Dog of War

Camila mixed together her favorite blend of mineral water with a little bit of extra phosphate for an added bit of zest, a perfect start to a perfect day. Setting the jug next to her desk and dipping in a vine, she rustled with satisfaction. She then took out her pad and opened the conversation with Princess' therapist from last night. Camila sent a brief update on the girl's condition, along with a sample of her own biorhythm. Then she began to puzzle together Princess' needs for the day. 

 

Choosing today’s dress was simple enough; white-pink stars dotted the pastel pink skirt, and dark green embroidered vines reached up towards them from the hemline. The sleeves were a sheer material that sat off the shoulder and shimmered as it caught the light, as though full of stars. The bodice had small cutouts on either side, providing easy access for any wayward vines or curious hands. A deep red ribbon laced up the back, a guarantee that Princess would need her help. Camila's hypnotic suggestion that being dressed was normal was holding, but extra assurance never hurt. With Camila's pink, orange, and white flower over her breast, and the small addition of a pocket for her coin, it was perfect. 

 

Princess also needed clothes specifically for gardening. Companion dresses were designed for comfort and ease of access, not manual labor. Cordelia had sent over a few of Daisy's favorites, and modifying them was straightforward. A pair of overalls dotted with Cordelia's multi-colored flowers paired well enough with a plain white tee. That left only the difficult part: shoes. 

 

Camila had puzzled over the question for some time last night. Princess clearly cared a great deal for her boots, and had even before she had a proper emotional spectrum. She was also very particular about the ways her shoes were not just tied, but laced. She had even relaced yesterday's dress in the same manner, which was frankly adorable. Especially since it had made it harder for her to put on herself, and given Camila a precious opportunity. 

 

She had at least boiled the question down to its crux before turning in last night- was it better to give Princess new boots, or some other shoes? The girl was fond of boots, and their preferred method of tying laces was impossible on most other footwear. It should be easy to find non-militarized boots that matched their taste. Then again, perhaps the boots were another part of 'Jackal' she needed to leave behind. The girl was bound to get emotional either way. Camila had prepared herself for that the best that she could, yet she still dreaded it. Even if it would give her the opportunity to give Princess more physical affection.

 

Camila set the pad down and finished her drink. She would need to do something with the boots, too. They were bound to poke at the wound of their loss, just sitting next to Princess’ desk like that. However, them just going away would also upset her. If only there was a way she could keep the boots, but not the boots as they are... 

 

An idea dawned on her. Sophonts aren't the only things an Affini can draw the cuteness out of. Princess had said they were leather; that was a fairly easy material to rework, wasn't it?  

 

Of course, as exciting as the thought of giving Princess her boots remade was, that was far off. She couldn't have them modified and refitted every day, even if the craftsman could do it, it would be inconsiderate to ask them to. Once Princess' class Gs had taken most of her height- ten, maybe fourteen more days? She'd likely be broken then. She was already starting to get close, Camila could taste it on her; a rising uncertainty when she resisted, one that couldn't help but wonder if it wasn't just better to give in. Her boots would make a wonderful gift, a token of her Mistress' love. 

 

None of this gave Camila an answer for the current boot situation. Princess was only helping Daisy in the garden, not going out for the day. Camila would be carrying them to and from the therapist. There were slip-on boots made for the purpose. The dedicated use and temporary aspect of them communicated that their old boots weren't being replaced. 

 

Finding a cute pair with all sorts of flora represented on them, Camila sent it all to the Complier and tucked her pad back inside. She picked up the empty jug as she rose from her desk and headed to the kitchen. Camila swapped the empty drink for the clothes, stashing them inside her as she set about getting the ingredients for breakfast. The breakfast burrito was only one dish left that Princess had eaten before she could taste, which made it an easy choice. 

 

Camila put two skillets on medium heat and retrieved a large potato from the pantry. Grabbing the kitchen knife from its secured place, she rinsed the vegetable off in the sink and diced it. She cracked two eggs in a bowl, mixing them to a froth with a third part milk. Checking the pans and finding them hot, she adjusted the heat to a low-medium before spreading a thin coat of olive oil in one and the chorizo in the other. The air filled with the crackle of sizzling fat and cool oil hitting a hot pan. 

