FAFOP: A Keeperverse Anthology (complete 10/5)

[CDfm]

Of all of these new pet stories, I find myself being able to relate more to this one because much of it so far has focused on the loss of loved ones. I did like the last chapter because it showed both sides to the issue. I am not so sure people are actually understanding what sex with animals is really all about. There are no tender loving moments resulting in a blissful climax and orgasm. It’s a coupling with pain, screaming, biting, and scratching. An act to simply get the job done and fertilize eggs. A female will only allow the male to mount her when her body is ready to have eggs fertilized. And then she really doesn’t enjoy it they are actually locked together until the act is complete and most often both are in a great deal of pain. 

[kerry]

3 hours ago, CDfm said:

Of all of these new pet stories, I find myself being able to relate more to this one because much of it so far has focused on the loss of loved ones. I did like the last chapter because it showed both sides to the issue. I am not so sure people are actually understanding what sex with animals is really all about. There are no tender loving moments resulting in a blissful climax and orgasm. It’s a coupling with pain, screaming, biting, and scratching. An act to simply get the job done and fertilize eggs. A female will only allow the male to mount her when her body is ready to have eggs fertilized. And then she really doesn’t enjoy it they are actually locked together until the act is complete and most often both are in a great deal of pain. 

I think you are definitely right about the sex thing, as far as animals are concerned. God, if you've ever heard raccoons mating in the middle of the night, you certainly know that. As Marcus indicated, though, this is really something so new it doesn't have a name: sex with a human animal. After all, no one has sex with their cats or dogs. (Well, maybe someone does, but we'll just not think about that.) No, pets in our world mostly do what my cats are doing right now: lying down near me and resting. And when they seek affection, they want petting or tummy rubs, not sex. But these Pets (and this is one reason I differentiate here by the capital P) have bodies that, while they have undergone some sort of Change to facilitate the Bond, are still mostly human. And their human minds are intact. So sex with them, while perhaps more furious and (at least in "Keeper's Pet," much more plentiful, is still something akin to sex with anther human. But as Marcus contemplates, it's neither het nor gay; it's some third thing. It's Pet sex, and gender makes no difference to the Bond. Perhaps if Marcus had been gay he might have taken off Hunter's diaper and gone all the way; who knows? But that would only be due to his past experience, not the current situation. 

 

[SGTbaby]

I love this and don’t mind how you are telling it. I just figured you would loop it around eventually. 

[kerry]

iv. Hallie and Peyton

 

Peyton Rowan lay in her bed, her covers pulled over her head, while her hand snaked out to find her alarm clock and hit “snooze.” When the buzzing stopped, she slipped immediately back into the dream she had been having, a recurring one in which she and Hallie were Bonded, Sometimes in the dream Hallie was the Pet; sometimes Peyton was, but it didn’t matter: as long as she was with Hallie she felt that the world was right. When the buzzer sounded a second time, she opened her eyes.

“Damn,” she said, stopping the alarm and sliding the blankets back. As soon as the open bed was exposed, Lightning jumped onto it and started nuzzling against her.

“It’s OK, Sweetie,” she said. “I’m getting up; you’ll get fed.”

The cat was purring loudly as she rolled over and lowered her feet to the ground. She knew what would come next: what always came next. She would go into the bathroom, use the toilet, brush her teeth and hair, and return to get dressed and face the day. While she was on the toilet, Lightning would nuzzle her legs, meowing his affection and hunger. Once she was dressed, she would go into the kitchen, empty a can of food into his bowl, and lower it for him to eat before making herself a cup of coffee. It was the same routine every morning.

She loved it.

Sometimes, especially if she had had “the dream,” she’d take a moment to consider this daily dance from Lightning’s perspective. He always acted especially happy to see her in the morning, but he was probably just hungry. Still, all of the purring and nuzzling had to mean something, right? Too bad she couldn’t just ask him, as she could a Pet. But that would be too easy.

Besides, despite her dreams, Peyton did not want to bond with anyone, ever. For one thing, she knew that it wouldn’t be Hallie; they knew each other well and it had never happened. For another, the whole thing petrified her. With Hallie it would be one thing; they were already lovers and confidantes, so it would just be an extension of their relationship. But with a stranger? And having to leave Hallie behind?

Peyton’s fear of the Bond was so strong that she’d shifted her career in order to avoid meeting new people. She worked from home now, telecommuting to her job as an accountant after giving up a partner track in her old firm. She’s always been better with numbers than people anyway, she told herself. It made perfect sense. Gradually, though, she had become more and more of a shut-in: Hallie came to her place, never the other way around; they rarely went anywhere together, but if they did she made sure it was arm in arm, as she had a theory that strangers would avert their eyes from public displays of affection. So far, it had proved true. She shopped online for everything from books to clothes to food, and she had delivery people leave their packages outside. If a signature was needed, she gave it quickly and without ever looking directly at the other person. In fact, she had cultivated a lowered gaze everywhere except in the safety of her own apartment.

Peyton Rowan was not going to bond with anyone. Period.

Hallie thought she was being ridiculous, but that it was cute how she was doing it to protect their relationship, so she put up with Peyton’s idiosyncrasies. What she didn’t know was that Peyton spent the greater part of every single day worried that she wouldn’t come home from work or make it to the apartment, that she’d bond with someone else and they’d never see each other again. It was an exhausting life, but it was the only one Peyton could live.

Hallie Rowen had met Peyton because of the coincidence of their similar last names. In a class at college—oddly a literature course even though neither of them was a lit major—they had discovered the quirk about their names on Day One when the professor read out roll. After class they’d had a chance to talk together, and they’d basically been together ever since. Neither could say which version of the name she’d take if they ever were married—heck, maybe they’d just choose a completely different vowel and be Rowin or Rowyn or something—but both expected the future to unfold for them together.

Like so many lovers these days, though, they always had that terrible little gnawing in the back of the throat reminding them that it could all end in a flash. Hallie thought Peyton’s fears were overdone, but she knew they were not unfounded. She had lost a cousin to the Bond in the spring, and two old high school friends were now Pets. It had frightened her so much that she’d attended a meeting of that support group FAFOP. She’d told Peyton about it, hoping she would come, but of course she stayed behind. She’d actually laughed when Hallie brought it up.

“‘FAFOP’? That has to be the stupidest acronym I’ve ever heard.”

Hallie rolled her eyes. “Family and Friends of Pets. It’s a pretty big worldwide organization.”

“Why add the vowels? Why not just FFP? It wouldn’t sound so silly.”

“Gee, I don’t know, Honey. I’ll be sure to ask the founder next time I see him.”

Peyton snickered. “Say hi for me.”

So Hallie had gone alone, and it was pretty much what you’d expect: a bunch of Unbound people telling stories of their losses. She listened to a bunch of them: some guy who had lost his brother, a weeping father whose daughter was now a Pet, someone who had lost a lover when she had bonded. That last one, of course, had hit home for her. It was exactly what she was afraid of, what Peyton was afraid of even more. But the one person whose story was more fascinating than anyone else’s wasn’t even Unbound. He was a Keeper.

At first, when he’d acknowledged his status, there had been murmuring in the room that he didn’t belong there. But the leader said that losses were not necessarily limited to Unbound and asked them to respect his decision to come and listen to him.

“That’s the thing,” the man said. “I lost my sister to the Bond just a couple of weeks ago, and I thought it was the end of my world. I cried for days: such a beautiful, gregarious person reduced to living in a cage and… Well, anyway, you all know. And the very worst part was that I had lost her forever. I was so upset. Then I got angry: how was this at all fair and reasonable? What had she done to deserve this? What had anyone done? I was so angry I could hardly even function. I came to last week’s meeting not knowing what to do

“But then, the most unexpected thing happened. I met a boy and we bonded. And it didn’t take long before I understood what I hadn’t before: from his reactions, from his need to be a part of my life as much as mine for his. I felt a depth of love I can’t even describe, far greater than I had ever known with anyone. It wasn’t even love exactly; it was more as if our very souls had become connected. I knew what he needed without words and he knew what I needed as well. And I thought: well, if this is what Sara was feeling, how could it be bad?”

Hallie couldn’t help herself. She understood the man and even believed him, but it didn’t change one fundamental fact. She found herself raising her hand as if she were still in school, and when the man stopped and acknowledged her she said, simply, “But the Pets—yours and your sister too—are property. So are my friends. We got rid of slavery eons ago; how can you really justify any of this?”

There was another general murmur, this time in agreement with Hallie’s comment, but the man was unperturbed.  He smiled a wan smile. “I don’t try to justify it. It makes absolutely no sense when I try to get logical about it, but I know what is. The Bond is just...staggering. You’ve never felt anything like it. When you are in love without the Bond, you give yourself to someone; it’s a free choice and you know it is. But with the Bond, it’s a compulsion. And the Pets have it too: they are not slaves; they want to serve us. I could try to set Hunter free tonight when I get home, but it won’t work: he’d only be devastated that I don’t want him anymore. It’s a truly reciprocal relationship, and we both get what we need from it.”

The room was silent. The man smiled. “I love Hunter,” he said. “I’d die for him. I’d kill for him. I don’t know how else to say it. The mistake Unbound people make—and I made it too—is to see those Pets on leashes and think it’s sad. If something makes someone totally happy and fulfilled, how can it be sad? I’m happy for my sister now that I know the purity and depth of what she feels. And I thought, well, I should come here and tell you that.”

