Preon stared at her communicator. Eradas hadn’t sent any new details for over a week, and she feared the worst.

She had been sending any information that she could dig up about the “Kennel” program. Pyralis had brought it up after the mission, something Elara had been worried about.

“Hound.” The word kept coming up in Eradas’ search. She had heard tales of a captured rebel on base. There was only one Rebel recently missing in action. Elara. She was digging into the Kennel program, and she had likely been caught.

Preon had sacrificed the base’s best intelligence operative for this. Years of immersing herself into Imperial ranks had been spent, burnt for rumors.

It was enough, though. Preon was sure that Elara was wearing those arms.

They had disconnected roughly five hours ago, and she saw a new device pinging her system. Polling it for Pyralis’ heart rate. The arms reconnected a few hours later.

Elara had to be alive. Preon hesitated, wondering if she should tell anybody else on base. They’d go into a frenzy. Everybody was still licking their wounds after the loss, and they weren’t in any kind of shape for a frontal assault. Imperial pilots still outnumbered them tenfold.

Pyralis. Should she tell her? Preon saw how she was progressing, finally going out on recon, getting closer with other pilots now. She’d throw herself into a suicide mission if she knew Elara was alive.

Preon considered using the heart rate monitoring system to send a message to Elara. It tracked Pyr’s pulse with a number, which she could override. She didn’t have a way of getting a message back, though. There wasn’t a point. Odds were, all she would do is expose the vulnerability for no reason.

It would be better for everyone if she kept it a secret, right? There was no chance of saving Elara. Pyralis would get herself killed if she knew. The rest of the base couldn’t take the morale blow of their Commander being held in enemy territory.

Elara was alive. Heavily guarded in the Imperial base, presumably. Preon had to move on. Elara was unreachable where she was. There was little point. She was as good as dead, as far as anybody was concerned. Probably sharing the same fate as Eradas, now.

Preon would have to tell Rhine that Eradas was likely captured, or already dead.

===

Elara stood in front of Handler, drool leaking out of her mouth. She had done good. Elara had shown she was worth Handler’s love.

“Hello, Elara. You did quite well for your first assignment.”

Elara drank in the praise. She had done so well. Elara had pushed so hard for Handler and Handler loved her.

Handler smiled, spreading joy through Elara’s body. “I’m proud, little bird. We’ll make a fine Hound of you yet.”

Yes. Elara would be a good Hound for Handler, her heart was soaring. She had made Handler proud. “I’m sorry, Handler. I q-questioned you. I told you I couldn’t do it.”

“Yet, you could. You proved yourself, Elara. You’ve been a very good dog.” Handler continued beaming that little smile at her Hound, and Elara squirmed in pleasure.

This was worth it. Everything Elara had done was worth being here. Handler had forgiven her. Pyralis would be safe, and Elara could fade away. She would be a good tool, a beautiful doll for Handler to play with. Her brain felt like it was melting in her skull, pleasure continuing to wrack her body.

She is a good dog. She is a beautiful little lark, and Handler is putting her to good use. Handler burns with such a beautiful light, and Elara is blinded by her radiance. She would melt and break for Handler if it made her happy.

“Yes, Handler.” Elara did her best to not slur the words as she leaked into her pilot’s suit. She was shaking, needy. Begging.

“Come, Elara. You deserve a little reward,” Handler says.

Elara is by Handler’s side in the blink of an eye, staring up into her eyes. She is graced with her presence. This is reward enough. She yearns for more, to be closer, knowing that it is more than she deserves. Her eyes glaze over as Handler places a hand on her head.

She can feel herself shaking as Handler runs her gloved hand through her hair. This is her confirmation that she made the right choice. This was worth it all. Elara would kill a hundred more just to be here. She felt as Handler began lightly scratching her head, and she imagined Handler’s hands rummaging through her mind. Every part of her belonged to Handler, and she continued leaking at the thought of Handler touching her so closely.

