What does it take for someone to decide, on a whim, to sell their freedom to someone they just met? I know how insane that sounds, but you probably have figured out the answer already: money.
It was a Sunday, on December 1st; I was sitting on my couch, phone in hand, thumb hovering above the “install” button. The app was called “Pet Shop”, but I knew it was more than an app. It was a community, a system. It was the saving grace for a good portion of the population of Aphrocity, and it was going to be mine too. I knew what I was about to do would change my life drastically, but change is something I’ve been begging for.
This is what would bring me here, a few meters away from this beautiful pale girl, a subtle redhead with shades of blonde. Grey eyes standing above a grin, and a small body wrapped into a white crop top and a yellow jacket. I’m telling myself that she seemed nice, that I didn’t do a mistake by accepting the terms and services and setting up a “pet” profile.
Pets. You can’t go for a walk here without seeing one of them; only some wear outrageous masks and bondage, but all of them are, leather or not, at the end of a leash, attached to their owners. When I first came here and saw them I felt bad, thinking that there would be nothing more tragic than giving away your freedom because you’re broke and out of options.
Was it stressful, embarrassing? Yes, but tragic? Setting up an account through the app made me realize how ignorant I was; I did not know how much control the pet had. I didn’t know I could choose my owner and, while the collar was a requirement, I could decide if I was going to walk on all fours, bark, or wear a gag in public. Apparently, you could uncheck everything and just be “some guy” in a collar, and to my surprise, that’s what a lot of owners were looking for.
48 hours after signing up with the app, I was already meeting with a potential owner at a bistro; I wasn’t aware of it at first, but I understood it was customary for an adoptee and an adopter to meet face-to-face before accepting to the adoption in question. It was good news for me since I still had hesitations about going through with the process and meeting her helped me coming up to terms with it. I arrived first, but I only waited for a few minutes before she showed up. She first seemed distracted, preoccupied with whatever she had to do on her phone, but as soon as the first drinks arrived, she put it on the table, face up.
I was interested in her because her requirements seemed reasonable to me: all she asked for was for her pet to abandon all his possessions and not bring any personal belongings into her house, and since I didn’t have much to my name this seemed like a very small sacrifice. She was also looking for a first-time pet, which I was.
Her name was Mara. She probably had the best profile out of the owners I matched with. Her pictures were clearly from a professional photoshoot, which included various poses spanning different outfits. She flaunted high-value clothes, which, paired with the links on her profile, revealed to me that she was a well-known personality in the city. That meant good credit, which meant a much, much better house than the residence I was living in. I hate to think that I went with her just because she was loaded but saying I didn’t factor it while making my decision would be absurd. I might not have been sure if I had ever heard of her, her face did seem familiar. She noticed I was staring, she smiled.
“Are you nervous, Charlie?” Her first words to me, apart from an absent greeting minutes ago. She sounds friendly, comfortable.
“I don’t know, I—“, I’m stumbling through my words, “yes, a little bit,” I admit.
She chuckles, “Don’t worry. It’s your first time, right?”
“Yes…”
“Are you doing it for your credit?”
“I don’t—is that, is that the reason? Usually?”
“I think it is, but usually they pick auction, you didn’t pick auction.”
“No.”
Auctions, I remember that option. After I selected that I was going to try to be a pet for only a month, I was asked if I wanted to be adopted or auctioned. Auctions are exactly what it sounds like, where you’re automatically signed with the highest bidder; you give away the option to have a say in who your owner will be, but you can get up to 10 times the amount of credit you’d get from a regular adoption. I knew my credit was tight, but for a first try I preferred to be a little safer: I wasn’t that desperate.
“So, are you doing it for your credit?”
“I’d rather not—” I stop myself, look at her; she’s just being nice. I feel stupid for being defensive. “It is. I ruined my credit the first few months I spent here, never got a job, can’t get hired, can’t move out…” I’m suddenly rethinking about my last few months here; how terrible they’ve been. “Why do you ask, is it important?”
“Of course not, I just want to know more about you.”
I could barely look at her. She looked so relaxed. It made it feel like I was dumb for being stressed, and that made me even more stressed. I didn’t notice my right hand shaking on the table; she did.
“Charlie!” she laughed, “am I making you anxious? Here—” She grabbed my hand with both of hers, rubbing her thumbs into my palm. I felt chills go down my spine, seemingly bringing the tension out with it. “Is this better, are you better?”