The man stepped down to a silent response and did not return to his seat. Instead, under everyone’s gaze, he simply walked to the door and left the meeting room. Hallie let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding in. The leader tried to get another person to tell their story, but no one felt that they could. It was a lot to process.

 

“Maybe it was all a bunch of self-justifying bullshit,” Hallie told Peyton back at her apartment.

“Sounds like it,” Peyton agreed.

“The thing is, though, that I really believed that he believed it.”

She sat down next to Peyton and rested her head on her shoulders. The two of them sat that way in silence for several minutes: Peyton between Hallie and Lightning. Then Hallie suddenly raised her head.

“Oh!” she said. “I almost forgot what else we heard.”

She paused dramatically, and Peyton bopped her on the upper arm. “You know I hate those pregnant pauses.”

“Sorry, sorry. But the leader told us that something has changed with the Bond. Apparently, there were two middle-aged women there last week who bonded at the end of the meeting.”

Peyton scrunched up her face. “Ew,” she said. “Like our mothers’ age?”

Hallie nodded. “That’s not all. Jim—the leader—thinks that whatever is causing the Bond is mutating, and if that’s the case there’s no telling what might happen.”

“All the more reason for me to stay inside,” said Peyton. “I wish you would too.”

It was an old discussion, though suddenly running on new fuel. “We’ve been over this, Sweetie. I’m perfectly safe. I have zero interactions with people I don’t know. It’s an advantage of being the tech person for a small company. Mostly, I’m just working in my office, and I know everyone who works there if I need to leave it.”

“But—” Peyton started, but Hallie cut her off.

“Besides, you and I both need to take the risk tomorrow morning. Or have you forgotten about our doctor’s appointments?”

“Shit,” Peyton said. “I had.”

“That’s why you have me, Honey. Now you won’t give me any trouble on this, will you?”

Peyton looked down and gently shook her head.

“Good,” Hallie said. “By the way, I’m staying here tonight just so I can make sure you get there.”

Peyton smiled. “Is that the only reason?”

Climbing on top of her lover, Hallie said, “There might be one or two others.”

 

The waiting room was more crowded than Peyton could ever be comfortable with: too many people, too many potential Bonds. She found a seat on the outskirts and quickly opened the book she always had with her in such times: being absorbed in a novel kept her eyes from wandering. This one was riveting: it was about a woman who used her computer skills to stalk a would-be lover online. Peyton usually didn’t like novels like that, but the characters were fascinating and the protagonist’s utter lack of inhibitions was compelling.

Hallie did look around when she entered the room, though she noted that Peyton, as usual, did not. Even if the Bond was mutating, it was still fairly rare. Though pretty much everyone knew someone who had bonded (which accounted for FAFOP’s success), the vast majority of people were and would remain Unbound. It was comforting to know, and prevented her from becoming as paranoid as Peyton, but she wasn’t stupid enough to take unnecessary risks. Though she glanced around the room, she was always careful not to catch anyone’s eyes. Not that she really needed to be concerned: practically everyone these days avoided eye contact. No one understood why the Bond needed that kind of clear connection, but everyone knew it did.

The waiting room was actually far more crowded than it had been for any of their other appointments, but a glance around revealed no one she hadn’t seen here before except for one middle-aged man doing something on his cell phone. The rest, Hallie knew, were regulars; her memory for people, despite being in a job where she met few new ones, was infallible. She pulled out her magazine from her purse and started reading, waiting to be called in.

Peyton and Hallie always scheduled appointments together, back to back. They had no secrets from each other, and usually sat in on each other’s sessions, which was becoming more and more common for everyone out of the fear of returning to a waiting room and discovering your partner had bonded with someone. Irrational fears, Hallie thought, but she still took no chances. The only exception she and Peyton made was for gyno visits; of course they both had seen everything there was to see down there, but still: some things deserved privacy.

Today was just a regular check-up: no big deal but required to get new prescriptions for their meds. It was always the same: the doctor would ask some questions, take notes on his computer, double-check their current prescriptions, maybe call in his assistant to take some blood. The whole thing never took more than ten minutes for each of them, and the only reason today was an exception was because Peyton’s veins, notorious for going into hiding when a phlebologist was hunting for them, decided that today was a perfect day to go out of town on vacation. It must have taken the poor girl over five minutes even to locate one, and then it took three tries before the blood flowed. When it was over, Peyton had bandaids on both elbows, but they wouldn’t need to do this for another three months.

Out in the waiting room, a cursory glance told Hallie that it was mostly the same crew, and she and Peyton made their next appointments and headed to the door, their heads down as they walked out into the unknown. Just as they reached it, though, the door flew open and Hallie ran right into the person who had opened it, knocking them both off balance. Hallie ended up on her knees, but the other woman, holding onto the door, kept herself upright. She was tall, Scandinavian blonde, and simply beautiful, and she was followed through the door by a carbon copy! Hallie was so stunned that she looked directly at the second girl, and that was all it took: she was simply lost in the tall woman’s eyes.

“No, no!” Peyton cried, realizing what was happening even before Hallie did. “No!” she called again. “I can’t lose you!”

Everyone in the waiting room was looking at the drama near the door. From the tone of Peyton’s voice, most of them probably knew what was going on, and if they didn’t then the sight of a Nordic goddess gently reaching down to a much smaller brunette who couldn’t take her eyes off her would have clued them in.

Hallie heard Peyton’s voice from somewhere close by, but all she could see was the woman extending her hand to her. As she allowed herself to be lifted to her feet, another voice added to the cacophony, and she realized that it was the woman she had run into.

“Elsa, no,” she was saying, clearly upset. “You can’t do this to us.”

The two crying, pleading voices slipped into the background, and all Hallie could focus on was the girl called Elsa, who gazed at her with a sense of both harmony and control.

“What’s your name, Pet?” the tall girl asked, and again Peyton’s terrible cries screamed out in the background.

“Hallie,” replied the woman who was her lover only moments before.

“You can’t take a Pet; you just can’t! It was supposed to be just me and you!” the other blonde woman was saying while Peyton called out, “What about our lives? What about our plans?” but neither Pet nor Keeper heard or cared.

“No, no, no, no, no!” cried Peyton, oblivious to the waiting room full of eyes that were on her, each of them certainly glad that they were not the one bonding or losing someone to the Bond. She sank to the ground, crying, calling out to a person who no longer existed.

“You know what is happening here, don’t you?” Elsa asked, and Hallie nodded. “You’re mine now.”

“I know,” Hallie said as the other woman put her hands on her shoulders. Something inside of her felt the pull of the weeping woman on the ground, and she turned.

“Peyton,” she said, “it’s OK.”

“You’re completely adorable,” said Elsa. “I can’t wait to get to know you. Isn’t it fortunate that we met here? The registration office is just downstairs;  we can take care of it right away.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Hallie replied as her new Keeper led her out into the hallway. Behind her, she could hear Peyton sobbing, and it hurt her somewhere inside, but it really wasn’t her business.

Peyton sat in a heap just inside the doorway, her eyes puffy and her face red, not even trying to wipe away the tears. Hallie! Her whole life had just walked away from her; she wasn’t even sure they’d ever see each other again. And Hallie’s detachment about the whole thing just made it worse. Like they’d never meant anything to each other at all.

“Do you need a hand?” asked someone overhead.

Peyton looked around: all of the eyes in the waiting room were on her, and she suddenly realized she had actually looked at them all. Well, who cares now? she thought. “Thank you,” she said through her tears, and let the tall blonde woman help her up.

She might have had time to realize the deja vu in the scene if she had not looked up and seen the woman’s eyes.

“Oh my God,” she said.

The woman smiled. “How about that?” she asked no one in particular. “Elsa isn‘t the only one.” Then to Peyton, “My name is Maja, and that will do for now. I’ll take great care of you.”

Peyton smiled as if she had never been upset at all. “I’m sure you will,” she said, and then added, “Maja.”

 

In the Pet Registration office, Elsa was just filling out some paperwork when Maja walked in, Peyton right behind her.

Elsa smiled. “You too?”

Maja nodded. “I know, right? Who knew twin stuff reached all the way to the Bond. Now we can stay together as long as we want; we each have new responsibilities, but they are perfectly compatible. And I think these two should be very happy as housemates.”

Hallie, who had noted the scent of another Pet as soon as the door opened, smiled when she saw who it was. Turning to her Mistress, she asked, “Housemates?”

Elsa looked deep into her eyes. “Tell me the truth, Pet. Is that something that you would like?”

Hallie felt a deep love for the woman before her; she was committed to her with everything in her being. But there was Peyton, and she was being offered the best of both worlds.

“Oh yes,” she said, smiling.

“And you’d like it too?” Maja asked her Pet.

“All of us in the same house?” Peyton asked.

“Yes,” her Keeper replied. “We have always lived together. Now we can train our Pets together.”

Peyton felt joy such as she never had felt before. The Bond had turned out to be nothing at all to fear; instead it was going to be a beautiful thing. She would never have to worry about anything again, and she would still have Hallie, their own bond altered, to be sure, but intact. Suddenly she thought of Lightning.

