“You may come to realize, in time, that as a pet, a lot of your life will remain the same: I will keep you fed, housed, and well cared for. We’ll spend time together. The main difference, you’ll find, is… a certain restriction on your freedoms that you didn’t have before, things I allowed you that you’ll no longer have…”
I trailed off, before reaching under Miranda’s chin with a finger, forcing her out of her slump to maintain eye contact with me.
“That is, if you’re a pet in good standing. If I find your attitude disrespectful, though, I’ll be forced to take action. There are lines a human can cross that pet are not allowed, after all.”
I sighed. “Of course, this is hard because it’s still you Miranda. There is only so much I’m willing to do to you compared to others, and that could make disciplining you… difficult.”
For a moment, hope flared into her eyes. Then I continued.
“Do you know what one of your biggest mistakes is, Miranda?” I asked. “About the situation we’re in?”
I paused, then clarified. “Beyond the obvious, of course.”
I watched the hope began to flicker and fade, but she didn’t respond. After a moment passed, I continued. “The fuss you made over Amber and Mia. The worry. The concern.”
I gazed deep into her eyes, watching the hope be snuffed out, the bleak despair being overtaken by a fresher, rawer fear.
“Yeeess.” I hissed gleefully, lifting my finger and forcing her to her feet. “If you doubted your ability to manage me, you never should have mentioned them, never should have brought them here. I know the Kennel was unpleasant, but I think you’ve realized by now that I can be worse if I feel the need. You thought I would protect them, but in reality? All you’ve done was give me a weakness to exploit, painted a target on their backs.”
At last, Miranda found her voice. “No… Ian, no please! They’re innocent! They didn’t do anything to you, they’ve tried to please you, Ian pleas-”
“You’re right.” I interrupted. She stared blankly at my response. “What? You are. They’ve bent over backwards to try and comply with my demands, and I’ll admit I’m happy with their attitudes. They’re attractive, willing little toys who would do just about anything for a cookie; what’s not to like? The thing is, Miranda, is that doesn’t matter. They could actually worship me as a god, with prayers and rituals, and they’d still be just as disposable to me as they are now. I may have grown attached to them, and I may regret the act, but you’ve helped me realize that, in one short car trip, I could easily go find two new toys to replace them, or more, even. There’s always going to be more Mins, after all. Ones just as desperate to please, ones so pathetically afraid and hungry that they’d willingly crawl into my mouth just for a chance to eat whatever leftovers remained…”
I stopped and considered what I just said. “Actually, that does sound kind of hot. I think I might want to try that later. But I’m wandering off topic here: while they are good little Mins, that fact only does so much for them. It’s what you think of them that makes their lives have any weight to them. Which, coincidentally, brings me to the next point.”
Reaching out, I scooped up Miranda by her butt, settling her next to my body as I tucked Sydney under my arm. “But first, let’s take this to the table. I think we’ll want the room.”
I had gone and collected a few things before I had returned to the chair, and I could see Miranda take in the new additions to the table top: the box where I had gotten the outfits out of… and a large cage. One just large enough for her to stand in, with its door hanging open invitingly.
Near the top, a water bottle was attached at just the right height for Miranda to be able to drink from its metal tube, while a currently empty tray for food sat on top of a soft bed of litter, the only other feature in an empty environment. To complete the picture, a simple clip hung from the door, one I could manipulate easily, but still requiring more force than even Sydney could muster to open.
“I had a couple of weeks before my house was ready,” I explained to Miranda as I reached my usual chair, “And I decided it would be for the best to prepare for almost any eventuality. I didn’t really think I’d need it, but now I’m happy I thought ahead so much.”
Gently, I deposited Miranda onto the table, where she scrambled to her feet uneasily, before putting Sydney back onto my lap.
“You know, Sydney, you’ve started to grow on me.” I mentioned almost absently as I began to stroke her back again. “Under the circumstance, I’m afraid I’m going to have to confiscate you from Miranda, but you’re turning out to be a great little lap pet all the same.”
There was something unbelievably soothing about petting something so soft and warm, and way she rested perfectly in her new place.
“But now that we’re all here, I think we should turn back to the subject at hand.” I began, turning back to Miranda.
“Amber and Mia. Your friends… or should I say, your ‘friends’? They’re disposable to me, Miranda, but I’m curious: what do they mean to you? I know I call them your friends, but are they? Do you actually like spending time with them? Or they a burden, an obligation? A symbol of your guilt? Or perhaps are they even less than that? Do you just like having little toys of your own, Miranda? Little helpless creatures so desperate for help that they’d even take the person who ruined their lives as a protector? That’s what we’re going to find out, because now we’re going to play a game.”
I smiled a shark’s grin, toothy and filled with anticipation, and she shuddered. “I call it Sacrifice, and for now, Sacrifice is how we’ll clarify your new living situation. Sacrifice, you see, is a game with real life consequences, with penalties that will be very real. And the first thing you need to do to play is simple: strip.”
Miranda’s eyes widened, and she backed away, holding up her arms in a futile defensive moment. “What? Ian, no-”
“Ian, yes.” I interrupted. “But don’t worry, Miranda, it’s completely necessary. How can you understand the cost of losing something when you still have it? But before you can object, like you always do, I need to make something clear.”
Reaching out, I pushed two fingers into her stomach, and she let out a delightful little sound of surprise as she fell onto her butt.
“You, Miranda, are being punished. Normally, I like it when you struggle a bit, fight, complain. Show me that spirit I fell in love with. But right now? Every time you defy me, every time you disobey, every time you refuse? I take something away from you, or the others. I’ve taken a lot of things from them, Miranda, and there’s only so much I take from them until there’s nothing left. So, if I were you, I’d think very carefully about your choices.”
