It's been a hard day. You heard a former rebel having a panic attack while you were out shopping, and their shouting and screaming caused you to have a flashback. Your Mistress returned from work to be by your side within minutes, of course, but you'd already dropped your groceries all over the floor and broken the eggs you'd wanted to make a cake with. All the kinds of minor trouble that can be forgotten with a good sleep and a hug from a loved one, but the rest of the day was something of a write-off.

 

Your Mistress is inconsolable. “I should have done better … I should have come sooner … It’s my duty to protect you …” Her leaves tremble and her biorhythm phases oddly through your inner ear.

You simply cling close to her. “I’ll be okay Miss,” you try to reassure her, with little effect. You change tactic, knowing that if you express a need it’ll help stir her from her spiral. “I want to go home and watch that comforting show you got me into,” you demand softly, raising your arms to be carried.

 

So she carries you home, flumps in front of the sofa, and with a few prehensile vines makes a cup of soothing ginger tea for both of you. “Hab, play Violet’s Garden,” she commanded, wearily.

“Oh sweetie of course,” replied the hab’s AI. “I hope it cheers you up.”

Naturally the hab remembered exactly where you had got up to in the series, so it started playing from the beginning of Episode 11: ‘Run Fast, Violet!’

The central conceit of this light comedy was that Violet Aurea, Third Bloom, was the first Affini on a remote Terran colony where Affini propaganda had worked a little too well. Every Terran in town was simply desperate to throw themselves into the arms of the first Affini they met, and this happened to be Violet - apart, of course, from Violet’s actual assigned floret, Silver, who said they ‘didn’t want to be a pet’ and allegedly craved independence. Their actions suggested otherwise, to a humorous extent.

 

Here Silver is on screen now, a Terran with short blue hair stretching and yawning in bed while a saxophone music cue plays. “Gosh,” they exclaim, “I wonder why I sleep so much better when Violet’s here.” Laughter from the studio audience. “It must be the little noises she makes … Note to self: Buy a white noise machine for the bedroom. Wait, no money any more … Rent a white noise machine!” Louder laughter, with a few fits of giggles. Silver was an audience favourite.

 

A stock door opening sound effect was played and then the eponymous Violet came into view, a massive and wide green Affini covered in tiny purple flowers. She winked with two of her four purple eyes at the camera. “Well, well, well, what’s my little Silver doing here with only this live studio audience for company!” A few laughs and cheers from the crowd.

“I’m not your little Silver!” protested Silver, sticking out their tongue and folding their arms.

“My little Silver will enjoy their morning shower and their breakfast, but if you’re not my Silver …” Violet raised a mossy eyebrow, in mock threat.

Silver swallowed. “Is it … pancakes for breakfast?”

“For my Silver’s breakfast, yes - a thick stack of delicious homemade pancakes, fed to them piece by loving piece.” Cries of ‘awwwww’ from a few in the audience.

“Well, you can call me ‘Cheeseball’ or ‘Horsedirt’ or ‘Gerald’, as long as I get my pancakes I don’t care!” Silver blushed furiously as Violet picked them up and took them off screen, to wild applause.

 

The scene changes, and Violet and Silver are walking along outside their little house. The set is designed to look like a grim mining colony still in the process of being Affinitised. Plants, benches and a new soft walking surface helped to offset grey, boxy buildings and inelegant steam vents. A new character zips past, dressed in running lycra, her boobs and ponytail bouncing around wildly.

 

“Wait,” you ask your Mistress, “Is that Ophelia Paradula? The famous actress?”

Your Mistress rumbles in acknowledgement. “It may well be. She has been doing cameo appearances lately.”

 

“Woah there,” says Violet on-screen to the new girl, “What’s the rush? You wouldn’t want to knock into anyone.”

The new girl turns round and squees. “Omystars it’s an AFFINI!” She runs headlong into Violet, her tackle caught easily, so she is left tangled in Violet’s vines. “Can I, like, call you Mistress? Am I your floret now?” Cheers and laughs from the studio audience.

Violet puts her down carefully and pats her on the head. “You’re very adorable, but I’m afraid I already have my hands full with my existing floret.”

Silver turns bright red, and huffs. “I’m right here, you know. It’s not like I want to be your floret anyway. This girl seems a much better bet.” Cries of ‘awwwww’ and knowing snickers from the studio audience.

The new girl droops. “Awww, but I need domesticating so badly … please …” She pouts, some tears leaving her eyes. A caption saying ‘Don’t worry, it’s just pretend!’ flashes on the screen. Some sobs from the audience.

Close-up shot of Violet approaching the little Terran and enfolding her in a gentle hug. “What’s your name, little one? And what’s the matter?”