“Would there be room for my cat?” she asked.

Maja laughed. “Of course. If I can care for you, I’m sure I can care for a cat.”

“Then, yes, Maja,” she said. “I’d like that very much.”

Both new Keepers petted their charges. This was going to be wonderful life.

[SGTbaby]

Cool with the twins and how that also is affected! 

[Wannatripbaby]

Wow. That started out so sad and ended so unexpectedly happily! ?

Also I saw that subtle reference to BtG.

Grammar Patrol:

12 hours ago, kerry said:

You know I has those pregnant pauses.”

I'm guessing that was supposed to be hate?

[kerry]

Thanks for the catch, Trip.

[fyunch]

I like the structure of this.  The support group as a crossroads for lots of perspectives on the Keeper and Pet bonding, with opportunities for flashbacks, for Bonding interactions, and so on.

I see an echo of my question about identical twins here.  The question that I was envisioning when I originally asked it was a pair of identical twins Bonding ... there was some whining about  incest, but somehow this doesn't feel like incest.  Perhaps this is because the basic framework is so exotic, or perhaps it's because most Bonds are same sex.  Not sure.  Interesting to explore.

I'm in the middle of writing a contribution that is built around a major status mismatch between pre-Bond Keeper and Pet and the implications of that.  The "Catch a Falling Star" story has some potential in that dimension, of course, so we'll see how these play out.

[kerry]

1 hour ago, fyunch said:

I like the structure of this.  The support group as a crossroads for lots of perspectives on the Keeper and Pet bonding, with opportunities for flashbacks, for Bonding interactions, and so on.

I see an echo of my question about identical twins here.  The question that I was envisioning when I originally asked it was a pair of identical twins Bonding ... there was some whining about  incest, but somehow this doesn't feel like incest.  Perhaps this is because the basic framework is so exotic, or perhaps it's because most Bonds are same sex.  Not sure.  Interesting to explore.

I'm in the middle of writing a contribution that is built around a major status mismatch between pre-Bond Keeper and Pet and the implications of that.  The "Catch a Falling Star" story has some potential in that dimension, of course, so we'll see how these play out.

I agree that the twin thing is interesting. I hope to return to Elsa and Maja in a future chapter. As for status mismatch, yes, I have one in the works that goes there. ?

[kerry]

This one is almost 4500 words long, but there's a lot going on here.

v. Jared

Well, he thought, this one will at least be different.

Jared Lukowski pulled into the parking lot of Medford Unitarian Universalist Church and parked his car, but he didn’t get out. You had to prepare yourself for FAFOP meetings; he surely knew that by now. The stories were uniformly horrendous, sad in the extreme. It helped, of course, to know others were going through what he had when he lost Ronnie, but still… All the feels. So hard to handle.

He looked at the photo of Veronica that he had taped to his dashboard. Almost ten years they’d been married; almost a decade before the Bond took her away. Almost two years since then: will the pain ever stop? As he always did, he kissed his fingertips and touched her face.

Maybe it’s the meetings, he thought. Perhaps the constant pain present in them was interfering with his ability to get past it.

But I don’t *want* to get past it. And there was the rub: even if she was somebody else’s Pet, Jared still loved Ronnie. He couldn’t help himself. Despite evidence that the Bond was, if anything, expanding, he still prayed every night that it would go away as suddenly as it had arrived in the first place. He didn’t care about any other consequences; he just wanted her back.

They hadn’t even had a proper goodbye. He just came home from work one night and she wasn’t there. Like a nightmare. After calling everyone they knew, he’d finally called the police. As soon as it was allowed, he filed a Missing Persons report. He was convinced she had met with some kind of harm; Ronnie never just vanished. It wasn’t like her at all. He’d checked with her office; they hadn’t seen her since Monday. So where was she?

It took two more harrowing days before he learned the truth. The police had long since started checking Pet Registries when adults went missing, but for some reason Ronnie’s Keeper hadn’t filed the paperwork for a couple of days.

“Something about wanting to start training right away,” the cops told him. “He figured the official forms could wait.”

The man who was Ronnie’s Keeper—Jared had never learned his name, nor had he ever seen his wife again—received a warning that he needed to follow the law in the future. Fat lot of good that did, I’m sure. It’s not like he’s going to bond again. Sometimes the laws really didn’t help much at all.

But the meetings, painful as they were, did help a little, at least while he was there. Knowing he was not alone helped. And then, two weeks ago, the most unexpected thing happened. Marcus showed up to speak at the meeting—he’d been there the previous week but had not shared—and he had bonded. He was a Keeper! Oh, how Jared wished to speak to his wife’s friend after his speech ended, but he couldn’t; Marcus had left abruptly. But the general uproar his appearance had caused took over the rest of the meeting. His claim that his ex-fiancée was now happier than she’d ever been and his description of his reciprocal relationship with his own Pet caused quite a buzz. And it was decided that Jim, the leader, would reach out to the Keepers he knew to see if anyone would be willing to let their Pets speak at an upcoming meeting. Maybe there really was something no Unbound could ever comprehend.

Last week, Jim told them that he’d been successful, that at least one Keeper-Pet couple would be here tonight. He told anyone who didn’t think they could handle seeing and speaking with an actual Pet to stay at home, but Jared got the feeling that very few would take him up on that. Despite the pain and sorrow that the Bond had caused them, everyone had a strange, morbid curiosity about it. Could Marcus’s story possibly be true? And what would that mean to them? The emotional inquisitiveness surrounding tonight had kept him up several nights this week. He found himself fascinated by a concept that he couldn’t even have entertained before Marcus’s speech: that maybe Ronnie was actually...OK. It wouldn’t alter his own sense of loss, he thought, but it would be something.

People kept wandering in, and Jared could tell that word had gotten out and that this would be a full meeting. He opened the door and headed into the church. On the way to the meeting room, he happened to glance into a lighted classroom and was stunned to see two Keepers with their Pets in the room. The Keepers were both well-dressed, ready to share; the Pets, both women, were nearly naked other than the ubiquitous Pet diapers. He’d never been this close to actual bonded couples before, and he found his heart racing. Not wanting to stare, he moved on from the classroom and took a seat in the near-capacity meeting room. A look around told him that it was indeed mostly regulars, but there were a few new faces scattered about. Jim stood at the podium and got things started.

“As you should know,” he said, “this is going to be an unusual meeting. We’ll begin, of course, with Sharing; anyone who wants an opportunity to tell their stories should always have one. But when we are through, after a quick break for coffee and sweets, we’ll reconvene for a special visit from two Keepers and their Pets.”

Jared looked around: clearly there were some people who did not know this was going to happen, but they were few.

Jim continued: “If anyone feels uncomfortable doing that, you certainly don’t need to stay. This is a follow-up from the discussion in our meeting two weeks ago, and I don’t expect it to be for everyone. I’ll be honest: I’m not sure how I will react. But I’m happy to do whatever the majority believes will be helpful, and we had an overwhelming consensus two weeks ago.”

And the meeting got underway. As several people got up to share, Jared noticed that the room had a very different energy tonight. He felt it himself: he was only partly paying attention to the disturbing tales being told; too much of him was feeling anticipation for what would come later. He wanted to hear from these Pets far more than he had let himself believe. He needed to, even if he couldn’t explain that to himself. He tried to imagine how he would feel if one of them was Ronnie, and he knew he couldn’t handle that. But he also knew the women he’d seen weren’t Ronnie, so his expectancy overwhelmed whatever qualms he had.

And then it was over. Perhaps because everyone was feeling the same anxious anticipation, far fewer than usual spoke tonight, and Jim told them to help themselves to the refreshments and that they would reconvene in ten minutes.

Drinking his coffee—UUs always had such good coffee—Jared fell into conversation with a young woman he had seen here before. Her name, he remembered, was Daria, and she’d lost her best friend to the Bond.

“I don’t think anyone wanted to speak,” he said.

She smiled apprehensively. “Not tonight,” she said.

He decided to take a small risk. After all she was here too. “I’m finding myself oddly looking forward to this.”

She stared at him for several seconds, during which he couldn’t tell whether she agreed or found him disgusting. Then she said, “I wouldn’t go that far, but I do admit to curiosity.”

He nodded. “Wonder where Jim got them?”

Hey eyes widened. “You don’t know? One couple bonded right here at a meeting, and the other Pet is his own daughter.”

“What!?” Jared asked. “He’s going to see her tonight...as a Pet?”

Daria shrugged her shoulders. “That’s why he’s acting so oddly. He couldn’t find anyone else at first, so he reached out to her Keeper. The guy tried, but couldn’t find anyone, so he offered to come.”

“And Jim said yes.”

“I don’t think he felt he had a choice, so he arranged it. Then the other Keeper returned his call.”

“Wow.”

“No kidding! He’s going to let the other couple go first; that way he can just leave if he has to.”

Jared’s admiration for Jim suddenly doubled. “Wow,” he repeated.

Daria smiled. “Yeah.”

Jim’s voice called them all back to the seats, and when they were all seated—Jim noticed several empty chairs—he announced, “OK. Here’s how this will work: you’ll hear from the Keepers first. Then they will stay to assist their...Pets.”

Jared wondered if anyone else had noticed the pause.

