CW: NSFW, violence, forced nudity, forced medication, institutionalised slavery, dehumanisation, box boy universe, pet whump
The hash glare from the overhead lights glinted off the tabletop. The young man stretched out on the metal surface was completely naked. His golden-toned skin pricking with goosebumps. His every muscle taut with fear and anticipation.
The two handlers with him, the man and the woman, were both fully clothed.
The woman, dark-haired and brown-eyed, just completed her slow circle around the table.
Her tone was quiet and very calm. When the man on the table tremulously reached out to her, she took a roll of thin, dark blue sewing thread from her pocket. She methodically wrapped the end of the thread around the leg of the table and then looped it around his wrist so that his hand, palm upward, was tied to the table. A red and white tattoo of chrysanthemum flowers circled his forearm, the beautiful imagery at odds with the clinical surroundings.
Slowly circling the table once more, clockwise this time, she tied his other wrist. The WRU barcode tattoo clearly visible. Then she carefully tied down his ankles. It was as if he was bound to the table with gossamer strands.
If the young man had but twitched, the thread would instantly have broken.
She took a step back, surveying her handiwork with an air of satisfaction.
“That’s good.” She smiled. “You are doing good.”
She brushed her hand across the dark, curly hair covering his chest, gently, as if petting a cat. Then, she moved her hand down his chest in a languid caress, following the string of hair down along his rib cage, pausing to stroke her hand a few times over his flat stomach. Then, decisively, she moved further down.
The young man jerked involuntarily, his muscles trembling with the effort of keeping himself completely immobile.
She just rested her gloved hand there, between his legs. Her skin warm beneath the thin, black rubber of the glove.
He is hardly breathing. Rolling his eyes to watch her without turning his head. Fear written in every line of his face and body.
“Now,” she said, “I know you haven’t been trained for this. But, what if I wanted to have you? Or… what if my colleague here did? What would you do?”
The young man’s bottom lip shivered, his eyes glassy with tears. He swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing.
“I… I w-would do my best, Trainer Álvarez.”
”That’s good.” She nodded. “What if I asked you to break the thread that I used to tie you to the table, would you be able to do it?”
The young man blinked, clearly surprised.
“And what if I - or your future owner - would tell you that this is a magic thread, totally impossible for you to get out of. Would you be able to break it then?”
“Eh…” He looked at her, bewildered. “…no?”
“That’s right. I’m telling you that this is a magical, unbreakable thread. What is the rule? The owner…”
The pet on the table relaxed visibly. This was home ground.
“The owner is always right, Trainer Álvarez.”
“That’s right. Good boy.” Letting go, she instead reached out and cupped his cheek affectionately. The young man eagerly leaned his head to press into her touch.
With her free hand, she fished something out from her trouser pocket, holding it up for the man on the table. His dark eyes instantly fixed on the small, white pill, tension returning to the set of his jaw.
“It’s time for you to take your medicine.” She said, deceptively gently. “Now, open up, but don’t swallow yet.”
He instantly opened his mouth, dark eyes wide with fear. It was clear that resisting was not an option he even considered. He held the pill on his tongue, while she turned and took a few steps to the sink in the corner of the room. She filled a glass of water and returned to the table.
“Now you can swallow.” She said, carefully cradling his head and raising the glass of water to his lips. It was an uncomfortable position, spread-eagled like that, but her raising his head helped and he quickly swallowed the pill with the water. Afterwards, she gently lowered his head to the table.
“I want you to lay here and just relax for a while. Unbreakable thread, remember?”
The fear was back with full force in his eyes, but he nodded immediately.
The trainers fill their WRU-branded mugs from the coffee machine, a double espresso for her, an Americano for him, and watch the naked young man shivering on the table from behind the sound-isolated two-way mirror.
“I always like to teach them all the ways to take their medicine.” She explains. “Pills, liquids, eye drops, through their nose, up their bum… you get the drill. They should be fine with all of it. You never know what an owner will need or enjoy. It is also important to train in different situations, you want them to be absolutely rock solid in their ability to obey.”
“Of course. Well. Not for this one at the moment. This is a trust-building exercise, not punishment. We want him to learn the lesson that good dogs get rewarded… sometimes.”
She smiles again, this time with an edge, like a hidden knife glinting in the dark.
“Just give him that hope for ‘sometimes’. He is going to chase that high so hard. There’s no limit to what he will do.” She pauses. “Anyway. Needles, he has a bad time with those. That is something we’ll have to deal with, but this is just an exercise reinforcing focus and obedience. There’s no need for torture.”
The man nods respectfully.
“What drug did you give him?” He asks.
“It’s just a mild painkiller. Punishment pills should be reserved for special occasions only.” She takes a sip of her espresso. “They need to know that the pain is a possibility, but there’s no…” Her explanation is interrupted by the door opening.
“Hey.” The large man in a black handler uniform rolls his shoulders and stretches before stepping up to the coffee machine.
“Harris.” Trainer Álvarez nods in curt greeting.
He chooses an Americano and glances idly out the two-way mirror while waiting for the machine to finish his drink.
”I see you’re still playing your little sewing games, Gabriela. How’s that coming along for you?”
“It’s going great. Thanks, Harris.” Her tone is carefully neutral.
“Mhm… Well, I guess…” He turns and nods to the younger man. “Don’t worry, Jason. Next rotation you’ll be shadowing me, and I’m not afraid to show you the ropes of the real, hard work.”
He grabs his coffee and walks towards the door. “Later, guys.”
As soon as the heavy door falls closed behind him, trainer Álvarez scoffs.
“Jesus, he’s such a prick at all times. I’m sorry you’ll be stuck with him.”
She turns full on to face the younger man.
“Listen, Jason. You are going to meet a lot of guys like Harris here. They talk a lot and they think they are so great at their work, but actually they’re just getting off on their own fantasies of violence and domination. But really….”
She pauses and shakes her index finger back and forth in a ‘no’ gesture.
“They have no finesse. You need a light touch with this job, you might not think it, but it is true.
If you like to just break someone, his methods are just fine, but that… I think that is not enough. We should aim to create works of art.”
She gestures out at the bound man behind the glass.
“I like to send them out to love their master. Not just fear them. Jason, do you know what a golem is?”
“Ma’am?” Confusion is written all over the younger man’s face. Gabriela smiles.
“In Jewish mythology, a golem is a figure created by clay or mud. It can do tasks, but it is mindless, without a soul. That is what Harris and his ilk does. He makes the pets into empty husks. They obey, all right. But no one is home.”
She shakes her head slowly, eyes shining.
“I want to make them beautiful. When I am finished with them, they will obey, yes, but more than that, they will feel and love and desire. I don’t trample all over their hearts. I cultivate them, strictly, but carefully. It is like trimming a fruit tree, or cutting a hedge. There is violence, yes, but also gentleness. In the end, with all their being, they don’t only fear, but they yearn to please their master.”
She walks over and puts her empty mug in the dishwasher.
“Come on, it’s time. Let’s go shape our chunk of clay.”
This post has really been a long time in the making. I have had several people asking about Brutus. (Thanks for the asks! ❤️) I hope you’ll enjoy this glimpse into his past.
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