Sorry for the wait, y'all. I'm bringing 479 and Dennison back finally!
Dax Del Mar Masterlist
Tagging @outofangband @batfacedliar-yetagain @painful-pooch - let me know if you want to be added/removed!
CW: BBU, possesive whumper, gaslighting over memories
***
479 stands in the center of the white room, his hands clutching the hem of his white shirt. He’s nervous, he’s so, so nervous. He knows he messed up, he knows he wasn’t his Handler’s perfect boy, but he doesn’t want to face his punishment. He wishes he was back in the dance room working on his turns and leaps, but instead he’s here.
“Take it from the top,” Handler Dennison says, tapping his pen against his lips. He has a clipboard in his lap, where he’s taking notes for the official incident report. Or at least, that’s what 479 thinks he’s doing . He can’t read the paper to know what’s going on. “Start from the beginning and tell me everything.”
479 takes a deep breath, running his hand through his messy black hair. He doesn’t want to repeat what happened this morning. He doesn’t want to disappoint Handler Dennison, but he was given an order and he has to follow through. “I woke up and had my nutrient loaf, Sir. Then they came and got me for my dance lesson. While I was walking, I saw a man…he looked so familiar…” He trails off, trying to remember the man’s face, but now, hours later, it’s all just a blur.
“And then?” Handler Dennison prompts. “And then what did you do?”
“I had a false memory.” 479 clears his throat and the ground is blurry beneath him. “I remembered flashing lights and loud music…I remembered someone taking my hand and pulling me outside. I remember feeling free. And then I saw the man and he was kissing me.” He sniffles, wiping his eyes. “Did I…did I live outside? Have I seen the outside?”
“No, you haven’t.” He makes some notes on his clipboard. “You’ve always been here. You’ve always been 479. You haven’t kissed any other men than me, have you?”
The tone in Handler Dennison’s voice…it’s dark, it’s dangerous, it’s too much. Nothing good ever comes when he sounds like that. 479 has watched him make other pets scream, watched him draw blood. He doesn’t like when Handler Dennison sounds like that. “No, Handler. I haven’t kissed any other men than you.”
“And you’re not going to kiss any other men than me, right?”
“Well…my owner, Handler,” 479 stammers out. He’s being made for his owner. He’s supposed to be good for his owner.
Handler Dennison scoffs and waves his hand. “Right, your owner. Sure. I don’t care about your prospective owner right now, slut.”
479’s cheeks burn with the casual, degrading term.
Handler Dennison clicks his pen once, twice, three times. “But you didn’t just have a false memory. You did something, baby. What did you do? Tell me.”
“Handler…” 479 squirms around, running his hand through his hair again. He doesn’t like this, but he doesn’t have a choice. “I made a mistake, Handler.”
“What kind of mistake, baby?”
“The false memory…it made me do something. It made me…” Shame. That’s all 479 feels is shame. Handler Dennison has been good to him. He’s made him better, and all he gets for it is 479’s misbehaviour. “I grabbed onto the man. I begged him to save me.”
“Save you from what?”
“Save me from…from here.”
Handler Dennison tilts his head. “What’s there to save you from, baby? You’re lucky. You get food and water and shelter. You’re treated kindly, not like Handler Hanford’s trainees. You get treats and you get to go to dance classes and you get all of my attention. What exactly do you need saving from?”
479 crumples at Handler Dennison’s feet, gripping the man’s legs. “I don’t need saving, Handler,” he sobs, his chest so tight and empty. “I like it here. I like you. I need to be good for you.” There’s a difference between wanting and needing. He knows he needs to be good for Handler Dennison. But wanting…
He wants it too because he wants to be touched and held and loved.
Handler Dennison holds 479’s chin, forcing the boy to look up at him. “Oh, sweetheart. It’s okay. I know that false memory must have been distressing you. I don’t want to punish you if you promise me you won’t ask to leave again.”
479 nods as fast as he can. He doesn’t want to be a bad pet. He doesn’t want to be punished.
Handler Dennison lifts 479 onto his lap, holding the boy to his chest and rubbing his back. “There, there. It’s okay. I promise. I’ve got you. Just relax.”
