Amateur fighter Marlow Lancaster and aspiring artist Lorenzo Whitlock have nothing in common, until they both arrive at WRU and become bonded to each other, more than any force could drive them apart.
CWs for the series (check each post for individual): pet whump, BBU, box boy universe, lady whump, whumpees in love
Writings under the cut.
Pre-WRU:
Lorenzo Whitlock:
Bahamas (collab with Sara)
Failure of a Whitlock
Marlow Lancaster:
Home Sweet Hell: 1 // 2
There Were More
The First Killing
Not So Proud
Kyle
You Can Run, But You Can’t Hide // Not Enough
690236 and 728501 (Facility Era):
Guard Dog 501:
728501 Intake
501′s Profiling
Cas and the Lamb: 1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // Masterlist -- collab with @painful-pooch
Neck Day
Positive Reinforcement
[coming soon!]
Too Late to Beg
Romantics 236 and 501:
690236 Intake
New Training (just 501)
Dilemma
Set Up to Fail (discussion about the whumpees)
Not Today, Satan
Decision (NSFW) // The Rookie
Leo Finch’s Failure: 1 // 2 // 3 // 4
Sunny + Star:
Year One:
Special Delivery // Hunter’s House Rules
Regardless
Good Pet. Bad Pet.
Star Tries to Hurt Sunny // The Pairing Knife // The Ledge
Yours, Sir (NSFW)
Losing the Game
On the Altar (NSFW) // After the Altar
Breathe, Sunny
Flu Season
Christmas Lights // Interlude // Sugar and Spice and Nothing Nice (NSFW)
Christmas Eve
You Are Home // Let Me See
Year Two:
Fetch
Open (NSFW)
She Said She’s Sorry
Not Worthy, But Good Enough for Now
Storage
She Can Take It // Nurse Carson (NSFW)
Disgrace
Light My Fire
Wishes
Falling Star // Pieces of Star // Walking on Hind Legs
Year Three:
Introductions
The Pet Left Alone
Weak
All Alone
Just A Dream (NSFW)
All the Light is Gone
Lost in the Dark
Goodbye For Now
Escape:
Rain
Safehouse, Night One
To Dream
Recovery AU:
Stress Reliever (NSFW) // Once a Romantic, Always a Romantic (NSFW)
Asks:
Sunny disobeys Sir // 501′s Romantic Training (NSFW) // Sunny and Star take a Bath // Sunny and Sir in Bed (NSFW) // Star and the Pillory (NSFW) // Star’s Feelings on Escaping // Ideas on What Would Break the Pets // Hunter’s Secret // Sunny Breaks a Rule (Quietly) (NSFW) // Sunny Stands Up to Sir // Star Stands in the Rain
For @amonthofwhump Twelve Days of Whumpmas! Day Four-Muzzled
This is Star/501 just after she got her designation switched over to Romantic, but from Handler Hanford’s POV. It’s a little rough and heavy on the dehumanization. Its also a look at how she became a trainee and there are a lot of messed-up implications with that. Heed the CW.
Tagging @ashintheairlikesnow @whumpinggrounds @whumptakesthecake @justplainwhump (I love and appreciate all of you)
CW: pet whump, BBU, lady whump, facility whump, dehumanization, lots of dehumanization, muzzle, whumper POV, discussion of masochism, vaguely implied future noncon, noncon kissing (nonsexual)
***
“Yeah, she’s a rowdy one, but look at her. All sweet and dolled up for me.” James Hanford is standing in the doorway of his training room, arms crossed against his chest, leaning against the doorframe. Patrick Dennison stands on the other side, looking mildly bemused.
“So she’s taking to the new training well?”
James laughs. “Oh, fuck no. She bit someone’s hand so hard she severed one of their tendons. I got to give her one hell of a beating, though.”
“How are you even doing this? Guard Dog to Romantic? When she already had three months of specialized training?” Dennison taps his fingers against his clipboard.
James shrugs. “We’re trying a few different things. Right now, though, she’s got to stay muzzled. Which is a shame. Could have really gotten somewhere with that mouth of hers. That’s the problem with bad dogs. They bite and ruin everything.”
From somewhere behind the two men, inside the confines of the training room, there’s a low whimper. All of James’s trainees have nightmares about that room. All of them, without exception. He prides himself on it. Makes the pets better for their future owners, if they’re that scared of him.
Dennison ignores the sound. “When are you introducing the bonded?”
