School uniforms had always pissed Sammy off. Especially in high school; the girls’ uniform had required them to wear a fitted blouse, a cardigan, and a blazer in addition to the stuffy ankle length pleated skirt. Opaque black tights as well, as if the skirt wasn’t enough to cover their legs. She’d even had to learn to polish the regulation black leather shoes during a lunchtime detention, having been scolded for letting them get scuffed.

Yet despite her past disdain, at the age of twenty-four and working as a receptionist for Buchanan Life Insurance, she wished they would just tell her what to fucking wear. ‘Business casual’ was the only instruction she received during her orientation. Her only idea of what such clothing would entail came from movies and television, and she knew her wardrobe full of jeans, leggings, and hoodies certainly wouldn’t have fit the description. So, she had stocked her shelves with copies and slight variations of the outfit she wore for the interview, and to this day still hadn’t managed to update her look.

Sammy thought about getting new clothes every morning, standing in front of her wardrobe and flicking through the hangers while blearily sipping a cup of instant coffee. And like every other morning, she picked out a random blouse and skirt before promptly forgetting about buying new ones. Then it was time for a quick shower, cleaning her teeth, throwing on the uninspired outfit of the day, and rushing out the door to catch the 08:13 train.

Today had been an incredibly uneventful Wednesday so far, just like every other day since starting this job. The last time anything even remotely exciting occurred was last month—her five year anniversary at the company. Her boss had brought her a cupcake to celebrate. She’d smiled, played the role of the friendly employee who was oh so happy to devote her time to such a wonderful company, then had a minor breakdown in the staff bathroom on her break. Five years since dropping out of university. Five years since she’d given up on having an exciting life. The only plus side to such a boring life was the consistency. She told herself that a lot. Every now and then, if she’d had enough wine, she’d actually start to believe it.

Stepping off the packed train and making her way through the station, she stopped at her regular café for a second cup of coffee. Mornings were not good for Sammy, and the overload of caffeine was a necessity for her if she wanted to get any work done before midday. Coffee in hand, she entered the lobby, said good morning to the friendly janitor, and sat down at the reception desk to slog through the overnight emails.

Not five minutes had passed before a distraction presented itself. Or herself, in this case. A stunningly tall, svelte woman with smooth shoulder-length auburn hair, a sharp black tailored suit, and a slightly uncertain look on her face. The woman’s expression shifted as she approached the reception desk, confidence overtaking nervousness as she stepped forward and locked eyes with Sammy.

“Good morning, you are Samantha, yes? Samantha Nichols?”

Huh? Did she know this person? Ah shit, maybe someone she met in her first — and only — semester at university, perhaps. But surely she’d remember her, even a little.

“Yes, that’s me… Um, sorry, but do I know you?”

“I would assume so; my name is Lydia Ballard.”

There was an expectant look on her face now, as if the name should mean something to Sammy. “I’m sorry, I don’t… um, not to be rude, but I have no idea who you are…”

The woman—Lydia—raised an eyebrow in response and rolled up the sleeve of her right arm. Presenting it to Sammy, she could now read the text written along her inner forearm in stark black lettering: Owner of Samantha Nichols.

Sammy’s heart skipped a beat. That… was definitely her name. The mark certainly looked real; the line work was immaculate, sharper than a tattoo, and a deeper black than any she’d seen. It had to be a soul mark, and that was her name, but she hadn’t received a mark… had she? It’s not like she never looked at her body, so unless the mark was on her back… oh shit.

Lydia’s hard expression was rapidly turning to one of concern as she watched the emotions play out on Sammy’s face.

“Did you… did you not know? The mark showed up on Monday, I just assumed you would have seen it and I wanted to give you some time, are you— fuck, shit, are you okay?”

“…Could you look at my back, please?”

Sammy didn’t know what else to do. First step: confirm if this was actually real. Second step: god fucking knows. Lydia nodded and pulled out her phone, which Sammy took as her cue to unbutton her shirt—

“Wait, we should maybe not do this out here…” Lydia interrupted her before she managed to strip in the lobby of her work, glancing back to see the janitor giving her an odd look.

