Before entering my apartment, I stopped by Judy’s door and knocked and waited, then knocked again and waited more, then decided against further knocking and waiting. I decided to call her from my couch instead, as I should have in the first place. On my coffee table was a small box which I ignored as I dialed her.
She greeted me with an enthusiastic “Hey, bestie, what’s up?”
“Heya, soulmate dearest, I got off work kinda late… but I’m a detective now, so that’s kind of to be expected. I’ve been commanded to go somewhere with my mistress this evening.”
“Your mistress?”
“Diane Somers.”
“I figured you referring to her, but she’s your mistress now?”
“She owns me. What else do I call her, my owner? That word makes me feel like she has complete control over my life.”
“Then don’t use it.”
I sucked a breath in between my teeth. “I… (hmm…) do like it, though?”
“You do?”
“Yeah, she… treats me like a toy, or—a pet, in a way that… really turns me on. Like, sexually, but also… emotionally.”
“Hm. Very kinky. Wherever tonight takes you, I hope your time with her is fulfilling and fun.”
“With her… well, you know how to push some of my buttons, she knows how to push others. I brought her another woman for her to recruit into her harem, and she made the new girl—whose pussy tastes like strawberries, by the way—she watched the new girl pound me from behind with a ridiculously huge strap-on. Bigger than you.”
“(Oh—kay.)” She breathed out. “Wowwy… I’m glad—overjoyed you’re… (hoo-boy…) having fun with others… but remember your priorities. Don’t worry about getting too close to the captain—focus on making the her like you and I’m certain she’ll do you lots of favors to further your investigation.”
“My investigation? Not our investigation?”
“I’ll help if I have succor to offer, but you have all the resources to solve this case and I have none—so this show is yours now.”
“I suppose you’re right… It was nice working with you.”
“It was, indeed. Anyways, continue.”
“Right, so, Georgina kept pounding my cervix with that ginormous mock cock, and, even though it hurt a tiny bit, I really liked it, and being stretched made it even better. So that made for a nice afternoon.”
“So… you like ’em big, hmm?” Her lewd grin was audible as it warped her intonation.
“I guess. But I still like your cock more than I like the dildo. You don’t stretch me as much, but…” ((What do I like so much about it? It’s flesh and blood…)) “…yours twitches, and…”
“Oh? And?”
{… she spills her seed inside me…} “Well. A dildo can’t squirt cum inside me.”
“They can if you’re willing to pay a little more, but bear in mind it’s just cum-colored lube, not the real thing.”
{…and she pulls out and it spills everywhere and makes a big mess.} I smirked, which I thought had an effect on my speech. “And I have to admit that this… breeding thing has a bigger appeal than I first thought.”
“Are you admitting that you’re down with the sickness?”
((It’s a little absurd, of course. Every time we have sex it’ll be a mystery as to whether we’ve conceived… I’ll have to wait, biting my stubby nails down to the quick, waiting for the pregnancy test to give me a plus or a minus… The suspense will be painful. And so juicily dramatic. Oh my God, I get it! It’s all about the suspense of not knowing! Judy gets off on not knowing what’s going to happen next, like riding a rollercoaster except you’re blindfolded and the lap-bar’s been torn out and the operator turned up the speed by 50 percent. Which is… fucking perfect for psychos like me.)) “Maybe the idea of your sperm penetrating my egg and turning it into an embryo that’s going to grow inside me and stretch my stomach until I pop unless we do something to stop it… turns me on. Not knowing whether the morning-after pill is going to work, whether it’s going to implant, if and when I’m going to show…”
“Ah. I’m currently on my way to my last delivery and it is taking every milligram of my self-control not to find a hiding place to (touch myself.)”
I giggled. “I won’t judge you, but I’ll disavow you if you’re caught.”
She laughed. “I’m excited to have found another common interest.”
“Yeah, it’s a good development.” ((Ah, damn it, she needs to know about the mandatory move across town.)) “Um. I have something else to talk to you about, it’s more serious than kink.” ((And it might take a while.)) I checked the time. “Oh, shit, it’s 5:02 and I’m supposed to be ready at 5:15, I only have 13 minutes to get ready before she gets here!”
“Real quick, where are you going?”
“She ordered me not to look it up or ask anyone about it.”
“Now I hafta know.”
“I want to be obedient.”
“Okay, freak,” she said affectionately. “I promise I won’t tell you anything I might happen to know.”
“Hm. Alright. Asmodeus.”
