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Living Weapon used to love going to the shooting range, eager to prove themselves and make their Handler proud, but that feeling had soured into dread and becoming dispatchful ever since their new Handler had started using it. They missed their old Handler, but they had a ‘family emergency’, whatever that was, so Living Weapon had been reassigned to New Handler until Old Handler could come back to work. New Handler wasn’t like Old Handler at all, and Living Weapon missed Old Handler every moment they were gone. Old Handler was so good to them, beating them properly when Living Weapon deserved it but also letting Living Weapon sit beside them during meals. New Handler wasn’t like that at all, despite the fact that they usually didn’t beat Living Weapon. New Handler’s tactics and punishments were always much, much worse.
Living Weapon suddenly had to focus entirely on suppressing their noise of surprise as New Handler changed the settings again, very nearly missing the target but making it by muscle memory alone. Internally, Living Weapon sighed with relief. While they never wanted to make a mistake for Old Handler, making one in front of New Handler meant they’d be limping for two days but without any bruises to show for it. It kept buzzing inside them, now pulsing rather than vibrating at a steady pace, and Living Weapon felt their stomach turn. They clenched their thighs even tighter, as if it slipped out, then that would have them being tied to New Handler’s bed for three days, and they couldn’t do that again, they just couldn’t. They thought the pain they’d endured when they’d first been chosen as a Living Weapon had been the absolute worst they could’ve ever gone through, but they’d been wrong, so wrong, and Living Weapon would do anything to make sure they never went through it again.
Behind them, New Handler chuckled, and Living Weapon didn’t have to turn around in order to see the lecherous smile on New Hander’s face. Old Handler had never worn such a smile, never made Living Weapon’s stomach twist and tear itself apart, even when they were upset at Living Weapon for making a mistake. Mistakes had to be punished of course, otherwise Living Weapon wouldn’t learn, but perfection was rewarded with something Living Weapon actually enjoyed. Extra time at the shooting range, a new dagger or handgun, even being allowed to lay their head on Old Handler’s lap to sleep for a little while.
Living Weapon grit their teeth and forced themselves to focus even harder on their targets. Missing Old Handler would cause them to get distracted, and that was unacceptable.
“That’s enough, toy.” New Handler snapped, and Living Weapon bit their lip hard to contain their whimper. “Come here and finish me off.”
Living Weapon holstered their firearm, and walked to New Handler, kneeling in front of them, between their legs. Living Weapon’s mouth opened without having to be told, and soon enough, New Handler was sliding in.
“That’s a good little sex-toy.” New Handler moaned, pushing themselves so deep down Living Weapon’s throat that their lips were pressing against New Handler’s hips. “It’s like you were made for me, toy. You’re just the right size, and you look so good like this.”
Living Weapon kept absolutely still, barely able to breathe through their nose, and New Handler began to thrust in and out of their mouth. They began to feel detached from their body, from the world, their mind becoming empty as New Handler continued.
Suddenly a hand yanked hard on their hair, and frantically Living Weapon’s eyes came to New Handler’s.
“Stay focused, you stupid sex-toy.” New Handler growled, their thrusts becoming rougher and faster. Living Weapon’s fingernails dug into the palm of their hands to keep themselves from gagging. “I don’t care how your old handler had you work on them, but for me, you keep goddamned focused on me. Got it?”
They instinctively accepted the order with a salute before jerking their arm back down into place, needing the pain coming from their hands to help control their gag reflex.
Living Weapon wanted to say that Old Handler never had them ‘work’ on them, that Old Handler never put anything inside them that made their body react with a feeling they didn’t understand and didn’t want, that Old Handler was better at their job than New Handler ever could be. But they couldn’t, and not just because their mouth was currently occupied. If Living Weapon lashed out at New Handler, New Handler might not give them back to Old Handler when they came back. Living Weapon existed to serve Old Handler, so they had to do whatever it took to get back to them.
So Living Weapon just forced their mouth open wider, and hid their disgust when New Handler’s lecherous smile returned.
