Set in futuristic worlds... Just some vignettes that don't feel like anything that will ever be longer. Includes non-consensual situations.
[1] Police Puppy
[2] Kidnapped
[3] Pet School
[4] The Cure for Depression
[1] Police Puppy
In the middle of the crowded, deafeningly loud arrival hall, David sat on his hindlegs next to his handler Sergeant Clark, and sniffed the air currents for his quarry. His blue harness marked him out as a police pet, and the crowds tended to flow around him, leaving space between themselves and a pet who was authorised to use force. The spaceport heaved with free-women and slaves, but he let them flow around him without looking at any of the naked bodies of his fellow human chattels. He just breathed in great lungfuls of air through his altered nostrils, and waited.
The police pet-slave smelled worry on a group of older mistresses who passed, but he cast them a glance and saw they were breaking in two new slaveboys who struggled against their leashes. Not them. David scented an exotic smell on an air current, and he padded over to check it out, only to discover a slavegirl doused in far too much perfume by her tasteless owner. He padded back to his handler.
Hours passed, but David's discipline never faltered: he breathed in, judged the scents, breathed out. At lunchtime his handler fed him and petted him a little, just enough to maintain their bond without distracting the working pet-slave from his duties. Distractions were for their evenings together, after all, and during the day there was nothing more enjoyable than the work they did as a a pair.
Sergeant Clark waited until just before the transport from Brittaxia landed before moving her patrol towards its landing pad. She wanted to walk in on the crowd just as they were trying to work out where to go to get their baggage, and how to push through the crowd to be at the front when the luggage was unloaded. The time of maximum distraction made it hardest for them to hide any contraband being smuggled in.
David knew the game and crawled along happily behind her. He had caught three smugglers from Brittaxia in the last month, earning a significant bonus for his handler, a smaller pile of credits for himself, and a short reduction in the length of his slave contract. He already planned to sign back on, but it all meant more credits into his retirement fund, so he was happy.
They stood and watched as the Brittaxian ship unloaded and people flowed off the landing pad, through the sliding glass doors, and towards the carousel where the baggage started to circulate. David watched as a medley of new slaves marched forward, noting their awkward movements and their obvious discomfort at being naked. He dismissed them: no scents beyond anxiety.
There. A current on the air brought to him the unmistakeable scent of the batcha weed, metallic with a hint of earthiness and an aftertaste of sour fruit. He sniffed again for it, but found to his chagrin it was gone, so he barked a question to his handler and she nodded and tapped him with her foot: lead on.
David padded forward very slowly in the direction he thought the smell had come from. He glanced with practised ease at the groups of people. A matriarch with four naked slaveboys, her clothes rich and her manner haughty. Not her. Two middle-aged pet-slaves on the leash of a much younger woman, a trainer by her bearing. He sniffed carefully and the pets yipped a greeting to him. Not her.
That left a large contingent of buck-naked work slaves, males built for labour rather than domestic service, who were here to be taken on by some large company or maybe a government agency. It happened from time to time that someone would try to smuggle in a package by tricking a new slave into swallowing it, or even just through surgical implantation, but it was a stupid play, for all new imports were carefully examined. He stopped and sniffed at length: not them.
Finally, then, unless he was to lose his quarry, was a lone skinny young slaveboy travelling with a leash-drone floating next to him, and two thin girls in summer dresses, clearly free-women from their clothes and behaviours. David didn't look at either of them for more than a tenth of a second as he padded past, but he did subtly breathe in a deep lungful of air through his nose as his handler walked him by.
There it was again: just a hint, but it was enough. At least one of the three had something on them, in a package that hadn't quite stayed together through their journey. David yipped quietly and motioned with his neck, and Sergeant Clark nodded. She led him back in a loop around the carousel and they followed the slaveboy first as he walked away with a single small bag slung across his back. David sniffed him intently and found nothing.
The police pair had to walk quicker than they would like to catch up to the two young free women in summer dresses, who by then had collected their bags and were making a beeline for the exit. David needed one more confirmed scent before a search would be legal, and his handler knew it, but she didn't want to spook the women, lest it was a false alarm: she had to keep the planet's welcoming reputation intact.
As they weaved through the airport crowds and got closer and closer to the exit, David crawled quickly after the two girls, noting the fluid motion of their buttocks and their shapely calves, which made his caged cock twitch and strain. He cleared his head with a breath, then sniffed as obviously as he dared: the one on the left, he was sure. He motioned to her with his head and yipped in a short pattern, designed to sound innocent and playful to any listening ears. Take them.
Sergeant Clark used her neural computer to order security drones to float down from holes in the ceiling, and alerted her colleagues to the presence of the girls. She waited until everyone had reported ready, then marched up to the girls with her hand on her stunner, and told them to stop.
"Come with me, please, I need to ask you some questions," she said.
David smelled the fear: it hit him in a powerful wave and confirmed that something was wrong with the two. sergeant Clark saw it too, and mentally started to count her bonus and wondered what she would spend it on this time.
An hour later, a little truth drug and a strip search had borne fruit. David sat outside the barred cell where the girls were being tended to by other police slaves and watched. Strictly it wasn't somewhere he was supposed to be, but his handler was busy with paperwork and she knew the pet-slave enjoyed it.
In front of David's eyes, the two criminals wriggled and struggled as two well-built slaveboys shackled their arms and legs together, and clipped control collars around their necks. David began to salivate when the cutting shears came out, and he yipped with pleasure when the girls shrieked as their clothes fell in tatters to the floor.
David yapped happily as the girls were barcoded, and he fantasised about one day meeting the girls again as pet-slaves and fucking their tight pussies as their tails wagged. He watched as their chastity belts were locked on, and then padded after them as they were led out in a naked coffle with the day's other prisoners, until they were loaded into the transport and driven away. He knew they would get a minimum of five years for their crime: some lucky free-woman would probably be fucking them senseless by the end of the week.
The police pet-slave padded back to his partner, weaving past other police pets and two-legged people in the station. Sergeant Clark reached down from her desk and ruffled his hair, then she tossed him a treat from a bag and he caught it in his mouth. She laughed and kissed him, then sent him to the pet-bathroom to get ready to go out again: the work of a patrol pair was never done.
[2] Kidnapped
Monica waited in the cafe for her next coffee date to arrive. She wanted off her world and its equality is everything bullshit, and the Gynarchic Empire was only too happy to oblige her, if she did something for it first. To be precise, if she did five things: the identification and capture of five males who would join her on the ship to the nearest world of the GE, to be sold as slaves to the highest bidder on arrival. As a bonus, Monica would keep a fifth of the sale price for herself.
She had already tricked her worthless brother into meeting her for a walk in the woods and then drugged him with a laced bottle of water. He resided, naked and in chains, in a cloaked GE dropship that waited nearby. With him was his best friend, who Monica had enticed with the promise of sex - it hadn't been too bad, even - and then had drone-lifted from a dark corner of the nearest park at night.
Her third mark was a special one to her: her former equality studies lecturer from university, who she had always had an eye for. GE surveillance programmes had identified him as someone with a secret penchant for pet-slavery, and Monica was only too happy to oblige the man by fulfilling his secret desires, whether he wanted her to or not.