James’s grin grows. “When she’s desperate. When she’s willing to do anything for interaction. 236 is already primed. He’s a natural Romantic, I don’t have to do that much extra work with him. 501, on the other hand…” He clicks his tongue. “She’s a fucking Guard Dog. Nothing else. Fucking feral, too. Maybe, if I had gotten to her before she started intensive Guard Dog training, we would have had a chance, but not like this. Not this bloodthirsty.”
“Well, at least Greco’s doing his job,” Dennison says.
James frowns and looks down at his shoes, noticing a bright smear of red blood across the polished leather. “You can kiss his ass while he’s getting Employee of the Month. I’m over here trying to make sure 501 doesn’t kill me.”
“Stop bitching. You know what she needs? To be thrown around. Show her that she’s not as tough as she thinks. We’ve been treating her like she gets all this extra shit because she’s oh-so cool and tough. Kick her around.”
“What do you think I’ve been doing for the past week?”
“Try harder.”
James waves his hand at Dennison. “Go fuck off to vanilla Romantic land and enjoy your trainees who don’t actively try to kill you.”
With Dennison gone, James steps back inside the training room and locks the door. He turns to look at the girl kneeling on her floor.
There’s a pole in the center of the room. Her arms are tied behind it, her torso is lashed to the metal with thick rope. Her calves are tied to her thighs, and each ankle is tied to the pole, forcing them to spread slightly. A thick leather muzzle covers the bottom half of her face, and the bit is cutting into her gums and making small drops of blood slip out from under the muzzle. She growls at James as he approaches.
James laughs. “Can’t say you don’t deserve this. Don’t try to talk, it’s useless.” He crosses the room and sits down in a chair across from the pet. “You’re a Romantic now. Not a Guard Dog. Nod if you understand that.”
501 pauses for a minute, then jerkily dips her head down.
“Good.” James leans forward. His phone buzzes in his pants pocket, a reminder to call his mom and thank her for sending over the photo album of their recent beach trip. But for now, all his attention is on the girl in front of him.
Not really a girl, more of a mutt. An animal. Soon, a pet. She won’t be calling her mom tonight. The only photos taken of her will be from her owner, if he wants. James hopes they’re humiliating. He hopes 501 suffers.
501 snaps at him, lurching against her restraints.
It dawns on him all of a sudden, fast and overwhelming and delicious. “Oh, wow.” James taps his fingers against the arm of the chair and smiles. “What’s going on with you, 501?”
She makes a pathetic, muffled noise and lurches forward again.
“You want me to touch you, pretty thing?” he asks. “Want me to hurt you? Cause that’s what you’re made to do, right? Take punches for your owner? Like a Guard Dog.” This revelation is life changing. She’s a natural, a natural masochist. Wonderful.
501 nods, trying to yank herself free.
“Yeah, no. Here’s what’s going to happen instead: I’m gonna leave you here, just like this. I’m not going to hurt you, 501. I’m not going to do anything. I’m just going to walk away.”
The pet’s eyes widen with shock. Her fear is palpable in the room and James drinks it up. He loves his job, man. He loves his fucking job. He stands up from his chair, circling the girl. Each attempt to free herself only makes the ropes tighter. He squats down, studying 501’s green eyes, brown hair. “Hunter was right. You are a pretty one. Guess I understand why he wanted you as a Romantic.”
501 takes a deep breath, as much as she can with the muzzle. Her head tilts to the side like she’s sizing James up.
James chuckles. “Little natural masochist. That’s so cute.” He gets closer to 501, a mere inch from her face, and 501’s breathing is hitching and growling. “Good thing that’s what your prospective wants. But I can tell, you know. You like it, pretty thing. You like when me or Greco beats the shit out of you, don’t you? Maybe it’s cause you were a Guard Dog, it was your job. Or you’re just my little masochist.”
501 shakes her head.
James pushes down his anger to study the trainee again. He likes to find out what his trainees are really thinking and use it against them. 501, she’s not the easiest to read, but James is good at his job. She’s confused. She’s scared. And she really, really doesn’t want to be here.
Not all trainees come of their own free will.
And she only wants to be hit if it’s in a real fight, if she can hit back and go home afterwards.
She’s never going home. She doesn’t even remember her home.
James leans forward and kisses her, right on the muzzle. His lips leaves a wet spot on the matte leather.
501 makes a horrible, strangled sound and thrashes her head back. Her skull makes a hollow sound as it strikes the pole she’s tied to.
“You’re a Romantic,” James says, standing up. “You’ll need to get used to much worse than that.”
A single tear slides down 501’s face, melting into the muzzle.
