HK28 is headed to Folsom Street East, and as a birthday present it's gonna get hunted in public :3
it's drooling over the fantasy...
Imagine catching a glimpse of someone you recognize slipping into a crowd~ You try to walk away but in that direction there's another one~ You turn around just to bump into your strongest hunter
She drags you to a quiet area and in walks every predator you've been trying to run from~
You struggle and kick but 7 v 1 isn't a fair fight. Even if you're strong, you can't wrestle off the weight of 2 hunters holding down each limb.
They know your boundaries. They know just how hard you can take it. They know that you'll be good prey and won't scream as they shred apart your clothes, pin you to the ground, and bite down on your body all at once~
Everyone knows that piercings your victim didn't ask for are cute. That heavy, dangling ornament that feels weird and unusual in her ear is just so adorable! You love that little flicker of dread every time she turns her head and it tugs on her ear, that little reminder that she's yours and everyone knows it. You should give her more, so that no matter what she's doing, part of her will be thinking of you!
niche fiction that added a new idea to a long-standing genre (Handler/hound dynamics to Mechsploitation)
created a cult-following that uses the story's dynamic as inspiration for real-life dynamics
accidentally broke containment and sent ripples throughout society (muzzles entering the mainstream as a symbol of alt and kink culture)
Gor:
niche fiction that added a new idea to a long-standing genre (Gorean Master/slave dynamics to Sci-Fi fantasy)
created a cult-following that uses the story's dynamic as inspiration for real-life dynamics
accidentally broke containment and sent ripples throughout society (Master/slave poses/positions. The stereotypical idea of what "Master/slave" looks like)
While there *are* differences:
Warhound is a socialist book that directly identifies/parodies fascism and colonialism as/for-being threats
Gor fetishizes and parodies the patriarchy as backdrop to the Master/slave dynamic
The way that these have had similar cultural impacts is wonderfully fascinating
When writing in blood: You can write in blood using a dip pen, a quill, or a simple metal nib that. When writing with blood and a nib, use diluted water to make it easier to write with & to make the pen easier to clean. Make sure to use the materials quickly after drawing & mixing as blood will coagulate and the water will separate quickly.
When storing blood (say, in a pendant), make sure it's vacuum sealed. There are blood-drawing kits online but you can also request to hold onto an extra vial of blood the next time you get your blood drawn. If DIY, add an anti-coagulant to keep the blood separated and flowing. After about a month, the blood will coagulate and form a singular, big booger. I'm planning on repeatedly drawing my blood and gifting it to my Handler <3
We at the Imperial Kennel Council enforce a certain breed standard across all hounds. These standards will ensure that these assets serve the Empire to their fullest potential while minimizing risk to the Empire's Military and the asset's Handlers.
Within 3 months, every hound should have the following temperament:
While Surfaced:
Anxious, docile, timid, desperate, and dissociated. These aspects of a hound's temperament provide 3 conveniences:
the asset's wills are easier to mold, meld, and break to a Handler's will.
the asset is unlikely to aggress on higher beings [all human personnel].
assets are more eager to receive their trigger phrase.
While Dropped:
Energetic, watchful, determined, alert, fearless, loyal and obedient. The IKC Judge shall decommission any shy or vicious hound.
Shyness - An asset shall be judged fundamentally shy if it:
refuses to present its body for examination.
shrinks away from the Handler.
fears an approach from the rear.
shies from battle or violence.
refuses an order from a higher being.
Viciousness -
A dog that attacks or attempts to attack either an IKC Judge or its handler, is definitely vicious.
An aggressive or belligerent attitude towards other lower beings [hound packmates] shall not be deemed viciousness.
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Hounds are required to meet these standards within 3 months of inauguration. If hounds are found to be aggressive towards stationed personnel [unless to other lower forms of life like hound packmates], then the asset will be decommissioned.