“Each Keeper would like to say a few things about the Bond and their relationships. Please allow them to do so as they choose. When the Pets have the floor, though, both Keepers agreed that it would actually help if you asked questions. OK?”

There was universal assent from the gathered group, and Jim continued.

“Some of you may remember one or the other of the first couple.”

A door opened and two women walked in. Both were probably in their 40s, though they both looked younger. The nearly naked one was on a leash carried by the well-dressed one, and suddenly Jared recognized her as someone who had spoken about the loss of her daughter a little more than a month earlier.

Jim was still speaking. “Both Jeanine and Wendy were a part of this meeting group until they bonded during a meeting about a month ago. You might recall that Peggy told you that the Bond is now affecting a wider variety of people. Anyway, this is Jeanine and Wendy.”

He quickly retreated to the side of the room, where there was a chair for him that he used during the regular sessions, as the Keeper came to the podium. Her Pet, the very attractive woman that Jared had recognized, stood beside her, clearly nervous. Before she spoke to the group, the Keeper turned to her Pet.

“Now you remember what’s going to happen, right?” Her tone was the one people used with small children.

The leashed woman nodded.

“And I’ll be here the whole time, so you’re perfectly safe,” she said. “Would you like a chair to sit on?”

The other woman’s eyes opened wider, and a quick smile crossed her face before, seeing the audience, she went blank again.

“Could someone bring my Pet a chair?” the Keeper asked, taking off the leash and paying it on the floor.

When the other woman was finally sitting down—she actually climbed onto the chair’s seat, folded her legs under herself there, and sort of curled up—the Keeper continued.

“As you can see, Wendy here is very nervous. One of the most wonderful things about being a Pet is having everything taken care of for you; tonight is the first time I have asked her to do something she didn’t want to do. But I remember sitting in this room, just like you, and I know the pain you are in. So does she, but she’s terribly shy.”

Of course she is, Jared thought. She’s in front of a room full of strangers in a collar wearing nothing but a diaper.

The woman named Jeanine continued. “I’ll let her tell you about when we bonded and how she feels about everything, but first I want you to know who I am. I’ve been to these meetings, as I said, but I’ve never spoken before. And if someone had told me that the first time I did so would be as a Keeper I’d have laughed in their face. Nothing like that had ever even crossed my mind until the Bond. I was here because of my son.”

Jared was watching the other woman, who sat patiently in that uncomfortable-looking position on the chair. She was listening, that was clear, but she was still very reluctant to be here.

Jeanine continued. “The thing is, I was devastated, like all of you, when my son bonded. I was broken, but I was also just...embarrassed. My son was becoming some hybrid of human and animal. He had an owner. It was all too much.” She smiled. “Until I bonded myself.”

Jeanine turned to the woman perched on the chair. “Can you tell that story, Pet?”

The woman on the chair shook her head, which elicited a frown from her Keeper. “Now, Wendy, you know you agreed to this. And I’m asking nicely, but I could just tell you to; you know that.”

Wendy looked up at Jeanine. “Please, Mistress?”

The Keeper looked puzzled. “Please what?”

“Please order me to talk.”

“Ah,” said Jeanine, and turned to the audience. “It seems Wendy is very self-conscious. She wants to help, especially because I want her to, but her inhibitions are in the way. She’s asking for an order because she can’t disobey a direct order. The Bond won’t let her. OK, then. Wendy, tell the nice people how we bonded.”

Jared could see a strange look come across Wendy’s face, a strong but quickly passing look that seemed to him to suggest that the woman was being hypnotized, though he knew better. He’d read all about it. The Bond was stronger than any hypnosis ever could be.

Wendy slowly uncurled herself from the chair and stood up right next to Jeanine. As she spoke, she occasionally nuzzled against her Keeper, all inhibitions totally gone.

“It was right here,” she said. “We had both been at the meeting because we’d both lost a child. Then, suddenly, there she was. Mistress. Standing right next to me. And she was the most perfect being I had ever seen.”

Jared thought that was quite a bit of an exaggeration, but didn’t react.

“I looked into her eyes and I just knew I never needed anyone else ever again.”

“But what about your daughter?” asked a woman from the second row.

Wendy smiled. “I still miss her, of course. But it’s different. I know she’s safe and happy. And Mistress even says that she might be able to arrange a visit from Ellie’s Keeper, so I might even get to spend time with her again.”

A man in the third row stood up. “Forgive this observation, but you’re older than most people I’ve seen in...your position.”

Jeanine, smiling, jumped in. “Yes, we’re both in our 40s. But as far as I can tell the Bond works the same whether you’re 20 or 60. And you don’t have to ask her forgiveness; she’s a Pet. She may be insecure about speaking, but I assure you she’s fine with who she is.”

“Is that right, Wendy?” asked the man. “You’re happy going around naked? You’re happy about wearing a diaper? You’re happy about being owned?”

“It’s funny,” said Wendy. “Everyone focuses on the ownership thing. I did too...before. But it isn’t like you think. I’m Jeanine’s Pet, and I know she’ll dedicate her whole life to making me happy. I haven’t got a care in the world. I don’t have to work. She does all of the cooking and cleaning, and she even bathes me. And I am always with someone who loves me deeply. As for the nakedness, well, do you feel hot in here?”

“Not particularly,” said the man.

“I do,” she said. “I feel hot everywhere. It’s one of the things that happens to us after the Change: our body temps go way up. If I put on clothing I’d be sweating to death. And the diaper...well I didn’t like it at first, but it’s practical: I’m completely incontinent now, and I’d be leaking all over the place without it.”

A woman in the first row spoke up. “You say that you are always with someone who loves you, but that can’t be right. Jeanine must have to work, right? What about then?”

As before, Wendy gave a disarming smile. “Mistress puts me in my cage—don’t worry, it’s lined and big and really comfy—when she’s not home, for I could get into trouble otherwise.”

“Trouble?”

“Like the first day she just left me in the house and told me to be good. But I found myself with these...drives. I had to run and run and run, for instance. And I was very hungry but found that my co-ordination was going; I couldn’t hold a fork. So Mistress came home to find food all over the kitchen and a broken lamp I’d knocked into while running. She wasn’t angry, though; she just said she’d never leave me like that again. She has a friend, Lana, who comes to check up on me during the day. She takes me for walks and stuff. It’s nice. But it’s a lot nicer when Mistress gets home.”

Jared found this woman—this Pet—fascinating. And, according to her, the Pet life was an improvement over what she had experienced before. And why not? Life with no responsibilities. But still…

He stood up. “But don’t you find you get bored”

There was that smile again. “How?” she asked. “When I have toys to play with and books to read and TV—Mistress leaves the TV on— and, oh, all sorts of stimulation.”

“You still read?”

“Haven’t you noticed the proliferation of Pet romances and thrillers? Who do you think is reading those?”

“Do you want a romance?” Jared asked.

She shook her head. “Not at all. I just have fun reading about them. I have Mistress; I don’t need anyone else.”

Jeanine turned to Wendy and petted her head. “Good girl,” she said. “You handled all of that brilliantly. I’ll reward you when we get home.”

Jim returned to the podium, shaking Jeanine’s—but not Wendy’s—hand as he came across. “Thank you so much for sharing your story,” he said, the same thing he said after anyone shared at a regular FAFOP meeting.

“You’re welcome,” said Jeanine. “Come, Wendy.”

The other woman dutifully moved to Jeanine’s side, and the Keeper clipped the leash to the collar around her neck and led her out of the room as everyone watched.

“OK, then,” said Jim. “We do have one more couple to hear from.”

The young woman from the refreshment table—Daria—stood up. “You don’t have to do this, Jim,” she said.

He took a deep breath. “No, Daria,” he said. “I think I do.”

As two woman entered the room, one on a leash, Jim kept his head averted. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he said, “this Keeper’s name is Paula O’Neill, and the Pet is named Mary.”

He paused. “She’s my daughter.”

There was general murmuring in the audience. Apparently Jared was not the only one who had managed to miss this bit of news.

Paula O’Neill moved to the podium.

“I want to thank Jim for allowing us to come here tonight. I’ve already expressed to him how perfectly I love Mary and all of the things that Jeanine shared with you before. Mary and I bonded like everyone else does: without intent, in an instant. I don’t know if it is possible to describe the Bond to Unbound in such a way as to make it make much sense, but let me try.”

She looked out at the audience, but Jared knew what she was seeing: almost all eyes were on her Pet, and some had sought out Jim in the corner by the door. Only Paula was speaking, but the attention of the room was clearly divided.

“The Bond is like somehow your soul has been replaced by a super-soul, one that is a part of each of us and both of us, one that stretches out over whatever miles might separate us and connects us. We knew it in a fraction of a second: our two souls were now one. That’s why the fundamentalist fear that Pets lose their souls is absurd. Like Keepers, Pets’ souls expand under the Bond, growing twice as strong. I know that’s a lot of spiritualism for a UU church, but it’s the best way I can describe it.”

Jared couldn’t help himself. “If your souls are connected, do you feel each other’s pain and fear?”

Paula turned to him. “Absolutely. I don’t need to be with Mary to know if something is wrong. She doesn’t have to say it, though she usually does. I may not always know what is the matter, but even if I am working I can tell if something is. And then I’ll call her right away to see if she’s OK.”