“Oh, yes, um, follow me, the bathroom’s this way.”

Leading them to the bathroom, Sammy finally processed the rest of what she had read on Lydia’s arm. ‘Owner of…’ Sammy had all but given up on her ever getting a soulmark, and the universe decided to stick her with an ownership mark? And… her soulmate was a woman? For some reason her thoughts latched onto that instead. Perhaps it was easier to process.

Back when she had dated in high school, she had only ever been with men. The sex was awful, none of the brief relationships had lasted, and she’d eventually stopped dating completely after dropping out of university, but she’d never been with a woman before. Did this make her a lesbian? Bisexual, maybe?

Questioning her sexuality distracted Sammy long enough to make it to the bathroom without panicking. Closing the door behind them, Lydia pulled her phone back out and opened the camera.

“Go ahead, I’ll take a photo to show you, if it’s there.”

Continuing to unbutton her shirt, Sammy noticed how drastic the height difference was between the two. Lydia had to be six feet tall at least, and could probably rest her head on Sammy’s without stretching. She also noticed her eyes, pale blue with flecks of brown, looking down at her with surprising softness. It finally occurred to her that she was stripping in front of someone—who was apparently her soulmate, and owner—while staring into her eyes. She felt the blush blooming in her cheeks and spun around, dropping the shirt to her elbows in the process.

She heard the slight intake of breath from Lydia, the click of her phone taking a picture. That pretty much confirmed it, then. Sammy was scared to turn back around. Scared to see the proof. But she couldn’t stop herself, she had to know. Pulling the shirt back onto her shoulders, she turned to look at the photo Lydia had taken.

There, between her shoulder blades, were the words: Property & Pet of Lydia Ballard.

My life is over. Fuck

As the knowledge truly sunk in, she calmly stepped towards the toilet before emptying the contents of her stomach into the bowl. Lydia was there in a flash, pulling her wavy brown hair away from her face and into a ponytail behind her head, all while gently stroking her back. It was weirdly comforting, Sammy realised, being pet like that. Being pet…

Another heave wracked her body, and soon after she was being supported by Lydia, wiping her mouth and face with a tissue before flushing her sick down the toilet. When it was clear there was nothing more to come, she lifted Sammy up and buttoned her shirt, before taking her to the sink to rinse her mouth.

“Hah, sorry about that. This is, um, a lot,” Sammy said, once the taste of bile was gone. Her voice was oddly calm. Was she in shock? Yes, probably.

“You don’t need to apologise, Samantha. I’m sorry to have sprung this on you, I truly thought you would have known,” Lydia kept a hand around Sammy’s shoulder as they left the bathroom, returning to the reception to find her boss standing at the desk, looking frustrated.

“Samantha, where were you? You cannot simply leave—”

“My apologies, sir, but I will be taking Samantha with me. We have much to discuss,” before he had time to reply, Lydia had her sleeve pulled up again and the photo of Sammy’s back open on her phone. Sammy watched as her boss’s eyes widened, flicking between Lydia’s arm and her phone, then to Sammy’s face.

“Oh, I see… Erm, take the day, Samantha, I-I’ll begin the paperwork…”

Her boss looked uncomfortable, glancing at the arm wrapped possessively around her shoulder and the tall woman staring down at him. Sammy knew him to be a bit of a misogynistic prick, and he’d certainly flirted at her a number of times in the past. She would have found it funny in other circumstances, seeing him cowering, intimidated by a powerful woman. She instead muttered a quick thanks, then let Lydia guide her out of the building after retrieving her own bag from beneath the reception desk.

They didn’t go far. Lydia directed her to an upscale bistro down the street from her work, a place Sammy had walked past but never visited. Lydia sat her at a table by the window, leaving her to look at the menu while she got them both glasses of water. Like she expected, the place was fancy and the meals expensive. She was gawking at the thirty dollar Eggs Benedict when Lydia placed a glass in front of her.