 

Camila scraped the potatoes off the cutting board and into the oiled pan, giving them a bit of salt and pepper. She watched intently- giving the potatoes their needed stirring, and making sure the meat cooked. Once those had finished, Camila set them aside and replaced them with the bacon and eggs. As those finished cooking, she heated a tortilla in the compiler and mixed everything with the cheese into a bowl, crumbling the bacon. Retrieving the tortilla, she spread the mass into its center, evening it out before rolling it up and setting it on the table. 

 

Camila could hardly wait to see Princess' reaction. It was time to get her up.

 

She paused as she entered the girl's room. The light from the living room behind her cast across the darkened room, falling across the Terran’s face. Princess had such a serene, peaceful look when she slept, and it disappeared the second after she got the Class-Z counteragent. Of course, her anxious flailing as she tried to resist what the soft animal of her body craved was absolutely delectable, but there was just something about the lack of worry on her face as her chest slowly rose and fell. Perhaps... a minute or two to enjoy it would be fine? Camila crept up to Princess, careful not to make a sound, although with the class Zs it would be another few hours before simple noise could wake her. 

 

Actually, with her current levels of class Z.... Ohh it was so tempting. No, it was a bad idea. If she woke up... but that was easy enough to solve, wasn't it? It was really over the line, she was still technically a ward. Very technically.

 

Princess stirred just then, making the most adorable murmur, and Camila could no longer contain herself. Her hand moved to the girl’s head as a flower pumped in a small dosage of Class Z; just enough to buy Camila a few guaranteed minutes of touch. Even heavily asleep, Princess' body reacted, twitching weakly and mumbling in pleasure as her heart slowly ticked up. Her hair had taken on a delightful unpredicted fluffiness that tickled as Camila gently scratched her scalp. Princess let out a gasp, and for a moment Camila hesitated, thinking she had somehow woken her through the xenodrugs, but she stilled. Good. It was too early to stop, it was too late to stop.

 

Camila pulled the blanket aside and reached vines reached in under her shirt. Ahhh, she was getting so soft now, in flesh and form. Even the roughness of her scars had smoothed out. The cicatrix still stood out from the rest of her, giving the Terran’s skin a strange textured feeling. Princess squeaked as Camila continued to her chest. Her breasts had continued to develop quite nicely overnight. They still had a ways to go, of course. However, the girl would have to start wearing a bra, if only so could be stripped of it later. With control over her clothes and having assumed responsibility for dressing her, Camila now had total power over presentation. Thoughts of dressing her pet-to-be in matching sets of lingerie danced through her mind as her vines explored her body. Perhaps tonight? It was about time she wore something to bed more suited for her. 

 

Princess made a needy whimper as Camila wrapped a vine around a nipple. Ohh, stars, she was so adorable, cute, precious, perfect . She was only getting more so every passing moment. It felt ridiculous that Camila had almost let such a prize slip through her vines. These were her thighs to squeeze, her hips to grab as she pleased, her waist to stuff full of sweets, her breasts to fondle, her- Camila's vines paused at the base of her neck.

 

That horrible scar, a parting 'gift' from her prior owners. Camila could hear the creaking of her wood as she tensed up at the thought. How did they not see how delicate and precious Princess was? How could they treat her so roughly? She would likely have her pet by now if it wasn't for their use of a collar of all things. Once Princess was truly hers, she'd have to prune the information about The Company from her memory. Even just one of those responsible going undomesticated was far too many. 

 

The neck wasn't hers. Not yet. The face, however. That precious, adorable face that practically begged to be broken, that was hers . Her hair to style, her head to play with, her soft lips to kiss. Princess’ breath had grown to a heavy pant as Camila continued playing with her. The little twitches of her dozing face were far more subtle, but betrayed her pleasure all the same. That the girl thought she could resist her fate... And how lucky was Camila that she had not just delivered herself into her vines, but essentially forced herself there? 

 

Princess stirred again as Camila gave her another gentle squeeze, far more animated this time. Ah- too much stimulus. It was time to get her up anyhow. Camila readjusted Princess' clothes, and was tucking her back in when she remembered a Terran fable. Secreting an ingestible Z counteragent and Class E dosage in her saliva should be simple...