Handler was so beautiful, her touch more potent than the brightest sunshine. This was what heaven was, Elara decided. Handler’s eyes held so much love for her, bursting out and spreading through Elara’s body.

Elara felt as the hand left her head, leaning towards where it had gone. Her mind had gone blank, a dumb smile plastered on her face. An obvious wet spot had formed on her pilot’s suit.

“Down, Elara.” Elara fell to the ground, on her knees at Handler’s side. Handler stepped back, Elara’s eyes lazily following her. She whined, begging for release, for more of Handler’s attention.

Handler crouched down, and clicked her tongue. Elara quickly snapped out of her stupor. Handler wanted her attention. She would be a good tool.

“On your paws, Callisto,” Handler said. She still had that wicked smile on her face, drinking in Elara’s need.

Elara fell to her paws, now on all fours. She let out a whimper, still staring at Handler.

“Come here.” Handler continued watching as Elara crawled over on her paws, looking down at the pathetic dog in front of her. Her dog.

A hand quickly grabbed Elara by the throat, as she fell backwards. Handler was showing who was in charge, although Elara hardly needed a reminder. Elara whined, as Handler rested a knee on her stomach, crushing her into the floor. The hand on her neck tightened.

Elara let out a whimper, feeling her heart sink in her chest. Was this a punishment? Did Handler just want to play with her?

“Don’t be afraid, pup. You’ve been so good for me.” Handler set her foot down between Elara’s legs, shifting her knee up to rest in the middle of her chest. Elara felt herself grow wetter at the touch to her crotch, yelping out for breath as Handler squeezed her windpipe.

The soft and beautiful light that surrounded Handler had turned into brimstone, burning Elara as she cried out. She bucked her hips into Handler’s boot, her eyes rolling up as she was overwhelmed with pleasure.

She heard Handler whisper into her ear, “Claim your reward, my little monster. Scream if you think anybody will hear, come to save you.”

Elara continued slamming her hips into Handler’s foot, howling out. She immediately regretted the decision, as Handler constricted her hands tighter, Elara did her best to eke out a gasp of air, feeling her lungs burn.

She was reminded of her last ‘play’ session with Thalia, except Handler’s embrace was so much warmer, filled with so much more love. Thalia pushed her until she broke, but Handler loved her, she was being put back together, piece by piece. Elara’s vision began to blur, and she felt Handler release the pressure a bit, and she gasped for air. She spasmed against Handler’s boot, howling and coughing.

Handler’s touch felt like a branding iron against her neck, marking her property. Elara savored the feeling, embracing every last drop of Handler’s will. She was a toy, a tool, something to be salvaged. Handler would craft her into something beautiful.

As soon as Elara had caught her breath, Handler pressed harder again, cutting off airflow. Elara willed her arms still, letting Handler have her way with her. Thalia had bound them, afraid of her. Handler knew that Elara would never hurt her.

Handler seemed to notice Elara holding back, and let out a low growl. “Go on, struggle if you can.” Handler dared Elara to fight back, to display just how weak she was in the face of Handler’s might.

Elara brought her arms inwards, doing her best to push against Handler’s arms, locked tight around her neck. She couldn’t grab them, her paws lacking a thumb. She flailed her arms against Handler, beginning to convulse again as she ran through whatever oxygen was left in her lungs.

She felt as Handler released some pressure again, and greedily gulped in air while she could. She screamed out a “Thank you” before her airway was closed again, and Elara shuddered as she pressed her hips deeper into Handler’s calf. Elara could feel her orgasm growing close, humping against Handler more vigorously as her arms went limp.

Handler kicked Elara in the crotch, the pain radiating up through her body as she did her best to scream, tears falling down the side of her face. She was perfect for her Handler.

Elara continued to lightly hump Handler as she neared her precipice. Almost all of her energy had been spent, and she couldn’t see straight. Elara’s back arched as she came in Handler’s grasp, still unable to breathe. Handler didn’t let go this time, as Elara blacked out.