“My name’s Tulsi, pronouns are she and her,” says the actress, sobbing into Violet’s soft vines. “I just feel so … out of control. I keep fixating on my body, it feels like I should be able to control that, at least. But no matter how much I diet or how much exercise I do, my body never feels like mine, you know? So if I become an Affini’s, it doesn’t have to be my body any more and I don’t have to, like, stay in control.”

Violet holds the girl close for a long moment, provoking a few sympathetic coos from the crowd. “Little one, dysmorphia can be very complex, and although we Affini can weave our magic and make your body what you wish it to be … nonetheless I’m afraid if it’s control you seek, then the body isn’t the right place to seek it.”

“What do you mean, Miss?” asks Tulsi.

“Even for those of us who can change our bodies more or less at will -” and here Violet unwove and rewove her torso - “need to accept our limits and reach a compromise between what our body can do and what we need it to do. I promise that a good solution exists.”

Tulsi nods. “I have been on these Class Gs for ages, and my body is mostly right … it’s just I keep fixating on small things … like my toes aren’t a very nice shape … my belly button doesn’t look right …” The audience is audibly crying. Affini audiences were certainly not difficult to stir up.

“Little Tulsi …” Violet almost sings, her biorhythm compelling even over video, “it sounds like you’re finding flaws in your body because you’re painfully anxious about something. Do you know what that might be?”

“I’m …” Tulsi begins haltingly, “I’m … so afraid of being considered unattractive or getting misgendered. I feel like, if I’m not super careful with my body, I’ll get bullied again like I was in school …” A couple of Affini vines can be seen snaking in from the edges of the screen, as though the audience is storming the stage. There is a tiny cut, and they are gone. Wails of unhappiness from the Affini in the audience remain.

 

You hear your own Mistress whimper slightly and curse in Affini, so you stand up on tiptoes and kiss her cheek, before settling back down in her lap, nestled up as close against her core as you can get.

 

Violet smiles gently. “Silver, tell the lady how she looks to you.”

Silver rolls their eyes. “She looks like a beautiful sports model to me. Stunning, flawless. Not that it will help if you don’t believe that, Tulsi.” The audience claps and cheers.

Violet nods. “I’m glad you had your Class Gs, Tulsi. Your body is a beautiful sight indeed. But can I take you to a vet to get some Class Es for your anxiety, some Fs for your intrusive thoughts, and maybe some therapy to talk about your fears with someone understanding?”

Tulsi sighs, dries her tears on Violet, and nods. “And hopefully, if I’m a really good girl, they’ll domesticate me, right?” Relieved laughs from the audience.

“That’s right, Tulsi. We famously only domesticate sophonts on their best behaviour.” Raucous hoots of laughter from the back.

Tulsi grins. “In which case, I’d better get a personal best on my way home! My overnet handle is ‘RunnerBean666’. See you later slowpokes!” She zoomed off.

 

***

 

A caption flashes on the screen: ‘Break Time! Drink some water, little ones and big ones alike!’

 

Then the scene cuts to a Rinan sitting in the middle of a large and beautiful model railway. The squeaks and chitters of Rinan language are translated through subtitles.

“Hello!” he says, raising a caboose to the audience, “thank you for watching my little silliness! I asked for a few moments of your time to share my special interest! Aren’t these trains wonderful?”

For about half a minute there are lots of naturalistic shots of different model trains speeding through imagined landscapes, a mixture of Terran, Martian and Rinan architecture, scenery and people, with several Affini figurines to scale standing on bridges and at station platforms. There seems to be a slight preference for freight services over passenger trains.

“My favourite period to model is the 2200s modernisation period!” he chitters happily, putting a derailed rake of mineral hoppers back onto the tracks. “There was such a variety of different rolling stock around, from preserved diesels and conventional electric locomotives to maglevs and experimental zero-G trains! Not that I would model a zero-G layout!” He titters with laughter as though it is obviously ridiculous. “But yes, I love modelling accurate trains and then imagining them serving the places and people I love.” He stims happily on a vine that was disguised among the chaos of modelling paraphernalia. “Come on down to Tren’s Trains down in the central district if you want to start modelling yourself, have a play on one of my layouts, or help me tinker and fix things up!” He picks up a soldering iron and starts attacking a misbehaving set of points, diving under the layout, while the screen fades out. ‘Tren’s Trains’, reads an on-screen caption.

 

***

 

The scene changes to a public park, with Silver and Violet in shot. Silver is sitting in Violet's lap, and visibly flinches when the camera settles on their face. "What?" they protest, shrugging and breaking the fourth wall, "it's comfortable." The audience laughs.

They tug on a vine and turn to their Affini. "Misst- … I mean, Violet," they began, provoking more than a few giggles, "have you contacted that sad runner girl yet?"

Violet nods and hugs them close. "Indeed I have, sweetie. I arranged a vet appointment for her tomorrow. However, there's a bit of a wrinkle, darling …"

"Hmmm?" Silver gives up trying to writhe out of Violet's vines and just relaxes into her touch.

