Pet Girl Detective Ch. 01

Story Info
Angela is trapped.
3.8k words
4.3
144.6k
91

Part 1 of the 2 part series

Updated 08/30/2017
Created 10/13/2011
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here

Chapter 01

Angela is trapped

Angela felt like an idiot dressed like this. Behaving like a dumb blonde had some advantages though, and right now it seemed the only way out of this mess. She was investigating the club and that meant scrutinizing the owner, which was why she was here.

It had been a stroke of luck meeting the owner's son and pretending to be a college girl, by dressing in a local uniform, worked well. She didn't have to do anything she just let him talk about himself and laughed at his jokes. He was a typical bigheaded, smart ass, adolescent. Letting him invite her home seemed to be exactly what she wanted, until getting there.

It wasn't what she expected at all. His father and the other men had guns and were dangerous looking people. This meeting wasn't about the nightclub business; there was something more serious going on here. What would he think if he found out she was a twenty-six year old woman, pretending to be his son's school friend? Suspicion would be an understatement.

She would have to keep his son on her side, playing along with the game. He was only eighteen but he too knew there was no going back and fortunately he seemed eager to fool his father too.

She made her choice and was going to have to live with it. She told herself not to be so melodramatic, this was only for a couple of hours then she could leave, and not come back.

"Hello, Sir," she said, with a little girly voice. The father glanced at her with a look of distaste. He would have welcomed something the cat brought in with more affability.

"Well, your home then, keep out of the way this evening, I have business to attend to," he told his son.

For a moment she thought her luck had changed and the father was going to send her home. The casual glance he gave suited her perfectly. The last thing she wanted was for him to look at her closely. Regaining confidence she decided to try her luck. She dropped her school bag, which hid the action of rolling a radio microphone under the sofa.

She scrabbled on the floor picking up the spilt school books, with Alberto helping. He winked at her with a knowing smile on his face. It would have been better if he hadn't seen what she was doing, though it confirmed he was on her side. She smiled back, probably the only adult ever, to be thankful for adolescent rebellion.

"I'll look after this one if you like, boss," a big gruff voice spoke up behind her.

Angela became embarrassingly aware of the short skirt. It had been an asset, distracting anyone from looking at her too closely, only now on hands and knees, the little skirt had ridden up showing off the white panties. She could feel them plastered to her cheeks, pulling tightly between her legs, and could just imagine the rude view that man would have.

She miscalculated on her dress code, for the house was decorated in a very tasteful manner, and even the thugs were dressed in expensive suites. It was embarrassing to be the one bringing down the tone of the place. She had judged him and his home on the sleaziness of the club and was wrong.

The muscle guy picked her up off the floor with one hand, scooping up the bag with the other, dangling both in mid air.

Alberto's father declined to even look at her. "Alberto, go to your room and play with your little friend. Just keep out of the way," he said, in an exasperated voice.

Angela felt small and insignificant, being manhandled then dismissed so lightly. She was an attractive woman used to turning heads in clubs and bars. Often in an investigation she had taken on the role of distracting a man, while a colleague searched his hotel room or home. She knew how to enthral a male, though right now, she just felt small and stupid.

Usually she would be dressed in a sophisticated, designer dress, so being dressed like a school girl was a disadvantage. With these gangsters around she desperately needed to keep that image running. The little tartan skirt with a white blouse was the uniform for a nearby private school. She wore it shorter and her breasts filled out the top, leaving the uniform looking lascivious, so as to attract the son.

It wasn't her fault they had picked the wrong evening to visit the house. How did she know they were having some illicit business meeting?

Alberto took hold of her hand, guiding her out of the room. She felt even more like a naughty adolescent running away from parents. Running down a corridor she let out a childish sound of laughter, with relief from escaping those rough looking men.

The microphone would transmit to a pre-planted receiver and record everything said in the room. It looked as though it wouldn't be of interest to her investigation of the night club, but it might gain her points with the local police, and that would be useful.