“You can try and be tough as much as you want.” James sits back down at his desk. “But it’s not gonna work. You’ll break for me. I’ll take all that useless anger rattling around in that empty head and turn it into something productive. Only one thing that you’re useful for, pet.” James delights in the shudder that rolls over 501. “You’re gonna sit there until you’re good and ready for me. And then we’ll start.”
James turns his chair to his desk. He likes having a trainee whimpering in the background, no matter how quiet. It helps him focus. He takes one last look at the wet spot on 501’s muzzle before opening his laptop. Fucking perfect. The feral ones are fun to break,
He opens his laptop to an email reminding him about the confidentiality of 728501’s contract.
Not all trainees come of their own free will.
And Greco said 501 was dragged in kicking and screaming.
Part 2/4. Thank you to @shapeshiftersandfire for beta reading! Also, some of the dialogue in this was written by or modified from ideas by @painful-pooch and @circus-of-pain! You’re all wonderful. And again, thanks to the Whump a Woman server for working out some ideas with me.
CW: facility whump, referenced lady whump, whumping the whumper, humiliation from coworkers, name calling, punishment for poor work performance, light slapping, forced to kneel, jokes about forcing someone to become a pet
***
Bennett, one of the nurses in the clinic, is waiting for Leo at the door. The twenty-five year old African American grimaces at Leo’s wheezing, hunched over body, and leads him to a bed in the employee section.
“I already heard,” he says, grabbing a few things from a cabinet.
Leo lies down on the paper-covered bed, staring up at the ceiling. “So you heard that I’m in deep trouble?” he wheezes out.
“Hey, Leo, we all make mistakes.”
“Not my first one,” Leo mumbles.
Bennett walks back over, putting his supplies down. “Sit up for me. I need to check a few things before I can let you rest.”
Leo swings his legs over the side and sits up, grumbling.
Bennett taps on Leo’s chin. “Open.”
Leo drops his jaw and looks up at the ceiling, too embarrassed by the intimacy of it all.
Bennett briefly shines the light in Leo’s mouth before stepping back and setting the tool aside to be sanitized. “Okay. I don’t see any issues with your throat. Do you have any pain anywhere?”
Leo shakes his head. “J-just the bruising.”
Bennett frowns. “Tilt your head up. Let me see.”
Leo drops his head all the way back. Bennett runs his calloused fingers over the bruises, gentle enough so it won’t hurt. “Okay, you can relax now. Bruising isn’t that bad, I’ll put some cream on your throat that will soothe it, but they should fade in a week. Lie back down for me, sweetie. And then we can get to healing those emotional wounds.”
Leo flops boneless onto the bed. Bennett rubs a cream on his fingers and starts working it into Leo’s neck. “Why’d you do it?” Bennett asks quietly.
Leo makes a soft noise of protest. “Don’t want to talk now. Sorry.”
Bennett finishes rubbing the cream in and stands up. “Yeah, I understand. I’ll come get you when they call you to the Committee, okay? Lights on or off?”
“Off, please,” Leo says.
Darkness envelopes him as Bennett closes the door. He doesn’t know how long he’s there, but it’s long enough that he could have fallen asleep.
His guilt is eating at him. Right now, 501 is probably heavily sedated in the heavy restraints while a plan is developed for disciplinary action. It’s his fault. He provoked her, he knows better than to bait the former Guard Dog.
When Bennett comes back to get him, Leo’s stomach has twisted into complicated knots.
“James is here,” Beckett says. “The Committee’s ready for you.”
“Are they okay? The other handlers?” Leo asks.
“James was only dazed. He has some residual pain in his groin and some bruising on the side of his face and ribs. Dennison has a minor concussion, surface lacerations, a deep wound from being bitten, bruises on his back, and a desperate need for a chiropractor. None of the Guard Dog handlers who sedated 501 were injured.”
Leo stands up and heads out. James is waiting for him at the door to the clinic, a bruise blooming out from his temple. He doesn’t greet Leo, just turns and walks them down the hallway.
The Committee of Handlers for No-Mortality Incidents meets in a room just near the elevator. Before they walk in, James leans over and fixes Leo’s hair. “You tell them the truth. It’s best that way. Dennison was awake enough for this meeting, though, so there will be hell to pay.” He pauses. “Awake is a strong word. To be honest, kid, he just wanted to kick the shit out of you, and then he’s going back to the hospital.”
Leo nods frantically. That’s it, he’s going to be sick, he’s going to throw up all over James’s shoes that the pets have to polish.
James sighs. “And we’ll talk about this later. I’ll be here with you for the meeting, and Greco is also going to talk to the Committee, but you and I will have a private conversation at some point.”
Together, they head into the room.
