"Please make me utterly yours... take me away from here...."

I stiffened at Mika's words... was she trying to manipulate me, or had I just made her overdose on some sort of submission/attachment hypnosis trigger? I rolled off of her onto my back, and she whined softly, turning on her side to cuddle up against on my arm.

"Please, Phoebe... can't I at least choose who I belong to? I'll be your loyal slave... or I can dominate you if you want... whatever it is that you desire... I just can't stay here like this where they're going to get rid of me...."

I reached over to gently stroke her head, and she nuzzled into my hand hard.

I took a deep breath and tried to make my body relax. "Shhh.... no one's going to get rid of you, Mika."

"Please... I love you... I can't be without you... I belong to you...." Knowing that I had just made her imprint on me hard made me feel a mixture of attachment and ownership and nausea.

I pulled away from her, and she clung a little, but didn't fight too hard, just whimpering softly and hugging onto a pillow as I crawled away from her, opened the door, closed it behind me.

I needed some way out, this was untenable.

For a moment, I was tempted to look up that number, call them, ask for them to take me away from all of this uncertainty and brainwash me into whatever they wanted me to be. I couldn't be the person who Mika needed, and I had just fucked things up further.

A second, equally self-destructive urge surged in me to call my parents. But no. That was an even worse idea. They wouldn't fix anything, they wouldn't help with anything... they'd just make me feel like utter trash for failing.

I sat down on the floor next to the couch, realized what I was doing, and wanted to scream but Mika would hear me...and what if she came out and I didn't even know what to do.?

I pulled on a skirt and hoodie, grabbed the few things I had and shoved them into the duffel bag I had used to take them over, except my phone, which I stuffed in my pocket.

I opened the door and stepped out. I thought I saw someone I knew in the apartment building out of the corner of my eye, but I didn't wanna engage, and kept on staring at the floor as I walked past her, eyes tearing up.

Maybe they were callous, or in their own head, or realized I didn't want to interact right now, that it was all too much for me to handle.

I walked over to the library like ten blocks away, and went in, sat in front of an empty computer desk heavily without reserving it or logging in.

What the fuck was I doing? I couldn't even handle this, how was I going to handle being someone's pet? I was wasting Stephanie and Regina's time, and I had never really cared about Mika enough to rescue her, but I had still called myself her girlfriend. I was such a fucking hypocrite.

I wanted to slam my hand against the table again and again until it splintered, but I didn't-- partially because I realized it would be self-destructive, but mostly because I knew I just wasn't strong enough to do actual damage. Besides, I didn't want to be kicked out of the library, I didn't have anywhere else to go.

Maybe I should hitchhike to the border, and cross over, and then live as an illegal alien over there, maybe board a boat for work and not leave until I got to somewhere which didn't extradite pets, maybe get caught and sent back to my country, maybe get captured and sold on the black market....

I stared blankly at the screen, pondering infinite possibilities that mostly seemed to have dead ends, trying to look for one that made sense, one that would keep me safe.

Someone's phone was ringing, and I wished they answered it instead of just letting it ring loudly in the library like an asshole.

Wait... that was my phone. I was the asshole.

I picked it up and saw Regina's name and phone number. I took a deep breath, and answered.

"Hey, you okay Phoebe?" Regina's voice was relaxed, but kinda concerned. "It's okay if you've decided not to stay with us, but it's okay if you keep staying with us too-- just let us know, okay?"

"How am I going to do this? How am I going to handle being a pet?"

Regina was silent for a moment. "You have a natural inclination for submission, Phoebe. We'll help you figure things out, we still have almost three months left. We were just starting to form a plan to maybe find a nice domme for you, too. Come back, Stephanie made you a sandwich."

"What... what if Mika hates me?"

Regina laughed, and I blinked, tearing up a little. "Phoebe... why would she hate you, of all people? If anyone, she's going to hate me. Start back home now, or your sandwich will get all soggy." Her voice was lazily commanding, and she hung up, leaving me alone in the library. She expected to be obeyed.

She was certain, at least.

Certain I was a spineless submissive little wimp who would bend to her will-- but that was more than I was certain of at the moment.

I took a deep breath and stood up, put the duffel bag over my shoulder, and left the library, started to head back home... or, well Stephanie's and Regina's place. It was more home to me than my little apartment had ever been.

I could at least have a sandwich and talk things over before I ran off on some stupid quest to escape my life. Maybe they'd even help me escape a little, if that's what I wanted.

I didn't know what I wanted.

I hated Mika for being so fucking dependent and needy, even though I had forced her into that state.

I wondered if people thought I was a runaway slave or something. Maybe homeless, it's not like I ... that was another option, technically, but I'd probably just get brought in for vagrancy, they'd see I was young and cute, and force me to become a pet, "for my own good".

I noticed a young woman was staring at me with a concerned expression, and attempted to give her a reassuring smile... she smiled back, but judging from it, she wasn't reassured, maybe even more worried now that she knew that I wasn't looking for help.

I just wanted to go over to the processing center and get it over with. This false freedom I was in just felt like a needless cruelty, an insult to stack on top of the injury of being turned into a pet... like, if I could lure someone who worked at the processing center person and wall them up inside a basement they'd starve to death in... if that would spare me all the suffering and the humiliation that was maybe worse... maybe I would?

It was those jerk's faults, right?

But it wasn't possible.

There were a legion of processing center employees, and then the entire government backing them up, and even if it was just one person who had wronged me, I couldn't actually murder them, probably.

I pondered a little further as I waited for the light in front of me to change to red to green.

All of the people who were involved in turning people into pets probably weren't utter assholes, either... some probably just didn't have better employment options, or thought they could at least make it easier on the people who had to become pets, or whatever they wanted to tell themselves as they worked as another gear in the huge and callous system that reduced all human life to simply a value to be bought and sold.

More importantly, I was also improbably hungry and wanted a sandwich, so I decided to go back home.

It was a pretty long walk to the nearest processing center anyway.