Had it been anyone else but you, I might've just reported you to the police, after slapping you to the face of course. But it was you after all, and I had grown to trust you and appreciate your down-to-earth attitude and intelligence, despite the vast difference in upbringing between us. You came from the old money, elite circles - be on the other hand had worked hard to get into same Ivy League university as you. But we had become friends and equals there.

It was just one day that you informed me part of the world of elites that run everything. The Pet Girls, the puppy girls, men and woman who own them and train, collect and control beautiful, accomplished women as domesticated pets for bragging purposes, if nothing else.

And to be frank, you wanted me.

You were open about it - I saw the pictures young women, mostly naked, wrapped in maddeningly restrictive mittens, collared, made pretty, following the leash on all flours and even plugged with a tail. The practice was nothing short of pure, humiliating, dehumanizing sexism. There was extensive training, commands, etiquette, 24/7 control, everything to 'condition' female mind. As if that worked, I thought to myself in private still.

But if I participated with you to this upcoming competition, I'd have money enough to never work in my life. It's all anonymous due to obvious illegality of it. You painted the picture of an performance, like a play, elegant escort. Honesty shone through your words, but it was clear you danced on line to emphasize importance of immersion and training, while hoping to convince me of the consensual nature of it.

Our friendship saved you from the call to the police. My restraint saved you from slap to the face before I walked off, confused.

But nothing saved me from curiosity mix of curiosity, greed and sweet words of yours, when I agreed to meet you again for more 'hands-on' testing.

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Train a woman into puppy girl! Can you do it? Leashes, collars, restrictive mittens, condescending words, electrified collars, aphrodisiac laced puppy food, boredom in the cage and strict sexual control. Well, that's my image of it all, what it takes to condition someone. What's yours?

This is a dub-con, reluctant but ultimately consensual start where I constantly take a bit more than I can chef, ultimately lacking options to resists. IF you have some ulterior motive to sell me off to far of country after month or two, fair enough, but don't tell me. World is full of people doing evil things for evil purposes. Isn't it more sexy to train me for my own good? I want to second guess myself and you all the time, while following your lead like a dumb trophy pet, contrary to my intelligence and pride.

If you are a literate player, meaning you have eye for detail and reasonable writing length, feel free to write a response of your ideas, character or anything really to contribute to the story. Or just get to the story if you are feeling brave! Men and women are welcomed for this.