He's a furry, with an appetite for petplay.

You already knew that Chad was a sexist jerk who saw women as objects to be used. Despite his toned body and infuriatingly good looks, he had trouble finding any woman interested in him for longer than the occasional one-night-stand. It was one of the small, pure joys in your life that any girl who got to know him realized, very quickly, that he was certainly not boyfriend material. But you were frankly surprised when you saw, on his computer screen, a short animated loop of an unrealistically-proportioned dog girl in a compromising position, sampling a juicy bone. Actually, maybe it was two bones- to be honest, you didn't stick around to find out, so you only got a few impressions at a glance. There was certainly a collar and leash involved, whatever the case.

Anyway, after that day, you reevaluated your impression of Chad. He was not so much a sexist jerk who saw women as objects to be used, as a sexist jerk who saw women as dumb beasts to be tamed. No wonder so many of them had abruptly stormed out of the apartment over the years. What self-respecting human being would be interested in subjecting themselves to that sort of treatment in the interest of a long-term relationship, even with a fairly attractive guy like Chad?

The answer to your question comes in the form of a puddle of sticky feminine juices spreading across the floor of your little hiding spot, as the threat of that very same dehumanizing and degrading treatment triggers a mounting sexual excitement - it is, after all, what Chad desires that really matters. The unexpected moisture against your feet yanks you away from your little trip down dark-and-foreboding Memory Alley. As if the revisited memory was triggering an appropriate realignment of your mood and behaviour- just like when you first heard Chad's voice, and associated it with the unconditional love a woman must hold for her male master- you find yourself sinking back down to your knees, and then dropping onto all-fours, despite your efforts to remain upright.

Your time is definitely almost up; it may already be too late to begin typing a new rule into the app, but you have to try something, right? If you hide the phone here, you might be able to get back to it later, after... Well, after whatever it is Chad does when he gets home. But... Is that the right idea? It's so difficult to think like this... You're so hot... Isn't leaving the Rules of the World App behind basically the same as surrendering to whatever fate is awaiting you out there? If you bring it with you, maybe there's some chance - however slim - of fixing some of this. But if Chad gets his hands on it... You don't know what might happen. Hell, you probably won't even know what happens, and surely that's even worse, right? Yet if Chad actually checks the usage history and realizes he's not in the original world, then there's a chance, however tiny, that he'll decide to revert all your changes and then... Well, then what?

"Hey!" Chad calls out from the other room, and you can't help but listen. "Bitch! Heel!"

And with that command, you have **** but to obey, and to obey with joy. The only question remaining is whether you pick up the phone in the next few seconds, before bounding to your master's side, or whether you don't.