wanted Cerie's scores on file for some reason.

Mostly, though, the questions were sexual and deeply personal. Cerie gave her responses about things she had never even imagined and some that sounded quite honestly impossible. By the last questions she was bright red, had sunk right back into the seat, was stuttering frequently and had to ask for a definition for almost everything. Tamwright was entering data as she spoke and often looked at her with a fond smile as if she'd done something cute. "I love virgins," he said finally, though she didn't see how that was relevant; he leaned back and stretched his arms up, signalling that the interview was done.

---

The second room was larger, far less office-like. Dr Tamwright told her to remove her clothes - last ever time she'd take off her clothes - and stand in a full-body scanner/camera. Whatever it did was inaudible and invisible and for a moment she hoped there was no unsafe radiation, before telling herself how idiotic that thought had been. She was glad she'd already shaved her whole body, though. Last ever time she'd have to shave. Pets didn't grow body hair; it would interfere with the rubbery latex-like stuff that covered their skin. Tamwright called her out of the scanner and led her to some kind of an intimitading frame that was surrounded by dormant machinery. He lifted Cerie and placed her knees on two padded platforms. He pushed her easily forward onto all fours. A firm cushion supported Cerie's midriff, but left her perky little breasts hanging loose, and her hands rested on metal supports, taking part of her weight. Tamwright walked around her, closing cuffs and bands around her limbs, waist and shoulders so that she was completely locked in place, on hands and knees, in the midst of his surgical machines. Only her head could move, because he'd fixed nothing around her neck. There was just the paper collar, just in case she somehow forgot why she was here, she guessed.

Tamwright sat at a console similar to the one he'd used before and pressed a few keys. "I'm not starting the process yet, just activating your implants," he told her. Cerie twitched in fear at that, breathing in sharply. "No, no," the doctor hurried to reassure her, "not your punishment chip, don't be silly. We don't leave them active in completed pets. It was remotely deactivated as soon as you checked yourself in. You're one of our good girls, remember?" Pure joy flooded through Cerie at those words. She was a good girl! That was the best thing ever to be!

Oh. Those implants.

"Firstly, I should inform you that our systems identified your personality profile as a Domestic pet. That shouldn't come as a surprise," Tamwright told her, and Cerie shook her head in agreement. She'd never been tall or athletic enough for Field and it took a particular type of personality to voluntarily choose Barnyard. Not that strays had the choice. Dr Tamwright continued, "You are an excellent match for a Love Puppy. You can appeal this if you have a strong preference for Sex Kitten, but I warn you, with your scores you will have to make a strong case." Cerie shook her head firmly. Sex Kittens made her uneasy with the way they yowled and rubbed up on their masters, and their easy, overexaggerated sexuality. She didn't like the thought of wailing like an animal in heat, even if she would no longer be herself to realize she was doing it. A puppy, like her mother, that's what she'd always expected she'd be.

Tamwright glanced at her again with a smile, then tapped a screen, calling up some data. "Well, well. Good news for you, little pet. We've found you an owner at over 95% match." Good news? Was it? That was an unusually high match, she knew. If no match was found for a new pet in the allotted time and nobody bought her on discount, she would usually go to the cops or another service as a utility pet. That had always sounded like an interesting life to Cerie, finding drugs and locating missing people; even though police pups were routinely... used by all the officers, she wouldn't know about it, and at least she'd be helping society. But no, if she was bought by this owner, whoever it was, there was nothing she could do about it.

Tamwright nodded his head at a few instructions on the screen, then stood and came over to the immobilized teen. "I'll get you started then I'll fill you in on the details while you process." He petted her head. "This," he said, picking up a large pump-like piece of equipment, "goes in your mouth here. Open." Fighting tears and every instinct that told her to clamp her teeth together, Cerie forced her mouth open a little way. "Good girl," the doctor told her, and inserted the long, thick solid rubber thing past her suddenly much less tense jaw. It was so big it barely fit in her mouth and he fed it in until it was almost in her throat, then applied straps and braces until her head was trapped. Cerie drew short, frightened breaths through her nose. Any farther into her mouth it would cut off her air. "This will perform the vocal correction surgery," Dr Tamwright told her, still calm and reassuring. Then he began to fit curved pieces of machinery around her arms, shoulders, abdomen, breasts and - "Legs later," he said, to either her or himself, and left those alone.