She broke out into laughter. “Oh my God!”
“Is this something I should be worried about?”
“I promised I wouldn’t tell you anything. Be a good girl and don’t try to pry it out of me.”
“You’re mean.”
“I can try being mean, if you’re into it. Go, get ready, have fun. Be a freak with all the other freaks. Ta-ta.”
“Ta-ta.”
I put my police gun and badge in my safe, next to Helga the .32 ACP Walther PPK, then shed my clothes—remembering to skip my sexy panties—and put on my black dress. The breeze was stimulating, at first to the point of distraction, but quickly became comforting… so much that I considered going commando 24/7.
Taking for granted that I needed to be pretty, a little bit of violet eyeshadow complemented my irises and a thin layer of low-coverage foundation subtly evened out the darkness of my freckles. I also penciled in my eyebrows and added some mascara, because when I didn’t pencil my eyebrows or put on mascara, those hairs were just about invisible.
Of course, nearly invisible eyebrows and eyelashes weren’t undesirable to me—while I had been, from puberty, convinced that they gave me a freakish face, something had changed in me over the past 72 or so hours: I had learned that every part of me was attractive, including my ghostly brows and lashes. Looking back on the overwhelming attention I had received (both as an adult and as a child, for better or for worse), I knew that makeup merely helped to conform my already perfect face to society’s commonly shared standards of beauty. I wasn’t doing it to make myself feel prettier, I was only doing it to please others—specifically my mistress.
And also I was having fun playing with the makeup I hadn’t touched since I bought it at Christmastime 2023.
Just as I was finishing making myself more conventionally attractive, my phone rang, and though I didn’t recognize the number, I had a solid hunch about who it was. “Drea, I am waiting out front. Where are you?” asked my mistress in a very irritated voice.
“Just doing my makeup. And…” ((One last stroke of the mascara brush, and…)) “Finished. I’m ready.”
“Get out here.”
“Yes, Mistress.” She hung up.
I slipped into my new black ballet flats and hurried as fast as I could without tripping and breaking my face open. Down the stairs, down the sidewalk, and an inch from the curb was that same dark blue Mercedes she had been driving the night she first picked me up. She cracked the passenger window and told me, “Get in back.”
“Yes, Mistress.” I followed her command, and she set us in motion.
“Drea,” she began with steely calmness once we were rolling, “when I say that I want you waiting for me to pick you up, I expect you to be outside, on the curb, waiting for me, exactly as you were waiting the night we met.”
“Understood, Mistress. I’ll be ready on the curb next time.”
She gave me a very pleased smile through the rearview mirror. “Good. Let us hope Georgie does not make the same mistake.” She did, and our mistress gently reprimanded her with words mostly identical to the ones she used to reprimand me. “Am I understood, Georgie?”
“Yeah,” replied her third piece of property.
“‘Yeah’? Can I have a little more enthusiasm from my newest pet?”
“I’m soooo sorry! I’ll be waiting on the curb next time you pick me up. Is that better?”
I nudged her and whispered, “(She really likes being called ‘Mistress’.)”
“Mistress.”
“I do enjoy your calling me ‘Mistress’, but I ask that you only do so if it pleases you,” she said with concern and approval. But that approval suddenly dried up… “Your attitude, however, needs improvement…” …then just as suddenly returned. “…though at least you are willing to learn.” I realized then that we were fortunate that she was a patient owner; that could have been very awkward, and… ugly, for Georgina.
Diane found public parking that charged an outrageous 50 dollars an hour, but neither of us pointed out the price as she pulled in. She found a convenient spot in no time, among a bunch of cars equally as nice as hers, surrounded by high fences and cameras and guards.
Before we could open our doors, though, she surprised us with gifts.
“Drea, take this.” She handed me a black box about 2 inches wide by 8 inches long, with a black bow. “And Georgie, here is yours.” Georgina received the same thing, but all white. “Well? Open them!”
We opened our boxes, and inside mine was a textured strip of black silk with a shiny steel side-release buckle. In the middle was a silver heart-shaped medallion about the size of a quarter, suspended from a D-ring, with a phone number engraved on the reverse with room for more above that.
“That… looks kinda like a collar,” observed Shosh from the front passenger seat.
“(It’s… just a choker,)” I whispered.
“It has a name tag.”
“(Name tags have names.)”
“It has a phone number, though.”
“(Ah…)”
“It is no mere choker,” Diane informed us with a wink. “And you are correct, your name tags are missing (of all things) names.”