She continued, “But by the same token as I feel her pain and fear, I also feel her love. And I know that she cares for me more than I ever thought it possible for anyone to. And that is precisely how much I care for her.”

She turned to the younger woman. “Mary, tell these people why you want to obey me. That’s really what they don’t understand.”

Mary, a petite brunette wearing a purple collar and matching diaper, looked out at the audience for the first time. Until now, she had only had eyes for Paula.

“She’s my everything,” she said succinctly. “She takes such good care of me, how could I not do what she tells me to?”

Daria stood up. “But what about your previous family?” she asked. “What about your father? Didn’t he also deserve your undivided love?”

Mary glanced briefly to where Jim sat, stiff, hardly breathing. “He did, yes,” she said. “And I gave it to him. But the Bond changes all of that. I am literally not the person I was in Papa’s home. My blood is warmer, my senses are heightened, my body is lighter. And I am irrevocably connected to Paula. There is no one who means as much to me. There is no one else who really means anything to me on a day to day basis.”

Jim choked back tears. Jared could see he was fighting the desire to leave the room.

“If Mistress tells me to be nice to her friends, of course I will. I’ll snuggle up to them and purr—yes, I purr now; it’s not something I can control—and make them happy. Because it makes Mistress happy that I do so. But when they leave I just don’t think of them anymore. It’s that way with everyone: I only think of Mistress.”

The tears won the battle and started rolling down Jim’s cheeks, but still he stayed put. Jared wondered why he was putting himself through such torment.

A man near the back of the room stood up. “Don’t you have any regrets? At all?”

She thought for a moment. “Regrets? Only if I don’t fully please Mistress. Understand, it’s like coded in my DNA or something now. We’re connected. It’s the only thing that means anything, the only thing that gives me pleasure.”

There was a pause, and Jim should have been ending things, but he was so lost in his emotions that he didn’t even seem to notice the silence. Daria stood up.

“I think we need to bring this to a close, but I have one more question. How did it feel knowing you’d come her tonight to your father’s church, to your church, and see him?”

Mary tried to respond, but the question had made her look at Jim, and she was clearly having trouble getting words out. She stammered a few times but got nowhere. Her Keeper stepped in.

“Mary’s been a very good girl tonight, answering all of your questions. But I think she is tired, and we probably should indeed end things.”

She reached out to her Pet, but was stopped by a voice from the side of the room.

“No,” Jim said. “I’d really like an answer to that question.”

Mary’s eyes were frightened and she buried her head into Paula’s shoulder. The Keeper turned to Jim. “It’s against the ground roles we set up, Jim.”

“I know,” he replied. “But Mary, please: tell me. How did it feel? How does it feel?”

The Pet looked up at her Keeper, a question in her eyes.

“Very well, Mary. You may answer him. But that was definitely the last question.”

Mary stayed right next to her Keeper, and Jared could see how the proximity gave her strength. Slowly, deliberately, she turned to her father.

“Papa, you have to believe me. If I had any control over any part of this, the last thing I’d want to do is hurt you. You gave me life, and without life I’d never have met Mistress. You brought me up well, taught me kindness, gave me a good education, making me a better companion for Mistress. I owe you a lot. But Mistress is my life now, and I am hers. If you want to know how it felt coming here tonight, the answer is simple. Although I know that, a few months ago, it probably would have been devastating, tonight it was easy. Mistress told me to come, and I came. She told me to answer questions, too; that’s why I had to answer this one. But as for the church, tonight, seeing you, well, there are very nice memories in all of it for me, but all I want right now is to go home and curl up with Mistress.”

Jim’s tears were pouring down his face now, and Paula and Mary took their leaves without another word. As the crowd filed out, Jared watched as some people stopped to offer...what? condolences?...and others scrupulously avoided Jim as they moved out the door. As he himself got to the front of the line of well-wishers, he looked at Jim, a man he looked up to like a father, and asked, simply, “Why did you stay in the room? It was obvious you were in terrible pain.”

Jim raised his head and looked at Jared. “You’re a wonderful young man, Jared. But let me ask you something. If Ronnie were here, only for a little while, and you could spend time with her, even as a Pet, what would you do?”

“I’d stay with her as long as I could. I miss her so much.”

“Yes,” Jim said. “As I miss my daughter. Tonight, I was given a gift. A painful gift, but one nonetheless. She might be a Pet, and she might have moved on, but she was here. For one night I could look at her and listen to her. And even though almost every word out of her mouth was killing me, how could I not stay?”

Jared looked at the teary-eyed man with, if it were possible, even more admiration.

“I’m glad I know you, Jim,” he said.

“Me too,” Jim said, and Jared walked out to his car.

[SGTbaby]

That was definitely different than previous chapters and heavier. But such a great explanation of the bond and how all of that works!  

[HyperShark]

11 hours ago, kerry said:

Jeanine turned to Wendy and petted her head. “Good girl,” she said. “You handled all of that brilliantly. I’ll reward you when he get home.”

Another great chapter!

Though I assume this word was meant to be "we"

[Wannatripbaby]

A painful gift...

Damn. Those 3 little words together somehow contain volumes within them.

[CDfm]

Again I will say that I think you are doing a fantastic job writing the story but I guess I would have to personally experience the bond to find any sort of enjoyment out of how this world operates. 

[kerry]

9 hours ago, CDfm said:

Again I will say that I think you are doing a fantastic job writing the story but I guess I would have to personally experience the bond to find any sort of enjoyment out of how this world operates. 

I think you may be right about that. I just find the concept interesting. I'm not into pet play, so this isn't a personal turn-on or anything, but there is something about the dynamics of this world that made me want to write about it. My next chapter addresses some of the inequities inherent in a world with the Bond, and it's the first time I've directly continued a plot moment here. I'm glad you're enjoying the story.

[kerry]

vi: Jim

 

Jim was barely in the door before he went to the open bottle of wine and poured himself a huge glass of pinot noir. He stood at the kitchen bar downing it in large, quick gulps until it was gone; then poured another and went to the couch to sit.

It had been a hell of a meeting. Not that most of them were not stressful—this was people’s lives after all—but tonight had been hellacious. He’d known it would be, of course. When he invited Paula and Mary, he’d expected...well, he wasn’t sure what he’d expected but he knew he’d come out of the night worse than he went in. And he had. It helped that so many people stopped by afterwards to make sure he was OK; it was good to know they cared. But hearing Mary say those things…

He knew what the Bond did. Of course he knew; he couldn’t lead this group if he didn’t. Week after week of listening to people whose lives, like his own, had been radically altered by some mysterious force. They’d started calling it a virus, but no one knew for sure. And anyway, unlike many viruses, there was nothing you could do to protect yourself. No vaccines. No treatments. No little white masks filtering the air. There was nothing that could help. Like Mary: you’re in the wrong place at the perfect time and BAM.

Paula had told him that the met at the Post Office. The freaking Post Office! Who even uses the Post Office anymore? Especially 20-year-olds. But there she was, waiting in line, and Mary stopped at the counter to fill out a form, and they both looked up, and then…

How can your whole life change over random chance?

But it does, doesn’t it? You choose to attend a party or don’t and you maybe meet the love of your life. You get bitten by the wrong mosquito and end up with a terrible disease. You take a random elective course in college just for fun and it changes your whole career goal. You get off the highway seconds before a deadly crash. Or you miss a plane that ends up going down. Chance controls our lives.

And especially now, with the Bond, everyone is keenly aware of that fact, as hard to accept as it is.

The Post Office. Jesus.

Jim tried to think of a more mundane task than mailing a letter or package but he failed utterly. You just don’t expect anything to happen when you go to the Post Office. Maybe they’d have an interesting new stamp or something, but aside from that…

He poured a third glass. His nerves were starting to calm down but he wanted to get drunk. Really drunk. The kind of drunk he hadn’t been since college frat parties. The kind of drunk that pulls a dark visor over everything that you do or are. The kind of drunk where...you can truly forget.

He looked at the pinot bottle. That last glass had emptied it, and he found that he had no more. So much for getting drunk.

Why did I think that inviting her would be a good idea?

What he’d said to Jared Caplan was true: a glimpse, even a painful one, was better than none at all. Still, his heart had broken all over again. And now he had actual memories to fight off instead of just feelings. All he needed to do was close his eyes and he’d see her in that collar, on that leash, almost naked except for the diaper. And he’d hear her saying that Paula was all that mattered. That the only reason she had for thanking him was for making her a better Pet to Paula. That it was easy for her to face him. Because he meant nothing.

He took a huge swig of his wine. Desperate for something to take his mind off of Mary, he reached for the remote and turned on the TV. News. The thing had defaulted to CNN. And he was just about to click over to Netflix when he heard the word “Keeper” and refocused.

“We’ll have more of this developing story in a moment,” said Anderson Cooper. But before the station could switch to commercials, Jim saw what the chyron below Cooper said: “Justice Ron Wallingford bonds with Starbucks clerk.”

