Darling Pet

Standing—or rather sitting—on the grass, Charlie felt the cold stems against his bare knees and the weight of his own breasts swaying with each breath. Every movement of his chest made the little bell on his collar ring softly, and that sound pierced him with the humiliating awareness that this was not a game anymore, not here and now.

A bit further away, by the white pickup truck with the flashing light, his “wife”—or rather now the man and master in his body—Sarah, was talking to the officer. The policeman, a man of about thirty-five, dressed in a uniform with perfectly ironed creases, held a notebook and listened attentively.

— Mister Brown, — Officer Johnson hesitated slightly, throwing a quick glance at Charlie, kneeling on the grass. — Did you see the sign at the entrance to the park?

Sarah, in Charlie’s male body, smiled faintly, even leaned against the hood of the pickup, as if the whole scene was just light chit-chat.

— Uh. What sign? — Sarah said almost lazily, leaning against the pickup’s hood. Then she turned her head toward Charlie and winked.

And something twisted inside Charlie. His knees were freezing from the damp grass, his tits pulling down, the bell catching the air with every breath, and that half-smile on Sarah’s—his own—face now somehow echoed on his lips. He hated it. Hated kneeling naked like some damn puppy while Sarah, in his body, stood tall and confident, talking to the officer like that’s how it was supposed to be. Even though she was always the one who wanted to play “puppies,” not him.

— “No pets allowed,” — the officer said, narrowing his eyes a bit as he shifted his gaze from “Mister Brown” to the girl kneeling in the grass.

— Ah… yeah, yeah, I saw it, — Sarah-Charlie replied lightly, as if it meant nothing at all. The words slid past Charlie; they were just a bunch of sounds now, like birdsong. He heard the tone, saw the smirk on the face of his own body, but the meaning was gone, dissolving into emptiness. Charlie opened his mouth, as if to add at least a word, but only a soft breath came out—he no longer knew how to speak like a human.

And yet they had chosen this reality themselves, just for fun, where girls were kept as pets. With that crazy device, they had tried almost everything already, from different angles. A world where girls were nothing but pets had, for Sarah, seemed interesting that evening. She loved games where she could be submissive, a beloved toy. And Charlie didn’t mind her fantasies, agreeing to radically change reality “for a couple of hours, just for fun.” But things went differently. The world clicked over like it always did; their appearances always shifted a little when reality changed. But this time, they had switched bodies. Now Sarah strutted around in his male shell, and he was stuck with soft breasts dragging down with every breath, with hips, with a bell ringing at every clumsy move. And worst of all, he could no longer understand human words.

After the shock passed, Sarah suggested they take a walk, since they were stuck here anyway until the device recharged. A walk to look at the world they had created from their twisted fantasies.

Charlie had to crawl after her on all fours, because otherwise the body simply wouldn’t obey. His knees quickly became wet from the grass, every bump in the ground digging into his skin. His breasts hung heavy, swaying with every move, and the bell on his neck rang louder the faster he tried to catch up with her. The world was strange: along the path there were the same kind of girl-pets, some with collars, others on short leashes. Men and women walked them, chatting with each other and paying no attention to the naked “pets” crawling beside them on all fours, their tits bouncing.

— Alright, officer. I’ll put the leash on now, — said “Mister Brown” with a smirk.

She pushed herself away from the hood and slowly walked toward him. Charlie, pressed down by the cold grass, watched as his familiar male body in an expensive shirt bent down to him with a wide grin. With a click, the clasp locked shut, and the leash tightened, ringing together with the bell on his breasts.

But at that very moment, Sarah, stepping back, didn’t notice a low-hanging branch. There was a dull thud. She staggered awkwardly, then collapsed to the ground, her body going limp. The officer rushed forward, shouted something, his notebook falling into the grass.

For Charlie everything turned into a stream of images and sounds that no longer formed words. But he understood that Sarah had blacked out, and he only hoped she was alive. He stood nearby, making low moaning noises, trying somehow to help, but all his actions looked more like the helpless attempts of an animal trying to get attention. He lunged toward Sarah, but the officer jerked the leash sharply, and Charlie fell with a muffled groan onto his breasts in the wet grass. The bell rang especially loud, echoing in his ears with a humiliating reminder that in their eyes he wasn’t even human anymore.

— Easy, girl, easy, — the officer said, lowering his hand as if calming a pet. The meaning of the words slipped past, but the tone was obvious. — Your master will be taken to the hospital now, and you’ll be placed somewhere for the time being, — he continued in a slightly softer voice, as if explaining it to a small child or an animal.

Charlie didn’t understand the words, but he caught the tone: he was being pushed aside. He let out a plaintive breath, his breasts rising and swaying down again, the bell rattling with every movement. The officer gripped the leash tight, and Charlie had to get back on all fours.

While the stretcher with Sarah’s body was being loaded into the ambulance, the officer led him to another van — white, with bars on the windows. Charlie tried to turn back, but the leash pulled tight, and the metallic jingle pierced through him in unison with his heartbeat.

Inside the van were him and a few others like him. Girl-pets, each with a collar, some with leashes, some without. They sat or lay on their knees, some with their heads drooping sleepily, others watching with alert, wary eyes. When the officer shoved Charlie inside, one of them let out a quiet whimper, as if greeting him.

— Such a good girl, — came a woman’s voice from behind. It was an attendant in the uniform of a shelter worker. Charlie turned, staring at her with frightened eyes, and immediately tried to get out of the van. But as soon as he made a sharp move, a gloved hand grabbed his collar and yanked him down.

— Quiet, — the woman said in the same tone used to scold a disobedient animal. She ran her fingers along his cheek, squeezed his chin slightly, and opened his mouth as if checking his bite. — Don’t worry, you’re going to love it here.

Charlie jerked, but her grip was iron. The bell rang, echoing in his ears. The woman smiled, patted his cheek like she was playing with a puppy, and shoved him back deeper into the van.

The vehicle started moving. The girl-pets around him smiled, exchanged glances, one of them giggled. And he sat on all fours, his breasts swaying heavily with the rhythm of the ride. Looked like he was stuck here for more than just a couple of hours.