 

Carefully, Camila pressed her false lips against the girl's own and woke up the princess. 

-_-_-_-

They stirred, a faint dream fading fast. They were... naked... and there were... vines? They felt some strange warmth in their flesh that was distracting even as their cock cried out for attention. There was an odd taste in their mouth, almost like Miss Verdun's berries? 

 

They sat up and opened their eyes, sleep still stuck in their corners. As the remnants of sleep cleared and the world focused, they found Miss Verdun gazing down at them with longing. 

 

"Good morning, Princess." Her voice was warm and sweet, and for a moment they could taste it on their tongue. Their heart was definitely beating faster than normal as vague half-memories of being... 'handled' by vines continued to drift through their mind. Why would they dream about that ? Weren't the Class-Z's supposed to stop dreams?

 

Miss Verdun is right there. 

 

Panic, never came. There was definitely a hefty amount of Class E coursing through their veins. The way the world lagged a quarter second as they turned their head away from the Affini only further confirmed their suspicions. They tried to force the ordeal from memory, clearing their throat. "Good morning, Miss Verdun." 

 

"Breakfast is ready." The Affini stood up, and moved to their side with unnatural flowing grace as she pulled the blanket back. "I would like to carry you to the table."

 

They felt a shiver at 'carry' as the freshly half buried dream was dredged right back up. "Uhm," they adjusted their seating, going from their rear to their knees, testing their balance. It was predictably poor; walking wouldn't be easy, but Miss Verdun's vines were dangerous. Yet if they insisted on walking and fell, they'd probably end up losing that choice altogether. Unbidden came the thought of Miss Verdun informing them- in that no nonsense tone of hers- that they would have to be carried from now on, and they felt something inside them stir. 

 

"Princess?" 

 

Shit, were they really just spacing out around her now?! "Sorry. C-carrying is fine." 

 

They immediately regretted not risking the short walk. They could feel their heart pounding in their throat and behind their eyes as the vines wrapped around them. The warmth in their flesh cried out at the touch, and they barely resisted the urge to press into them. Being lifted up made their heart skip. They could feel a gentle thrumming and almost hear a distant, soundless song as they were carried to the kitchen. Luckily they didn't have to dwell long on the odd sense of security that seemed to accompany being carried, as they were set down at the table. 

 

"It's the burrito you had on the day of the vet." Miss Verdun sat across from them, "I thought you might appreciate being able to finish tasting the things you couldn't before. Although this one isn't compiled," she added with a simulated wink. 

 

It had smelled intriguing... They picked it up with both hands, rotating it this way and that before they found a good angle to take the first bite. They couldn't help but groan with pleasure as the flavors burst into their mouth.

 

Ohhhhhh fuck , that is good... Wait...

 

There was a small feeling that something had been misplaced again, but they could hardly care. They took another greedy bite and holy shit it was incredible! The meat alone was a rich tapestry of flavors, and the eggs and cheese elevated it a near transcendental experience. They took another bite, only halfway through chewing their last. 

 

A vine on their arm got their attention, "Dear, slow down." Miss Verdun's eyes finished her sentence- 'or else I will feed you.' 

 

They gingerly set the burrito down, chewing thoroughly before swallowing down the mouthful with the aid of a glass of water. "Sorry, it's really good." 

 

Miss Verdun's expression softened, a few of her vines flicking to and fro with happiness. The Affini was fairly cute, if you could get past the whole 'pet' thing. "I'm very glad to hear that, Princess. I just don't want you to choke."

 

"Right..." Thankfully she had given them a warning instead of just... seizing their right to feed themselves. Like last night during the bath, a memory that was still sour. "Actually, uh, about last night-" 

 

"I am a little disappointed you kept that you were struggling to yourself until it became a serious problem," Miss Verdun interjected, her tone hardened, "but it is fine. It won't happen again."

 

We can't just... cede bathing. 

