Irene couldn’t help but wonder if she’d backed herself into a corner. Then again, she couldn’t imagine a situation in which Curbita allowed her to leave behind any of the goods she’d taken from the grocery. As such, she was kind of against the wall on this one. At the very least she’d managed to put her foot down when the affini woman had once again suggested that she simply take up residency in one of the available hab units. In all honesty, Irene hadn’t even been entirely certain why she’d said no. If she had to guess, things had just become too real in that moment. All of her doubts which had been temporarily stifled by the frankly awe-inspiring sights of an affini run city had come rushing back up. Perhaps part of her was simply saying no just to be certain she still could.

What had been even more difficult, though, was standing her ground when Curbita commented that, if Irene wanted, there was also plenty of room in her own hab unit. The comment left little up to suggestion, Irene wasn’t dense enough to not notice the plant had spent the better part of their time together flirting with her. This, however, was something else entirely. She’d needed to remind herself, between blushes and stammers, that just because this was the sort of thing she fantasized about didn’t mean she wanted it to be her entire lifestyle. Irene valued the control she had over her life, didn’t she? As much as she struggled at times, it was her own choices that had kept her mostly out of trouble in a world full of just that. Letting her imagination get a bit indulgent about her more kinky desires was one thing, but surrendering herself over to become someone’s pet? To become owned entirely? Irene forced herself to deny wanting it even as another part of her screamed yes. 

Besides, becoming a pet was an unknown. She had a somewhat good idea of what she could expect as an independent citizen of the Terran Protectorate. She could live her life as she wanted without the crushing burden of capitalism. The life of a pet was something she could only guess at, and who knew what sort of liberties an affini, even a kind one like Curbita, might feel entitled to take on the sort of person who would willingly sign themselves up to be a pet. Irene had tried to ignore the part of her which told her someone taking liberties with her mind and body sounded kind of hot. Either way, becoming someone’s pet was just another way she would lose choice over the direction of her own life. The affini were doing enough of that simply by conquering the world. Irene at least wanted to have some say in that. Or, at least, that’s what some stubborn, scared part of her had told her. 

As such, when Curbita offered to take her back to her own hab, Irene had rebuffed her. Of course, like an utter fool, she’d felt the need to come up with a reason, because apparently ‘I don’t want to be your pet’ wasn’t a good enough one—possibly because Irene wasn’t even certain it was true. As such, she’d instead cooked up some lie about needing to live in her current apartment building because she actually had a neighbor who was a sweet old man that needed someone to look after him. Curbita being Curbita, of course, had simply suggested they revisit the matter when the affini finally managed to take over her district then. 

It was around then, that Curbita declared it was about time for her to help Irene get home, and set off confidently, not even bothering to be certain Irene was following—she was, of course. A few minutes later, Curbita led Irene into what appeared to be some sort of large garage, only, like everything the affini built, incredibly over the top and well decorated. She strolled right up to some kind of small craft made from a glass-like substance wrapped in vines and giant floral wing-like formations. As she approached, a hatch in the back of the craft opened up, and Curbita began to unload Irene’s bags inside. 

By this point, Irene couldn’t hold back her questions. “Curbita, what are you doing?” She blurted. 

Giving a cursory glance over her shoulder, Curbita gave a soothing smile, and answered. “Well dear, obviously there’s no way you can carry all these bags. And even if you could, I can’t risk having you walk past those awful ‘free Duri’ radicals again. They might try to hurt you! I’ll be taking you home in this aircar. I already filled out the requisition for it while we were in the grocer, just in case.”

For a moment, Irene considered trying to protest, but quickly realized that there was no way Curbita was changing her mind on this. Honestly, she was beginning to suspect she’d pushed her luck quite a bit already. How many affini would even permit her to return to the harsh realities of capitalism at all? Wouldn’t forcing her to stay be ‘for her own good?’ Could Irene even deny the truth to that notion if Crubita forced her hand? Apparently she didn’t need to regardless, as Curbita has allowed her this indulgence. She felt guilty, almost; surely Curbita would worry herself sick over Irene’s wellbeing once they parted ways. Surely she was putting herself in unnecessary danger just for her own pride and agency. 