I glanced over at Georgina, who was staring—wide-eyed and wordless—at the narrow length of shiny white fabric on her lap. I looked back at mine; it was made out of what was no-doubt silk, and pretty besides the gaudy heart medallion; the color matched my dress perfectly. I smiled at Diane as authentically as I could as I wrapped the collar around my neck, thereby exorcising what remained of my humanity from my soul—and mated the two halves of the buckle, thereby sealing my soul so that my humanity could never return. “Thank you, Mistress.”
My ‘thank you’ very visibly pleased her. Georgina, on the other hand, was struggling to get hers on—by which I mean it was still in the box with her eyes fixed on the blank space where her name was soon to be engraved. I laid a hand on her shoulder. She broke her stare and slowly turned her head, her expression at first shocked, then pleading. I picked up the no-mere-choker, wrapped it around her neck, fastened it, and adjusted it to be snug while she silently panicked.
“Your names will be engraved later,” said our mistress with a smile. “Georgie, my dear, wearing a collar can be a little overwhelming at first, but you will find yourself acclimated to it sooner than you would imagine. It may help you to caress the fabric; my other submissives find the texture comforting, and the pressure of the collar hugging their necks to be soothing. Go ahead, touch it, feel it.”
With stilted movements Georgina reached for her neck and touched the fabric.
“Stroke it, stimulate your fingertips.”
She did so, for a minute, at first to no perceivable effect—then gradually her eyes and shoulders and breathing relaxed.
“Very good, that is a good girl. Let us be off.” Georgina and I were still unsure of what to make of our situation as we got out of the car. We crossed the street and walked a block-and-a-half until we came upon an older building—an old speakeasy, the Night Owl, whose exterior looked like it had seen better days. The unlit neon sign out front hadn’t seen maintenance in half a century, and the windows were boarded up with plywood—yet there was a line out the front and around the corner. We waited among people dressed about as well as we were, if not better, but Georgina’s white gown stood out, as it was the only one lacking hue. I was a little jealous of her—black was perhaps the most common color, so that the only thing about me that immediately caught other people’s eyes was my hair. Diane had surprised us with a blue velvet dress that shimmered in the late afternoon sunlight. ((I guess she doesn’t mind switching between butch and femme.))
Out of nowhere, our owner exclaimed, “Oh! How could I have forgotten?” then reached into her purse and handed me a metal clasp attached to one end of a long black strip of leather. The other end of the strip was a loop which she held in her other hand. Horror welled up inside my chest as I finally realized what it meant to belong to someone.
“Oh, no, fuck that shit,” said Shosh. “Esti, this is sick. Tell her to fuck off.”
((I will not be forced to follow somebody at their heels, tugged this way and that against my will, treated like an animal. Although…)) “(The deal,)” I whispered.
“You don’t have to do this.”
“(She said I can stop anything if I say ‘red’.)”
“Drea, are you experiencing difficulty in speaking up, or are you simply talking to yourself?”
“Talking to myself, Mistress.”
“Esti. Get out of this. Tell her you’re taking a taxi home.”
“(I need her to like me,)” I hissed straight into her ear. Where that need came from should be easy enough to guess at this point. My hands shook as I accepted the clasp and hooked it into the D-ring from which my medallion hung.
“I can’t watch my little girl do this to herself.” And then she was gone.
I turned to see how Georgina was faring; she was staring in fear at the white leash our mistress was presenting to her, like a cat backed into a corner by a dog.
I gently sandwiched her hands between mine, and whispered into her ear, “How badly do you want to be a Medical Examiner?”
“(I need it.)”
“Would you do anything to have it?”
“(Anything.)”
“Then this should be a breeze.” I took one of her hands and wrapped her fingers around the pet-end of the leash, and brought it towards her neck. She took the clasp in the other hand and hooked it around her D-ring, then lowered her arms and looked to her mistress—with the most pathetic face I’d ever seen—for feedback.
Diane gave her some in the form of a smile, a pat on the head, and a “Good girl.” She smiled at me, too, and scratched under my chin. “And you, my well-behaved darling, are setting a very good example. I think I shall call you… ‘Eupraxia’.” She reached into her purse and brought out a Teddy Graham, which she held out in her palm. I took the hint and scooped it up… licking her palm in the process.
This amused her to the point of smirking. “It would seem I have a food-driven pet; no wonder you have been so eager to be trained.” She turned to Georgina. “You, Georgie… Well, I am still getting to know you, so I am still deciding on your name.” She gave her a cookie, too, which was accepted by hand rather than by mouth. “As for my name, I am Moneta for the duration of our visit.”