479 leans against his handler, his heart racing. Safe…he has to feel safe. This is right. This is the way things are supposed to be.
And yet, he can’t help thinking about the way the stars sparkled in his false memory…about the way it felt to be free.
Tagging @ashintheairlikesnow @outofangband - let me know if you want to be added/removed!
TW: pet whump, BBU, discussion of Romantics (not graphic), Dennison is fairly creepy and possessive, this is just a WRU salespitch kind of
***
Dennison flops down at his desk, lacing his hands behind his head. Rough day at work. He went to check his boy out in the morning. 479 was as beautiful as ever, with those confused, doe-like silver eyes and his messy black hair. All he wanted to do was take advantage of the sweet little thing, but it’s too early for that. Unfortunately, 479 is just a patient in the clinic, not a trainee. At least, not yet. The rest of the day was filled with a bunch of Romantics, all eager and docile, but none as sweet as his 479.
All day, he was dealing with those trainees, and all day, he was thinking about this exact moment. What to say, what to do, what words to use to really sell this. He flips open 479’s file and finds the number of his owner, one Levi Katz. That bastard didn’t know just how valuable his boy really is. Dennison let 479 slip through his fingers once. He won’t let it happen again. He picks up his phone and dials the number, placing it to his ear.
It rings for a few moments, but eventually, someone picks up. “Hello?” Levi answers. “Who is this?”
Dennison smiles his widest even though the man can’t see him. “Hello, Mr. Katz. My name is Handler Patrick Dennison with WRU Romantics Division. How are you?”
Levi sighs, his voice scratchy through the phone. He sounds old, much older than Dennison. A shame, really. 479 would do better with someone young. Someone to match his…stamina. “I’m fine, Handler Dennison. How’s Hermes?”
“Oh, 588479 is recovering nicely. I’m sure the staff at the clinic will be calling you to give a more thorough medical update on the pet’s condition. I’m not very well versed on that sort of thing.” He forces a chuckle, knowing it sounds real enough to build rapport. “What I’m calling about, Mr. Katz, is more about after 479 is released from medical care. I’m a Senior Handler here, which means I have quite a lot of experience evaluating Romantics. I went in recently to evaluate how this injury of his will impact his ability to function as a Romantic. We here at WRU take our finished products very seriously, and if anything less than perfect was delivered back to your care, we simply could not stand for that.” Dennison leans forward, shuffling some papers on his desk to make it seem more convincing. “Now, when I evaluated 479—Hermes—it was clear to me that he is in desperate need of a refresher course. Just the basics, he won’t be gone long. Positions, pleasure skills, obedience.”
Levi pauses, but eventually, he says, “Okay. I trust your decision, Handler. Do what you need to do. Make sure Hermes is allowed to continue his reading. It’s important he maintains that skill.”
“Oh, oh, Mr. Katz, of course. 479 is very unique in that regard. Here at WRU, pet customisation is of the utmost importance.” Here it is. Time to move in for the kill. Dennison takes a deep breath, knowing he has to sell this hard to really get his boy to stay a little while longer. “Customisation is the other thing I’d like to discuss. WRU has made a lot of changes to our Romantic curriculum since 479 was trained. We are now proud to offer several new packages and add ons to enhance your pet. I took the liberty of selecting a few options if you’d like to hear them?”
“How much is this going to cost?” Levi asks. “I’ve already spent a fortune on Hermes. Training, medicine, jewelry, it adds up.”
Dennison laughs. “I completely understand that, Mr. Katz. Having the best of the best can be a costly venture. But to be honest with you, 479 was an absolute doll to train. A true pleasure. I would consider it an honor to have him again. Because of that, I’m willing to offer you a discount. Twenty percent off all services. It’s the biggest discount we offer owners, Mr. Katz.”
“Yeah, okay,” Levi grumbles. “Let’s hear it.”