Either way, Curbita was her regular cheery self as she finished loading the bags into the aircar, and strolled to the front side. Automatically, the car’s main body opened up on what appeared to be a hinge running the length of its capsule-like cockpit. Silently, Irene followed the affini, who turned around and scooped her up in her arms to safely deposit Irene inside one of the two seats. She hardly even squirmed. “Sorry dear,” Curbita explained as she climbed into after Irene, “it’s just an awfully high step for someone your size. Better for your safety that I handle it.” 

Before Irene really had time to even properly settle into her seat, Curbita flicked a switch, and their transport came to life, lifting about forty feet into the air with a quiet, soothing hum from the engines. Curbita cast a quick glance toward Irene, “comfy?” she asked. Actually, she really was. The seat was incredibly soft and seemed to mold itself to her shape perfectly. Irene gave a little nod, and Crubita pressed forward on the throttle, taking them forward at a relatively slow—for a flight-capable vehicle—speed. “Irene dear, would you mind setting the navigation system to guide me to your home?” Curbita asked. As she spoke, a little holo-display flickered to life in front of Irene, displaying a local map. Wordlessly, she tapped their destination, and watched the map flash a pleasing green color. 

“Good girl!” Cheered a pre-recorded affini voice from the aircar’s speaker. 

“Oh, I’m sorry Irene. I think the onboard computer mistook us for a floret and owner pair and is defaulting to its presets for floret interaction.” The explanation did little to calm Irene’s furious blush. 

It wasn’t long before the aircar drew close to the border; as the transparent barrier separating the parts of the city, Irene felt as though she weren't simply about to cross between two city blocks, but from one planet to a wholly different one, a far worse one. In the distance, Irene could glimpse the anti-affini mob; she felt herself grow tense. The crowd had grown larger while she was away, and as she drew closer she could see a myriad of signs specifically about ‘traitors.’ It felt like they’d been made specifically for her. 

Her breath caught in her throat. These people hated her; they hated Curbita. They would kill her without a second thought if they thought they could get away with it. And here she was flying right toward them. How many rebels were in that crowd. How many of them were armed, what if they tried to shoot her and Curbita down? Would they be able to recognize her from down there? Track her down in the night and—”Darling, calm down. They can’t hurt you,” Curbita soothed. Delicately, Curbita took Irene’s hand in hers, running her thumb along her knuckles soothingly as she gently shushed the girl. Irene’s body responded immediately to the command, her heart rate lowering, muscles relaxing, frightened thoughts easily banished by the comfort of Curbita’s reassurance. “This hull could withstand a full force bombardment of your pesky little Terran coil-artillery and come out the other end good as new.” Reflexively, Irene found herself leaning in closer to Curbita for comfort, putting her weight against the affini’s torso and taking slow breaths. “There’s a good girl,” Curbita cooed; Irene whimpered.  

The sounds of shouting were drawing closer now; they were saying such horrible things. Irene shut her eyes tight and wrapped an arm around Curbita’s, pulling herself closer. A soft click sounded inside the car, and suddenly the sound faded, becoming muffled and unintelligible. Irene could almost tune them out entirely with the soft hum of the motor. Suddenly, a cachunk sounded through the car. Irene yelped aloud, shutting her eyes even tighter and collapsing into Curbita’s embrace. Soothingly, her hand began to run through Irene’s hair as the affini lowered Irene down into her lap. “It’s alright, hush now. I told you, they can’t hurt you. That wasn’t even them, dearest. That was me engaging the active camouflage. The projector must have caught on something as it was deploying, that’s all.” Keeping her eyes shut, Irene nodded, letting herself relax into the comfort Curbita was providing. “They won’t even see us passing overhead now. I’ll get you home safe and cook you something nice to eat, okay?” 

“That sounds nice,” Irene murmured. That seemed to please Curbita, earning Irene another gentle stroke of her hair. 

For the rest of the brief trip, Irene kept her eyes shut, lying in Curbita’s lap. Eventually, their aircar touched down on solid ground. A quiet hissing sound indicated the cockpit swinging open, and suddenly Irene was being swept into Curbita’s arms as the affini disembarked, carrying Irene along with her. Slowly, Irene was lowered to the ground, Curbita ensuring she had her footing before properly letting go; Irene did her best to pretend she wasn’t disappointed. Opening her eyes, she looked around to see that Curbita had landed atop her building’s roof, one of the few actually nice features of the place. The view was quite nice from up there, but now when Irene looked out at the city she saw only the start reminder of how much worse things were on the ‘free’ side of the city. 