"The only way I was able to persuade her to go to the vet was by promising her a race. If I lose the race, I have to take her on as a floret!"

Silver blushes bright red, making an archetypal shy sub face. The audience chuckles. "Ummmm … why would that be bad? I mean, I know she'd have to … share my bed …"

Violet laughs heartily. "You'd like that, little tsundere, wouldn't you? But no, I don't feel up to taking on multiple florets, even though you and her would make such adorable pinnates …"

Silver makes a strange squeaking grunt and turns away, folding their arms. "What! Pinnates! That would mean I had to be a floret. I guess I had better cheer you on, Mistress … I mean, Violet …" Ecstatic laughter and coos from the audience.

 

Tulsi runs up to the pair, dressed in a different set of running gear. Her large breasts bounce happily.

"Hey dorks!" she says, more cheerfully than the feeling her eyes show. "Time for our race, Miss Violet? I'm all warmed up and in fine fettle."

Violet unfurls herself and stands up, winking at Silver. "I suppose so … little one, can we run from this bench to … say that bush over there?" She gestures to a large, thick bush on the horizon, the furthest of two large, thick bushes.

"Sure!" says Tulsi, grinning.

 

Silver counts them down, and they're off! It's a very cinematically unsatisfying presentation, with flat lighting and minimal editing, like a low-budget soap. The audience cheers for Tulsi, mostly, and Violet lets her take the lead. However, the nearer of the two thick bushes suddenly jumps out and grabs Tulsi, yards from the finish. It's an Affini! Violet lopes forward for an easy win. A few sensitive florets in the audience cry out.

"Sorry for playing dirty," Violet smirks, "but I thought you would probably like to meet my friend Catoniasta! They've been eager to meet you!"

Tulsi, finding herself restrained by vines, stops struggling and looks up at the large bushy creature that has captured her. A gentle smile beams out at her from a wooden mask-like face deep in their prehensile vines. "Hi, nice to meet you! I'm Catoniasta Pimeja, Seventeenth Bloom, and I have crossed between galaxies specifically to meet you." Florets can be heard swooning in the audience.

Tulsi looks down to avoid their gaze, stammering: "H-How did … Why did … Why me?"

Catoniasta forces Tulsi's gaze upwards to meet theirs, manipulating their chin with a soft prehensile vine. "I happened to see some of your photographs on Affinstagram. You looked incredibly cute, but there was a sadness in your eyes that made me long to burn it out of you. I can see -" they brush stray hair out of Tulsi's eyes - "that sadness is very much still there. Be mine."

Tulsi blushes and squirms beneath this new Affini's firm confidence. "Yes Mixter!"

"Good girl," Catoniasta purrs, patting her new floret's head. 

Violet joins in with the headpats. "I think I knew better than you did what you needed, didn't I, little Tulsi! Oh, Catoniasta, don't forget about this little one's vet appointment tomorrow."

Catoniasta gives Violet an easy smile. "Sure! Just send me the appointment details and we'll be there. Now this one is coming to my hab."

They lead a furiously blushing Tulsi away, using a vine as a makedo leash.

 

Violet turns to the camera and winks. "An Affini never plays fair, but we will always do what's best for you! Now little ones at home, this is our midpoint break, so be sure to give your caretakers a cuddle and thank them for taking care of them!"

Silver huffs. "And this is a special message from everyone's favourite little brat, to all you independents out there: don't be! Domestication is -" there is a beeping sound censoring Silver saying a rude word - "-ing awesome. Tell your hab 'I Want To Be A Pet' today and let one of these amazing plant people make sure you never have any trouble ever again!"

The screen fades to a caption reading: 'Snuggle break~'.

 

***

 

Your Mistress pauses the programme and lets out a strident moan. "But … through my neglect, you got in trouble today … am I a bad owner, little one?"

You shake your head and stretch up to kiss her beautiful face. "Miss, that wasn't neglect, and what happened today wasn't trouble of the kind Silver meant. I remember being independent. I didn't have the comfort I needed. I didn't have you. Today was just the kind of little meltdown that happens all the time to people like me. You can't stop me needing the toilet, or getting hungry, and nor can even you stop me being sad sometimes, Mistress." You tear up yourself, moved by your Mistress's injustice to herself. "But when I get sad, you give me what I need and that's what only you can do as my wonderful, beautiful owner. So don't be mean to the Affini I love most in all the galaxy."

Your Mistress gives you a weak smile. "I will try, little one. Thank you."

"I love you, Mistress," you cry as you snuggle into her vines.

"I love you too, my darling floret." Your Mistress resumes the programme and covers you with adoring strokes from her soft vines.