 

"Ah, w-well," they forced themselves not to shrink under her commanding gaze, "i-it was just one time, surely it would be fine if-"

 

"No ." The Affini's verdict hit them like a hammer blow, leaving them breathless. "I will aid you in the bath until you no longer need Class E, or you demonstrate that you are able to ask for such help. It wasn't the first time you let your stubborn adherence to feral ideals of self-sufficiency get in the way, but I will make sure it is among the last. Have I made myself clear?" 

 

They nodded, unable to speak, opting to fill the silence with food. 

 

The oppressive atmosphere gave way to Miss Verdun's normal cheeriness. "Good, I am happy you understand." 

 

They understood alright. They were having all their rights stripped away until they had to depend on Miss Verdun for everything. What did being 'independent' even mean if you were expected to lean on others? Were independents just seen as something like communal pets? And if one wasn't submitting enough to any random Affini, they were just forced to submit completely? Hadn't they submitted to the Affini's whims from the start? Why wasn't it enough? Or was it all just a test to see how much they could extract from them before they spoke out or did something ? 

 

We've really done a poor job if that was the case. 

 

"So, what's the schedule for today," they asked, desperate to think about something other than how much control Miss Verdun had over them. 

 

"Well, after you finish eating, I was going to help you get ready and drop you off at Cordelia's. You'll be helping Daisy in the garden for a few hours- unless you change your mind or need a break, of course! I know you've been eager to get some exercise, but don't push yourself. I'll be back just before lunch to pick you up, dress you for the day, feed you, and then it will be off to therapy." 

 

They swallowed. Therapy? They had been expecting it for some time now, but today ? "Who's the therapist?" They already pushed their luck once today trying to fight Miss Verdun. It did sound like the garden would be primarily just Daisy and themselves at least. 

 

Miss Verdun pulled out her pad. "Acaulescent Nele, third bloom, she/her. Specialist in Terran psychology, mnemonic maps, and complex trauma. She's really looking forward to meeting you."

 

They hummed around a mouthful of burrito. They had a bit of trauma, sure, but 'complex' trauma? What was complex about having a few close calls with death? "What's a mnemonic map?"

 

"Ah," Miss Verdun lit up. "How to explain this... so you know how some things might remind you of other things? Say, a certain type of loud sound might make you cower as you recall a past conflict, or certain flowers might make you feel like crying as you recall a tender moment with an old lover. A mnemonic map basically lets us see how these things connect, what things have negative associations, and what those are. They're very handy for treating severe trauma like yours without an implant." 

 

Severe?

 

They bit their tongue; pushing back against Miss Verdun on the topic of their trauma was a losing battle, even they could see that. To her, they were as fragile and delicate as a laz rifle's terms of service. "And I'll be doing that today?" 

 

"Oh, today is just to meet and talk things through, see where you are at, discuss options and alternatives going forward. I already gave her some notes, but she wants some one-on-one time."

 

One-on-one? "You won't be there?" 

 

Miss Verdun giggled, her leaves rustling. "I will be just outside in the waiting room, cutie, but I could sit with you if you'd like~"

 

"I'll be fine." There was definitely some sort of catch. They'd have to be careful about what they said. That the therapist was an expert in her field made them question just how possible that was. What hope did they have? They could barely hide the few things they had managed to keep from Miss Verdun. 

 

They swallowed the last bite with a sigh; the unfortunate reality of eating a good meal was that it ended. "I'm done. Thank you for the food, it was incredible."

 

"I'm glad to hear it," Miss Verdun rose to their side. "Are you ready to get dressed for the garden?" Her eyes shimmered, a hint of predation behind them.

 

Is she going to dress us?

 

That was normal, they were a princess and princesses got dressed by others. "Yes please," they blushed as they answered. It might be normal to be dressed by someone else, but it still made their heart flutter- a sensation that was rapidly becoming normal in its own right.

 

Miss Verdun lifted them up out of their chair, eliciting a small 'eep' from them. They did not like being picked up, they didn't, they didn't, they didn't! It made them feel small and vulnerable and funny inside! Thankfully she steadied them on their feet as soon as they entered the bathroom, vines near their waist steadied them as they swayed. She immediately pulled down their pants, tapping them behind a knee, and the heat in their cheeks became an inferno. Was this feeling actually normal? Being dressed was normal, and it felt this way, so it had to be, right? 