Seriously? Wallingford’s confirmation just two years ago had been a heated partisan battle due to both his ideology and his youth. He’d only been confirmed with the aid of a tie-breaking vote by the Vice President, yet he’d already cast the key vote in a handful of huge decisions including Kiefer v. Bensonhurst, the decision that codified the legal standing of Pets. Prior to that ruling, the status of Pets had been dubious, but for the most part they continued to have legal rights as citizens. The Kiefer decision had erased that, finding that a Pet was personal property of their Keeper and that, due to the physiological changes that occurred after bonding, they could no longer be considered human. The practical result of the “Keeper” ruling—as a derisive nickname given by activists had it—had been to legalize seizure of a Pet’s assets by their new owner and convey legal  “ownership” titles, rights and responsibilities to Keepers.

And now Wallingford had his own Pet? Jim couldn’t help it: he silently thanked the powers that be that the Pet had only been a barista; people like Wallingford should not profit from their horrific rulings. If he had bonded with a millionaire, like that guy in Seattle had done, his own law would make him very rich. It would be like winning the lottery.

Anderson Cooper came back on. Jim once again thought about Netflix, but found he was interested in the story despite himself. He turned up the volume.

“...not the first government official to experience the Bond. Assistant Treasury Secretary Martha Townsend resigned after bonding last year, making her, at the time, the oldest known person to bond. Three freshman Congressmen continue to serve after their bonds. But Wallingford may be the highest ranking American, and arguably the most famous, to become a Pet.”

Jim’s shock was enough that he spilled some of his pinot noir. “A Pet? Wallingford is a PET?” he said aloud as he sopped it up with a napkin.

“According to the provisions of Kiefer v. Bensonhurst, which Justice Wallingford vocally supported, he automatically relinquishes all citizenship rights and is now the personal property of Alissa Noonan, the 27-year-old barista who is now his Keeper. For a look at what this means to the state of the nation’s highest court as it is about to open its session just weeks before midterm elections, we turn to—”

Jim’s phone rang and he muted the TV.

“Hello,” he said.

It was Raina. He hadn’t heard from his sister in several weeks, but of course she was following this news. She was far more active in political matters than he was, and had in fact gone to Washington to protest the Kiefer decision.

“Karma,” she was saying. “It’s everything that jackass deserves for the way he has been voting since he got on there.”

“I can hardly believe it,” Jim said.

“Believe it, bro. Rachel Maddow devoted her whole show to it.”

“What–wait: her whole show? How long has this story been out there?”

His sister laughed. “God, Jim, where were you? Under a rock? It broke right around 5:00 Eastern time and they already have interviewed the barista and everything.”

He shook his head. “Maybe I should switch to MSNBC?”

“No, no,” she said. “You’re on CNN, right?” Raina knew his viewing habits well.

“Yeah.”

“Well unmute. She’s coming on now.”

The screen was now split between Cooper and a young blonde woman. The legend beneath her identified her as “Alissa Noonan, Keeper of Justice Wallingford.” Well, that’s wrong, he thought. He’s not a Justice anymore.

“I recognized him right away from the news,” she was saying. “I was surprised he was coming in himself to buy a latte; ordinarily important guys send their clerks or their interns. I had always thought of him as a bit of a dick before, but he was pleasant to everyone in line, even the one guy who made some negative remarks.”

“Negative remarks?

“You know: about the cases and such. I wasn’t paying a lot of attention. Anyway, I was about to apologize to him on behalf of the store when our eyes met, and, well, we bonded.”

“We hear about that more and more with store clerks because of the number of strangers they deal with.”

“Yeah,” she said. “Actually I’m the second one at my location to bond. The first was a couple of years ago though.”

“Do you have any plans?”

“Just to take care of my wonderful Ronny,” she said. “I had no one in my life, really, before today. But this is definitely going to change all that.”

“How do you feel about the social differences between you and Justice Wallingford?”

She smiled. “Well, you know, first of all, that he will be resigning his position. I’m going to take care of that officially tomorrow. As for his wealth, well, I’m still going to spend it on him. He’ll be the best cared-for Pet in Washington.”

“What about the age difference?”

She shrugged. “What is it, like twenty years? NBD. And anyway he’s not a 40-something man now; he’s my Pet.” There was a glint in her eye. “His own decision says that.”

Jim hit the mute button again and spoke into the phone. “Jesus,” he said.

“You said it, Bro,” Raina said. “And like I said: karma.”

There was a short lull in the conversation, and then he said, “I saw Mary tonight.”

Raina’s voice faltered a bit. “Oh, God,” she said, “this was insensitive. I shouldn’t be gloating about Wallingford and karma, not to you.”

“It’s fine,” he said. “I thought it too.”

“Where did you see her?” she asked.

“At the meeting,” he said.

“What? That woman brought her to your meeting? What on earth for?”

He drew a deep breath. “Because I invited them.” He started counting mentally. One thousand one, one thousand two—

“WHAT?” came his sister’s stunned voice. “Why would you do that?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know, Raina. People wanted to hear from a Pet and I...missed her.”

“Well,” she asked quietly, “how did it go?”

“About as well as you’d think it would.”

“Oh Jim,” she said. “I’m so sorry.”

“Thanks,” he said, a tear sliding slowly down his cheek. It surprised him; he thought he should be all dried up after the dam had broken at the meeting. “She said she loves being a Pet, Raina. She said it is the most fulfilling thing ever.”

“It’s the Bond,” his sister said. “It brainwashes them.”

There were more tears now, several little rivulets turning his face into a damp road map. “She was there on a leash and she said she was happy.”

“But you know that isn’t real,” she said. “It’s all the Bond.”

“Yes,” he said, “but the Bond is real. And it’s apparently unbreakable. She wasn’t the only Pet we heard from. They agreed that life had never been better.”

“Brainwashing.”

“You didn’t see them. They meant every word.”

He glanced up at the TV. Wallingford’s picture was up again, and the chyron said, “Pet Justice to speak on Thursday.”

“I’m surprised she’s letting that happen,” he muttered.

“What?

“Wallingford. Apparently he’s going to speak publicly. From what those Keepers have told me, it surprises me that she isn’t protecting him from that.”

“How?” she asked simply. “He’s huge news. I doubt that there is much she could do to stop it. I wonder what he’ll say.”

Jim finished his wine. “I think I know. He’ll say how happy he is to be with this Noonan woman and how she makes him feel loved and it’s all he needs.”

“Someone is bound to ask about the Keeper ruling. It’s too deliciously ironic not to.”

“Yes,” he said. “But they’ll be disappointed. If they are looking for karmic retribution, anyway. He’ll say he doesn’t need the Court, that the only thing he cares about is her.”

“Yeah, but he’ll be saying it in a pet diaper.”

Jim laughed, the sound surprising him. “He may or may not be used to that by Thursday. Anyway I guess the picture will give you visible retribution. But from what Mary and this other woman said, they are perfectly content. He probably will be too.”

“You sound like you’re OK with Mary.”

“Oh, I’m not,” he said. “But at least I get it now. I was sitting here before feeling sorry for myself, but this Wallingford thing...if it can happen so easily to a Supreme Court Justice, how can I blame Mary or Paula?”

Raina’s voice was comforting. “I guess you can’t,” she said. “I’ll talk to you later, Little Bro.”

‘Bye, Raina,” he said before clicking off. Wallingford’s picture was still there on the silent TV. He found the remote and turned it off.

Mary, he thought, but he found that his dark emotions has disappeared into an even darker abyss. He still loved her; he always would. But she wasn’t his any longer. Another tear rolled down his cheek, and he rubbed it away. Picking up his empty wine glass, he moved slowly to the kitchen to clean it out. There would be another day tomorrow, a day full of news about Wallingford and nothing about Mary. Even Pets were unequal, he thought. But that was the way the world worked, wasn’t it? Even though the Wallingford story would eventually die down as the former Justice settled into his new life, there would inevitably be the intrusive, voyeuristic follow-up pieces. And Mary Coughlan would fade into oblivion.

He looked at her picture on the wall.

No, he thought. They all must be remembered. And he decided to contact the national leaders of FAFOP to petition Congress for some kind of Pet Remembrance Day. He’d lead the charge if need be. Too many people were simply gone from the lives of their loved ones. They should be remembered, and he’d make sure they were.

[Wannatripbaby]

Another excellent chapter that once again highlights the existential terror in this universe of the possibility--or more like inevitability--of losing yourself or a loved one in a single moment.

It also really makes you think, and I hope this doesn't trigger anyone here: is this how some parents really feel when their child comes out as gay or trans? Or changes religious or political views? I've never been the victim of parental rejection like so many of my friends here, but it really should stop and make you think...

[kerry]

37 minutes ago, Wannatripbaby said:

Another excellent chapter that once again highlights the existential terror in this universe of the possibility--or more like inevitability--of losing yourself or a loved one in a single moment.

It also really makes you think, and I hope this doesn't trigger anyone here: is this how some parents really feel when their child comes out as gay or trans? Or changes religious or political views? I've never been the victim of parental rejection like so many of my friends here, but it really should stop and make you think...

I was thinking about this as I wrote chapters 5 and 6. Although I don't think that Kimmy necessarily intended the Keeperverse to be an allegorical allusion to LGBT issues (though, hey, she might have; I have not asked her), it clearly works that way. So many of us have experienced rejection from parents and friends who could not understand our happiness. My own father rejected me for the greater part of two decades. 