The Committee is sitting at a long table, all six of them in a row and grouped by designation. The table is elevated slightly so they all look down at Leo. There are two handlers from each designation present, selected by corporate. The Guard Dog Handlers are Handler Robinson, a tall, lean woman with a scar on the side of her face, and Handler Cain, a muscular, quiet Hispanic man. Handler Paisley, a short blond man, and Handler Bright, a lanky brunette, make up the Platonic and Domestic Handlers. For the Romantics, there’s Handler Thomas, a pretty African American woman, and Dennison, who’s holding an ice pack to his head. There’s a bandage around his neck and an IV in his hand, leading to a bag of blood.
Handler Cain gestures to the chair in the center of the room, and in a voice too soft for his frame, he says, “Sit.”
The chair must be shortened or something, because Leo feels like a small child sitting in front of them. James sits in a chair on the back wall, joined by Greco when he slips in a moment later.
“Okay.” Handler Thomas looks around the room. “I call this meeting of the Committee of Handlers for No-Mortality Incidents. Handler-in-Training Finch, since this is your first official disciplinary strike, I’ll tell you what’s going to happen. Since the merchandise, Romantic 728501, was not damaged during her escape, and there were no deaths of any merchandise or handlers, we’re allowed to peer-review you and assign appropriate disciplinary action. You’ll give your account of the events and what went wrong. Your supervising handler will speak on the accuracy of your account and Handler Greco will speak on 501’s condition. Then we’ll make some remarks on it, tell you what to do next time, and assign discipline. Understood?”
Leo nods. His leg is shaking out of control, he’s about to jump out of his chair and run.
There’s a horrible silence in the room before Handler Paisley leans forward. “You gonna start talking, kid? Or do we have to make you?”
There’s a chorus of laughter and Leo is burning up.
“I’ll talk,” Leo says, cringing at how weak his voice sounds. “What happened was that I gave 501 the green stuff, and Handlers Dennison and Hanford put the electrodes on her to do a shock treatment, but she slipped the restraints. She attacked Handler Dennison first, then Handler Hanford. Both did their best to subdue her, but failed. She, um, then she destroyed the shock machine and the remaining vial of the green stuff and started strangling me. Once I was able to, to stand back up, I followed her out and saw that Handler Greco and his team had managed to subdue her.”
“James, is that correct?” Handler Bright asks.
“Yeah,” he says from behind Leo. “But the little bitch didn’t tell you why this happened.”
Little bitch? Leo’s heart drops. He’s in danger here, a sheep surrounded by hungry wolves.
“Go on, dumbass,” Dennison snaps. “Tell everyone what you did.”
Leo’s words are barely audible. “I took her collar and gag off, and I left the restraints loose. But, but I had reasons, I needed to do the injection in her neck, and I was asking her a question, and her wrists and ankles were all chafed and I didn’t want her to be in more pain—” Nothing he’s saying is going to help his cause.
“What question was so important that you had to take off the gag on one of the most dangerous, volatile pieces of merchandise we have in this facility?” Handler Cain asks.
He can’t bring himself to say it.
Dennison slams his hands on the table. “For fuck’s sake!” he yells, then winces.
Handler Thomas watches him carefully. “I can call an alternate,” she says.
“Nah. I wanna flame broil this kid and then I’ll go back to the fucking clinic. What the fuck did ask 501, Leo?”
Leo focuses on a blemish on the floor. “I asked her if she was okay,” he stammers out. “I wanted to see if she was okay.”
The room erupts into chaos, people screaming at Leo but he can’t distinguish the words, before Handler Thomas cracks her baton down on the table, drawing everyone’s attention. “Quiet!” she yells. “Let Handler Greco make his report on 501’s condition and the damages before we do the peer review.”
Greco steps forward, holding a file folder. He throws it on the Committee’s desk. “The machinery and drugs that 501 broke cost ten thousand dollars. In addition, she put two handlers in the clinic with moderate injuries and caused bruising to another. That alone ups the cost because of the medical treatment. Now, as for 501, she’s in solitary, currently heavily sedated and in the restraints we use for Guard Dogs. Muzzle, straight jacket with metal bands woven in and bucked around the arms, high power shock collar, legs restrained with canvas, straps, and metal bands, chained to the floor with only three links of chain. When my team and I were restraining her, the pet was in severe psychological distress, which may in part be due to taking a high dose of the Hypersensitivity Enhancer, but I would say it’s mostly from her situation. Any questions?”
“What punishment is 501 receiving?” Handler Robinson asks.
“Handler Hanford and I will determine that tomorrow. After this meeting, he has been ordered by the clinic to go home to sleep off his injuries. 501 will remain in my care until then.”