Postscript:
It is recommended by the IKC to research and find candidates that already have one, if not more, of the aforementioned temperaments. These candidates are easier to break into the IKC's Mold of what constitutes a "good" hound. If a candidate meets none of the criteria, please refer to the "Extreme Operant Conditioning" manual.
For all the folks in the Mechsploitation (or Dark Kink) community, please practice healthy BDSN (y'know the real term, this site is just run by prudes).
I often see a lot of posts that genuinely wish they were characters in Warhound, Steel Jaws, Wolfsbane, etc., or had that treatment happen to them.
Please remember that these stories are about abusers, victims, and fascism. (There *are* ways to navigate brainwashing, TPE, hypno, and CNC but those things require a LOT of self-awareness, maturity, and safeties jic things go south.)
I used to have very low self-[worth/confidence/esteem], bad coping skills, and still have a few mental disorders.
I'd fall for predators who saw that and took advantage of me. I've been abused by several critters under the guise of a BDSN dynamic/relationship.
Please, please, please find yourself and take care of yourself first. Pursue your passions and find those who'll pursue those passions alongside you or who will support you. Make/find community and hold them close.
BDSN is the cherry on top, and you can't have that without a foundation (or, a cake).
And please learn the signs of an unhealthy/toxic/fake dom/sub. Evil people are real.
Handler Bella makes progress in destroying hound HK28's psyche.
A short Handler/hound fic inspired by @syntheticobscurity 's post linked below.
// Tags: Mechsplo, Handler/hound, hurt/(but not alotta)comfort, panic attack, self-harm (sorta), blood, trauma, brainwashing, torture, objectification, dark kink
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"Would you like to answer a couple of questions for Me?" Handler Bella says in Her sweet, sadistic voice. The one that sounds like honey on a knife - the one that completely captivates and enraptures hound like it was savoring every syllable's sweet slice.
it nods its head. How could it not when it's for Her?
She produces 3 tattered polaroids from Her trench coat. "Do you recognize anyone in this photo?" She holds up the first one. Inside is a middle-aged woman in a rebel flight suit. She's standing behind a young girl. They both have the same smile.
hound fishes for any memory in its watery brain, but it can't recall anything. "No, Handler."
She gives a quick nod and displays the next one.
The second image is a whole crew of smiling rebels. Upon closer inspection, it's caught something.
it points at a woman. "That's hound HP27. Handler Donna's weapon." it moves its finger to another face, "That's target 4. HK28 and HP27 eliminated her and," it traces its finger to 3 other targets, "those 3 in the last sortie."
Handler nods in approval. Before She finishes putting it away, hound shyly points to another woman. it's seen that smile before. "Is that the girl from photo 1 grown up?"
"Yes, very good!" Handler says in an even sweeter tone.
Serotonin courses through its brain. hound shakes its leg and salivates.
"Next." She gently lifts the last photo in front of HK28. It shows two rebels smiling, holding each other. hound's seen them both before.
it replies, "Target 4 and the girl from photo 1 and 2, Sir."
Handler gives a broad smile. hound's brain boils with dopamine. it swoons and can barely sit up straight, but it can't look away from Her radiance. it catches itself with the table in front of it, and lovingly gazes at its Handler across from it.
She snaps Her finger, "hound."
hound brings itself to attention, its blood runs cold, and its brain freezes over. it's cold and still, ready to act on any orders.
Handler leaves the polaroids on the table. She retrieves a paddle-shaped object from inside Her trench. She turns it towards HK28, "Lastly, do you recognize this?"
It's another hound.
it's covered in knife scars and circular burn marks. it must've been a good hound.
HK28 leans forward to sniff its new packmate, but something's off.
it doesn't smell like dried blood, cigarette ashes, or sweat. it's not a picture either as its body's moving…
hound barks. it barks.
hound stares. it stares back.
hound snarls but it doesn't back down.
A stinging anxiety crawls up hound's spine.
"It's okay, hound." She reassures it. hound tries to believe Her, but this thing won't stop glaring at it. "How about we break up the aggression… Why don't you try smiling?"
hound smiles. Photo girl smiles back.