Further, I have a trans son, so I know first hand the pain transition can bring to a parent: all of your hopes and dreams for them crushed in a second, replaced by fear that their lives will now be extremely difficult. Sounds a lot like the effects of the Bond to me. But don't get me wrong: that doesn't excuse rejection; I don't really think anything should. Family ought to support family. But maybe, as Jim does here in the other direction, we can at least begin to understand what they are going through. 

[SGTbaby]

I like how he suddenly switched after being I guess seeing things from a truly different perspectives or a pen occurance which places the prior events into more perspective. The remembering day is an interesting touch and might get support especially with what just happened. Although it might also backfire from some folks still very hurt. Should be good either way!

[CDfm]

I liked the thought of someone big who was behind taking the rights of the pets away having to experience just that. Might have even been better if it was his child who had become the pet. I may be missing something here but I don’t see how this relates to the LGBT at all. I don’t know of any LGBT ‘s who have become the property of someone else. I know that there is some family rejection that they are forced to deal with but in this case the families are the ones who are being rejected in favor of their keepers. I have 4 kids and now 5 grandkids and when they are growing up you do stop and wonder what if. I honestly don’t think I would have felt any different about them if they had told me they were LGBT. My 11 year old grandson is very effeminate and I wouldn’t be shocked if he announced he was gay. I don’t love him any less now that he’s showing more and more of this side to himself. I think his dad feels differently though. 

[kerry]

12 hours ago, CDfm said:

I liked the thought of someone big who was behind taking the rights of the pets away having to experience just that. Might have even been better if it was his child who had become the pet. I may be missing something here but I don’t see how this relates to the LGBT at all. I don’t know of any LGBT ‘s who have become the property of someone else. I know that there is some family rejection that they are forced to deal with but in this case the families are the ones who are being rejected in favor of their keepers. I have 4 kids and now 5 grandkids and when they are growing up you do stop and wonder what if. I honestly don’t think I would have felt any different about them if they had told me they were LGBT. My 11 year old grandson is very effeminate and I wouldn’t be shocked if he announced he was gay. I don’t love him any less now that he’s showing more and more of this side to himself. I think his dad feels differently though. 

I'm trans myself and have a trans son, so I've experienced all of the coming out stuff from both sides of the coin.

My point above was that, for the child, coming out as trans is very hard but ultimately it is the fulfillment of something you have always wanted. You are ebullient, exuberant, and you don't necessarily understand why everyone isn't just happy for you, especially your own family because blood is blood, right? But we all know this is not the case: many parents reject their trans offspring. And even those who don't reject go through a powerful sense of mourning: they have "lost" someone whose existence was dear to them, upon which perhaps their hopes and dreams have relied. The fact that son or daughter is actually still there doesn't alter the sense of loss. I know that, even as I was doing everything I could to support my son, I was mourning the loss of my first-born daughter.

In this way I see a corollary to the Keeperverse. In this fiction universe, the Bond does what transition does: it takes away someone very close to you. Yes, you're right: it takes them away to make them someone's Pet, but it is clear in this and all of the stories that being a Pet is the most fulfilling thing in the world once you've bonded, though the Unbound only see it as a slave-like relationship. It may not be, like transition, the end of a lifetime of dreaming and wishing, but the results are much the same: you've given up one way of existence for another and it truly makes you happy while, at the same time, making your loved ones too often just confused: why do this? how can it make you happy? etc. 

Anyway, that's what I was trying to say.

[kerry]

vii. Aisling

The room was tiny, Aisling thought. It was the only conscious thought she could have; well, and that it was too bright. It was definitely too bright. Why was it so bright? And why were walls closing in on her? She shut her eyes. They were saying her name, but it just felt better to relax, so she ignored them. She didn’t really care if feelings were hurt—Ryan’s feelings deserved to be hurt—she just wanted to take a nap.

Honestly, today Ryan had been such a...well, brat was the only word that came to mind. Which was funny in a way. But still. What had she done to deserve it? Nothing. She may not be the perfect wife, but. Really. And why did he have to go off on her like that? All she ever did was be nice. Indulge him. But he took it too far.

She heard a voice say her name. “Aisling.” But it came from so far away that she didn’t even feel like investigating. “Aisling.” It was like a refrain in a lullaby; she just wanted to sleep. “Aisling.”

“Such a pretty name,” her teacher said. “Tell us something about yourself.”

She looked around at the other kids in the room: so many! Just last year, in Cork, her grade was only eight. Here there were at least twice that many. She started shaking. She never talked in big groups. Ever. And the teacher was waiting.

“Aisling?”

Her left leg drew circles on the tile floor. Her hands were both behind her back.

“Don’t be shy.”

Something weighed her tongue down. She wanted to tell them she had moved from Ireland over the summer. Wanted to open her backpack and show them her stuffed unicorn. Wanted to say how much different it was here than back home. How the traffic scared her. How she— but she couldn’t say anything. Nothing at all.

“Well, you can just share later, Sweetie,” the teacher said. “It’s OK.”

She took a seat. Other kids whispered. About her, she was sure. It hurt her, in the chest, in the side. She heard the teacher’s voice. “Who remembers what happened in our story yesterday?”

Kids raised their hands. 

“Aisling?” Two distinct voices now. One saying her name, the other something she couldn’t understand. She knew they wanted her to open her eyes, but. No way. Even closed, the brightness hurt. And something on her chest felt hot. Weird hot. Like someone was holding a candle too close to her and every once in awhile the wax dripped off and made her wince. She could still feel it between the drips.

He had been himself earlier in the day. The boy she married: all sweet and fun. And they were playing. She remembered playing. His favorite game. But it went wrong.

“Aisling...is that Irish?” He smiled; he had a warm smile.

“You couldn’t tell from the red hair and the accent?” she asked. Smiling herself.

“You don’t have much of an accent.”

“You should hear me on the phone to my cousins in Cork.”

Around them, people bobbed and weaved in that dance people do at parties. The caterpillar, she called it. Moving, undulating around the room. Stopping to chat and leaving to get refreshments. The room was alive.

“I love Ireland,” he said.

“You’ve been?”

“Only to Dublin. But I was there three weeks. I loved walking in St. Stephen’s Green or wandering through the Temple Bar area or shopping in Grafton Street. I could have stayed forever.”

His eyes were green. She thought she had never seen eyes so green. She was lost in them. All she wanted was to stare into them, but. She blushed. She used to blush a lot when she was young. She was blushing now. Their conversation continued and she felt herself slipping away. Hypnotized. By his eyes and that voice. It was green too, the voice. Green like all of the lush grasses in her memory of Ireland. Green like springtime. Green like memories that she knew were forming in that instant.

She would be with this young man forever. No buts.

Maybe that was the problem. Maybe she jumped into love too quickly. But she knew, and when she knew… And it was perfect for awhile.

He told her about his love of diapers when they’d been married two years. Tears in his eyes. She’d never heard of anything like that, but. Tears in his green eyes. Love makes you do strange things sometimes. And she did. She gave him what he needed.

“Aisling.”

It was her mother on the phone.

“Are you all right?”

She’d been crying. Her mother had a sixth sense of some kind. She could hear tears over the phone. Aisling was trying to smile as she talked. It helped to keep the bad at bay. Someone had told her that you can’t smile or laugh and still be sad. Maybe Oprah. But her mother could always tell.

“Ryan and I had a fight.”

“Bad?”

“Bad enough.”

She hadn’t felt like playing. Hadn’t felt like giving herself over to the “mommy” role. She needed her husband, not a baby. Her day had been shit. Too many terrible clients. Too many people who didn’t understand that there were things she didn’t, couldn’t control. But he was needy.

“Just for a little while,” he said.

Another day she’d have done it. Put his diaper on him, fed him a bottle, rubbed against his erection under the plastic. Another day she’d have just given in to him, but. They argued. He ended up going to their room alone. She ended up crying.

“I don’t want to lose him, Mom.”

“Married people fight, Honey. Sure you’ll be making up tomorrow.”

But today was just like yesterday. More crappy clients, more animosity, and she needed him there for her. He sulked at first. Like a baby who had lost a favorite toy. Like a little boy who didn’t want to share. It was pretend, she knew that. She knew he was trying to back door her. Not today. Not today. He wasn’t listening. Kept trying to find a way to get her to join his game. But she lost her temper instead.

“Jesus, Ryan. I don’t want to. I can’t. How about you being strong for me for a change? Or aren’t you even capable of that?”

She hadn’t meant to say that. Hadn’t wanted to, but. She was just so frustrated.

She thought he’d drop it and understand. Maybe that’s even what he was doing when he told her he’d just play by himself. Like yesterday after the fight. She knew he had. Two days in a row, though.

That’s just what he said, too. “Two days in a row? I thought you liked it.”

That wasn’t the issue. She told him that wasn’t the issue. He was growing more and more selfish about everything. They hadn’t had actual sex in weeks. She needed it. She needed him. She needed someone to indulge her for a change.

And he did. He held her close, stroked her hair. He kissed her affectionately. Then he kissed her passionately. Hands roaming up and down the curve of her back as she lay next to him, then rolling her over and climbing on top. He slid into her body smoothly, easily, lifting her buttocks, driving inside. Panting. They were both panting. His thrusts were harder, deeper. Breathing heavy, shallow breaths.

