You're a good girl.

Despite everything you know what your duty is. For your entire life it's been made clear that the fate of humanity depends on you and the other Progenitors. You were taught to do everything you could to make your assigned mate happy, no matter what it took. No matter how humiliating...

Swallowing nervously you sink down onto your knees. The expensive antique rug is rough against your skin, but at least its better than bare wood. From this position Victor and Amelia loom imposingly over you, and you can't help but feel tiny next to them.

“There's a good girl. You're going to be a nice little doggy aren't you?” Amelia's fingertips brush affectionately through your hair as she coos at you. Being pet is embarrassing enough, but its even worse when you catch yourself actually leaning into her touch.

Smiling at the sight of you and his wife getting along, Victor crouches so he can lower himself to your level. As he raises the collar, your collar, towards you Amelia hooks a finger under your chin and gently scratches. Figuring out what she's after you raise your chin up, forcing you to look into her face as the cool leather strap is wrapped around your neck. You can feel it when Victor secures the buckle, and a sense of finality crushes down onto you. This is your life now.

Heart racing, face pink, you try to think of something to say. “I, uh, Thank you for the...” The slap comes out of nowhere, more shocking than painful.

“Doggies don't talk dear.” Amelia strokes the spot where she struck you and looks to her husband as he stands back up. “Victor, remind me, what sound do doggies make.”

“Why I believe they bark dear.”

“That's right.” She turns back to you. “Doggies bark. Go on then girl, speak.”

Tears well up in the corners of your eyes, whether from the slap or the humiliation you're not sure. Unable to look at anything but the floor you struggled to find the breath to speak. “...woof...”

“Sorry dear, didn't hear that.”

“Woof!”

Amelia clapped her hands in delight. “Oh that's perfect! Now what else? Hmm... you know, I don't think doggies wear clothes. Do they Victor?”

“Why I don't believe they do.”

Hooking a finger into your collar Victor urges you to your feet. You find yourself standing mere inches away from him, and you realize that even on your feet you're positively tiny next to the older man. There's something hungry and cruel in his eyes, and it occurs to you that maybe all this wasn't just for his wife's benefit after all.

You'd been given a darling sundress for your first day after the lottery; sunflower yellow and cut low enough to be enticing without being vulgar. A twist of Victor's hands tears it right down the middle, from bust to skirt. He pulls you out of the scraps like he's unwrapping a candy-bar, tossing them carelessly to the floor. There was nothing underneath but your bare body; you'd been told not to bother by the lottery.

“Aren't you just a lovely little thing. I'm going to have to teach you all sorts of tricks.” Victor's hands explores slowly over your naked body as his wife watches. Both of your breasts are given a squeeze, a rolling motion ending at your nipples, as if he intends to milk you. Going lower his fingers caress around the curve of your hips, admiring their shape. Eventually he settles his palm over your belly, and you can't help but imagine what it'll be like when it starts to swell. You suspect Victor is thinking the same thing.

“For now though, it's time we put you to your proper use.” Pressing himself against your back, you can feel Victor's hardness through his pants.