 

Once they had stepped out of the pants, the vines quickly unbuttoned their top. A tap on their elbows had them lift their arms, and the shirt was pulled away. Their breasts jiggled slightly from the tug of the fabric, prompting a rumbling ponderance from behind them. Miss Verdun's vines twisted around and up their hips, suddenly groping their fledgling boobs. They gasped as shock and pleasure shot through them. The vines then deftly circled their nipples, giving them a gentle squeeze, and stars filled their vision as a new sensation rocked their entire body. If it weren't for Miss Verdun holding them up, they would have fallen to their knees. 

 

"You need a bra. Stay here." 

 

The vines pulled away too soon, leaving them panting for more as they struggled to stay upright. There was a noticeable absence of anger at the molestation; how could they be mad when it felt so good ? Why had she just teased them like that before leaving? Did she not realize they had been at her mercy?

 

Faded memories of the dream returned in their lust-clouded mind, of being a plaything for the ghostly vines. A curious hand wandered to their nipple. Gently, they poked and pinched at it, feeling a few jolts of sensation, some even made them gasp, but not quite the pleasure Miss Verdun had drawn out. They whimpered with frustration as they continued trying to elicit that feeling. They needed more, the warmth in their body demanded it, yet their own touch wouldn't give any. It was so unfair ! 

 

We need to stop before Miss Verdun returns!

 

Oh fuck, if they were caught playing with themselves after she had groped them- With a great deal of effort, they forced down their traitorous hand. 

 

Not a moment too soon, as they heard the door open behind them. "Sorry, hope I wasn't too long." Miss Verdun's vines returned, steadying them again as they focused on remaining silent. She tapped their elbows, and pulled the garment down their raised arms. It was black with large pink frills around the cups and a larger pink bow in the middle, matching the panties perfectly. The sensation of the garment was strange but it felt... good, in an odd way? It had some padding that furthered the no-longer-just-an-illusion of a chest. There was also something about wearing matching bras and panties that felt undeniably feminine. 

 

A white tee with pastel pink petals decorating it was next, followed by Miss Verdun having them step into overalls, her signature flower over their breast. "There you go, all done." It was a fairly cute outfit, especially for working clothes. Miss Verdun had clearly borrowed the patterns from Miss Dawnbloom; the style had a very 'Daisy' feel to it, like they were wearing her clothes. Another thing they didn't know how to feel about. 

 

Their heart jammed as Miss Verdun picked them up and placed them in her lap. "Now let's fix that hair." 

 

"R-right." Their mind had been so preoccupied with everything else, the fact that she was going to show them how to do their hair had slipped their mind. Their heart hammered away, making up for lost time.

 

Miss Verdun segmented a width of hair less than two fingers wide and held it close to their scalp. "Now when you're detangling knots, you want to start at the end and work your way to the root." She picked up the ends and began. The brush caught almost immediately. "When you hit a knot, you want to make sure you hold the segment with some slack between your hand and your scalp. If you don't, you'll end up pulling your hair, and it's quite painful. However-" Miss Verdun threaded some minute vines through, "I can simply unknot it myself without the brush, so you won't have to worry about tearing this time." She repeated this each time the comb hit a knot, and there were plenty of knots. Every other centimeter saw her stopping to untangle something, and she hummed happily as she worked. Gentle, slow, and methodical, the Affini reversed the damage they had caused with neglect. This was not the barely disguised petting session they had been expecting. 

 

It's kind of nice. 

 

There was a pleasantness to it as Miss Verdun slowly worked through from one side to the other. The humming was deep and alien, its echoing split into half a dozen layers that harmonized with it. They felt their breathing and heart slowly sync with the music as they began to drift off, the tension of all the teasing bleeding away brush by brush. There was a rhythm to it all; the brushing and the humming, they were linked. They rose and fell together, going off on brief tangents when Miss Verdun untangled something, finishing with a musical flourish as it came free. It was easy to get lost in, a welcome distraction from the simmering need in their skin. Focusing on the humming, they let it take that away too, leaving only the music. 

 

"All done~" Miss Verdun announced. Everything stopped. They blinked- how much time had just passed? It was impossible to tell. "You dozed off a little, so I figured we could continue the hair care education another time." Shit, they had totally spaced! Now they had to allow the Affini to do their hair again! "Would you like to see?" 

