“I’m sorry, I kind of went overboard with preparing everything… You don’t need to sleep in there…”

“No it’s fine! It looks pretty comfy if I’m honest,” Sammy said, looking at the cage Lydia had set up in her bedroom. And really, it did look comfortable, with soft bedding, string lights, and a blanket over the top to offer some privacy. It was huge too, big enough she’d be able to lie down in it without touching either end.

Lydia still looked embarrassed, though.

“Yeah, well… I don’t know, I think I’m just second-guessing myself about all of this.” Lydia led Sammy out of the bedroom and back into the main room of her apartment, taking a seat on the sofa and patting the spot next to her. “C’mere. I want to keep talking.”

“Of course. Anything in particular?” Sammy sat and pulled her legs up under her, a habit she’d had since her youth—her legs got restless otherwise. Lydia gave Sammy’s thigh a pat, staring off into space for a moment.

“I guess, maybe a personal question? Have you ever done… this sort of stuff? Kink, or BDSM, I mean.”

“Oh,” Sammy paused. Certainly not the question she had been expecting. “No, not really. I had a couple of sort-of-boyfriends, but it never went anywhere. Didn’t ever get far enough, I suppose.”

“‘Boyfriends?’ Have you never dated women before?”

“Never even kissed another girl until today,” Sammy confessed.

“Oh my god, did you— please tell me you knew you were into women before today, Sammy.”

Wow, she had almost forgotten about that. “Uhh…”

Lydia looked panicked. She took Sammy’s hand in hers before letting go and standing to pace in front of her, mumbling to herself, “Jesus, why did I listen to those fucking blog posts, bunch of fucking keyboard experts, of course this wasn’t the right way to do this, god…” She dropped back onto the sofa with her head in her hands before looking back at Sammy. “I really fucked this up, I should’ve just introduced myself instead of doing the whole domineering thing right out the gate, I’m so sorry, Sammy—”

“Hey, hey! It’s okay, I’m fine, I promise.” She put a soothing hand on Lydia’s shoulder and gave a reassuring squeeze. “You didn’t fuck up, I mean it. Sure I’m new to all of this, but I wouldn’t have this mark if it wasn’t for me, right?” She said, gesturing to her back. “Things are going remarkably well, all things considered. Hell, I’m sitting here and reassuring you that this is fine. If you had messed up, wouldn’t I be… I don’t know, trying to run away, or cursing you out, or something? If this was one of those Master/pet movies I would be half way across the country by now.”

With visible effort, Lydia pulled herself together before looking over at Sammy questioningly.

“Wait, you’ve watched those movies? They’re terrible, Sammy. Like, the worst possible introduction to these sorts of relationships. I swear, the writers of those movies have no concept of how to communicate with a partner, they just write the most toxic, awful characters and…” She paused, “sorry, I’m getting distracted.”

After a moment to compose herself, Lydia took Sammy’s hand again. “Thanks, Sammy. But you have to admit, this isn’t the best way to learn that you aren’t straight.”

“Well, is there even a best way to figure that out? I think I’m doing pretty well— hold on, this is irrelevant, I’m trying to reassure you here, Lyd—” Sammy caught herself, “miss. Sure, I don’t know much about these kinds of relationships, but it seems like you do, right?”

Lydia nodded. “Yeah, that’s why I wanted to talk about this in the first place.” She started fidgeting with her coat sleeves. “I had a girlfriend. She introduced me to dominance and submission. I started learning about it for her, and that’s when I realised I liked being dominant. Never had much of a sex drive myself, but… it felt good, being in control.”

She sighed and leaned back, sinking down into the sofa cushions. Sammy could tell she had more to say, so she waited. It took Lydia a while to find the words, but Sammy wasn’t going to interrupt her thinking. This was important to her.

“I pushed too hard. I wanted more, and for a while she went with it. But I just kept going. Eventually, she snapped. Screamed at me, told me I was manipulating her. She stormed out, and I never heard from her again. The worst thing is, I don’t think she was wrong. I was so caught up in my own head, I didn’t pay enough attention to what I was actually doing. Made her do things she didn’t want to do because she didn’t want to do them. I had it in my head that, ‘that’s what a domme does,’ right?”