In his room he didn't waste any time. "You can slip that uniform off and I'll get you some clothes," he said, with a big soppy grin. "Come on, we can sneak out to a club, they'll be busy all night," he cajoled her.

He stood there wanting her to strip off in front of him. She thought of stripping down to her underwear to give him a fright. He was an inexperienced adolescent so she felt confident handling the bigheaded lout. She looked at him wondering if she could teach him a lesson by bringing him down from that arrogant poise he carried around so seriously.

He was a stern young man, tough like his father, and took his guidance on how to treat women from him too. She couldn't afford to upset him or he might inform his father that she was up to something. She put her hands on her hips determined to teach him how to look after a woman rather than put him down.

"You can't treat me like some stray pet you've brought home," she demanded.

He stood up towering over her. She looked worried and he smiled at her. "You're hungry. You didn't have lunch, I guess," he said, with a grin.

When he left the room she looked around. Peering out the door she found he had a suite of rooms, a whole wing of the house was his. The house was bigger than she thought and such wealth didn't come from just owning a night club. Yet again she wondered what in hell she had gotten into. She stood pensively waiting for him, too nervous to sit.

He came back in with something behind his back. "Close your eyes," he told her, with a light teasing voice.

Stupidly she did, thinking he had brought in food. Various chopping and stirring noises had been followed by the ping of a microwave. The smell of food had softened her up. She became aware of the ravenous hunger sweeping over her, knocking out good judgement. Her assumption was partly right, food was in the offing.

The feel of something being wrapped around her neck snapped her eyes open wide. She tried to jerk away but it was too late he had a dog collar fastened around her neck. Clipped to it was a leash and he stepped back to reveal it.

"That was a good idea, a pet. I wasn't too sure what to do with you, but you can be my pet for awhile," he grinned. He was looking at her like she was a new victim and the game he wanted to play with her was obvious.

"This isn't funny Alberto. Take it off," she demanded, while pulling and scratching at it. "Get this damn thing off me," she continued. She wanted to shout at him but couldn't take the risk his father might hear.

"It won't come off, once the mechanism clicks in place, it has to be unlocked. It's one of the training collars the men use on a new guard dog," he explained.

Angela stopped fighting the damn thing to give the young guy a withering look. He stood before her looking so clever and smug she wanted to slap his face. Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm herself, not wanting him to see she had been rattled. Besides, she didn't want the father sending his men up here to sort out any trouble.

"Please, Alberto, you don't have to do this. It's undignified. You have me at a disadvantage, you don't need to shame me as well," she said, with as much decorum as could be gathered, under the circumstances. She felt stupid for letting a young man take advantage and was trying to hold onto her temper.

"Undignified?" he laughed. "I'm surprised you can use the word without choking. Look at you, the way you're dressed. My father thought I brought home a little slut. He wouldn't acknowledge you, and if his associates hadn't been here, he would have thrown you out. I shall be in trouble tomorrow," he said, with a heavy voice, while shaking his head.

Angela reddened from her cheeks down to her breasts in shame. Without realising it she lowered her head in response to this condemnation of her appearance. She didn't think a club owner would be so precious over the way she was dressed, though it was understandable, he was being protective of his only son.

"I'm sorry if I got you into trouble. We could go to a club if you like," she suggested, liking the idea of getting out of the house.

"First things first, let's get started so we can eat." He told her. "On your hands and knees like a good pet," he told her.

She put her hands on her hips with a frown creasing her face. She thought it best to put a stop to all this nonsense right now. She was a private investigator with experience of tricky situations, so, this young eighteen year old wasn't going to push her around.

"A joke is a joke, but as you can see I'm not laughing, young man. Thanks for the offer of a meal but unless you take this collar off I'm leaving. I'm not in the mood for silly games," she stated.

"If I don't, are you're going to stamp your feet, like a dumb blonde school girl?" he asked.

It had been silly to think he would be fooled. Her skin was unblemished, and she did have to show Id occasionally, but there were other things besides youthful looks. She had suspected he was just going along with her, especially when his father disapproved of her. She could easily fool those men down stairs, for they weren't looking at her face, but he was.