I leaned back in my chair, removing myself from her presence, as she got back up. I wanted whatever to happen to be by done by her own hands.
“So, Miranda. Clothes off.” I tilted my head. “Or do you want to see what happens?”
As it turns out, Miranda did not want to find out what happens.
“Good.” I crooned gently as she reached for the back of her dress. “Good girl, Miranda.”
It wasn’t a strip show, sadly; Miranda took of her clothing in as efficient way as she could, all the while staring at me with soulful, tear filled eyes, silently pleading for what she didn’t dare to ask. As she finally removed the dress, I stared at what she revealed, the tiny intricate underwear, all transparent silk and lace adorning her body, attracting the eye in just right way.
She looked significantly less pleased with my enraptured attention to her outfit than she had been earlier.
“Stop there.” I commanded. “And get those shoes back on.”
Confused, she put the heels back on. I didn’t explain the reasoning, yet. That would be later. Next up…
I laid my hand, face up onto the table, halfway between where me and where she stood. “Bring me the dress, Miranda.”
At that, she started to open her mouth, only to close it in sudden realization. Instead, she reluctantly picked up her outfit from the table and walked towards me on shaky legs, only to stop at my hand.
Miranda looked me said a single, almost sobbing word. “Please.”
It had worked on me before now; again and again and again, I had folded before her desperation. Now I only raised an eyebrow in the air as I asked a simple question.
“Do you think I won’t?”
Miranda broke then, just a bit. She stayed standing, but she sagged in place, her body going limp, tears now falling from her face. I don’t think she even realized she had dropped her dress, or that it had fallen into my hand, until I spoke.
“Good girl, Miranda.” She straightened up at the sound of my voice, in that same way I had seen from the other: at attention, arms behind her back, chest out, head tilted submissively
A beat past, then I saw her move past her unconscious reaction, staring at her now empty hands, and then mine, as she realized what happened.
“You did well.” I continued warmly. “I know you’re having a hard time listening to instruction at the moment, but don’t worry, we’ll get through it together.”
I reached out with my free hand and gently stroked a finger against her cheek; she sighed gently and leaned into my touch, so engrossed by the sensation that she failed to notice the first hand put her dress back into the box. I could have stopped there, but instead, I caressed her hair, a smaller, kinder smile on my face.
No matter what I tried, the bigger gestures I made for her had never gone over well; she had stressed, struggled, and worried every step of the way. It was only moments like these, smaller in scope, with simple physical affection and praise that she truly seemed at peace.
It made me wonder: did she even want to live a life as a person? To face the complexities and hardships of trying to charter her own way in life, against the limitations of being a Min? To try and act an equal against people, beings that physically were so far beyond her to make her seem as nothing and that her mind couldn’t even conceive of being human?
Or did she, somewhere deep inside, want to be owned after all? To live the life of a pet princess, spoiled and adored with a tiny toy crown on her head? Cared for, clothed in finery, fed off her Master’s own plate and carried to and fro, all without worrying about anything more than her own happiness and doing what she was told?
On my lap, I could feel Sydney’s body being lifted up by the power of my erection, the way she adjusted herself around it. It only made me feel even hotter.
“I’m proud of you, Miranda.” I said. “I’m so proud. Are you ready for the next step?”
She frowned as I removed my finger, before tentatively nodding.
“Good. Good, Miranda.” I paused. “Now, get in the cage.”
She jerked. “N-” she began, stopping herself before she could violate my taboo, only to began to beg. “Please. Please Ian, please don’t do this, please!”
I held out my finger again and Miranda rubbed her face against it, almost frantically, hoping it was a sign I’d listen to her and we’d go back to what we were doing before. It was a tempting thought, true, and something I’d love to explore.
But all of this was about proving a point.
I gave her a minute to lavish me with affection before speaking. “Wait any longer, Miranda, and I’ll take that as disobedience.”
She flung herself away from my finger like it burned her, staring at me in betrayal. She stared up at me, and mouthed, ‘please’, one more time, before her nerve broke. Letting out a horrified cry, she turned on her heel and ran into the cage. Once she made it inside, she fell to her knees upon the litter and sobbed into her hands.
“Good girl, Miranda.” I soothed. “Good, good girl.”
Under the sound of my praise, her tears slowed and she looked back to me hopefully. “You did so well, didn’t you? That wasn’t so bad, now was it? Isn’t it nice to listen to me? Isn’t it nice to make me proud?”
I watched her sniffle, and wipe away the rest of the tears before she got back to her feet. Despite the fact she was standing in a literal cage, she smiled at me, happy with her simple treatment and my basic kindness.
It was almost sad to manipulate her so easily.
“Be a good little pet, Miranda, and close the door.” She paled. “Close yourself in the cage, Miranda.”
She shook, for a long, long moment, but then she took a step forward without me having to say anything else. Then another, and another, until she stood in front of the cage’s entrance. She reached out towards the door, only to stop again, hesitation clear on her face. She looked at me, then, then the cage, then at me again.
Then Miranda, without me having to do anything more than speak, closed the door, sealing herself in a cage of her own free well.
Immediately, she grabbed the bars, as if to undo what she had just done, and wept hysterically before she began to scream.
“No. No. NonononononoNONONO!” As I reached out my own hand to pull the cage towards me, her panicked cries gained a new focus.
“Ian! Ian! What did you do to me? What did you do to me?!”
“Me?” I asked, as the cage arrived before me. “Nothing, Miranda. Absolutely nothing.”
Calmly, I grabbed the dangling clasp and locked the door with a smile. “You did this to yourself.”