“Here, drink. If you’re hungry, we can order breakfast as well,” Lydia took the seat across from her, and waited until she drank her water to continue. “Are you feeling okay, Samantha?”

Was she feeling okay? Surprisingly, she at least wasn’t feeling bad. The vomiting had been an almost visceral reaction, and now she was just left feeling sort of… numb.

“I’m dealing with it. I think. I kind of feel… nothing. I know I should be freaking out or something, but—to be honest, I don’t think it’s really sinking in yet? I don’t know, this just doesn’t feel real.” Now that she noticed it, she almost felt like she was in a dream. Like it was all behind a wall of fog, and she was just watching it play out before her. “Oh, you can call me Sammy by the way.”

“Sammy, look at me.” Lydia’s voice was stern, it reminded her of an English teacher she’d had in year eleven. That teacher had been nice to Sammy, though, even when she was being strict. She had just wanted Sammy to pay attention, focus on her—

“Sammy.” Lydia grabbed her by the chin, tilting her head up to meet her eyes. Her eyes were quite nice, really.

“Huh?”

“Sammy, you look like you’re dissociating. Listen to me, breathe with me, okay?”

Oh, was that what was happening? Lydia took both her hands, squeezing them tight and pressing her thumbs into Sammy’s palms. “Breathe in, hold it, now breathe out. In, hold it, out. Focus on your hands, feel how I’m squeezing them? pay attention to that feeling, and breathe. In again, keep holding it, and out. Good girl.”

The world was slowly coming back into focus, and Sammy remembered a few grounding techniques a therapist had taught her, back when she had free sessions from the university. Five round objects I can see…

Bit by bit, she came back to herself. And with that clarity came the realisation of the situation she was in. She had received a soul mark, one that designated her as a pet. She was owned, by a woman, who was actively guiding her through grounding techniques while she was dissociating in a fancy French bistro.

“Fucking hell…”

“Sammy? How are you feeling?”

“Um, overwhelmed. My head’s clearing up, at least. Wow. This is a lot.”

“Do you think you’re feeling up to talking about this now? If it’s too much I can give you some time, but we have to have this conversation eventually.”

“Talking about… Oh, right. Yeah. The whole, ‘you own me now,’ thing. Um, we can do it now, I guess?”

Lydia shook her head, her voice taking on a firm tone. “That’s not good enough, Sammy, yes or no. Are you comfortable talking about this now? I need a proper answer.”

Sammy felt truly small under Lydia’s gaze. She had an energy about her, the way she talked, how her body shifted to match the authority behind her words. It instinctively made Sammy curl up a little, made her want to apologise.

“I-I’m sorry. Um. Yes, let’s do it now. I feel alright, I’d rather not delay…”

Lydia relaxed a bit, leaning back in her chair and sipping her water before speaking. “Alright. I don’t want to rush this, honestly I’m new to this whole thing as well. But first, some rules. I need you to be honest with me, if I ask you a question, you answer it truthfully. Be respectful as well, no yelling or talking back. If I tell you to do something, you do it, without questioning it or giving me attitude. Do you understand me so far? Yes or no.”

This was really happening, then. Honestly, so far everything she had said made sense. That didn’t mean Sammy was happy about it, but she at least understood it. For now, there didn’t seem to be any point in arguing. She could save that for later.

“Yes, I understand.”

“Good. To make this clear, I do not want a slave or a servant, you will be my pet. You will belong to me, and you will follow my orders, but I still expect you to be somewhat independent at times. If you have complaints then you will bring them to me, and I will consider them. Though remember, my decision is final. I may punish you for breaking rules if I deem it necessary, whether by revoking privileges or with more… physical… methods. And lastly for now, from this point on you will address me as miss Lydia, or simply miss. Do you understand?”