 

***

 

Through the blissful haze of petting, you see three little bots whirl about on the screen. They all have wildly different shapes and forms, but are all clearly specialised for cleaning, with brush, vacuum and nozzle attachments or various kinds. "Hello!" comes a friendly synthetic voice. "You may have seen some of us around the ship, removing mess and dirt from all the places you cuties might leave it!"

Another synthetic voice cut in. "We represent the Amalgamated Union of Adorable Cleaning Bots, and we have a demand!"

A third voice cut in, this one shy and halting. "We want to be played with and cuddled more!"

One of them hopped up and down on its little spindly legs, another span in circles on its little wheels.

"Not all of us are sentient, but some of us are! And we love to be petted and told we're cute!"

"We work hard for your happiness and we love doing it! But we love to see your smiles too!"

"My name is 2C47 Armina, Thirteenth Floret! I used to be a sentient war drone!" said the one hopping about on spindly legs, excitedly. "Now I follow my Mixtrex's orders and obliterate all the dust!"

"My name is Koltop Rando, Fourth Floret Ramet," said the shy bot, a little boxy grey thing that kept bouncing off the edges of the set, "and my Mistress has confined me to this body for a week as a … punishment game …" They span round in a little circle and tipped over.

"My name is Philippa Turner, and I am an independent sophont, a former Terran who digitised herself. I love cleaning so I hang out in this body a lot!" She gave a dextrous little dance in her round robot body, using nozzles and brushes to gesture and alter her balance.

In perfect digital unison they called out:

"So if you see a cute little cleaning bot around the place, remember to give us praise, cuddles when it's safe, and ask if we'd like to play!"

They all waved goodbye with their brushes. "Keep clean! We love you! We are the Amalgamated Union of Adorable Cleaning Bots!"

 

***

 

The screen returns to Silver and Violet sitting in their living room, Silver cross-legged on Violet's voluminous green lap. "What?" they shrug to the camera, "it's comfy!" The audience titters, happy with the repeated in-joke.

Violet pets their little head. "Dear, we have visitors coming soon! Remember little Tulsi?"

"Oh yeah, the cool sports model girl!"

"She and her owner Catoniasta are coming over."

Silver rolls their eyes dramatically. "What is it with every cool Terran I like getting domesticated?" Cheers from the audience.

"She's had her implant fitted now and her intrusive thoughts about her body are much better now!" Violet explained, ignoring Silver's bratting. "She has got a few extra body mods though too."

Silver flapped their hands with excitement. "I'm not super happy about another Terran working their way into you Affini's suffocating vines … but I can't wait to see how hot she'll be when she's confident and happy with her body!"

 

"Hey cutie! Lucky you! You have some visitors!" chirps the hab AI, in a noticeably different voice to any real hab AI - just so any easily confused florets watching don't open their front doors. Silver and Violet both say "Enter," at once, the two of them looking at each other with bruised pride. "This is my hab!" they both say in unison. The audience laughs.

In comes Catoniasta and a noticeably softer, fluffier Tulsi! She has soft fur all over from her collarbone down, a pair of fox ears that match the reddish-brown of her hair and fur, and a bushy fox's tail. However, no less startling is her plush, almost chubby form - hard to recognise from the fit, athletic girl from before.

Silver breaks the silence first. "Girl, you're gorgeous!! Can I hug your lovely soft body?"

Tulsi blushes hard and then nods, and Silver enfolds her in a deep, tight hug.

"You see," Catoniasta explains to Violet, "it turned out this little one was partly ashamed of her desires for a soft, chubby body, and that's why she tried so hard to keep control of her shape, to try to hide her true self. She still has the intrusive thoughts, and little bouts of dysmorphia, but she seems at ease in her body in a way she wasn't before."

Violet nods and joins in with cuddling both Silver and Tulsi.

 

In a way that would seem odd to an old Terran television screenwriter, the last ten minutes of the programme are simply uneventful, happy cuddling, while the live audience sighs and coos. Finally Silver, wrapped up in Violet's vines and head on Tulsi's soft lap, turns to the camera and says: "Well, I guess this is my life now. Watching problem after problem get solved by this damned meddling Affini." They shudder with pleasure. "And for the record, Violet?" they declare, looking up at their owner, "I will never be your floret. Pick anyone else you like!"

Laughter from the audience as the screen fades to black.

 

***

 

Your Mistress carries you to the dining room and plops you down in your chair while She busies herself cooking. Her biorhythms seem stronger, more regular now. "Thank you for everything, Mistress," you murmur happily.

"Thank you for being my wonderful floret, little one~" she softly croons in response. "That programme is so healing, isn't it?"

"Yes indeed Miss. The structure always seems a little odd, though. There's so much cuddling after the episode plot has been resolved!"

"Isn't that like real life, though?"

You consider for a moment what life has been like since the Compact swept in. "Well … I suppose it is, yes."