"I just don't want to play games! Now stand aside, I'm going home," she demanded

"I'll escort you to the door, and we can pick up that thing you lost under the sofa," Alberto teased.

"It's OK! I'll just go," she answered, with a less demanding voice.

"I'm sure my father would like to see you before you leave, he didn't really meet you properly, didn't get a good look at you," Alberto smiled at her.

"I guess I could eat something," she ventured.

"I want to be a good boy and do as my father said and take the little friend up to my room to play with," he teased.

Angela was getting annoyed again. She didn't want to be this young guys little friend. She was dressed like it, had behaved like it, she even sounded like a little dumb blonde, but she wasn't his to play with. Especially when he looked at her like that, like she was a mouse and he was ready to chase her.

"What do you want to do then," she asked, sounding exasperated.

"I just want you to play a little game with me, nothing difficult," he cajoled her.

"Nothing with complicated rules then," she sighed. "Something a little dumb blonde can understand?" she added. Perhaps she could tease him into playing one of her games. A game where she took control of the situation, because he was too busy looking at her breasts to think properly.

"Not complicated at all. You just have to do as your told pet," he said, pleasantly.

"Now then, be a good pet and get on your hands and knees, ready for your meal," Alberto requested. He carefully scrutinised her, knowing this was a critical point, wanting so much for her to play along.

He had asked so nicely and it sounded so innocent, it left her feeling churlish refusing the polite request.

"No!" she said, forcefully, with hands on hips trying to feel and look defiant and that this was a final answer. Her breasts were thrust out which were a powerful weapon in her arsenal.

Angela felt a shock at her neck, her throat tightening in a reaction to it. Hardly able to breath she fell to her knees.

"Onto all fours pet, come on do as you are told," he said, talking to her as though she were a cute little puppy. With the leash pulling on her neck she leant forward onto both hands. "This way," he said.

Still recovering from the sudden shock she crawled on all fours into the kitchen, where he pulled her. The thick plush carpet was easy on her hands and knees but when he stopped she sat up on her haunches. She opened her mouth to complain but he made a gesture that cut her off. He had his thumb on a little black box, which looked menacing the way he pointed it at her.

"No talking unless I say so, otherwise, its a little shock," he said. He was watching her carefully. It showed on her face, ideas rippled across it as though she were debating what to do next.

That was no little shock. It hurt and choked her. Maybe the dogs had thick fur to insulate them or they were tougher. Today's events, together with near exhaustion had the inevitable result, she capitulated.

He watched her head hang low in despondency. "You will feel better after food," he encouraged her.

She saw the dog bowls containing water and what she hoped was stew, not a can of dog food. With a groan of agony she bent to the one with water to lap at it for she was so very thirsty. She had to dip her mouth into the other bowl to lick the stew up. In consternation she found it impossible to stop once she started. She was so hungry she carried on lapping and slurping at the metal dog's bowl.

Angela whimpered with the indignity of it, on finding she had licked the bowl clean. What shred of self-respect she had been clinging to, simply dissolve away. With a sigh she lapped at the water bowl until that too was clean.

He patted her ass and she realised the skirt had fallen up her back revealing everything. He pulled at the skirt and she grabbed at it tugging it back into place. "Hey! Don't! At least leave me some dignity you bastard!" she shouted, and immediately regretted it.

The father might have heard and sent someone to investigate. He obviously wasn't used to being talked to like that and what was worse he was a spoilt brat, used to getting his own way.

Inevitably she felt the charge sting her neck, just as bad as last time. She choked and wanted to plea for his mercy but could only croak out a sound. She lay flat on the kitchen floor unable to fight him.

She felt him pull the skirt off then drag the blouse up over her head. He left her panties for a moment around her ankles, while taking a good look at her. The bra was fiddled with but eventually he had that off too.