"Now I'll summarize your master's wishes for you," the doctor said, retaking his seat. "First off, yes, you have a master, not a mistress." That came as a relief. Cerie had always known she was attracted to men. She couldn't bear the thought of belonging to an upper-caste lesbian, even if she wouldn't know about it. Tamwright continued. "He is watching your conversion, so behave and be extra brave for him." Oh, no. Cerie wished she didn't know he was there watching on a screen somewhere, knowing her skin was gradually being infused with the latex-like substance that encased all pets, observing her fear and (she admitted to herself) fascination as the changes took hold. Tamwright, oblivious to her embarrassment, kept speaking. "Your master specifically requested a volunteer check-in who scored exceptionally highly on the IQ test and was a virgin. He's been waiting several months rather than accept any of the incomplete matches we found, and we at the clinic were almost despairing of finding him his perfect choice, so we're all glad you came along." Tamwright chuckled at his little joke. She knew full well there had been no real risk of their finding no match. Masters always got what they wanted; there was some guarantee or something. They'd just fly some pet in from elsewhere to suit his needs.

"Now, many of the preferences you expressed in your interview match his. Your master exceeds your preference - which was unnecessarily modest, by the way, but very cute - for a moderate income. Exceeds it by some distance, in fact." Cerie wasn't sure that was entirely a good thing. The richer the owner, the more outlandish modifications he could potentially afford. She didn't want to wind up like some of those freaky pets you saw in the extreme mods galleries.

"In addition, your master wants only one pet in the house, that's excluding any stables or livestock, and does not want children, so we'll be fixing you. Though you may like to know he has permitted us to harvest eggs from you for use in possible future breeding programs. So far you're an exact match. He has chosen harlequin merle for your coat, a very exclusive color combination." Cerie's eyes dipped down involuntarily toward her arms, where she could feel the gentle tickling that belied the extreme changes occurring to her skin. So, her perfect plasticized skin would be spotted and patched, not a plain color but a pretty mottled pattern. That sounded costly. Dalmatian coats were only sometimes seen in her home city and she'd only ever seen merles in magazines, they were so rare. Cerie was glad she soon wouldn't know the difference. She would have felt uncomfortable always knowing her master had spent so much on her, putting pressure on herself to live up to it.

She felt the tingling begin in her fingers and knew her hands would soon be stubby, non-prehensile paws, with tough pads for walking on and tiny ornamental claws all that remained of her carefully tended fingernails. Another wave of panic hit Cerie. Why had she checked herself in? Why hadn't she even tried to run? She could escape now! Maybe it wasn't too late! She could get out of these inescapable restraints and... and... what? Hide under the desk? Scratch at the door and ask to be let out? No, it was hopeless. Look at her scores. Domestic, Love Puppy, the most loyal grade possible. She was already a pet, just missing a few details. A tear escaped down her cheek and ran down the side of the rubber shaft in her mouth. As if reminded of its purpose, this began gently pulsing and Cerie felt a strange itch in her throat. Her vocal folds, being mutilated. No more speaking.

Dr Tamwright checked some more data feeds and nodded, obviously satisfied with how her processing was progressing. "Now in some cases your master's choices override your preferences. Your anus will not be left unused, but you already knew that was unlikely." It had been a long shot, she knew. "He has chosen to augment your breasts, you could hardly expect him to tolerate those teeny little things, but fortunately for you his tastes run to the modest, natural look and you will not receive any of our more unusual modifications. You will be a tasteful, bouncing C cup with our usual lifetime no-sag guarantee. You had a slight preference for natural hind legs with added knee protection, but he has decided on full modification, another highly exclusive option, so you will have proper hind paws. What a lucky puppy." He spoke on and on, almost too fast for all these changes to sink in. "Now, you didn't express a preference here, but I will inform you that your master has chosen permatightening for both vagina and rectum. An excellent choice. Clearly your master appreciates the finer things and we are happy to provide only the best for our valued customers. Don't look so afraid. Anal sex will actually be more comfortable for you with this option, because it guarantees the rectal walls will not tear or bleed." Cerie whined around the rubber obstruction filling her mouth. "Atta girl," said Tamwright. Her legs to be cut up and turned into doglike hind legs, her perky little breasts swollen up a whole size, her orifices tightened up to give this stranger maximum sensation when he had sex with her, took her virginity...! It was horrible to imagine. But at least she wouldn't know about it. At least she wouldn't know.