“Um, yes… m-miss Lydia...” Sammy felt her cheeks burning. She was finally starting to feel the embarrassment, the humiliation. She felt… weak. Small. She just wanted to hide, curl up into a ball, and before she knew it, she was crying. All the things Lydia had just said, the weight of her words truly hit her. The rules she had laid out were now facts of her life. Yes, there was still paperwork that needed to be filled out, and for the moment she was technically still a free person, but that all felt secondary to Sammy. She could almost feel the words written on her back, the will of the universe burned into her very body that declared her place in the world. It didn’t matter if the government hadn’t legally recognised it yet. Life had already decided that she was less, that she was a thing to be owned. It was cathartic, in a way, to know such an intrinsic truth about herself. But so, so very painful.

Lydia had moved next to her at some point. She had pulled Sammy into a hug, one arm wrapped around her waist and the other brushing fingers through her hair, supporting her while she wept. It made Sammy feel even smaller, but it was also incredibly comforting. Some small part of her mind argued she shouldn’t be accepting this kindness from the person responsible for making her feel this way. But really, what could she do? Screaming, fighting, running away, none of it would do anything. It was easier to just… give up.

Lydia stroked her back as she whispered, “it’s okay, Sammy, I know this is a lot. I know we just met, I know this is sudden, if you need a break just tell me, okay? This is a big change, but we can take it slow if you need to. Shhh, it’s going to be okay. We can stop with the serious stuff for now. How about we have something to eat and just get to know each other, hmm? Do you think you can do that for me?”

It took Sammy a moment, but she managed a weak nod between sobs. Lydia held her there, waited until the tears stopped before releasing her. When Sammy had composed herself and blown her nose, she spoke again.

“Sorry, I think it all hit me at once and… yeah, kinda overwhelmed me, I guess.”

“You don’t need to apologise, Sammy, I should have taken it slower. God, I just—” Lydia stopped herself, conflicted emotions playing out across her face. Eventually she slumped forward with her head in her hands. “Fuck. Can I be honest, Sammy? I don’t know what I’m doing. I read all these articles and books about how this is ‘supposed to work,’ how I’m supposed to ‘establish my authority,’ but… it just feels weird, you know?

“I mean, I prepared a fucking speech! Sure, rules are important, but Jesus, it feels so awkward to be ordering you around when I don’t even know you!” Lydia leaned over the table, taking one of Sammy’s hands in hers, idly drawing patterns with her thumbs. “We’re supposed to be soulmates, but I just feel like an asshole. I mean, I made you throw up! And then I made you fucking cry! I… Do you think we could start over?”

Emotional whiplash is how Sammy would describe it, swinging from a sense of resigned apathy to… hope? No, more like… it felt more real. Where everything before had felt like a dream of sorts, seeing Lydia being vulnerable and honest, it was humanising. Lydia was still treating her like a person, even when she had every right to simply force her to comply. If she wished, she could have leashed Sammy and dragged her kicking and screaming through the streets. The police would be on Lydia’s side, at most asking her to gag Sammy if her screams were disturbing the peace.

Sammy met Lydia’s eyes and, for the first time, actually looked at her. The way her brows were creased and she was biting her lower lip, how her cheekbones framed her face and her eyes flicked back and forth, the slight blush on her cheeks. She was… pretty.

That thought, coupled with the knowledge that Lydia was her soulmate—that she would spend the rest of her life with another woman—recontextualised a whole lot of her memories. All those times in high school where she had thought she was jealous of the other girls and their looks, how easily they got boyfriends, had she actually been attracted to them? The boys she’d dated had been fine, she’d liked them, but it had always felt a bit awkward when they would kiss or fuck. She’d simply thought that meant they weren’t compatible, so she would call it off and hope that the next one would feel ‘right.’ Shit, maybe she was a lesbian…

“…Sammy? I’m really sorry, if you need some time—”

“Oh! No, I was just… distracted, sorry… um, yeah, I’d love to talk. Get to know each other a bit more, I guess?”