 

Did they? Seeing their face yesterday, albeit slightly distorted from the topology of the boot, had felt strange. 

 

"Don't worry, the mirror will still blur your face." The Affini was ahead of them, as usual. It was getting really annoying how attentive and caring she was. 

 

"Yes." The mirror came to life as the dark fog faded, as though chased away by the sun. It was strange to see their face blurred out, and how much the outfit made them look like Daisy. They stuffed down the odd feeling and examined their hair. The foremost parts of each side were pulled back in braids while the rest flowed freely down their back, the ends obscured just behind their shoulders. 

 

We almost look like a girl.

 

Between the braided hair, colors, slight curves and unsure stance, the figure in the mirror certainly had a feminine air to it. It was difficult to imagine it actually belonged to a man. Something inside them stirred as they grappled with the fact that it was them. Of course the moment they spoke it would be obvious what they actually were, and their face probably still gave them away, and it's not like they really acted like a girl anyways and- 

 

We can't just be a girl!

 

The mirror went dark as Miss Verdun swept them up, a vine stroking against their cheek. "It's alright, Princess, I'm here."

 

They hadn't even realized they were trembling until the vines held them still. Something inside them broke, and they sobbed into the Affini. Miss Verdun started humming again, her vines making long, soothing strokes in time. They tried their best to focus on the humming, and let it wash away everything again.

 

Time passed. 

 

Slowly, the humming crept its way back into them, pushing out everything else. The tears stopped, and the last of the sickly feeling was chased out as Miss Verdun turned them to gaze up into her eyes- rippling with golds and flecks of pink. "There's my Princess," she smiled.

 

Her Princess?! They-

 

We're not a pet!  

 

"A-ah." Was all that came out. Their brain was short circuiting, flashes of being Camila's jolting through their mind like sparks of electricity. Was the Affini finally going to try and claim them? Could they even do anything if she was?

 

Miss Verdun sighed. "I'm terribly sorry, I didn't realize that would still trigger your dysphoria. It won't happen again. Are you feeling better enough to be set down?" 

 

They weren't dysphoric, it just... felt wrong. Honestly they didn't really understand it. Why had they even gotten upset that people could still recognize that they were a man? That wasn't something they had ever cared about, and they didn't value the opinion of most people. So why did it sting ? "Y-yes, thank you." They were mercifully standing on their own again, if you didn't count the nearby vine that kept helping them stay steady.

 

"Would you like me to give you your class G for the day?"

 

More class G definitely sounded good. "Yes, but don't... do that weird thing with the needle again." They held their arm out and it was greeted with vines tenderly wrapping around to keep it steady. To Miss Verdun's credit, she did not take advantage of the vague wording. She simply sunk the needle in for a few seconds before pulling away. It still made them flush and bite back a small moan. 

 

"Good girl ." That didn't help. 

 

Good girl? 

 

"We- I- A-are we-" They cleared their throat. "Are we ready to go now?" 

 

There was a feeling of nervous apprehension from the Affini, "Almost, but before I finish getting you ready, I want to let you know these are just for the garden today. These and all your footwear for the next twelve or so days are temporary." 

 

Temporary was good. It let them kick the dreaded replacement down the road. It's not like they hadn't worn other shoes. "That's fine." 

 

Miss Verdun's chest opened and she withdrew a pair of gardening boots. The floral print was... well they had been wearing floral stuff for a few days now. What made them frown was the lack of laces. The Affini picked up on their dissatisfaction instantly and froze. "Ah, if you want something else-" 

 

They held up a hand signaling her to stop. "They will be fine. I am only wearing them for two or three hours." Miss Verdun slowly thawed, handing over the boots. They gave a polite "thank you" as they took them and set them on the ground. Stepping into them caused them to hum in dissatisfaction- as expected of laceless boots, they lacked the snug feeling they had come to expect. Testing the fit, they were happy to find they weren't as loose as they thought they might be. "These will do." 

 

There was a rush of air as tension left Miss Verdun. "I'm very glad they are acceptable. Now," a vine extended itself down for them to take, "I'm ready when you are."