“Wonderful.” The twenty percent off worked like a charm, Dennison knew it would. “I’m more than happy to send a full packet of options over your way, but I would hate to waste your very valuable time, Mr. Katz. I’ve come up with the additional services that I think would be best suited to 479 and to your needs. I won’t bore you with technical terms. He’ll benefit greatly from our Romantic-specific general enhancement package, which reinforces and builds on Romantic skills. I also would recommend our dictation add on. I know you like having 479 read to you. This is a small add on, but it’ll really add eloquence to his speech. Our speech trainers here can make him sound like he’s telling a story instead of just reading words off a page. This will all take about a month, but that timeline isn’t set in stone. I’d need your permission to evaluate him.”
“Can you…” Levi sighs, Dennison can imagine the old bastard pinching his nose and missing his Romantic. “Can you train him to beg better? Like…he’s sweet when he begs, but he doesn’t know a lot of different ways to do it? And I’d like a refresher on his classical ballet training. Just to be safe in case his illness damaged his skills.”
Oh, this is perfect. Absolutely perfect. Dennison wasn’t expecting this much, if anything, he wasn’t sure Levi would go for this at all. But two more add ons? He’ll get so much more time with 479 and he’ll get a nice bonus at the end of the year. “Of course, Mr. Katz. Begging and classical ballet, in addition to the Romantic-specific general enhancement package and the dictation package.”
“Yes, that’s fine. Have your people send the bill to my house.”
“Same place we sent your pet, or have you moved since, Mr. Katz?” Dennison says, typing up the order request to get it approved.
“Same address you have on file. Will you be his primary handler, or will his training go to someone else?”
Dennison grins, imagining how wonderful it will be to have his boy under his desk again. “That’s right. I’m emailing you consent forms right now to continue training your pet, and if you sign those tonight, I’ll evaluate your pet tomorrow morning and give you a call right after.”
“Sounds perfect, Handler Dennison. Thank you for calling me and notifying me of my options. That’s what makes WRU worth the price, you know. Good customer service. Have a good night.”
Dennison hangs up and sets the phone down. Customer service. It makes him laugh a little bit. Levi doesn’t know just how much worth his delectable little pet has, and he gave him up without a struggle. Dennison will get at least two months, maybe more with 479 cuddling up to him, eating out of his fucking hand.
He hasn’t been able to stop thinking about 479. It’s affected everything, relationships, work, sex life. No other trainee has come even close to that perfection, that desirability. Having 479 back in his care will either kick his addiction to the pet or make it so much worse, but Dennison doesn’t care.
For the time being, 479 is back and Dennison can’t wait to get his hands on him.
For @amonthofwhump Twelve Days of Whumpmas! Day Six-Last-Minute Relief
A little bit of comfort for 479. (I had way too much fun with this) It’s very fluffy (compared to what the poor boy normally goes through).
Tagging @ashintheairlikesnow @outofangband
CW: pet whump, BBU, facility whump, stress positions, creepy comfort, hand feeding, Stockholm Syndrome, disassociation (briefly), fluff, intimate whumper
***
“Come on, pet, hold it. Hold.”
479 cries out, his muscles spasming as he forces himself to stay poised in the air, one arm above his head, the other extended, his right leg kicked out and up as far as he could force it to go. His other leg is also straight, and he’s standing on his toes. A pathetic whine escapes 479’s lips. “Please, Handler, please!” 479 has been like this for almost an hour, and he’s crying and shaking. He thinks he might die from this, from the horrible pain. There are no restraints, but he stays like this anyways, goaded by Handler Dennison. He wants to be good, so good, but he’s hurting so much and he’s so weak, he’s going to die from this, he can’t do it—
“Release, 479. Good boy.”
479 screams as his body releases and he falls forward. Handler Dennison sweeps the still-screaming boy off his feet. 479 shudders as the final screams leave his body and he curls into Handler Dennison’s arms, desperately nuzzling there for affection, anything to make himself feel better.
He’s crying and whimpering and squeezing his eyes shut when he finally regains his ability to speak. “Please please please, I’m sorry Handler Dennison, please don’t make me do that again, I can’t, please please please.” 479 falls silent, deadly silent, a glaze coming over his eyes.