With another sigh, she slumped even further into the sofa. “And I enjoyed it, Sammy. I pushed, and I pushed, and I loved every second of it. I… I don’t know. I don’t want to do the same to you. Drive you away, make you hate me.”

Sammy didn’t know what to say. She wanted to reassure her, tell her it would be okay, but it felt empty, like the words would be hollow. So she did what felt right, instead. She wrapped Lydia in the biggest, tightest hug her small form could manage. Lydia froze at first, but after a moment she relaxed, pulling Sammy in close to her chest.

“I don’t think you’ll make me hate you, miss. I think you’re forgetting something important.”

“Hmm?”

“We’re soulmates, silly. Even if you make a mistake with me, we get to know we’re right for each other. I think it’ll be easier for us to work things out, knowing that.”

“That’s… a good point, Sammy, but… how are you taking this so well? I just told you how much of a sadist I am, and you hug me. You understand that, right? I enjoyed hurting her, Sammy. I loved her, and I loved seeing her hurt for me. Her tears, her desperation, I fucking loved it.”

“Well, maybe that means I’m a masochist. We’re each other’s complement, and we have the marks to prove it, miss. You wouldn’t have an ownership mark if you didn’t want that control, and I wouldn’t be your— your pet. Your property.”

She couldn’t be sure whether she was right—she was no soulmark philosopher, after all—but it made sense in Sammy’s mind. Why would two people with incompatible desires wind up being soulmates, especially when the marks they had were for such an intense relationship dynamic? Lydia wouldn’t be an owner if she didn’t desire that control over another person, and Sammy wouldn’t be both a pet and property if the inverse wasn’t true, either.

Lydia seemed to be putting some real thought into what Sammy had said. Eventually, after a good few minutes, she eased out of the hug and sat up, some confidence having returned to her face.

“Okay. You’re right, again. I’m doubting myself, getting in my own head about everything. Sammy, you have to promise me you’ll tell me if you can’t handle something, okay?”

“I will, miss. I promise.”

Lydia relaxed, and after a moment she flashed Sammy an almost predatory smirk. “Oh, and Sammy? Don’t think I missed that little slip-up before. You almost forgot to use my proper title, didn’t you?”

Sammy’s eyes widened. She started to apologise, but Lydia interrupted her with a chuckle. “Don’t worry about it, I’m not going to punish you.” She met Sammy’s eyes and added, “not this time.”

An unfamiliar feeling rose in Sammy’s chest. It was a confusing mix of excitement, fear, anticipation, a cocktail of contradictory feelings that made her heart beat faster. She had just told Lydia that she could do this, now she had to put that theory into practice. Either way, Lydia would own her on paper, but she was handing over that reality as well.

What surprised Sammy the most was how little it scared her.

Perhaps Lydia’s decision to stop and get to know her first was serving as a diving board, letting Sammy feel prepared and comfortable, instead of being shoved straight into the deep end. Now that she was set up to jump, her anxieties were eased by the knowledge before her. She wouldn’t be flailing blind, unsure which way was up and gasping for breath. She was ready, even if she didn’t yet know how deep the waters were.

“Thanks for this, miss. Talking with me like this, I mean. I think… I needed to connect with you as a person to accept that you’re going to own me. But I’m ready for it, now. You don’t have to hold back anymore.”

Looking at her, Sammy could see the want in Lydia’s eyes. There were still hints of her earlier hesitation, the lasting doubts and guilt couldn’t simply disappear just from one short conversation. But it was clear she knew this was right for her, even if she still didn’t fully believe it.

“You’re sure? I’ll give you one chance, Sammy. We can wait until tomorrow, if you need more time. But once we start, that’s it. I’ll listen to you if something is too much, but the decisions will be mine and mine alone.”

“I understand, miss. I don’t want to wait, I— I want this. I’m ready.”

Lydia stared deep into Sammy’s eyes, and seeing the unwavering resolution behind them, Lydia nodded and stood from the sofa. “Alright. Give me a few minutes, I’m going to get some things and just… get myself ready, too. Wait here.” Without delay, she turned and strode back into her bedroom, closing the door behind her.