"And this is an interesting choice," said Dr Tamwright, who was clearly enjoying himself. "Your master has chosen to leave your awareness unsuppressed."

Cerie instantly flew into a panic. Screaming (a pitiful whine) into the rubber shaft that blocked her mouth, she tried to thrash around, shake her head... but she could barely move. Snatching quick breaths through her nose, she mewled repeatedly through the gag, begging Tamwright - no, begging her unseen master - to change his mind. She couldn't be left aware for this! Not for a life like a pet had! She couldn't live fully conscious through every moment of sexual slavery, the loss of her rights as a person, the strict control and suppression of free will that every pet had to undergo. She didn't deserve to suffer like that! She'd checked herself in, she was a good girl, this was wrong...!

"Ssh now. Sssssh." Tamwright got up and came over, petting her head and stroking her hair, rubbing the back of her neck. "Silly puppy, your master would hardly specify a borderline genius-level pet if he was just going to have her mind suppressed, would he? He wants you to be aware of everything you two do together. He obviously cares for his property very much if he's willing to allow that." Cerie whined, unwilling to admit the reassurance was having effect, but she was calming down. It was the touches and the tone of his voice more than anything he said. She didn't want to be conscious when her master asserted his ownership rights, forced himself deep inside her changed body for the first time... "There's no appealing this, not unless your match had been borderline. Now it won't be a bad thing, not at all. You'll be as smart as a person, just imagine! And don't worry about intellectual stagnation. The pet laws give your master the absolute duty to provide for all your needs, and as a clever pet, that includes your mental development. You won't be bored." Boredom was not her main concern. Cerie whined once more. Tamwright patted her head. Then he moved backward, where she could no longer see him, and began to fit more pieces of machinery around her legs. With those fitted, and the tingling already started, he fitted more components over her back and down between her legs.

"One more modification you should be aware of, little puppy. Your master has chosen one of our new experimental surgeries to give you a tail. A real tail that you can wag for him, you lucky pet!" Cerie gasped, a squeaking noise escaping her still-gagged mouth. She'd never even heard of that!

---

Sure, she'd been with the other girls her age and visited the pet stores, looking at the tail anal plugs in all their dizzying varieties. Almost all girls went to look. The others had been more interested than Cerie was, pointing out the tail plugs they hoped they'd be fitted with and flirting with the male customers, offering to be their pets in exchange for the motorized rhinestone model.

Cerie had instinctively known that the girls were trying to adjust to their fates, giving themselves a fleeting illusion of control, however ridiculous, so she hadn't looked down on them for it. In fact she wished she could be so cavalier about her future.

But in all the stores she'd been in, she'd never seen any pets with real tails, despite it being a prominent fantasy in the erotic magazines there...

---

No, she was sure. It just didn't exist yet. If it did, everyone would have heard about it. This wasn't just a case of choosing a fashionable and technically difficult color combo for her skin - this experimental pre-release thing had to be impossibly expensive. Just who was her master?

Dr Tamwright patted the metal casing covering her rump as the surgical machines began their unimaginable work. "Now, one final thing to prepare you for, but first..." He walked around to Cerie's head and began loosening attachments until, finally, he removed the big rubber thing from her mouth. Cerie licked her lips in relief and instantly felt a difference. Her tongue was longer, broader at the tip and a little flatter. Tamwright went back to the console and slipped on a headset. "Would you like your new puppy to see you now?" he said, not talking to Cerie, and then he nodded in response to something he heard. He tapped some command to her implants, then touched a screen directly in front of her. A man's face bloomed into view.