Handler Dennison’s smile drops, and he carefully sets the boy on the mat in the corner, laying his head in his lap and pulling a heated blanket over the boy’s thin, shaking shoulders. “Oh, sweetheart. I went too far, didn’t I? Are you in there, baby? Can you come back to me?”
479 only whines in response.
Handler Dennison scratches his boy’s pretty black hair, making gentle noises under his breath. 479 hums and leans into the touch, his silvery eyes fluttering open and closed behind his thick eyelashes.
“There’s my sweet thing,” Handler Dennison coos. “There’s my good little pet. Can you come back to me, baby boy? Come back to me.”
479 groans weakly. “Hurts, Handler Dennison.”
“I know, I know. I’m sorry. I went too far. I pushed you too far. Can you forgive me, pet? I wanna hear you say it.”
479 shudders, his lips pursing to form the words. “I forgive you, Handler. Thank you for...for treating me well.”
“You’re so precious. I want to keep you here with me forever.”
479 stiffens, knowing what normally follows those words, knowing he’ll have to take the pain and whatever else Handler Dennison gives him.
Handler Dennison clicks his tongue and gently massages 479’s shoulders. “Oh, not that now, baby boy. You’ve earned the night off, I think.”
“Thank you, Handler,” 479 sobs.
“What can I get for you? Just say the word. Within reason, of course.” Handler Dennison adds the last part with a light chuckle.
479’s face scrunches up in confusion. His...choice? He picks what he wants?
Handler Dennison lightly taps the side of his face. “Don’t do that. You’ll get wrinkles.”
479 carefully schools his face back down into a relaxed, practiced smile. “Sorry, Handler.”
“It’s okay, baby boy. Now, what do you want for a reward?”
It has to be a trick question. Has to be. He’s not a person, he’s a pet, and pets are too stupid to choose for themselves. “I want whatever you want, Handler Dennison,” he says, batting his eyelashes.
Handler Dennison scoffs. “None of that now. I’m trying to reward you. But if you really want me to pick…”
479 nods rapidly, then winces as his neck twinges in pain. “Please, Handler Dennison. Please pick for me.”
Handler Dennison leans down to affectionately kiss the trainee’s temple. “Alright, fine. I’ll still spoil you, though. You’re lucky I’m this patient. One second, baby. Gotta go grab it.”
479 whines as Handler Dennison pulls away, shivering as his warm headrest leaves. No other handlers do this for their trainees. 479 is so lucky he gets to lay on Handler Dennison’s lap like royalty and get rewarded.
Handler Dennison comes back, maneuvering 479’s pliant body so his head is resting on his lap. “Close your eyes and open up, baby.”
479’s heart drops. It’s not a reward, it’s a punishment, is it the ring gag again, not that, please no—
He closes his eyes and opens his mouth because he’s so good. It isn’t pain that greets him, it’s something sweet and sugary and cinnamon, and a few other flavors he can’t name because he’s not very smart. It’s soft and delicious and fills 479 up with warmth. He keeps his eyes closed and wiggles around in contentedness.
“Open your eyes.”
479 does, looking right up at his handler.
Handler Dennison groans. “I love when you do that. Love those eyes, pretty boy. Did you enjoy your treat?”
“Yes, Handler. Thank you.”
Handler Dennison feeds the trainee another piece. This one has a bit of frosting on it, 479 hums happily as he chews. “It’s gingerbread. Made it myself. Do you like it?”
479 nods. He’s so happy, he’s so good, Handler Dennison is so kind.
The man ruffles his trainee’s hair. “Good boy. We’re just gonna sit, okay? I promise. I won’t hurt you.”
For the next two hours, 479 gets a reprieve from the vicious white walls of the Facility, gets to eat gingerbread and stay cozy in a blanket. Sometimes, he can hear screaming coming from beyond the door, but he ignores it. Those pets are bad. But he’s good, so he gets spoiled.
479 would give up everything to be allowed to eat out of Handler Dennison’s hand.
Tagging @ashintheairlikesnow @outofangband @batfacedliar-yetagain - let me know if you want to be added/removed!