===

Handler stood, staring at the crumpled up Hound on the floor in front of her. It had passed out from the lack of oxygen, and was sleeping soundly.

She wiped off her boot against the side of Elara’s unconscious form. It wouldn’t do to walk around base with a slick shoe.

Handler tapped her communicator. “Hail, please see me in my office.”

===

Thalia slipped into Handler’s office, saluting as she saw Handler sitting at her desk. “You called, ma’am?”

She saw Elara- or, what remained of Elara kneeling at the side of Handler’s desk. Her eyes were glazed over, and she had a thousand yard stare. Thalia wasn’t sure it could even tell that she had walked in.

Bruises painted her neck, wrapping around the front like a collar. Her entire crotch region was soaked, but none of it seemed to faze her. That wasn’t Elara.

Hound.

Handler nodded, writing away at some paperwork on her desk.

“Very good work as of late. Mind my asking where this surge of energy has come from? Just a few months ago you were sulking around base, a second rate engineer.” Handler didn’t even look up as she spoke.

She was right, of course. Thalia had only recently begun working on mechs again, as per her special request to Handler. Thalia was now the main tech in charge of Elara and the Moonrise.

“I felt it would be best for her training, Madam. Nobody is more eager than me to watch the great Commander Callisto fall from grace.” Thalia was lying through her teeth, hoping Handler wouldn’t notice. She had actually grown quite fond of her little ‘Ellie’.

Handler finally paused from her work, eyeing Thalia. She squinted at Thalia, burrowing into her soul with her gaze.

“Still holding your grudge, then?” Handler commented.

Thalia nodded, eager for a way out of the conversation.

“If you still hated her, I doubt you’d have gone out of your way to make those additions to the Moonrise. You certainly weren’t told to do that by me. You’re putting in a lot of work for someone you hate.” Handler sounded unconvinced by Thalia’s reasoning, continuing to stare in her direction.

She quickly thought of an excuse. “If she dies on the battlefield, it would mean losing the opportunity to punish her further.” A bead of sweat ran down Thalia’s forehead.

“Besides, I thought if I did some extra work, it wouldn’t hurt your opinion of me. Can’t hurt to stay on your good side.” Thalia added. Of course, there was absolutely a downside to staying on Handler’s good side. Elara was a fine example of that.

Handler nodded, conceding that point. “The same reason as the other techs, then. You just want your favorite toy to come home safe.”

Thalia breathed a sigh of relief, but Handler continued.

“One more thing, soldier. Why do you treat her with such kindness? You know as well as I do that this whole base is under surveillance.”

She didn’t, did she? Thalia thought she was treating Elara like the dog she was, a mutt. “I don’t know what you mean, ma’am.”

“I’m referring to your little ‘Ellie’,” Handler replied.

Thalia’s blood ran cold. That wasn’t really Elara anymore, was it? She was a puppy, innocent. Thalia couldn’t bring herself to hurt her, not when she looked like that, when she was so blissful.

“With all due respect, Handler, I’m not one to kick a puppy. I don’t take pleasure in getting revenge on somebody who can barely understand what I’m saying.” The revenge these days was getting tiring anyways. Maxine had forgiven Elara, right? Thalia had lost the rush of breaking in Elara, and it felt as if she was beating a dead horse.

Handler didn’t visibly react, contemplating Thalia’s answer. “Getting sympathetic on me, Hail?”

She eyed Elara, still kneeling, her mind blank. Thalia did feel a little bad for what had happened to her, the thought of her own mind ever going down the same path made her shiver. It was like watching a corpse dance.

“No. Of course not. All rebels are deviants that need to be tamed or put down, miss.” She recited the motto she had learned during training. Thalia didn’t exactly believe in it, her sister having come dangerously close to defecting, but it had been drilled in all the same.

Tap.

Handler lightly knocked her pen against the table, stirring Hound from its trance. Elara stood, her eyes now transfixed on the pen. Thalia readied herself to run out of the room, should Handler decide her answer wasn’t up to par. She eyes Handler’s face, still revealing nothing of her thoughts.