It feels like an ice pick was driven into hound's brain. A heat rises through its whole body.
hound and photo girl clutch at their heads wearing the same pained expression.
it feels the muscles in its eyelids try to shut close. She feels the lips on her face strain into a grimace. They both feel each other backing up to escape from the other. We feel the shackles on our feet stop us from running.
Our chair falls behind us as we hit the floor. Handler's standing over us as She lifts the mirror above me.
Memories flood my brain and I feel them filling every part of me. My body and the air on my skin begin to feel like a prison inflating around me. I turn my head to soothe the ache for only a second but-
"Look." She commands. I want to stop myself but days of Her torture are worse than minutes of my own.
I look into the mirror and see a girl staring back. A woman who killed her own sisters in combat. A girl who betrayed her own crew, her own mother. A woman who's been through hell and still dragged 2 of her comrades into it and please, God, just make it stop my own skin feels like an iron maiden and my brain feels like it's being wrung out and-
"Would you like for the pain to stop?" Goddesses' voice cuts through all the noise.
"Please, please, anything." I plead.
She hands me the mirror.
I look at the rotten, traitorous woman staring back. Her brain's flood of vile memories leak out like crocodile tears.
"hound. Down." Handler's voice is sweeter than ambrosia, and Her words cut sharper than any knife.
hound feels photo girl split cleanly from its psyche.
The woman staring back at hound is now forever a disgusting, putrid stranger.
"Destroy her."
hound snarls and shatters the woman on the ground. Fragments scatter across the floor as it smashes the handle into the glass in front of it.
it throws the broken carcass at the wall and chases after the chunks that got away.
it balls its paws and slams them into the shards. The pain is finally externalized, and the horrible flood of someone else's memories leave through its sliced skin. Thank you, Handler.
She slides the polaroids off the table. Instinctively, it grabs them and rips them to shreds. Teeth, claws, paws, and blood destroy everyone that was once there.
"Heel." She commands. hound breaks out of its furious trance and cowers behind its Handler.
Handler uncuffs Her hound and rubs the marks Her shackles left with Her cool, soft leather gloves. hound enshrines the memory of Her touch in its puddle of a brain; it creates an island just for Her.
hound's Savior unties hound's rebel flight suit and frees it from that bloody weight.
hound's Goddess douses the broken mirror, memories, and severed selves in gasoline.
hound's Handler strikes a match and hands it to Her hound.
"Burn her."
Without hesitation, hound tosses the flame into the pile. Heat erupts from the other side of the room and Handler pulls Her hound closer. Her cool leathers were all the comfort it needed from that sweltering heat.
"Good hound." She said.
As hound's fire began to die; its cooling mind began to calm.
"Up up."
hound goes limp but only for a second. When HK28 comes back it hugs Her even harder, and it lets the last of its tears stain its Handler's coat. She gently strokes its hair.
"Come along now. Let's get you washed." it lets go and follows Her shyly as She makes Her way out of the room.
The blood from its paws leave a glistening trail behind it.
Neither one looks back at the ashes as they leave.
💬 1 🔁 34 ❤️ 151 · "Don't recognise any of these?" she said to the dilapidated hound as she held tattered polaroids in front of her crazed
Handler/hound but you're both breaking in a new recruit.
Handler and hound have floated this idea around for a while now.
hound being instructed by Handler to do specific actions (i. e. pin them down for Her while She beats them, give them a hickey while She scratches them, choke them while She gets them even closer to finishing).
Handler's hound is experienced and it's good at what it does. Impact, hickeys, hand stuff, scratching, etc. it used to be a bodybuilder, too.
We actually had a wonderful time recently where we did primal play on a mutual. We both pinned them down and bit them at the same time.
hound also tied kitty to a chair and Handler, prey, and hound took turns playing with her vibrator + body.
Handler's hound, ofc, prefers being a solo sub; but getting to show how good hound is and how much more godly/valuable that makes Handler, it's a wonderful treat.
