Page 95 of Plug and Drain

“A…collar?” she breathed.

“Yes,” Arken said, peering at her inquisitively. “Do you like it?”

It’s beautiful. I don’t want it.

She didn’t want to insult Arken. By his earnest expression, he clearly intended the necklace as a gift. Even so, she made no move to touch it, keeping her arms firmly by her sides.

“You really do want me to be your pet, then?” she heard herself asking, the word ‘pet’ feeling foreign on her tongue.

“Yes,” Arken replied, offering her a warm smile. “I do. I am quite taken by you, as you are no doubt aware, after the time we spent together today. Therefore, I propose an ongoing arrangement between the two of us.”

An ongoing arrangement. She shivered from a phantom breeze.

She licked her lips, trying to bide her time as she figured out how to respond to him. “What would being your pet involve, exactly?”

“Let’s see… The standard protocols would apply.”

“Standard protocols…,” she repeated. The room seemed to sway around her. “Meaning…”

“You will sleep in my room, of course,” Arken explained lightly. “I can have your things moved tonight, to make it as smooth a transition as possible. You may sleep in my bed, if you wish—that is my preference. Or the floor if that is what you prefer. I will not insist on either, so long as you are comfortable. I know some vampires arrange a dog bed—a mattress of sorts—for their pets…”

Susie’s stomach dropped, her mind running haywire as she recalled the sleeping arrangements of submissives. Something more concerning occurred to her. “What about my studies?”

She’d seen how the education of pets often suffered in the course of their duties to their vampire Masters.

“You would still attend classes, of course,” Arken said, seeming unconcerned. “And conduct your studies in my office. You will also be allocated free time that you may spend as you wish. Saturday afternoons, for instance, are all yours.”

A single afternoon? That hardly gave her any time with her pack. When would they hold meetings? Study groups? Book club? Shopping trips? One afternoon a week was not enough time to do it all.

What about drinking coffee on a Saturday morning in market square with Sarah and Harry as they debated the merits of foam art? That recurring debate usually ended with Sarah trying to push Harry into the water fountain.

It was the height of summer. They could walk barefoot along the shore of the duck pond outside Sarah’s favourite sweet shop, and they could laugh and joke with the sun warming their backs and forget about the academy for a few hours.

If she became Arken’s pet, she would miss all those moments, and she would inevitably drift apart from her friends. Maybe, she would lose sight of who she was.

A long while passed without her speaking. Susie pressed her lips together as she forced herself to look Arken in the eye. “What about Saturday evenings?”

“Those I would reserve for the two of us.” Arken seemed to register her worry, even if not the full extent, because he added, “It would allow me the opportunity to dine out with you. I understand you may be apprehensive, but I assure you: I mean to treat you very well.”

The ground felt uneven between Susie’s feet, and she was sure it would give out at any second. What he was describing was a poorly-defined, bizarre mishmash of subjugation and courtship. And despite his attempt to reassure her, it was having the opposite effect. The prospect of being paraded out and about in public bothered her just as much as whatever he had planned for them in private, and it made a sickening feeling burrow into her chest.

“We can discuss the details further once we get upstairs,” Arken said. “But for all intents and purposes, for the majority of the time that you are not in class, I would expect you to be available to attend to me.” He nodded with finality. “Now, I believe that is more than fair.”

It was more than fair, but Susie felt her heart shrink as she listened to all the ways Arken wanted to fit her into his life. Some would have found it romantic, but she could only think of how much smaller her life would be.

She hated this conversation. It was a contrast to all the other moments she’d experienced with Arken, which had generally made her feel good.

More than good. Giddy. Light-headed. Hopeful.

And he’d somehow understood her needs.

She would have preferred that he stay away so she could remember him like that.

The necklace was like molten gold in the case, beckoning her towards a fate that felt increasingly inevitable.

“Am I right to understand that I’m to wear a collar and a leash?” she asked.

“The collar, yes. As for the leash, that is something we can play by ear.”