Cerie, her eyes amazed and wide, took in the face on screen. He was handsome, in fact surgically flawless, but unlike many surgery cases he hadn't gone so far that his features had become bland or characterless. In terms of age, difficult as it was to tell with someone who could certainly afford stem regeneration, he looked like he could be in his natural twenties. His nose was chiseled, he had a strong, well-proportioned jawline and his cheekbones... well, yes. But it was his eyes she couldn't stop looking at. Dark, shifting, astute eyes, and looking at her with... what she was pretty sure was genuine tenderness.

"My pet," said the man Cerie had instantly - and permanently - known was her master. "You're perfect. I can't wait to come get you and take you home. Speak for me."

Cerie opened her mouth and yipped a demure greeting, off-pawedly noticing that the destruction and conversion of her voice had succeeded and she could no longer form words.

Dr. Tamwright smiled down at her and lifted the final piece of machinery, some kind of headpiece, moving her hair carefully so that it wouldn't get in the way of the skin alterations. She heard a few lines of conversation before the helmet settled around her ears, ready to convert them into pointed puppy ears.

"You're pleased with her then, sir?"

"Perfect. She... she's perfect. When will she be done?"

"Another hour in surgery then half an hour post-op to check we didn't miss anything; then you can pick her up. Have you chosen a name for her yet?"

"Wonder. I'm going to call her Wonder."

And Wonder, who knew instantly that that was her name and couldn't really remember why she'd ever thought of herself as Cerie, smiled as the machines began their work.

[Ingenue]

An Obedient Puppy, Part 2


Wonder sighed and, lulled by the almost imperceptible motion of the car, rested her chin on her master's polished shoe. She no longer jumped all around the limo interior whenever they traveled, getting her paws on everything and trying to see where they were going. Not that she had ever been told not to: it just no longer seemed important that she know everything that was going on. They were going wherever he wanted. They would get there when they got there. Wonder could doze on the floor if she pleased. Nothing depended on her.

Nothing except her owner's happiness. So everything, really.

She shifted a little when she felt the limo glide to a halt. Her tail swished once. Still sleepy, Wonder felt a large hand caressing her hair, rolled over and licked his fingers. Her master chuckled. She liked the way he looked down at her, the tenderness and pride in his eyes. She, after all, was wired to know she was his property. There was no equivalent compulsion on his part, no implants. Just his own affection.

Wonder's master picked up the leash. So she was to come with him, not wait in the car, wherever this was. And it didn't matter where, so long as they were together. She enjoyed his hands brushing her neck as he fastened the leash to her collar. It was a lovely collar - wonderful, even, like her master occasionally joked. Comfortable leather, colored a deep blue to offset her expensively mottled coat perfectly. More importantly to Wonder, it contained the best tracking technology available. She would never be lost and apart from him. Of all the fears that had ceased to exist along with her former life, a very few new ones had appeared. Separation from her master was one. She kept very close to him as they left the car. A puppygirl could never be too careful. Wild catgirls might swoop at any second and try to claim her master. Well, it could happen!

When she belatedly recognized where they were, she stopped short. Feeling the leash tighten, her master looked back. "Recognize it, Wonder? We're going visiting."

The petgirl opened her mouth a little to whine, suddenly overcome with emotion. She hadn't seen this place since the last time she turned back to look at it, on her way to her last day of classes. Her eighteenth birthday and her last day looking like a human. Her father... she'd thought about him, of course, and her mother, but she knew they could no longer be part of her life. She'd been taken away from them, taken away by a state that had only ever valued her as a future sexual commodity, and bought by -

The most important man in the world, yes. But viewed objectively, a stranger from the upper caste who had ordered a girl with her details, then had her body changed to suit his wishes. This wasn't a bad thing for him to do; it was the best thing ever, because Wonder was a petgirl as nature ordained and she had to be perfect for him because he deserved the best. (Thank you once again, implants.) It wasn't even unusual: every girl in the lower caste grew up knowing this was her destiny. Wonder had just happened to be chosen by a man with a liking for intelligent pets, who had forced her to remain self-aware. This was good, she made sure to tell herself; she was his to do with as he pleased. But she hated it sometimes. There was nobody she could talk to, because she couldn't talk, and she had to keep it secret. She didn't know why he made her live like this.