“And the bonded?” she asks.
“The bonded is going to his room and will be staying there. He’s been reassured that 501 is alive and being punished. I slipped some mild sedatives into his food. 236 has always been a good boy, though,” James adds.
God, the trainees must be terrified. Or at least they will be tomorrow, when the aftermath sinks in.
“Can we get to the fucking peer review?” Dennison snaps. “My head is killing me.”
Leo grips the sides of the chair for dear life.
“Here at WRU, we don’t like company property destroying company property,” Handler Thomas says. “And we sure don’t like it to seem like a handler-sanctioned event.”
“These things aren’t people.” Handler Cain shifts in his chair. “They’re pets. They’re toys. They need structure. They don’t understand that. And 501 is particularly unstable. Any change in her environment, she reacts with anger. You need to be more strict with the pets. Help them stick to their schedule.”
This isn’t so bad. It’s fair feedback, actually, and Leo’s starting to calm down.
As if on cue, Handlers Robinson, Paisley, and Dennison stand up and crowd around Leo, boxing him in.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.
Handler Robinson grabs a handful of Leo’s red hair and yanks, snapping the boy’s head back. Leo whimpers, looking up at her with wide eyes. They can’t do this. He’s a handler, he works for them, this is wrong wrong wrong.
“What’s the matter, kid? Daddy didn’t hit you hard enough so you turned out all sweet and stupid?” Handler Paisley slaps Leo across the face, hard enough to sting. “Or did he leave you all alone? Probably deserved it, since you’re this fucking weak.”
Fuck. Leo feels tears building in his eyes.
Dennison glares at Leo. “You fucking bitch. You think we’re so bad and mean to that fucking mutt, but look what she did!” The bite mark is wrapped in gauze, but it’s already bleeding through the bandage. “Come on, Leo. Grow a pair and do your job. Letting these things, especially that mutt, have a break, doesn’t teach jack shit.”
“Eh, I think he’d be a better pet than a handler.” Handler Robinson gives another hard yank on his hair. “If he keeps whining like that, I think we better make him one of Dennison’s trainees.”
No. Leo thrashes around, ignoring the sharp tugs at his hair. He has to get out of here, he has to curl up and hide.
“He fights like a Romantic trainee, too,” Handler Robinson says. “Well, a normal Romantic trainee. 501’s just fucking crazy, so she’s an exception.”
“Our methods work,” Handler Paisley hisses. “Get your head out of your ass and see that. James filled us in on how you break the rules and try to make them like you. All you’re doing is fucking ruining everything!”
Dennison pauses for a minute, carefully appraising Leo before turning to Handler Robinson. “Get him on his knees. He wants to help the pets so bad, then he can join them.”
Handler Robinson grins wickedly and pulls Leo up by his hair, sending a kick to the back of his legs to force him onto his knees.
He wants to curl up and die but he can’t, not with Handler Robinson keeping him on his knees in front of the whole Committee. His left cheek is still red from Handler Paisley slapping him, his handler uniform is rumpled, his throat aches.
A single tear slides down his face. 501 isn’t worth this. They’re right. She’s just a feral animal. She’s just a mutt.
A camera flashes in the room, Leo cringes away, but it’s too late. The picture was taken. The damage was done.
Handlers Dennison and Paisley head up to the table. Handler Robinson rubs Leo’s head. “Think you can stay on your knees?”
Leo’s internal organs are made of shame. He nods, another tear falling.
“Good.” Handler Robinson slaps him in the back of the head before going back up to take her seat.
“Handler Dennison, since you’re the closest to this situation, I’ll allow you to make the call on the disciplinary measures for Handler-in-Training Finch,” Handler Thomas says. “As long as they’re approved by Handler Hanford.”
Dennison stares at Leo. “Do you like being on your knees? Do you like being a pet?”
“N-no, Sir.” Leo can hardly speak.
“Do you understand, pet, why we do what we do?”
“Yes, Sir.”
Dennison shakes his head. “I don’t think you do. Not well enough. Do you want to be my little bitch pet or do you want to be a handler?”
“I want to be a handler.” Leo gulps. “Sir.” He doesn’t want this, not really, but it’s better than the alternative.
“Okay. We have to solidify that, though. 501’s punishment was interrupted. Not only was that a behavioral adjustment for her, it was also a test of combining the green stuff and the shock machine. We’re missing data now.”
Leo doesn’t like this, not at all.