He lifted her onto all fours where she managed to stay. He drew her into the bedroom on the end of the leash. Exhausted and trembling she waited there not wanting to think about what was next. He started to grease up her ass and pussy. A sob was followed by tears dropping onto the carpet beneath her head that was hanging low in shame. Expecting him to mount her she tried to relax. It was inevitable she told herself, it would happen, so just let it.

She felt something hard at her asshole and whimpered. She had never let a man do that to her. It just didn't seem right and she could do without the pain. Her voice croaked without being able to even say, 'No'.

Looking round she could see he wasn't in position so he must be preparing to bugger her with some kind of dildo. The fear of it overrode the fear of another electric shock. No longer calm, the panic took over. She protested but the words couldn't be uttered through a sore throat.

She kicked out missing each time until he grabbed an ankle and she lost control of it. She looked back to see an ankle had been tied to a bed leg. He held onto the other one looking for something else to keep her under control. He grabbed a school tie and wound it around the ankle and tied it to a cupboard leg.

Right then she was willing to scream out for the men downstairs but her throat wouldn't allow much more than a croaking whimper. Besides, she was naked with her legs spread unable to shout for help, so where would that get her? This young guy was inexperienced, so she was safer with him, or at least it was better than rousing a gang of big rough men.

He was determined to do it, so Angela decided it would be better to try and relax the muscles. She felt the dildo being eased against her asshole, all the while she was trying to relax, wanting to make it easier. It was infuriating having to help him perform such a disgusting act upon her poor virgin asshole.

She managed to loosen up her sphincter but it tightened up again on feeling the dildo enter. He let her breath deeply, seeming to know she was suffering from the indignity of it, more than the pain.

She felt it slowly pushing further into her body. A warm rubber ring came in contact with her asshole and she realised with great relief that was it. It wasn't as bad as she thought. The damn thing was only in a little way, but the indignity of it was just as great.

Alberto stood back to admire her bottom.

"Up you get, come on," he encouraged. She was obviously in distress, so he put an arm around her waist, pulling her up onto all fours. He guided her, to shuffle around, accompanied with little groans, until she was side on to a full length mirror. He held onto her chin to turn her head, making her look into the mirror.

When feeling tired she would complain she was buggered - just a local expression. Though now it was the other way round, she was tired from being buggered. It seemed to have drained all the energy from her. She couldn't be bothered but his insistent enthusiasm made her open her eyes.

She couldn't make out what it was at first. The dildo had hair sticking out of it. Pointing up like a pony tail, it sprouted as though growing out of her ass. It was! Fuck! He put her through all that to give her a stupid tail!

"Come on, wag your new tail," he encouraged. He slapped her ass which shook it from side to side. The slap hurt but she was more afraid of the shock collar, so swayed her hips. It hurt at first but she got the rhythm right and managed to wag her new tail to his satisfaction.

A sob escaped her throat as she watched it wagging like a cruel reminder of surrender. It should have been white not black, she quipped silently. She was a beautiful naked woman with a young man showing complete contempt for her.

He should be at her feet not the other way round. It made it all the worse that he now knew he could do anything he wanted with her, however degrading. It wasn't just the shock collar either. As she wagged that damnable tail her self-worth was being waved away. Angela hung her head low, knowing she was stuck here with this callous youth, completely at his mercy.

She had flown down to Mexico investigating a club, on the trail of a young woman who had disappeared. She didn't expect to find her for she suspected the wealthy man's daughter just wanted to get away from things for awhile. The fee and a vacation, was enough to entice her though.

She had walked around the town talking to people, pretending to be on vacation, then met this young guy, and thought to dupe him. This morning she had been a sensible adult, an attractive woman, a desirable woman. She had been pleased with her self for coming up with a plan to get into the club owners house.

This evening the innocent young guy had duped her.

He reduced her to a ridiculous pet on a leash. She still couldn't comprehend how effectively he had trapped her. She was his pathetic sex pet now, his little plaything. He had whispered this in her ear and she believed it. He told her she would learn to be an obedient pet, to simply obey everything he asked of her. She tried not to believe it, though something in his manner told her it was possible, even probable.

12