Well, Sammy was in the water, now. There was some excitement to it, waiting for Lydia to return, and knowing that she was—in her own way—voluntarily doing this. She wasn’t fighting the current, nor letting the waves drag her down. Why fight what was inevitable? Deciding instead to go with the flow, to swim forward, gave her a sense of agency in a situation where she would otherwise have none.

Five minutes later the door swung open. Sammy’s heart leapt. The nervousness and excitement that had built in the wait for Lydia’s return sent adrenaline rushing through her veins.

Lydia’s appearance hadn’t changed much—she’d removed her suit jacket to reveal a button-up dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and her hair was now in a half-up ponytail—but there was a confidence in her step, in the way she held herself and moved through the room.

And, more pressingly, she had a collar in her hand.

Lydia snapped her fingers. “Stand up.”

Sammy stood up. Lydia walked past her and sat, grabbing a pillow on the way and placing it on the floor between her feet. She snapped again. “Kneel.”

Sammy knelt.

“Pets don’t use the furniture without permission. From now on, you sit or kneel on the floor unless I say otherwise. Understood?” There was iron in Lydia’s voice. In her commands. Sammy nodded and a hand was in her hair, pulling her head back painfully with Lydia’s gaze bearing into her. “Speak.”

“Y—yes, miss!” Lydia’s grip softened immediately and she started petting her head, her other hand cupping Sammy’s cheek.

“Good girl. You learn so quickly, don’t you? Such a good little pet,” Lydia said, with a condescending smile on her face. Sammy’s cheeks were burning with embarrassment, humiliation, and shameful pleasure. She couldn’t deny that the petting, the head scratches, Lydia’s touch felt good.

“But a pet needs a collar, wouldn’t you say? Lucky for you, I have one right here.” She picked the collar up from her lap and started swinging it around on her index finger. It was a relatively simple, if nicer-quality collar—thin satin-lined leather made it less bulky than its traditional counterparts, and it had a locking-tongue buckle instead of a quick-release clip. It also had a D-ring on its front with a tag hanging from it, reading ‘Samantha Nichols, property of Lydia Ballard.’ On the back were Lydia’s address and phone number.

“Of course, it wouldn’t be a very good collar if you could remove it yourself, now, would it? Imagine if you got lost, you might get mistaken for a normal person! We can’t have that.” With a wicked grin, Lydia wrapped the collar around Sammy’s neck and buckled it closed, snapping a small lock into the tongue loop. She flashed a key hanging from a necklace around her own neck. “That collar will be staying on unless I say so. Let me know if it feels too tight, okay?”

The embarrassment was only building as Lydia went on. But beneath that, beneath the humiliation and shame, was something else. She was turned on. Nobody else had ever made her feel horny before, and this was doing it for her? Shit, she really was a masochist. The humiliation and embarrassment still stung, still succeeded in making her feel small and weak. The wetness between her thighs was just as real, though. She shifted on her pillow, trying not to let it show.

“Um… yes, miss. It feels okay, miss.”

“Good. Now, up.” She snapped. “Come, I’ve got paperwork to do, and you’re going to kneel and wait next to me like a good little pet.”

She led Sammy over to the corner of her apartment where her desk was set up, snapping again and pointing at a pillow already placed next to her office chair. Again, Sammy knelt.

“Such an easy one to train, aren’t you?” Sammy tried not to squirm. Why did praise steeped in condescension do this to her? It was a mainline to her libido, and Lydia could tell it was working.

She didn’t acknowledge it, though. Instead, she brought out a stack of paperwork and, true to her word, started working through it while Sammy knelt. Occasionally she would reach out and pet her, or ask for information for one of the many forms that were sealing Sammy’s fate in ink. She gave over her bank details, her tax numbers, phone contracts. Anything Sammy owned or had signed for on paper, all her legal jurisdiction was being transferred to Lydia.

A half-hour later, the last form was complete. Lydia slid the forms into a clear sleeve and stood, snapping for Sammy to rise and follow her once more. “Alright, let’s head down to the Department office and get these submitted.”

Sammy only noticed when they reached the front door that Lydia had picked a leash out from her bag.

“Oh my god,” she whined, hiding her face in her hands while the blush on her cheeks grew to paint her whole face red.

“Something wrong, Sammy? Surely you didn’t expect to go for a walk without a leash, did you, pet?”