“Your discipline for allowing 501 to escape and damage handlers and equipment is to undergo 501’s punishment for her. I don’t think you’ll ever want to help the trainees after that. Handler Greco will administer. Then, you’ll be on two-day leave and I expect to see you back here with a brand new attitude.” His face softens, just for a minute. Maybe it’s from pain, maybe he’s thinking about his favorite trainee, the pretty boy with the silver eyes. “I don’t want to see you here again. Ever.”
It’s a general understanding that handlers who go rogue, start questioning the morality of keeping the trainees locked up like this, try to circumvent the system to get the pets out never see their friends and family again.
They end up on their knees wearing a white shirt, black shorts, and a shock collar.
Leo’s already one for four.
“Move him quietly,” Handler Thomas tells Greco. “If any of the trainees see a handler being treated like this, we’ll have widespread chaos on our hands. Handler Bright, is there any more documentation necessary for the conclusion of this hearing?”
Handler Bright scans the paper he’s been filling out. “Not to my knowledge. I’ll need Committee signatures once we conclude. Is there anything that should be redacted or…removed?”
Handler Thomas sighs. “Take out where Handlers Robinson, Paisley, and Dennison were talking to Handler-in-Training Finch. And where they hit him.”
Leo bites his bottom lip and stays on his knees. They can’t do this. They can’t just make it all go away that easily.”
“Okay. I’ll remove that part.”
What else have they redacted? They shouldn’t be able to do it that casually, just taking out where they forced Leo to his knees. How many times have they removed worse from their files?
The part that turns Leo’s stomach isn’t that they can redact whatever. It’s that they can redact things. That they know what they do is wrong, and they choose it anyways, over and over again.
Isn’t that what Leo’s doing? He’s not going too end up as a pet so instead, he becomes a monster, just like the handlers sitting in front of him.
He chose this.
“Meeting adjourned,” Handler Thomas says. “Handler Greco, make sure you give Handler-in-Training Finch a proper demonstration of how a pet should be secured.”
Leo doesn’t move until Greco taps his shoulder. “Come on, kid. Let’s go.”
This is the first of a 4-part series! Each part has different CWs, so heed those. Thank you to @shapeshiftersandfire for beta reading this, and to the Whump a Woman discord server for throwing around ideas with me!
CW: pet whump, BBU, facility whump, lady whump, noncon drugging, shock torture, whumpee fights back, biting, concussion, dehumanization, handlers finally get what they deserve
***
Leo carefully buckles the restraints around 501’s hands, leaving them just a notch loose. “You okay?” he asks.
501 growls from behind the ring gag forcing her jaw open, saliva coating her chin.
Leo blushes. “Oh, I’m sorry.” He reaches around the girl’s head and undoes the leather straps, pulling the gag away.
501 coughs, cracking her jaw. “Why…why do you care?”
“Because...” He doesn’t have a good answer for her. Because he shouldn’t. Because he does anyways.
Leo steps down to where her ankles need to be fastened to the end of the dental chair, leaned back slightly. The girl’s legs are exposed in her black shorts: welts from James Hanford’s baton, a grotesquely swollen left knee, and bright red chafe marks from the metal restraints normally locked around her ankles. Leo winces at the sight, and buckles the leather straps more than a few notches loose.
James stepped out of the room to grab Patrick Dennison from his lunch break to see this display with 501. Leo’s been put in charge of prepping the trainee for today’s test.
She flexes her hands into fists, the only movement. Sometimes, he thinks she’s dead, how she barely moves. 501 just watches and waits for the right time to fight back.
Leo doesn’t blame her. Not with the way James treats her.
He slides his tray over to her and picks up a needle. “Okay. I’m going to start looking for a good injection site, alright?”
She stares stonily at him. With James, she’s a little more of a spitfire, but being away from her bonded puts her on edge.
Leo puts on purple latex gloves before feeling around her hand. She’s been under the needle a few too many times this week, and her hands are showing it. He frowns when he can’t find a good, unblemished spot. He tries the other hand. Nothing. Both elbows and feet. Nothing. He would call the medical team, but they’re not allowed to interact with 501 unless she’s heavily sedated, and that would disrupt today’s training plans.
Leo pulls out his keycard and holds it to the sensor on 501’s collar. With a faint beep, it comes undone, and Leo puts it on the table. 501 shudders at the loss, turning her head side to side.
“Hey, hey, stop that,” Leo says, putting a hand on her cheek. “I took your collar off, so you won’t get in trouble. It was my decision. I’m going to do the injection in your neck, okay?” His throat locks. “If you stay still, I won’t have to get Handler Hanford.”
He hates himself more every day he does this job. Every time he has to say pets instead of people. When he has a girl who’s two months younger than him, just barely nineteen, tied to a dental chair to be hurt.
