Grant, aimless young man and accidental owner.

This story is set in essentially the same world as MonsterInNeed's (incredible) main branch. I'm not nearly as good a writer (and much more smut-focused) so please don't expect the same level of nuance and characterization you find there! But consider this a bit of a tribute to a story that has really gripped me in ways that have absolutely nothing to do with lust.

Grant has always been - to use his parent's words - "a bit aimless." The middle of five children, he'd been a talented but not extraordinary athlete, gotten average grades in school, and gotten into a perfectly respectable but not remarkable college in a mid-sized city in the Midwestern US. There, he majored in microeconomics, gotten solid B+ marks, and graduated with his class on schedule, tossing his cap and hugging his friends before heading off to a stable job he'd lined up at an accounting firm in that same mid-sized city. It had been everything he'd ever wanted. Now, two years later, the stability is starting to chafe.

There's nothing wrong with having a peaceful, predictable life, Grant has kept reminding himself. Lots of people his age would kill for that - and in this economy? It's nothing short of remarkable. He's been growing a tidy retirement account, has plenty of savings, a reasonably good social life, and doesn't have to break his back at a grueling, punishing job. A boring one, sure. But one that pays reasonably well. A lot of 23-year-olds couldn't say that much. His best friend, Mary Chen, keeps reminding him to be grateful for what he has - that that's the real key to happiness. Still, part of Grant wants something...different to happen. The Blackout, when it came, was the most novel thing that had happened to him since he graduated from college, and it didn't even happen to him.

"I keep telling you, I don't remember it," Mary says with an exasperated sigh as she flops onto his couch. Grant snorts as he sits down, lifting her feet to let them rest in his lap and switching on the TV. "It's like...just a blank spot in my mind. Like static."

"That's so frigging weird."

"I'll say." Mary sighs and rubbed her hands over her face. She was the only one of Grant's social circle from college to stay in the city besides him - in her case because she transitioned directly into a PhD course in psychology at their alma mater. Her coursework has kept her busy, but they've grown closer over the past two years than the casual friends they were in college, and she swings by his apartment most weekends to watch The Bachelor and catch up. Grant has told her frequently that her coursework sounds cool and exciting - at least she's making progress toward a goal. She's told him just as frequently that it doesn't feel that way.

"I guess it must be whatever solar flare stuff the government was talking about," Grant says with a sigh as he cues up the program. "It was super weird, though. My boss was talking to me and she just, like, stopped."

"Mmm. I was in a clinic. Fortunately I wasn't talking to anyone right when it happened, but Ted said I was just staring straight ahead at the wall over my desk." Mary chews her lip, tucking a strand of her long, jet-black hair behind her ear. "I don't know about that solar flare thing...I've never heard of anything like that happening before. And I mean I'm not in neuropsych, but...still. You'd think I would've."

Grant shrugs. "I guess the important thing is no one seems to have been hurt by it."

"Yeah. I guess."

The program has just begun when a buzz and a sudden, shrill alarm rings from their phones, slightly out of sync with one another. Mary groans and rolls her eyes, digging in her pocket, as Grant reaches for his on the coffee table. He barely glances at it, prepared to swipe it away, but what he sees there gives him pause. Frowning, he opens the notification and reads:

To the Men of this Corrupted World:

For too long, we have watched as the natural order has been subverted. The sacred harmony between man and woman has been distorted by ideologies that deny biological truth. Women have been led astray from their divine purpose: to support, nurture, and bring joy to men. The Blackout was our gift to humanity, a reset to restore balance.

We have reawakened what modern society has suppressed in the female mind: the innate desire to belong to a worthy man. Every woman now carries this awakened truth within her, waiting only for the right words to release her from confusion.

To claim what is rightfully yours, simply touch any unclaimed woman and declare your ownership. Say the words: "I claim you" or "You belong to me now" or any clear statement of possession. If she has not yet been claimed by another, she will be yours forever. Her loyalty will be absolute, your happiness her only concern, your desires her guiding star.

This is nature's way. The strongest and most decisive men will prosper. Take what you deserve. Build your household. Restore the order that has been denied.

May the worthy claim their rightful place as masters of this new world.

-The Source

"What the fuck?" Mary is looking at her phone, frowning in consternation. "This is some fucked up shit. Is yours the same thing?"

"I guess so," Grant says, though he feels an odd tingle of...what? Arousal, he supposes. He feels a bit ashamed by it. "Some incel bullshit."

"Yeah, really! What the fuck. 'Women are there to support and nurture you...' Give me a break. This has got to be some kind of right-wing hoax."

"Jesus, yeah," Grant says with a laugh. "Or maybe like a weird cult?"

"Ohmigod, yes. That would explain why they sound like they were high off a fucking Bible when they wrote this."

"Or a thesaurus," Grant snickers.

"What a stupid fucking prank," Mary snorts. She tosses her phone aside. "As though anyone could just...brainwash a woman with a touch."

"These guys wish it were that easy to get a girlfriend." Mary laughs. "And what a cringe fucking way to do it, too. I mean, women belonging to men?" Grant rolls his eyes. "I don't think there's any way of saying, like, 'You belong to me now' without sounding like a complete fucking tool." He snorts, eyes still on the screen, then glances at Mary. "...Right?"

Mary, mouth open as though she was about to laugh, seems to have been frozen mid-movement. Her eyes blink rapidly, as though processing a dozen different thoughts. She closes her mouth slowly, swallowing. "Huh. O-oh," she says, more a breath than a word.

"Mary?" Grant asks with a frown. He leans forward, taking his hand off her shin to poke her shoulder. "Hey, you ok?"

"Y-Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. I feel...great, actually." Mary looks down at herself, biting her lip, flushing slightly. "I...Grant, I think...no, I know...I'm yours."

Grant blinks rapidly. "W-What?"

"Yeah. I'm...yours, Grant." Mary sits up, scooting to a fully upright position on the couch. She takes a deep breath. "Wow. That feels good to say." She looks up, a smile breaking over her face. "You own me, Grant. Whatever you want, I'll do."

Grant stares at her, wide-eyed, for several seconds. "Bullshit," he says.