Mom, about 15 years ago.

"But why not?!"

Your consciousness is shunted way back into the past, when you were just a tot. Sniffling hard and stamping your foot, you bawl at your mother with as much fiery indignation a child can muster.

"That's just how it is Luke," your mother sighed out, her patience with your outburst waning. "Humans are Humans. Canidus are Canidus. You can't marry a companion. It's illegal and it's... it's wrong, baby." You just aren't having it, continuing your heartbroken tirade. Mom has to take you home immediately, to have Dad sort you out. She needs to go console Presto, her own companion and your "big sister," who isn't in a much better state than you are right now.

How did this come to this? What went wrong?

It was just a normal day, until then. School was normal. Classes were normal. You were normal. It wasn't until lunchtime, when the kids all had a chance to chatter freely. Most kids wanted to talk about their favorite cartoon or video game; regular stuff. Some of the girls, giggling with harmless mischief, started talking about what characters they'd want to get married to. Most of the boys weren't even paying attention, let alone contributing. It wasn't like any of them really understood the weight such a topic would have on adults. It was just innocuous musings from kids who still like to play house.

Or, well... it was until you opened your big mouth.

"Well, I'm gonna marry Presto!" you boldly claim to your entire class. The cafeteria went silent for a moment, everyone looking up at you with varied expressions.

"But why?" "She's a dog, that's stupid!" "You're stupid." "That's against the rules!"

A whole gaggle of small, unfiltered voices stabbed into your heart, shooting down one of your first big dreams in life. Sensitive, heart-on-your-sleeve boy that you were, of course you crumpled to this torrent of jeering, eyes filling up with tears way faster than your little mind could come up with a good retort. Instead, you fled to your teacher to complain. How dare they step on your feelings like that?

Telling her didn't get the reaction you hoped for, though. Seems she had heard your confession as well, crisply taking you by the wrist out of the cafeteria and straight to the office. But why?? You hadn't broken any rules! You were the one who was hurt! What did you do?? You're told to sit down and be quiet while she called your parents. Oh, no... were you actually in trouble??

Is loving a companion really that bad?

You can't remember the whole conversation very well, too busy sniffing and trying to breathe.

"Mrs. Gray, you need to have a serious talk with your son..."

"...kind of behavior can only lead to..."

"...will not tolerate this indecency..."

"...expect results. We'll see you shortly." The receiver of the old office phone was practically slammed down, your teacher leering down at you with an expression you didn't understand at the time. Thinking back on it, it makes more sense now. Revulsion. She had always been a sweet woman before that; patient and soothing. Afterwards, she only regarded you with pensive, accusing stares. No one should look at a child like that.

Twice now, the rug has been pulled out from under you. Your classmates now knew you as a weirdo dog-lover and your teacher saw you as an immoral future problem for society. Mom, surely, would be the one to finally give you some comfort. School felt wrong, now.

And yet, when her car wheeled around to the front of the school... when Presto burst out from the passenger seat, instinctively going for you upon seeing your upset face, wrapping you into a tight, loving hug... when Mom caught up with firm, purposeful steps, she did something she's never done before.

She pulled you away from Presto, and told her to go wait in the car. The slender, soft-souled greyhound looked aghast, but wasn't about to refuse an order from her owner. With a fleeting glance at you, she turned and slowly walked away, ignoring your cries and outstretched hands. Mom held you in place.

"Luke, baby." Distraught, Mom had to shake you a little to get you to pay attention; to wrench your eyes from Presto. "Luke. Listen to me!"

"Luke...!"

...

"Luke...!"

That's not Mom's voice... wait, where...? Your eyes refocus, dry but surrounded by the wetness on your cheeks. A heavy weight sits on you, pinning you in place. Your shoulders shake, hands pushing on them desperately.

"Luke, wake up!" You blink, finally taking stock of the room. You're still in your apartment, still on your worn out sectional. The lingering scent of dinner still wafts about you, interrupted by a snort of salt water. You cough and sputter, but can only move enough to rub your face.

"Hmng?? What, wh-... Beatrice, what's going on?" Your companion is sitting atop you, straddling your lap, hands still tightly gripping your shoulders. Her face is red hot, amber eyes dewy and honed onto yours.

"Luke speak, then go away." She waves a hand over your eyes; something she must have been doing a lot that you hadn't yet responded to. "Beatrice ask, Luke not speak. Beatrice get scared..." Adrenaline still pumping in her system, relaxing only causes her body to tremble atop you. Her lip quivers, voice shaking. "Luke okay...?"

Your heart shatters into a thousand little dusty pieces, seeing Beatrice so very upset. You wrap your arms around her, head to your shoulder, and squeeze her tight. "I'm okay, Beatrice. Sorry, I just... spaced out, I guess. I didn't mean to scare you." Shove it all back down, big guy. The past doesn't matter. There's a companion in your arms right now who needs some comfort. She sniffles a little, but some gentle petting of her head and down her back helps her relax against you.

"All good?"

"All good." You let her sit back, offering her a comforting smile. She smiles back, just a little, trying her best for you to calm down.