“Y-yes… thank you.” The breach of personal space is startling at first, but if she’s going to adopt me, I’d have to get used to it.
“Is this bad for you? Pet Shop, was it… last resort?”
“N-no… Nothing like that, I’ve been through education, I could probably get a good job it’s just… I’m just new to this, I don’t know if this is for me, and I’m…” I couldn’t finish.
“Scared?”
The word catches me by surprise, “Oh no! Nothing like that, I’m—”
“It’s okay! Most pets are scared, it’s common, trust me.”
She’s so gentle. Even though I knew I mustn’t have been the only one, her telling me it was common to be stressed helped me a little. She’s so good at this, being reassuring, I don’t even notice that her red-painted nails have started to caress my wrist.
“Do you smoke?” she asks.
“Smoke what?”
“Anything.”
“I don’t.”
“Drink?”
“Sometimes.”
“What’s your diet?”
“Any—I don’t know, anything.”
“You’re fine with being vegetarian?”
“Yes, I think.”
“You think you are or are you?”
“I mean, I do. I’m fine.”
Her hands are taking more of my arm; it’s now laying onto hers, her other hand caressing the length of my forearm.
“Do you know who I am?”
“Mara?”
“I mean, do you know what I do?”
“I think—an influencer I think?”
“Have you ever seen what I do?”
“No, I’m—I’m sorry.”
“No, no, no… it’s perfect, I prefer when they don’t know.”
Her smile is kind. I’m staring straight at her, and I can’t look away. I don’t think it’s because she’s supposedly famous, but I’ve spent less than ten minutes with her and I already see it: she’s good at this, very good at this. She has barely said anything, and I know I could listen to her for hours, that I could tell her anything.
“I am a brand ambassador, for Moxie. I make videos, posts, go to events. My entire wardrobe is Moxie products, yours will be too. You’ve ever worn Moxie?”
“No, I didn’t know they made clothes for guys.”
“They do! They’re amazing, you’ll love them.”
I don’t know what to say, I’ve never really cared about clothes before. It doesn’t matter, she continues:
“How long are you doing the adoption?”
“A month.”
She looks confused, removes her hands from my arm. As soon as she lets go it feel weird that she’s not touching me anymore; I rattle my arm, trying to shake off the chills.
“Are you sure, can you look?”
“Yeah, sure,” I take my phone out of my pocket, open the app and I go to my profile, but before I can check she snatches the phone from my hand and looks through it herself. She looks around my profile, inspecting it.
“I want you to do it for six months,” I watch her change my preferences from one to six. She puts the phone back on the table. “I want to adopt you. I’ll accept on my phone, but you can accept first. All you need to do is press here.”
“Wait, no!” It’s like I’m being snapped out of a daydream. “I thought—I’m sorry but I really would prefer to do this only for a month.”
“You know doing six months pay better?”
“I know it’s just—I’d rather if we did it for only a month, and then if I like it, I’ll continue for six other months, I promise!”
She seems baffled, she looks at me like I’m insane. “We’re doing six months, Charlie, just press here.” She taps on the table, next to my phone. This situation is too scary for me to commit for six other months, I’d rather keep looking. As if reading my mind, she changes tactics. “You know you lied on your profile, right? You wrote that you’re 5 ft 2.”
“I am.”
“I’m 5 ft 4, you’re almost as tall as I am.”
“I don’t—are you sure?”
“When I arrived earlier, we hugged, and you were basically at my height. You’re at least 5 ft 3.”
“I’m sorry, I must have grown since last time.”
“Uh-uh. You know I don’t get pets above 5 ft 2? You’re lucky I’m willing to still adopt you. I’m going to have to wear heels.”
While she’s berating me, I try to take my phone, but she’s quicker at grabbing my wrist.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“I want to change it back.”
“You’re not changing it back.”
“Then, I’m sorry, but this is not going to work.”
She clearly didn’t expect me to stand up to her, but all it does, it seems, is annoy her. “You know there are at least a hundred pets I could adopt instead of you.”
“Good for you, then. I had offers from other owners too.”
“It doesn’t matter, you’re going to accept.”
“I won’t.”
“This is hilarious; do you think you have a choice? Do you think you have the upper hand here? I’m doing you charity.”
“I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to.”
“But that’s the thing: you want this.”