The girl narrows her eyes at him but goes still, baring her neck. Leo presses around with two fingers before finding a vein. “There we go. Stay still.” He cleans the site up with a cold antiseptic before pressing the needle in.
She doesn’t flinch. He thinks it’d be better if she flinched, or cried, or did something to show that she didn’t like it.
Leo tapes it down and makes sure her restraints are still comfortable, just as the door swings open.
James and Dennison walk in. Dennison is almost half a foot taller than James, and a lot more muscular, but Leo supposes that James makes up for it in fury.
“I’m sorry, I had to do the injection in her neck,” Leo explains. “She’s had too many IVs and drugs recently. And I ungagged her too, she was drooling so much the electrodes wouldn’t stick.” The second one is a lie, but James is never going to know.
“Yeah, well, she shouldn’t have forgotten position 13 four days ago.” James leaves the door unlocked. “Greco might come by later when she’s out of it. Scare the shit out of her.”
Dennison walks over to the dental chair. “What do you want me to do?”
“We’re not doing much today,” James says. He rolls a machine out from the corner and starts untangling the electrode wires. “Put some of these on her head. Leo, push twenty milligrams of the green stuff.”
The hypersensitivity drug. It’s still in the testing phases, no one has any idea of the long term affects. But 501 hasn’t had any adverse reactions to it yet, so she takes a full dose. It’s supposed to make every single feeling the trainees experience even more powerful, pain, pleasure, the clothes against their skin. Makes 501 half-crazy.
Dennison sticks electrodes onto the girl’s forehead while James puts them on her stomach.
501 is already sweating, shifting around in her restraints as her pupils blow wide.
“I should try this on my boy,” Dennison says with a faint smile.
“Yeah, see, but you’re boring. You’d be all soft and cuddly and shit. We’re just gonna shock her until she cries.”
“My boy’s a masterpiece. 501 is…”
James laughs. “Yeah. You don’t need to tell me that she’s a fucking disaster.”
Leo shifts around, torn between saying something to defend the girl or staying quiet. Either way, she’s still getting shocked. He’s already on thin ice with James after being caught giving 236 extra scraps of bread from the employee lounge and giving 501 painkillers and letting both of them catch a thirty minute nap while James was at lunch and…
He sees the point.
James puts more electrodes on 501’s arms while Dennison works on her legs. She’s whining when the men touch her. It must feel like fire on her skin, the way she’s sweating and squirming.
Leo is glad he left the restraints loose, otherwise the leather on her chafed skin would be hell.
The last of the electrodes go on, followed by her sharp whine from James pinching the girl’s skin.
Dennison laughs. “Shit. Now you’re really making me want to try the green stuff on 479. He’d sound gorgeous.”
James moves to stand by the source of the electrodes, his jaw clenched. There’s a dangerous look in his eye, spitting fire down at the weak trainee. “I don’t care about her sounding pretty. I wanna hear her fucking scream.”
Leo takes a step backwards, colliding with the table. Isn’t there supposed to be a clear reason to hurt them? The trainees, the pets, whatever Leo is supposed to call them? And shouldn’t there be a system to make sure that the handlers don’t get to take the…the pets on a joyride?
Not for Senior Handlers Dennison and Hanford, both with spotless records and friends among the higher-ups.
“Charging,” James says, switching on the machine. “We’ll start at five and work our way to ten.”
The green stuff doesn’t take away a trainee’s lucidity, so 501 whimpers as she registers their words. Leo is shaking and desperately wishing he brought earplugs so he didn’t have to hear her scream.
“Five more seconds,” James mutters.
Trainee 501 bolts up, knocking her head against Dennison’s. The man stumbles back, blood gushing from his mouth. “Fuck!” he yells.
501 slipped her restraints.
501 slipped her restraints because Leo didn’t tighten them enough.
The electrodes rip from her skin as she stands up, shaking herself out of her ankle restraints. She jumps on Dennison’s back, clawing at his neck.
“Shock her!” James roars at Leo.
His heart is pounding, he’s terrified of 501 and James and what happens after. “I can’t! I took her collar off!”
When 501 only manages to draw a little blood from her short nails, she bites down on the man’s neck while kneeing him in the spine.
Leo took the gag off 501.
Dennison makes a strangled noise, sounding more animal than human. 501 pulls her head back and spits something on the floor.
501 bit a chunk off Dennison’s neck because Leo took her gag off.
She jumps off his back, but maintains her grip on his shoulders to kick him hard in the back. Dennison folds like a card, his head slamming against the floor.
“Dennison.” James says softly.
He doesn’t answer.
