Under Controlled Conditions: Can You Stay
Chapter 31
CW: Mild Noncon, references to implied future noncon, reference to past abuse, dehumanisation, WRU training.
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Febuwhump Day 27
Darius tried to raise his head from where he sat, the chair had become his home over the last week, a place of safety for him even if he was attached to the drip that pumped him full of drugs.
When he wasn’t in the chair he was in pain. The second day when they’d removed the IV tube from his cannula, Handler Blackwood had taken him to a room with another man, Handler Peters. They had stripped him of his black pyjama pants he was sometimes allowed to wear and started teaching him the positions he had to memorise so that Master would know he was good and he wouldn’t get punished.
Position two was humiliating, every time the handler barked out ‘Position Two’, he was to fall to his hands and knees and remain on all fours, head facing forward, back straight and his tailbone pushed slightly into the air.
Like a good dog. Like a dog inviting his Master to use him for his pleasure.
But Darius couldn’t accept it. He couldn’t do what they demanded. He wasn’t sure why anymore but a part of him rebelled, a distant memory that he shouldn’t accept his fate and should continue to fight, even though he couldn’t remember why?
That’s when the pain started. If he didn’t move quick enough to get to his positions or he stumbled or showed a flicker of defiance, the shock collar that was tightly wrapped around his throat was activated. The pain would make his throat constrict and he couldn’t breathe. The electricity flowed through his body making his limbs shake uncontrollably as the fire spread out from his neck and down to his fingertips and his toes.
When it ended Darius was hoisted to his knees to show proper ‘Respect’ to his handlers. He was back handed across his mouth and punched repeatedly as they told him he was a bad boy, it was his fault he was being punished, bad pets didn’t deserve comfort. Bruises, cuts, scratches, whip marks and more bruises decorated his body in a patchwork of blues and purples. It ached just to be still.
Then the other pain would begin.
The one that came from deep inside as he was filled with his trainers. They told him how good he was now, how his Master would be pleased. They left bruising on his hips and backside. His head rocked backward and forward against the floor as it did with every session of romantic training. It hurt so much, but Darius smiled with pride when he heard the simple words:
“Fuck….. ughhh, you’re such a good pet 936. You take this so well. Your….. ah, your master will be so pleased.”
And even though it hurt and something painful in the back of his mind reminded him that this wasn’t right, a warm heat filled his chest at the praise as another kind of warm heat filled him from behind.
The days continued in the same pattern.
Darius was restrained again in his chair, pink fluids flowed into his arm as he sat slack jawed with glassy eyes. His limp hair was sticky with sweat as he fought against the drugs hold. Other parts of him were sticky too, his back, his legs, his face. He hasn’t been allowed to wash, but he is a good boy for the time being.
His thoughts ebbed away as the drug swirled through his system. A video of his positions was playing on the screen and his mind took them in unconsciously. Darius heard the door under the currents that flowed through him, several minutes passed before the face in front of him registered as another person. They also wore a collar.
“Hello in there”, the light voice rang through layers of fog in Darius’ mind. His mouth managed to form a silent ‘Who?”
“I’m 155, I’m here to tidy you up a bit, Handler Blackwood said you were getting abit messy.”
115 pulled out some baby wipes and began to wipe the sweat, tears and stains from Darius’ face. They were gentle as they moved the wipe carefully over his skin. He looked at the person with distrust as the continued.
“I’ve been here a long time. I’m good, so good that WRU kept me as their pet. The facility pet. I couldn’t go to an owner.”, there was a childlike quality to the way they spoke.
“I like to look after people but I can also remember a bit from before. It hurts so much to try. But I try for certain people. I think you’re one of them.”
They gritted their teeth as they pushed through the blinding pain that threatened to shatter their mind.
Darius watched in confusion as the short, stick thin figure grimaced through their pain. Their dark skin was mottled from head to toe, they were covered in twisted scars and long healed burns. The shock collar they wore had a tag that hung from it, it simply read ‘Bitch’. Their neck beneath the collar was a mess of scars where the collar had burnt them repeatedly over the years.
Darius was delirious as the pink drip crushed his soul and erased his identity slowly. He was not even sure if the person before him was real. A painful memory broke from his subconscious and it slurred its way from his mouth.
“I-I was held……. At a base. Someone was…..there, a friend. They…..”
The binding agony crashing through his skull caused him to pause, he took a deep shuddering breath.
“They f-forced me……. To sign……”, he panted.
“He a-assaulted me. They….. all did. I helped….in the p-past.” Another slice of agony pieced his head. Worse than any migraine.
“I’m sorry”, Darius gasped.
The figure who called itself 115 leaned in close to Darius. He had to strain to capture their whisper.
“The cameras are momentarily off. Who are you? Where are you from?, they gasped and clutched their own head as their own conditioning worked against them.
“I’m……. I’m…. I’m 936”, Darius sobbed through the shrieking agony.
115 hung their head. “Ok 936, it’s ok.”
“Can you stay with me?” Darius’ plea was that of a young child.
“No, I’m afraid not. I have to see if there are others.” Asset 115 headed toward the door.
They turned back to 936 as they gripped the handle. His eyes were wide and sweat poured from his brow. He shook violently and his voice, laced with the terror of all the trauma he’d suffered, managed to grout out four words.
“Delta Team. I’m Dari…..”
The seizure gripped him in its claws, 115 had got what they had come for. They left 936 quickly before the medical team arrived. They had just one small window to let their person on the outside know that this man still lived within.
*******
Delta team were racing through the streets, heading to the facility they had pinpointed as holding their teammates. Several armoured vehicles full of tactical assault units followed them, their own vehicles wheels screamed as they sped onward.
“Two fucking weeks, fucking pen pushers and arseholes”, Danny snarled as Joel took another hairpin corner.
“We got a message from command”, Harris said, dragging Danny back into the present. “From an unknown contact: Holding Dari, Delta team. It has a location tag. What’s that about?”
“Never mind for now, we’re almost there.” Danny replied. He thumbed his radio.
“All units, all units, this is mobile one. I want silent approach. Leave all vehicles at the perimeter. Mobile two, take the guard station. We will follow when you give the all clear. Out.”
Danny turned to Joel and Harris.
“Time for some payback. Let’s go get our boys and bring them home.”
Two curt salutes came back his way. Danny flicked the safety off his weapon and crept into the night with the facility looming on the road in front of him like a malevolent beast, waiting to ambush them.
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