TW: pet whump, BBU, facility whump, male whump, creepy/intimate whumper, beating
***
“You were amazing today. Other than that one little slip up in your pirouette…gorgeous. Such a good boy.” Dennison looks right into his trainee’s silver eyes, grabbing onto his delicate hips. The boy’s perched on his lap, lips slightly parted.
“Thank you, Handler,” 479 says, bouncing in excitement.
Dennison’s been in this long enough to know it’s mostly a facade, that the boy’s eagerness is the only way to protect himself. But with 479? Dennison doesn’t mind pretending like everything is normal, like 479 really loves him.
He sticks his thumb out and the boy leans forward to close his thumb around it. No teeth. Wonderful. Dennison pushes his thumb further into 479’s mouth. “Yeah, you’re good. So good.” He pulls his thumb back and wipes it off on 479’s shirt.
479 whines at the loss, sticking his lower lip our and slumping forward against Dennison’s chest.
Dennison laughs. “That’s cute.” Would the boy from the bar all those months ago, the high little spitfire, have done this for him? He’ll never know and part of him mourns that. “Alright, baby. I’ve got to get you back to your room.”
“No,” 479 whimpers. “Don’t leave.”
Dennison frowns. “You’re not allowed to say no, 479. And you were doing so good for me. Why’d you have to ruin it, huh? Why’d you have to go and say no?”
479 squeezes his eyes shit, a tear spilling down his cheek. “I’m sorry, Handler Dennison, please punish me, just please. Don’t leave. I don’t want to be alone anymore.”
His heart is breaking for the poor boy, it really is but he needs to make sure 479 learns his lesson. Pets don’t get to say no. They sign that away when they say yes to the contract. Dennison won’t be leaving his beautiful boy alone any time soon. He pushes 479 to the floor. “Position two, and put your hands behind your head. I think ten baton hits should suffice for your bratting.”
“Yes, Handler Dennison,” the boy whimpers, quickly moving into position.
“You’re going to count for me, I want to hear your pretty little voice.” Dennison stands up, circling his trainee. “Nothing fancy, just counting.” Damn, he’s in a mood today, fingers itching to his baton. He wants to beat 479 to a bloody pulp, he wants to cuddle him, he wants to break each of the boy’s fingers, he wants to kiss him stupid.
“Yes, Handler.”
Dennison knows his boy doesn’t actually like the pain. He doesn’t train masochists like James Hanford down the hall does. 479 is just…lonely. And, apparently, needing behavioral correction. Dennison doesn’t turn the electricity on, rearing his arm back and striking 479 in the side.
The trainee stiffens with the blow and chokes out, “One.”
“Good boy.” Dennison wants to fuck up 479 so bad that the jackass of a prospective, Levi Katz, won’t want him anymore. But he values his job too much.
Dennison delivers another hit to the trainee’s back, and one across his shoulder blades, earning the correct numbers in response. “Good. Seven more.” Another hit.
The trainee’s voice wobbles. “F-four.”
“Steady, sweetness. If you’re good, I’ll take care of you after.” That doesn’t mean Dennison’s going to go easy. He slams the baton into 479’s ribs, and the trainee almost topples over, fighting the urge to lower his arms to protect himself.
He doesn’t move, though. “Five.”
Dennison smiles wide. 479 takes the final hits well, his voice high pitched as he cries out, “Ten!”
First glance at 690236, who you’ll see more of later...
Tagging @ashintheairlikesnow Let me know if you want to be added/removed!
CW: pet whump, general BBU warning, beating, memory erasure, Romantic whumpee, derogatory language, *vaguely* implied noncon only if you read between the lines, noncon kiss (nonsexual), collar, creepy/intimate whumper
479 sits on the floor in Handler Dennison’s room, looking up at him with wide eyes. He’s a handsome man, face only marred by a small forehead scar.
He’s the most handsome man 478 has seen since…
Has he ever seen another person?
Because all 479 has rattling around in his head (gonna make you a brainless whore, honey. Not like you weren’t before) is Handler Dennison, pain, and a name.
My name is Dax Del Mar.
It must be his name, who else could it belong to?
Doesn’t make sense, his owner will name him, for now he is 588479, designation Romantic.