“No, not yet,” she cried out. “I’m not ready.”

But he came anyway. Worse, as usual, his thrusting slowed down quickly after, just a calm rhythmic movement. It wasn’t enough. After a couple of minutes she told him to stop, and he rolled off her as he slipped out, spent.

She stuck her hand down to finish the job, found her clit, rubbed it erect, kept rubbing as her back arched involuntarily, as her breathing quickened, as the sensations became stronger until she exploded, her orgasm lingering, intense.

Exhausted, she pulled her hand away and looked at the ceiling. She didn’t know how long. She thought Ryan had fallen asleep, but.

“Sounded good.” His voice was soft, quiet, green. “Was it?”

She nodded. He couldn’t see her and she knew it, but she nodded. They lay silently next to each other until she felt he had to be sleeping, then she rolled off the bed quietly. She went into the bathroom to wash up. Wash out. When she came back in, he was sitting on the bed, a diaper in his hand.

“Now can you?” he asked.

Stunned, she stood there for a moment. Then: “I told you I don’t feel like it tonight.”

He pouted. “But that was before.”

“Before what, Ryan? Before we finally had sex but I had to finish myself...again?”

He grew defensive. “It wasn’t my fault,” he said. “You know how hard it is for me to hold it.”

“I know how hard it wasn’t after you didn’t hold it.”

“Below the belt,” he said.

“Exactly,” she answered. “And now you expect me to play your stupid game? I told you I didn’t feel like it. You can’t just give me that? Just tonight?”

“It was last night too.”

She snapped. “So the fuck what? I can’t even get an adult husband once in awhile without this whining? For Christ’s sake!”

He whimpered. He actually whimpered.

“You’re already fucking playing, aren’t you?” she said. “I said no, but you’re trying to force it. What is wrong with you?”

She was out of the bed, throwing on some clothing.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I need some fucking fresh air,” she said. “Put on your own goddamn diaper.”

Frustrated and angry, she stormed out of the bedroom, stopped to put on her shoes in the living room, and then left, letting the door slam. She didn’t care. She didn’t. She didn’t need all this shit after the couple of days she’d had. She didn’t want to play baby games and he could just deal with it. She didn’t even try to hold back her tears.

She didn’t see the car until it hit her.

“Aisling?”

Ryan’s voice. Fuck him.

“Aisling? Please. I’m so sorry.” Tears in his voice. Maybe the sixth sense ran in the family. She tried to open her eyes but it hurt. Everything hurt. Her side was on fire. Her chest was burning too. Waves of pain came from her leg. Her arms felt like someone had scraped them down to raw nerves.

“Please,” he was saying. “I can’t lose you.”

He was openly crying now. “Please...I love you.”

“I saw her eyes open for a second, Doctor.” A female voice.

“Aisling? Can you open your eyes?” The voice deep. Not green but violet. She wanted to see who it belonged to, but the light hurt so much.

“Try, OK?”

She tried again. The room was tiny. Bright white light came from everywhere. Her eyes closed again, but she squinted them open. Hospital room. Everything hurt. What was going on? She wanted to go back to sleep, but.

“Aisling, try to stay with us, now. It’s important.”

“Aisling, please!” Ryan again. Off to one side.

She forced her eyes open yet again, took in more details. White cabinets. A woman in a nurse’s uniform. Ryan behind her. Some kind of machines. An IV drip in her arm. Sounds outside the little room: other people talking about other things.

“Can you focus, Aisling?”

She turned her head toward the violet voice. The doctor was young, handsome. She wondered if his eyes matched his voice, like Ryan’s did.

Suddenly the whole room grew dim, fuzzy. She felt as if she were spinning. Ryan and the nurse were saying things simultaneously, but she could not understand either of them. They might as well have been speaking some foreign language. The only point in the room that was not spinning held the deep brown eyes of the doctor, and she found herself drawn into them. Not like with Ryan, though: deeper. Behind the eyes. She felt that she could see his soul.

The doctor smiled.

“You know, don’t you?” he asked.

She nodded.

“What are you feeling?”

She paused. Then: “That I am yours.”

“What?” It was Ryan’s voice, not green at all but bright orange. “What?”

The doctor kept his eyes fixed on Aisling’s. “You’re not afraid?” he asked.

“Not at all,” she said.

“Doctor?” It was the nurse. She spoke slowly, carefully. “I see what’s happening, but don’t lose track of her injuries.”

He looked toward her. “Quite right,” he said.

“I don’t see what’s happening!” Ryan said, his orange voice indignant. “What’s going on with my wife?”

“They’ve bonded,” the nurse said simply.

There was silence. Then: “It can’t be.”

The doctor looked at the husband. “It is.”

“It is, Ryan,” Aisling said simply.

“But...but what about me?” he asked.

The doctor smiled as if speaking to a child. “I’m sure you know that. Ryan, is it? But don’t worry: I’ll take good care of her. I’ll fix her up and she’ll be a very happy Pet.”

Ryan was shaking his head. “No...no!”

“Nurse,” the doctor said, “could you show Mr…” He checked the chart. “Peterson out?”

Protesting and stunned, Ryan allowed himself to be removed from the room. It was the law; everyone knew it was the law. A bonded Pet belonged to their owner no matter what previous connections and commitments they’d had.

“But she’s my wife!” he said.

“Not anymore,” the nurse said. “Not anymore.”

She stopped at a small desk, found a business card and handed it to him. He read it.

“‘Jim Thibodeaux, Families and Friends of Pets.’”

“Call him,” the nurse said. “He’ll help.

Inside the room, Keeper and Pet were still caught in each other’s eyes.

“Do you know you were in a car accident, Aisling?”

She tried to remember. “All I remember is walking. I think I crossed a street and then I don’t remember anything.”

He touched her gently. “There was a car and it hit you. A witness said you actually flew about ten feet, back to the side of the road and onto the grass, which probably saved your life. As it is, you have several broken ribs, a badly bruised hip, severely lacerated arms, and a fractured tibia. Fortunately for you, there are no internal injuries. Pets heal very quickly, but nothing changes a damaged spleen or kidney, or God forbid a heart. As it is, though, you’ll probably heal in a matter of a couple of weeks, given a Pet’s metabolic rates. That should give me plenty of time to take care of everything I need to do.”

She looked at him lovingly. “What’s your name, Master?”

He laughed. “Oh, right. That might be useful. I’m Wade Nelson, and you’re Aisling. Formerly Aisling Peterson. You don’t need a last name anymore.”

She smiled. “Wade Nelson. That’s a nice name.”

The fuzzy feeling was coming back, and she felt herself drifting again. “I think I’m going to sleep now,” she said.

Wade Nelson thought he had never seen anyone more beautiful, even with the bruises. “You do that, Sweetheart. We’ll have all sorts of time to get to know each other. Count on it.”

“Mmhmm,” she mumbled, and closed her eyes.  There was a new life to begin, but. Her dreams were calling out to her. She would dream of Doctor Wade Nelson and his brown eyes. Green was overrated, yesterday’s news. The world had fresh colors now. And so many possibilities.

[Wannatripbaby]

Well that was... very different. Really this could've been expanded into its own entity rather than a Keeperverse story. Perhaps even should've been? I mean, in all the others the Bond had some kind of significance to the plot. Whereas in this one it was basically used as a deus ex machina to solve the conflict established in the first 3/4 of the chapter. It's really a bit of an anti-climax in my opinion. All that story potential squandered just so this could fit into your FAFOP anthology...

That being said this was a great chapter and I'll have to come back later to give it a Like when my reactions recharge.

[kerry]

1 hour ago, Wannatripbaby said:

Well that was... very different. Really this could've been expanded into its own entity rather than a Keeperverse story. Perhaps even should've been? I mean, in all the others the Bond had some kind of significance to the plot. Whereas in this one it was basically used as a deus ex machina to solve the conflict established in the first 3/4 of the chapter. It's really a bit of an anti-climax in my opinion. All that story potential squandered just so this could fit into your FAFOP anthology...

That being said this was a great chapter and I'll have to come back later to give it a Like when my reactions recharge.

Thanks as always for your comments, Trip.

In my original concept for this chapter, Aisling died from her injuries shortly after bonding, leaving both Ryan and Wade bereft. (a double twist.) As the chapter grew, though, Ryan became such a selfish prick that I didn't want to deal with him in a later chapter, and Aisling was so interesting that I couldn't kill her off. Other than Jim, she's the first character here I really want to come back to, though I've brought back others. In any case, I didn't intend it to be a deus ex machina, just the twist this chapter had. Still, I guess in the Keeperverse the Bond is always a kind of deus ex machina, coming from nowhere and changing everything. The intention was to bring her from unwilling caregiver to this universe's equivalent of sub/Little. She'll also go from a relationship in which all of the sexual energy was focused on her husband to one in which it is focused on her. Ryan isn't, IMO, really a Little at all; he wants too much control over the scene. It's all a game to him, and it's all sexual. He's a DL pure and simple. The bottle is only an affectation. Anyway I'm glad you liked it!

[CDfm]

Well now that was different.  Ryan’s selfishness cost him his wife. I wonder how much he is going to enjoy his next diaper. Something that dramatic could cause suicidal thoughts in a person.