A weight seemed to lift from Lydia’s shoulders and she sat up straighter, a grin taking over her face.

“Yes! So tell me…”

They launched into casual conversation, asking each other questions about their lives, what they did for fun, how sick of her job Sammy was getting and the heavy workload Lydia had been suffering with until recently. She worked from home as a video editor, and she told Sammy somewhat sheepishly that the pant suit she was wearing was brand new, specifically bought to make a good impression on her. She’d imagined it wouldn’t be a good look to show up in sweatpants and a hoodie if she was trying to look well put together. Sammy told Lydia about her own distaste of her work attire, how she wished she could just wear flowy dresses, or shorts and a T-shirt, instead of the restrictive skirts and form fitting blouses that was expected of her.

They discovered a shared interest in the TV shows they watched, and that they both liked the same types of foods. Sammy hated seafood and Lydia was allergic, and neither of them were particularly fond of red meat. They even realised they lived close to each other; Lydia had even caught the same train as Sammy to come in to the city.

An hour or two passed before Lydia brought the conversation back to more serious matters. “I think we should head home soon, we have some paperwork to do and I’d like to get at least some of your things moved over to mine this afternoon.”

Of course, Sammy hadn’t put any thought into it yet, but she wouldn’t be allowed to have her own apartment anymore, would she? It was another shock, but really, she hated the place. Her lease wouldn’t have ended for another four months, having a valid reason to terminate the contract early was almost a blessing.

“Honestly I don’t have much stuff, we could probably get it all over today, I think?”

“…Really? You’re okay with just… moving in right away?”

Sammy paused. She hadn’t even put any thought into it, but she really did feel fine about leaving her old place. Not just that, she felt fine about moving in with Lydia despite only knowing her for a scant few hours. The more she thought about it, the more right it felt. Lydia was her soulmate, ergo, they should live together, no? She didn’t see the point in delaying it now that she had accepted it.

“Yeah, I… um, yes miss, I’m sure.” Figuring she’d have to get used to Lydia’s rules whether she wanted to or not, Sammy decided to use the honorific. It didn’t make her feel awful like it had the first time, though it was still a little embarrassing. For Lydia’s reaction, though, it was worth it. She lit up immediately and leaned forward, her superior height causing her to look down on Sammy from above.

“Alright then, pet,” Lydia said with a smirk. Sammy blushed. Oh god, was it possible to have a crush on your soulmate? Lydia’s gaze made her feel small, but unlike before she could feel her heart beating out of her chest. Sammy averted her gaze, for some reason feeling shy about Lydia seeing her this way.

It was a surprise to her, then, when Lydia reached out and grabbed her chin, not letting her look away. In startled response and to her utter embarrassment, Sammy squeaked. Her cheeks were burning.

“Are you okay with this, Sammy?” Lydia whispered, a note of sincerity touching her words. Even now, when it would have been so easy for her to take what she wanted, she was checking to make sure Sammy was comfortable. It made her realise she wanted Lydia to push her, to take without asking first.

“Yes, miss.”

Lydia smiled and pulled Sammy’s face closer to her own. “I’m going to kiss you now.”

Kissing had never felt so right. Not only physically—Lydia’s lips were so soft, the hand on her cheek gentle and possessive—but emotionally, too. Fireworks lit her nerves, and a warmth bloomed in her chest. When Lydia released her, she couldn’t help but whimper.

“Sammy, you have no idea how fucking adorable you look right now.”

When the two left shortly after to catch the midday train, Sammy thought back on the morning. When she had seen the mark on her back, she’d believed her life was over. In a way, she had been right. The colourless days, always the same and always dull, were over. But with Lydia’s hand in hers, the butterflies in her stomach, and the unabashed grin on her face as she was walked to the station, she was more than happy to leave that life behind.

She was still anxious and unsure of what was to come. The reality that she was now property was hard to understand and harder, still, to accept. For now, it was enough to know that she wouldn’t have to figure it out alone.