We pets were in such a strange mood by this point that we weren’t inclined to any sort of conversation, and to my relief Diane made no attempt to start any with us, though she chatted with other people holding leashes, many of whom complimented us for our beauty. The line moved, head-by-head, until we were at the entrance, guarded by a man, 5′10″, with a pencil mustache and black curls, in a dark purple two-piece suit with a magenta bowtie. “Mony! It’s been nearly a week since you visited your people, I am so glad to see you again! But why are you waiting in line like one of the plebians?”
I whispered to Georgina, “(Remember, her name is ‘Moneta’,)” just in case she hadn’t in her stupor been paying attention to our mistress. She nodded absentmindedly; I could only hope that she had absorbed what I told her.
“It is wonderful to be back, Frederico.” They air-kissed each other on both cheeks. “I believed there may be a lesson in experiencing what the less important people endure to get in; more importantly, I wished to show off my newest pets, and that is more easily accomplished amid a bored, slow-moving crowd in daylight than amid a preoccupied crowd blinded by darkness and alcohol.”
“Ahaha, I see! Any trouble getting these ones on the leash?”
“They put them on themselves, without my help, and on their first day no less.”
“Amazing. They must be naturally obedient.”
“Eupraxia here is a German Shepherd in spirit, that is certain, and a thousand times as smart, but the other is… Oh!” She turned to Georgina. “How about ‘Asta’?” Georgina was not impressed—she was hardly present.
“From The Thin Man?” I asked.
“Catch!” She tossed a treat at me and I managed to catch it in my mouth. “That one is for recognizing the reference. Well, girl?”
Georgina, unsure of what to do, nodded dumbly.
“I offered Eupraxia a business opportunity on Saturday, which she accepted this morning. I picked up Asta just two hours ago, Eupraxia brought her to me at the end of the work day. Prax is a fantastic pet, as loyal from the get-go as a veteran police K9, even beyond pet space. Asta is struggling, that must be admitted, but she is a fast learner, and strong-spirited, and, furthermore, has Eupraxia…” She petted me on the head, prompting an involuntary smile. “…to serve as her mentor.”
“Well, they are both bee-you-tee-full,” said Frederico. “I am certain they will be very popular with the other handlers and pets.” The two ‘humans’ grinned. He gestured inside. “The obedience test awaits them, but perhaps you wish to skip it…?”
“Freddie, would you kindly remind me as to whether the guests are allowed to skip this step?”
“Of course not, but… these girls are tenderpaws, and I would hate to see either of Moneta’s pets experience the disappointment of failing the test on their first visit.”
“If they fail, they fail. I have no qualms with supervising either or both.”
“Knowing you, you enjoy holding their leashes.”
She smirked. “You know me, indeed.”
“Very well. You know where to go, Madam Moneta.”
She led us into the front room, where a man, six foot even, shaved head and pencil mustache matching Frederico’s, in a dark blue suit, pale yellow shirt and blue bowtie, stood waiting. “Good evening, Mony! I see you have brought two new pets. Where is Blue?”
“Alas, her schedule clashed with my plans.”
“Well, I’m sure we will see her next time.”
“She is always eager. These two require testing.”
“As you wish. Which of these lovelies is going first?”
“Eupraxia.” Diane handed my leash over to the man, which set me on edge.
“Eupraxia? That’s a pretty name.” I stared daggers at the strange hand holding Mistress’ leash.
“She is the Greek goddess of good conduct,” she informed him. I continued to obsess over the leash, fighting the urge to rip it from his hand and give it back to her.
“Interesting. So is she particularly well-behaved?” ((I don’t know if I actually trust her with my life, but I sure as hell didn’t sign up for anybody else to hold me by a leash.))
“Very. Is she not an impressive specimen, with such lovely hair and figure?”
Mistress’ compliments did nothing to calm me. I tugged on her sleeve, and once I had her attention whispered into her ear, “(I don’t like strangers holding my leash.)”
“(I understand your anxiety, Sweetie,)” she whispered back, “(but this should only be a moment. You need merely follow the commands he gives you, and your leash will be back in my hand in no time.)”
I continued whispering, “(I didn’t sign up to obey strangers, though!)”
“(If you wish to disobey, you will miss out on loads of fun.)”
I half-whispered, half-whined, “(Okay, but—it—it doesn’t feel right!)”