(Yeah, honey, just like that)
479’s mind blanks as Handler Dennison cracks his fist across his face, white hot pain against his nose. Blood drips down his face, a stark scarlet against his white shirt. 479’s hands ball into fists, causing the cuffs keeping them behind his back to dig into his sensitive skin. 479’s chest heaves as he tries to regain his breath, only to have Handler Dennison knock him to the floor, face down, and press his boot between 479’s shoulder blades. 479 grits his teeth and squeezes his eyes shut.
Handler Dennison’s breath brushes over the back of 479’s neck as he attaches a leash to the shock collar and gives it a sharp tug.
479 wheezes as it constricts his breathing, just for a second, just enough for Handler Dennison to press a kiss to the back of 479’s neck.
Handler Dennison is so good. He could make that hurt, but he doesn’t.
479 is dragged onto his hands and knees by the collar. He has constant bruises on his knees from being forced there while he trains.
(Oh, good, your gag reflex is mostly gone)
Handler Dennison ruffles the pet’s hair. “Don’t worry, honey, you’ll be so much better after this last round on the Drip. All that bad shit in your head’s gonna be gone, I promise.”
479 nods.
He doesn’t want to lose the name.
He wants to listen to Handler Dennison because he’s so nice.
Handler Dennison uses his keycard to open the door to his training room and lead 479 out into the hallway. They make it a few hundred yards when 479 sees another Handler and a pet approaching. 479 keeps his head down, as not to be impudent, but he watches the other pet closely.
“Dennison! Is that your new trainee?” the other man says.
“Yeah. Bit of a handful.”
479’s heart drops. He’s bad. He’s worthless.
He’s meant for this.
Handler Dennison shrugs. “Taking him to get his last dose of the Drip. How about your trainee?”
“Showers. Need to, um, clean him up.”
479 blocks out the men’s conversation as he watches the other pet. He has deep gold skin and curly black hair. Wide, bright royal blue eyes are set in the center of his face, making him look like an angel. “690236, designation Romantic,” the other pet says in a quiet voice.
Something overtakes 479. He grabs the back of the pet’s neck, pulls him close, and whispers, “My name is Dax Del Mar. Please, please remember that, I don’t want to lose it, please.”
Hands are on 479’s collar, dragging him off 236. “Jesus,” Handler Dennison says. “Do I need to fucking muzzle you? Stop acting like an animal.” He turns to the other Handler. “I’ve gotta go get him under control. Good luck with this one and his bonded. I’ve heard she’s a bitch.”
“Oh yeah. Nothing I do seems to work.”
“You’ll figure it out. You always do. Nice seeing you, man.”
“You too. Take care.”
As the pets are dragged away, 479 watches 236 mouth, “Goodbye, Dax Del Mar.”
479 doesn’t see 236 for another three years. 479 forgets his own name.
CW: EXPLICIT NONCON/DUBCON, pet whump, dehumanization
479 bucks his hips up into Handler Dennison’s hand, desperate for a heavier feeling than the feather-light touches on the weight between his legs.
Handler Dennison is right there, kissing, sucking into the spot where neck and shoulder meet, that hollow there from not enough food, never enough food, and the simple movement makes 479 moan loudly, arching his spine, fitting his body to Handler Dennison’s body perfectly.
The man laughs into the pet’s ear. “You’re doing good, you filthy little Romantic. You’re doing so good for me.”
And this is 479’s life, it’s all he understands because it’s better than the pain. Something feels wrong, though, despite Handler Dennison telling him it’s right. It’s his training, he needs this to be complete.
Handler Dennison bites down, hard enough to bruise, not hard enough to break skin, hard enough to make 479 even more desperate. “Please, sir,” he whines.
“Please what, pet? Hmmm? Use your words, honey.”
“I need...I need you…” 479’s cheeks flush bright red.
Handler Dennison chuckles and it’s low and rough and aroused. “Oh, that’s cute. You’re getting better at this each day.”
The touches become more heavy, quicker, and 479 keens violently, his silver eyes flashing open.
Handler Dennison is good, he’s so good for making this pleasant for 479, too, other handlers wouldn’t do this for their trainees.