“I don’t—”
“No, think about it. Out of your options, I’m the one with the best credit, right? Best house, best food, best clothes. What do you think is going to happen to you once we’re through? People love me, and they’ll love you. That’s going to make you valuable. And let’s just be real here,” She grabs my hand again, gently caressing it like earlier, “you know this is a sex thing, right? How many times have you jerked off thinking you were with a girl like me?”
“It’s not—” I try to retort, but she doesn’t let me. I’m not allowed.
“You’re aware these other owners are probably ugly freaks; they’re not going to take care of you as I will. You’ll live in their small, crappy houses, eat their junk, spend all your days inside, you’ll get fat, and then only the ugliest freaks will adopt you, and you won’t have any options left. You’ll have to do everything they tell you; they’ll make you eat your own shit, hit you, and you’ll know that if you ever mutter your safe word, they’ll kick you out, and then you’ll have nothing left.”
Without stopping, she continues, “I know you, Charlie, I know who you are. You moved to Aphrocity because you thought you wanted sex and freaky orgies, but you don’t, and now you’re broke and depressed. You never had good sex, never had a lasting relationship, your parents don’t even care where you are. That’s why you’re here because— this? You love this, that’s why your erection is about to spring out of your pants.”
I didn’t even notice it, but she’s right. I’m rock solid. She doesn’t even need to look, and she knows. She wants so badly to frame me as someone who enjoys being belittled, as someone who is turned on by humiliation. I think it’s from the way she’s caressing my hand, so I pull it back, hold it against my body. I hate this.
“I’m going to take care of you, Charlie, I’ll love you so much. You won’t have to make a single decision; I’ll take care of everything. What you eat, what you wear, what you do, I’ll take that burden from you, because that’s what you want, I know it, Charlie. You’re in a bad place right now, this wasn’t your first choice, but you tried other things first, didn’t you? What was it? Writing? Programming? Art?”
“Programming.”
“Of course, but that didn’t work out, no one is hiring right now, no one ever does, so you’re scared. You know if this doesn’t work out, you’re going to be in trouble, you’re scared to be evicted, and then you’ll have no choice but to move to some other city, one of these terrible places where people never get out of, those dead-end places— or worse, you’re scared you’ll be homeless, stuck outside.”
She takes a pause, but even though I want to I’m unable to defend myself, tell her she’s wrong.
“You’re safe with me, for as long as you want, this is it, I’ll protect you, love you. Give you everything you want, because I am kind and loving and I want what’s good for you, I’d hate to see you make the wrong decision here.” She slides my phone back in front of me, “You know what you have to do.”
I hesitate only for an instant, but in an impulse, I pick up my phone and hit “accept”. The app scans my
fingerprint and loads a reply. As soon as I accept the adoption, I exhale all the tension that has been building inside of me, feeling relieved. I think I’m fine, and so I smile, and she does too: she’s happy, but it seems she’s happier for me than for herself. I think I’m fine, but somehow, I’m not, because I feel myself crying. Tears fall into my mouth, and it makes me realize that I’m feeling terrible.
Mara notices it instantly and she leaves her seat and quickly comes to embrace me. “Aw, Charlie! It’s okay now, it’s okay…” My head is comfortably squeezed into between her arms and chest, her hand lovingly going through my hairs, her lips kissing the top of my head.
“It’s been hard… so hard…” I sob. “I didn’t know—I’m sorry I don’t—”
“Shh… It’s fine Charlie, it’s fine… I’m here now…”
She didn’t stay for lunch, but she took care of the bill. After hugging me for a while, she told me she couldn’t wait for me to come home. It was a weird day, my meeting with Mara got me through so many emotions I didn’t even know I was feeling. At least, I was feeling good about it, it didn’t seem like I had made a mistake. My life wasn’t as bad as she made it sound like, but she was right, I was stressed because of my financial situation and now… it was just an afterthought. I was going to have an owner, someone to care for me, love me.
I had a week to get my things out of my apartment and move to Mara’s place. She didn’t want me to bring anything with me, so I was going to have to either sell or return the little I had. A few clothes, my computer, even my phone; I wasn’t going to need it, she told me. Of course, I was excited to finally be with her, live somewhere that wasn’t so cramped and depressing.
Mara felt like the best thing to ever happen to me, I knew this was where I belonged. Only, I had no idea that this was all a ruse, and that the life she promised wouldn’t even come close to how she intended to use me.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/o0lom0/noncon_setting_myself_for_adoption_because_im
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