“Irene dearest, can you lead us to your hab now?” Curbita’s voice immediately commanded Irene’s full attention. She gave an enthusiastic nod, and didn’t think twice about the fact that she was still holding her affini’s hand. Leading Curbita into the building, she unlocked the door back inside, and quickly realized that they should probably take the stairs instead of squeezing into the elevator. 

Two floors down, Irene led Curbita down the hall to her unit, opened the door, and suddenly realized that she was about to reveal what a fucking mess her place was. “I um, sorry, it’s kind of a disaster in there right now,” she hurriedly explained as the door swung open. As Irene took her first few tentative steps into her apartment, she realized just how badly she’d been neglecting keeping the place livable. The main walkway was strewn with wrappers and packaging, the garbage was overflowing, the floor hadn’t been properly swept in over a month. Her kitchen counters were stained, covered in food scraps and empty containers; her sink was full of dirty dishes. There was no way her fridge had enough room for the groceries in general, but currently it was also full of expired food she’d neglected to eat. A disaster was an understatement.

Slowly, Curbita followed along behind her, stooping a little to fit inside the room which was clearly not sized for her, she calmly took in the state of Irene’s home. Quietly, she brushed past Irene, setting the grocery bags down off to the side of the main hallway, and entered the main room. Sheepishly, Irene followed behind her, picking past scattered trash she’d never bothered to pick up. When she reached Curbita, the affini gave her a concerned look. “Little one, did something happen? Surely you don’t—forgive me for sounding insensitive—but surely this isn’t how you live.” Her tone seemed free of judgment, but Irene simply didn’t believe that. How could someone so larger than life, so perfect and competent look around at everything she saw and not judge Irene for being so… useless. 

Shame burned from her cheeks into her core as Irene stared downward at her feet; her eyes were starting to sting, hands starting to tremble. “I’m sorry,” she whimpered. “I don’t want to be this way but I just can’t. I don’t have it in me to even clean up after myself. Every day I tell myself I’ll do something productive but every day I just don’t. I just fixate on meaningless things out of my control and I—” 

Curbita’s arms were around her, pressing Irene close into the affini’s body and stroking her head. “Hey now, it’s alright. You don’t have to explain yourself. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Irene; like I said, some people need more help than others. So how about you go sit on that nice, cozy looking bed of yours and relax while I clean up a bit and get started on some food for you?” Denying it was useless; Curbita was treating Irene like a pet. The thing was, Irene liked it. She was just glad Curbita couldn’t know how many night’s she’d spent watching affini broadcasts or fantasizing about being owned. 

At the very least, Irene could take solace in the fact that Curbita wasn’t likely to have a reason to snoop on Irene’s computer, otherwise she might come across Irene’s extensive collection of petplay art and erotica. For some stupid, obvious reason, though, the thought of the affini woman coming across that and gently, condescendingly, but assertively and suggestively confronting her over it made Irene go weak in the knees. That was fine, though, as Curbita was ready to catch her; her affini crossed the room in a few strides, then deposited Irene into bed. With a soft smile, she placed a doting kiss on Irene’s forehead. “Be a good girl for me and sit right here and relax while I take care of you, okay little one?” As she spoke, Curbita held Irene’s face in her hands, looking deep into the girl’s eyes. 

Curbita wasn’t saying just anything, though; she’d given Irene a command. Irene wanted to obey. So many times she’d imagined herself being told what to do, being controlled, by someone who knew what was best for her. Could she even deny it at this point? She wasn’t fit to take care of herself. A simple question from Curbita had been enough to cause Irene to break down into tears and she honestly thought she was good enough to take care of herself? 

Apparently seeing the girl’s distress, Curbita stroked Irene’s cheek. “None of that, now,” she purred. Irene nodded, keeping her mouth shut, afraid of what might escape her lips were she to answer verbally. “Good girl,” Curbita sang. Without another word, the affini turned, and strode back to clean Irene’s tiny kitchen, leaving the girl with a few stray vines to cuddle while she watched from across the apartment.