Wonder's master lost patience with her wool-gathering and applied gentle pressure from the leash until she was trotting forward again. Now, though, she stuck even closer to him. When he stepped up to the familiar door and knocked, she hid behind his legs.

"Arf! Arf! Arf!" That was Lolo, responding to visitors as she always did. Homesickness hit Wonder broadside. The place she grew up, but she could never go back, not really. Everything was different.

She peeked out, from behind the safety of pant legs, at the man who opened the door. No, she had been wrong. Everything was the same. It was she who was different.

"Hi," said her father, but not to her, and the two human men shook hands. Dad held Lolo's collar in his other hand, preventing her from bounding out and leaping on them. Pets had no aggression, at least those outside of law enforcement, but their affection was unrestrained and sometimes energetic. Lolo loved everybody. The blonde puppy was waggling her butt like there was no tomorrow, making her tail plug whip from side to side and her large breasts jiggle. She was straining forward a little and her mouth hung open in a puppy smile, long tongue lolling and big blue eyes vacant of any thought beyond the endless present.

Wonder looked at her own mother and felt shame. Shame for what she had become since she had last seen Lolo, and shame because Lolo's modifications were - cheap. She recognized that now. Those breasts were unnaturally large, out of proportion, not something a top surgeon-designer would have sculpted, while her hind legs were barely altered from human, just fixed so she couldn't stand and padded at the knees. Her coat was plain sandy brown, a color Wonder had once hoped for for herself. And then there was the tail, a crude fluffy fabric thing attached to a heavy anal plug. A normal, well-cared-for suburban puppy, in other words, whom Wonder, to her enormous guilt, now outclassed to the tune of more money than she wanted to imagine.

"-nd can this really be the little petgirl I raised?" she realized her dad was saying. She'd barely glanced at him, he was so far above her eye level now. Another twinge of guilt. He deserved better than that. Wonder looked up at her father, seeing his familiar face from a new angle. He looked well. Happy, even. Not missing her too much? That was good, right? Wonder's tail waved, a little tentatively. Her dad said "Hey there, little - what's she called?" He didn't even begin to use her old name, the one he'd called her for eighteen years (the name she couldn't bring to mind right now, because it wasn't like it was important). Didn't seem the least bit perturbed seeing her on all fours, transformed. He'd just - adjusted to her conversion.

"This is Wonder," said her master, in the proud, smiling tone of voice he always used when talking about her, and that did make her tail wag, and she took a few steps forward and licked her dad's hand. Lolo strained forward to sniff her, and if she recognized the daughter she'd given birth to, it wasn't apparent. Lolo would have been that ecstatic to meet anyone.

"Come on inside. Wonder, huh? That's nice, mighty nice." Dad led them into the living room, just as if they were strangers. Her master was a stranger to them, she guessed, and she was meant to be a dumb puppy who might not even remember the house she grew up in. She reminded herself to act stupid and to not look at books, and when her father said "Well then, Wonder, let's get a look at you," she yipped as if recognizing her name, then scratched herself with one of her surgically perfected hind legs. They weren't exactly like dog legs, being thicker in proportion with her body and able to spread outwards like a human's for... for when her master took a fancy to have her on her back. Her master unclipped the leash. Lolo bounded around her, waggling her rear and play bowing excitedly.

"Wonder, beg," said her master, and that command was the most important thing in the world so Wonder sat up on her haunches and held up her front paws. Her father walked in a semicircle around her, pushing the curious Lolo out of his way several times, then went to sit in his favorite chair. "Good girl," Wonder's master said, and she wriggled in bliss.