People were going to see her collared and leashed. They were going to stare at her. They would know she was a pet and owned and fuck why did that make her heart flutter so much? What if someone she knew saw her? What if someone lost it at her, tried to attack her? Lydia would protect her, right? Her thoughts were a mess.

“No, miss,” Sammy whispered. She pulled her hands away from her face and looked up at Lydia, trying to find reassurance. She was looking at her gently, she could see the turmoil going through Sammy’s mind, and she reached out and stroked her cheek.

“Don’t worry, Sammy. I’ll be with you the whole time. We’ll get you used to this before long, you’re already doing so well.”

Sammy pressed her face into Lydia’s hand, finding comfort in her touch. She nodded, and Lydia clipped the leash onto her collar and opened the front door.

“Come.”

No one was around to see Sammy yet, not until they left Lydia’s building and started down the street. Seeing someone for the first time, she hid herself behind Lydia and stared at the ground. After the third person walked past, she peeked out from behind Lydia’s back. By the tenth, she was walking by Lydia’s side. Her head was still down, but she risked a glance every now and then to see where they were, and if anyone was staring.

Eventually, she had raised her head—just a little—only looking down when she spotted someone looking at her. All the while, Lydia looked poised and confident. Sammy could see her hand holding the leash was tense, but that was the only indication of her owner’s nerves. To anyone else, she was the picture of a powerful woman.

Upon arriving at the soulbond office, Sammy almost burst out laughing. She had forgotten what they had called the place.

In a rather comical act of bureaucracy, the New Zealand government had decided to incorporate soulbond laws into the already established Births, Deaths, and Marriages branch of the Department of Internal Affairs. This meant the new branch was named Births, Deaths, Soulbonds, and Marriages. So now, in bold lettering above the entrance to their offices, was their acronym: BDSM.

Unfortunately, the comical nature extended only as far as the name. The actual processing of the paperwork was still as dull as any other government agency. After a short wait, they were shown to a room where their ID’s were checked and soulmarks verified.

“Alright, that’s all we need. You’ll get a letter in the mail in the next week or so with your certificate of ownership. You’ll want to hold on to this,” the clerk held out a stamped paper, “until that arrives. This is your temporary certificate, just in case you need to prove ownership before then. It’s only valid for a one month period though, fair warning.”

Throughout the entire interaction, Sammy had been almost entirely ignored. The clerk had shot her the occasional smile, but all the conversation had been aimed at Lydia. Even when she had needed to see Sammy’s soulmark, it had been a request directed to Lydia, not her.

She had told Sammy this was how it would be. Decisions weren’t hers to make, anymore. This was the first time she truly felt it. The dehumanisation of being completely ignored even though she was what they were discussing. Any agency she might have had was gone now, lost to her forever.

Sammy clung onto Lydia’s arm. She needed the support right now. Needed to know she was still real. She could do this. This wasn’t too much for her. But that didn’t stop the tears from welling up.

“Hey, I’m here. We’re alone. It’s just you and me, Sammy.”

Looking up, through her blurred vision she could see the clerk had left the room. Lydia was looking down at her again, concerned. Caring.

“Ah, sorry miss, I’m crying again,” she sniffled and gave a half-hearted laugh. “I’m okay.” Lydia handed her a tissue, letting her blow her nose before standing and pulling her into a hug. “I feel so… I am powerless, now. Officially. It’s a bit scary, is all.”

Lydia ran a hand through Sammy’s hair, gently pulling her head back to look into her eyes. “You don’t have to be powerful to be strong, Sammy. You said it yourself, we’re each other’s complement. If you’re powerless, then it’s my job to be powerful for you. I won’t let anyone else hurt you. Never.”

Sammy nodded. Lydia was right. She wasn’t losing everything, she was giving everything. She couldn’t take it back, and she could only trust that Lydia would be there for her.

“Come on, let’s get out of here. A friend of mine is picking us up, he’s helping us move your things. Are you ready to go?”

“Yes, miss.”

Forgoing the leash, Lydia instead took Sammy’s hand to lead them back out into the street. The world was the same as it had been before, the same trees lined the street, the same sun shone down on them. And yet, for whatever reason, Sammy found it just a bit easier to walk with her head held higher.