“Prove yourself, Hail. Show me you have no sympathy for the thing in front of you. I haven’t been a personal witness to one of your play sessions before, and I’d like to see how effective they really are.”

Tap.

Tap.

Hound turned its attention to Thalia, tensing its body as it kneeled, presenting Elara’s body to her.

Thalia steeled herself, shaking her head no. “This is hardly similar to my play sessions, Handler. This is more like fucking a corpse. There isn’t anything to gain from punishing it, and frankly it’s rather distasteful.” Her mouth tasted bitter, and she could feel adrenaline pump through her blood.

Finally, Handler’s expression changes. She wore a light smile now, leaning back in her chair. It creaks under her weight, as she relaxes. Thalia wishes she could do the same. “Of course, Thalia.” The name creeped out of her mouth like sludge. “Off leash.”

All at once, Hound is buried under the weight of Elara, its eyes filling with regret and realization of where she is. She looks around confused, before focusing on Thalia.

This is sick. Thalia wants to run out of here and heave up her insides in the nearest bathroom. Elara didn’t deserve this today. She had been put through more than enough. She couldn’t do this.

Handler spoke again, a hint of amusement slipping into her voice. “Speaking of fucking corpses, Thalia. I’ve noticed you’ve never actually fucked Elara here, have you? I’m sure she’d appreciate the experience.”

Elara’s eyes widened, and Thalia could see as she lightly shook her head from side to side. She didn’t want this. Thalia didn’t want this.

“I don’t fuck dogs, ma’am. That’s bestiality.” Thalia grabbed at the easy excuse, knowing that Handler herself would never lower herself to that level.

Handler didn’t seem bothered by the opposition, continuing to relax in her seat. “Hardly a dog here, Hail. Let’s ask her ourselves. What are you, Elara?”

Thalia watched as Elara squirmed, struggling to find an answer. Elara knew that if she agreed with Handler here, she would likely have to get raped by Thalia. On the other hand, disagreeing would likely upset her goddess, along with the fact that she would have to admit that she was a dog. That she wasn’t just a tool, or thing to be used. She was simply a Hound that followed her master’s commands.

“I’m a tool, miss. Nothing but your weapon to wield,” Elara answered softly. She looked up into Thalia’s eyes, almost begging for her to leave, to spare her.

Thalia of course knew Elara hadn’t really fucked anybody since she was taken from the Moonrise. She had been tortured, as Thalia remembered shoving her blade up her vaginal implant, but never really used. Only ever getting as far as grinding on Handler or Thalia, forced to give in and submit to her own needs. Never had that ripped away from her.

Even when Thalia had first broken her, she hadn’t ever really fought back. Thalia wondered if she was capable of fighting back now, capable of begging for mercy.

That night had been a mistake. She was angry. She wanted to punish Elara for killing her sister, in the worst way she could. It was wrong. She lashed out and went too far. Last time? Elara had begged for it. Asked for Thalia to give her release.

Handler spoke again. “Go on, you heard it yourself. She’s a tool to be used. Use her, Hail.”

“I-I’m not in the mood right now, miss. I-” Thalia was cut off.

“It wasn’t a request, soldier. Break her in. This is a job. The job you so eloquently requested from me. You wanted to be a part of this, did you not?” Handler sounded annoyed now, beginning to sit up.

Of course, Thalia had wanted this, but she hadn’t been thinking straight. She wanted to punish the monster that killed her sister, but what stood in front of her was hardly that. Monsters didn’t regret their decisions. They didn’t cry over their victims. Elara had made a mistake.

Thalia nodded, and did her best to shove down her feelings. This wasn’t her choice. It wasn’t her fault what she was about to do to Elara.

“Strip, mutt.” She didn’t recognize her own voice anymore. This wasn’t her.

Elara let out a whimper, as she slipped out of her dirty pilot suit. She continued staring at Thalia, begging with that pathetic look on her face.

Sorry, Ellie.