"Well, that's the prettiest set of mods I ever did see," her father offered. Lolo went over and put her paws on his knee. He petted her with automatic motions, love so deeply ingrained that they fitted together without thinking. Wonder had always seen her dad and Lolo as the perfect example, a couple as fine as any in books or movies. Gentle ownership and boundless devotion, the way love should be, the man protecting and providing and his companion compulsorily turned into a mindless sex slave animal. Except when she put it like that, she couldn't help thinking some small detail was wrong with the picture. No, what was wrong was that she couldn't help thinking, period. She wished she could stop.

"Thank you," her master said, in that same proud, sappy tone Wonder liked.

"That tail, I've never seen anything like it..." Lolo nosed her and play bowed again, and Wonder realized if she sat pensively like this she'd begin to look abnormal, so she yipped at the older puppy and scampered after to chase her. They spent some few minutes running around playing, though Wonder did make sure to keep returning to check her master still existed, and she was sure Lolo was doing the same.

They chased upstairs after a motorized squeaky ball and, because there was no one human close by to notice, Wonder stood on her hind paws and opened the door to her former bedroom. Lolo gave her a blank look like door handles were, in her mind, indistinguishable from magic, then flopped down with her toy. Wonder went a little way in, walking softly. The bed and furniture were still there. The bed linens were different and a few boxes had been stacked in there. Just a spare bedroom now. Wonder didn't know why she kept torturing herself like this. She didn't want her father to be broken up over losing her, she just... she didn't know. It had only been a pawful of weeks, and he'd just moved on, almost like he never had a daughter.

Her eye fell on some white-painted wood slats stacked in one corner. Was that - well, it looked like makings of a crib. She cast a speculative look back at Lolo, who was chewing her ball without a care. This was none of her business anymore, she told herself, and carefully pawed the door shut again. Time to check her master was still here, anyhow. Those catgirls could strike at any time if she wasn't vigilant.

"-receive the transfer I sent?" her master was saying when she returned. Wonder scampered over and sat at his feet, pressed against his leg. He stroked her hair and ran his hand down her back and she sighed in contentment.

"I saw it," her father said, and he sounded reserved. "But see here, the clinic already paid me my share of her price and that's fine. I don't need handouts." Wonder looked at him in his clean, pressed flannel shirt and jeans, then back up to her master, dressed up in the latest exclusive designer casual wear and thousand-dollar glasses, and thought: oh.

"It's not intended as a handout," said her master. "A gift of gratitude, that's all, for what you've given me." He petted Wonder's flopped-over ears and she realized after a moment that he was referring to her. Her! "She's worth a thousand times that to me and more. I'd consider it a personal favor if you accepted."

Her dad would refuse, she knew it. But her master wanted it, which made it the most important thing in the world. And that new crib upstairs... Wonder got up and padded over to her father, fake-casually sniffed at Lolo's midsection, then put her paws on his knee and gave him a tongue-dangling puppy smile, all innocent, wagging her tail. She saw his thoughts follow her "accidental" prompting. Saw him waver.

"It's very generous," her dad said after a few seconds. "Too generous. But I'll accept if it means that much. I dare say it'll be useful. It so happens we got a baby on the way. Or a puppy, we don't know yet."

"Well, congratulations!" said Wonder's master, getting up and crossing the room with a grin to pump her father's hand. "That's great news." He glanced briefly down at Wonder. "Great news indeed."

It wasn't much longer before they said their goodbyes. Wonder's master led her back to the limo. She followed willingly. She loved her dad and Lolo, but there was no place for her here anymore. She lay down on the seat beside her owner, head in his lap. He petted her in silence for a while. Abruptly, then, he spoke.

"However you convinced him, that was a good job. Good girl," he said. "And I mean it. A million's nothing compared to you. I don't know why I waited so long..."

Wonder lifted her head and looked up at him, her curiosity piqued. Her master was gazing out of the window. He shook his head, dismissing whatever he might have been about to reveal. "Let's just get home. I want something to eat and I want to take you in every position imaginable, you perfect little sexpet." He rubbed her belly gently, gazing down at her with eyes full of affection, and Wonder guessed that would have to content her for now.

[Sasha Girl]

Hi Ingy. Just repeating here what I already said on the other site - how much I love your stories, even when they disturb me.