501 retrieves his shock baton from his belt and starts approaching James.
Leo wants to go invisible, he wants to pretend this isn’t happening.
James pulls out his baton. “Stand down, puppy,” he says with a nervous glance back at Dennison.
The man isn’t getting up.
“Not…your…fucking…puppy!” 501 yells, launching forward with a strike.
Hypersensitivity is hell. 501 must be dying, all those feelings on her skin, a single bead of sweat could be short-circuiting her brain. But it’s also making her more alert.
James should be able to take her down with one strike. He does taekwondo on the weekends and he’s widely known for being able to subdue even the unruliest of Guard Dogs. But somehow, each of his attempts to stop 501 is blocked easily by the girl. She pushes forward with an extra surge, swinging from a block to hit James in the side with the baton at full power.
James screams like his throat is being ripped out and falls over. 501 kicks him in the groin, and at that, he sobs and curls up, giving 501 the chance to strike him in the head so he’s too dazed to move.
There’s a split second pause while 501 catches her breath until she turns to Leo. She walks forward, and Leo’s heart is hammering into his ribs, she’s going to kill him—
She swings the baton down on the machine over and over and over until it’s just a mess of parts and cracked plastic.
She’s moving again, closer and closer.
Just to slam the baton on the remaining vial of the green stuff, spilling the liquid everywhere.
501 drops the baton. It clatters to the floor amidst the chorus of safe safe safe safe in Leo’s brain.
He’s going to be okay.
501 reaches out to him, and Leo smiles reassuringly.
Her hands wrap around his throat and his eyes fly open. She has to reach up to get to his neck, but she’s choking him, her grip strong and unyielding.
It doesn’t matter what he does. He’s always going to be a handler to her.
Her pupils are blown out, almost completely obscuring her irises. She must be suffering so much in there, Leo can tell from how much she’s trembling and breathing heavily.
“Stop,” he croaks out. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
She puts more pressure on his neck in response.
It takes longer for him to go limp than he thought. They stare at each other for several minutes as Leo’s vision starts to go and he loses feeling in his limbs.
501 drops him when his vision is completely grayed out and he can’t move. From his sideways, blurry angle on the floor, he sees 501 pick back up the baton and start walking out the door.
He has to get up.
Dennison is unconscious and James won’t be moving for a while and it’s up to him to go get 501 back. They’re both fucked. This never would have happened if James did the restraints. He’s going to be reprimanded severely. He might even get reassigned.
Nothing compared to the pain 501 is going to get for escaping. Good trainees sit there and take it.
Leo takes deep breaths. Bruises are already forming on his pale, freckled skin, almost like a collar.
He should have left the collar on. He should have left the gag on. He should have tightened the restraints all the way and even added some.
Slowly, Leo manages to drag himself to his feet, bent over, and he holds onto the wall and makes his way into the hallway.
There’s a loud commotion going on down the hall. Leo makes his way to the source of the noise, wheezing pathetically.
501 is being held in the air by five different Guard Dog handlers. Four of them have one of her limbs each and Handler Greco is holding her head, fitting a thick leather muzzle over her face as she thrashes and screams. Once the muzzle’s on and she’s quiet, Greco reaches in his pocket to get a syringe of powerful sedatives, enough to knock out a Guard Dog twice 501’s size. He pops off the cap and jams it into 501’s neck.
The handlers relax, and one picks up 501’s limp body and slings her over his shoulder.
Greco lays eyes on Leo and his nostrils flare. “What the fuck did you do, kid?”
Leo’s face is bright red, not just from being strangled.
“Shit. James and Dennison.” He takes off down the hallway towards the training room. Leo limps behind to follow him, but he’s farther behind. When he gets back to the training room, Greco is on his knees next to Dennison, talking on the radio.
“We need medical. Two stretchers, and I’ll be sending someone else down. Three handlers injured, two in pretty bad condition. The trainee was fine. She’s in solitary now.”
“On our way.”
“10-4.” Greco sets his radio down and looks up at Leo. “You fucked up, didn’t you?”
Leo nods.
Greco sighs. “Alright. Walk your ass down to medical. You’re going to stay there until you’re cleared and we put together the Committee to review this. And, you know. When James comes to.”
“I’m sorry,” Leo whispers, running his hand over his throat.
“Sorry doesn’t cut it, kid. I have two knocked-out handlers here, and 501 is being strapped up in solitary. Trainees need structure. I don’t know what you did, and I don’t want you to tell me now, but the responsibility falls on you, not 501 or James or Dennison.” Greco makes a shooing gesture. “Get the fuck out of here. Go.”