Despite how emotional a moment this is, or perhaps because of it, you can't help but notice... Beatrice's full weight on you feels really nice. Her plush, meaty thighs hug either side of you, that plump ass engulfing your lap with an intense heat. Her sizable tits are all but mashed into your chest, and you swear you can feel two firm, thick points jabbing your front. Your eyes meet, breaths hot between you.

Just as you feel your hand starting to edge its way up one of those soft legs, you yank yourself away, thrusting upward to coax Beatrice onto her feet so that you can stand. She gasps softly, tilting her head at you. You don't answer her inquisitive hum, grabbing the plates off the table and moving to the sink.

You are not a horndog. You're not.

Dishes cleaned and put away, you're far too tired to do anything but lounge about for the rest of the evening, letting the droning prattle of something on TV dull your thoughts and senses. Beatrice, without a task to do, simply provides you company, comfortably nestled in the crook of your arm. You're already growing accustomed to her warmth.

Before you can veg out enough to risk falling asleep, a loud buzz roars from your pocket. Beatrice scoots aside, giving you space to check your phone. Oh hey, it's Aaron. One of your college buddies; he's usually good for a laugh. Not much else to him, either... guy doesn't seem to know how to be anything but a clown.

'Where you been, man? Haven't seen you anywhere today.'

'I told you, dude. Today was the big day. The KA event?'

'AWW SHIT, was that today?! Didja get one???? :O'

'Yuuuup. Cuter than yours. >:P'

'Not possible. Let's see her.'

With a shrug and a sigh, you aim your phone at Beatrice, telling her to smile and look pretty. She sits up straight, patting down her hair and giving you a polite smile, ready in just a few seconds. Snapping the pic, she relaxes again as you post it to your bud.

'...Fuck, dude. I didn't take you for an ass man. Thick thighs save life, amirite?'

'Don't be a perv, man. Not everyone thinks with their dick, lol'

'What the fuuuck ever. You'll crack eventually. Ain't no problem with givin' a dog a bone.'

'Horndog.'

'Hey, I keep my hands to myself in public. Not like you don't peek down at Kiki's tits when we hang out.'

'I really don't, man. Though it IS kind of hard to see her past them, sometimes. Your doggo's all boob.'

'Isn't it the best? >:P~'

You roll your eyes, unable to keep a grin off your face. Aaron's the biggest (tolerable) pervert you know, but he's still a cool guy. You just don't understand how he can be so... emphatic about his bumper-thumping exploits. The guy needs to get a real date sometime. You too, for that matter. If only you had the time. It was hard enough getting today to yourself.

"Friend message?" Beatrice noses your wrist, curiously eyeing your phone. Her tail swishes oh-so slightly behind her. You nod, showing her the pic you snapped before.

"Yeah, Aaron was asking about you. Wanted to show off my perfect companion."

She blushes a little at your praise, inspecting the picture. "Aaron?"

"You've not met him yet. Here..." You flip through your photos, stopping on one of him and his bernese, Kiki. Aaron himself is fairly unremarkable; short light brown hair, lanky build, crooked smile. Kiki, on the other hand, is a matronly exaggeration of feminine curves and absurdly top-heavy. Being a rich little shit, Aaron's parents got him a companion a few years early, transferring custody to him as soon as he turned 21. Kiki, who was named by Aaron's disturbingly uncanny ability to guess her cup size, has only gotten more voluptuous over time, much to Aaron's delight. That splash of bright white on her chest against her otherwise black-auburn fur makes those globes look even bigger. Her eyes are always half-lidded, either smoldering at her beloved owner or lazily taking in her uninteresting surroundings. She's... nice, you guess. Rather disconnected.

Beatrice's cheeks light up, mouth going slack. "B-Big...!"

"Ugh, yeah, Aaron's pretty obsessed. I'm pretty sure Kiki's a lapdog. Never seen her do anything but make herself available to him." That only makes her face get brighter. "A perfect fit for Aaron, I guess. He doesn't need servants, not really. Kiki's just his favorite toy."

Beatrice pats her own chest, looking down. "Beatrice... small?"

"Pssh, no way," you scoff with a grin. "You're perfect the way you are, Beatrice. Kiki is waaaay too big for me. That's why she's Aaron's companion. She... suits him, I guess." Besides, Beatrice totally has Kiki beat in the bottom half. Not that you need to tell her that, the puppo seeming quite pleased with your compliments already.

Nose taking in a whiff of something, Beatrice almost closes her eyes, leveling a different kind of gaze on you. "Beatrice... not lapdog?" She leans toward you, arms making her chest bulge between them.

"Um...no? I just want a normal companion." Something about that grin on her face says she doesn't believe you.

"Not even a little...?" Fuck, she's still getting closer. You lean back, but there isn't any more couch to escape to. Oh no, she's crawling back on top of you, shoving your heart up into your ears. "Luke... like Beatrice?"

"Beatrice, I don't..." words are dust on your tongue. Where the hell did this come from all of a sudden? How many different emotions are you supposed to endure in one day?? She was so well behaved not a moment ago! This is wrong, this is wrong, this is...

Her face is just inches from yours, breath hot on your chin. She tilts to the side, practically nibbling on your ear. "Nose knows. Luke has... need. Beatrice want Luke... happy."

It's only when one of her hands rests atop your pants that you realize the aching, seething erection you've developed.

Oh, no.