Her reply was as sharp as it was quiet. “(Do you recall what will happen should you fail to satisfy your end of our bargain?)”
With her threat gently tugging the hairs at the nape of my neck, I responded as calmly as I could, “Yes, Mistress.” She fed me a Teddy Graham and gave me her smile; these two gifts were sufficient to calm my nerves and bring back a little of my gumption.
“Is everything alright, ladies?” the man asked.
“Yes, Prax is rather shy when it comes to others holding her leash. She is very obedient—and very loyal, perhaps to a fault,” she said with a fond chuckle. She gently stroked my hair, calming me further. “Go ahead, she will not give you any trouble.”
“As you wish. Come here, Eupraxia.” Much to my shame, he made the kind of kissy noises people make to get the attention of dogs. I went to the pedestal he indicated, covered in the stuff yoga mats are made of. “Sit.” I managed to sit in a half lotus despite my dress. “That’s one way to do it. Up.” I stood up. “Good girl. Speak.”
“About… what?” And then it dawned on me. “Oh. Of course.” I sighed, then replied with annoyed resignation, “Woof.”
“Good girl. Shake.” I offered my hand and he shook it. “Good girl. Spin.” He made a little motion around my head, and I spun around—and was caught off guard by the breeze sucked up into my bare crotch by my dress as it billowed out. “Good girl. Play dead.”
Bored of doing stupid pet tricks, and still a little high on my morning hysteria, I decided to have some fun with it. I clutched my chest, doubled over, looked up at the man and laid my other hand on his chest, dragged my fingertips down his stomach as I fell to my knees gasping, “Call… nine… one… o—” before collapsing with my tongue hanging out of my mouth.
The ‘humans’ chuckled. “Aha! Well, that’s not what we’re normally expecting out of a pet, but you did obey.” I stood up and dusted my knees. “Good job, Eupraxia, very entertaining. Mony, you may take her off her leash.”
((What? I only wore it for like an hour, most of that waiting in line.)) She unhooked my leash. ((Well, I won’t miss it,)) I told myself. ((Good riddance. I’m… free, I guess.)) I touched the D-ring, now no longer attached to my leash. ((Why am I not relieved to be off my leash? Why do I feel… disappointment, of all things? The leash is gone. I ought to be happy. I ought to be celebrating.))
“Asta, was it? Would you like to try, or are you feeling shy?” Georgina looked like she was still in shock from putting on her leash.
I whispered into her ear, “(If you do what he says, you get to take it off. Doesn’t that sound nice?)” She nodded absently. “(Just do what he says. Don’t even think about it. Think like a dog and do what a good dog would do. It’s like playing pretend, just like when you were a kid. You can do it.)” I gently nudged her towards the man. “(Just tap into your playful side. You’re a well-behaved and well-trained Great Dane, eager to please her mistress.)”
“You weren’t kidding about Eupraxia being supportive.” He commanded Georgina to do the same tricks, and she half-heartedly performed each of them to the man’s satisfaction. “She is not overflowing with enthusiasm, but she passed the test. She is free to wander from you—not that anybody would stop you from removing your leash from an unruly pet once you were inside…”
“I do not grant myself exemptions from the rules.”
“You never have, never will.” Diane unhooked her other pet’s leash.
Asta grasped her own neck as life came back into her eyes. She whispered to me, “(God, I feel like she just took a noose off of me.)”
“Yeah, I’m not a big fan of the leash, either,” I replied. “I don’t understand why dogs get so damn excited about them…” ((…besides going on a walk with your owner and bonding over shared experiences of the beauty of Nature or the grandeur of the City or the laid-back quaintness of the Countryside, being taken to new places and meeting new people and pets, and smelling all of the weird and wild and wonderful things out there. —But, but—I definitely don’t feel any of that. I don’t have a canine sense of smell. I hate all of that crap. I’d never enjoy… getting closer to my handsome mistress… exploring the underappreciated corners of the world… her showing off how I’m such a pretty and well-behaved and overall good girl to the people we encounter in our wanderings… and making lots of new friends in the process…)) “There’s absolutely no… no appeal to being on the leash.”
“Agreed.”
“Heel, Prax, Asta,” commanded Diane; we fell in line, and she led us through one set of double doors followed by another, into a bewitching atmosphere of colorful geometric figures of light that ensnared my eye, thumpy dance music that brought to the surface my primal need to move and groove with others, and a writhing mass of human animals calling for me to join them.