CHAPTER FIVEDOG BED

  He's walking in circles. Just walking in circles. No more, no less. To prove he still can, after having been forced to crawl to save his life about an hour ago. To try to see whether he can somehow tune out the sound of the metal rattling across the concrete floor. Maybe he can even learn to ignore the feeling of cold metal enveloping his neck, or the fact that the shackles dig into his ankles every time he takes a step, the chains between his legs too short for him to reach even a brisk walking pace.

  Just tuning out the svery feels impossible, but he might well try.

  He's walking, and somehow that feels important. In some weak, pathetic way, it feels like rebellion, if only because he’s actively trying to not be what his owner wants him to be. It's not that he wants to incite that kind of response from Celine again— he just doesn't want to completely lose himself to her either.

  The humiliation of having to pray for her forgiveness was intense enough in itself, but the aftermath even more so. It felt like a particurly bad hangover, or coming down from an upper, or both at the same time, whilst also being sleep deprived and told to come into a shitty underpaid fast food job on the same day, getting yelled at by random customers compining that they got the wrong burger, like there's some kind of difference in the slop they're being fed and that this difference justifies yelling at a 18 year old making a dolr an hour above the city’s minimum wage.

  That is, he really didn't want to get out of bed — or in this case, off the floor — but he has to, for his own sake. The realisation that he's giving himself up like that to the woman just three days into a lifetime of svery just makes him want to appreciate the things Iffy could do as of his own free will. Indulge in them. To be kind of zy, be kind of dumb, be kind of impulsive. Equally, it is to be fun, chatty, always up for a party. To be a friend. Not that he'd always been a decent friend, God knows he wasn't, but at least he got to be one back then.

  To be the free anarchist boy called Iffy whilst he still can. Because at this rate, he’s not going to st very long. He’ll be Esmée before he knows it. Who knows if he can go back to his old personality by then.

  Pretend to be that for just a fleeting moment, until he can hear the heavy lock of the door cycling again. He gets down on the floor for a short, panicked moment, knowing the woman on the other side of the door would—

  Not be there? Instead, all he sees is Elo?se. Again.

  Of course it would just be her. Celine had said something along those lines alongside the only words he could care about in that fleeting moment where he thought he would die. Elo?se would pick him up and take him to his new bedroom. Somehow he doubts Celine’s definition of bedroom and his own align in any way beyond it being a room where one can, theoretically sleep if they try really hard to do so. Knowing her, it probably has spikes, va and like, a fucking alligator.

  Meanwhile, in reality nd, Elo?se is just standing there with a set of keys in her hands and the controller to a shock colr around her wrist, looking like a small, harmless girl who had somehow become both a prison guard and a sve. She's dressed like it too, wearing a white summer dress covered in pastel-coloured flowers, held up only by thin straps across her shoulders. It exposes her dainty stature more than most other styles would, as well as both emphasising and contrasting with the colr around her neck. One wouldn't think that this is the kind of person who'd be responsible for murder of some kind in the past. She’s too cute for that. Yet she’s very much colred, and her body nguage alone portrays someone who is used to looking as submissive as possible.

  That is, Iffy guesses, the whole point. Celine said she wanted him to look like a tamed murderer. Elo?se is selling that idea and then some. It's a point that is better made when she's on her knees next to Celine and being pet compared to when she’s in possession of a weapon.

  There's something about the way she looks at him that makes him feel less at ease, something about the way she holds on to the keys. She almost looks confident, or at least determined.

  More importantly though, she doesn’t look happy, not in the way he's usually seen her be before. He's pretty sure he knows exactly what's making her feel that way— who's making her feel that way. It’s obvious that she isn’t a fan of his from the way she’s gone out of her way to ignore him as much as possible. Yet, Celine decided that they’ll have to put up with each other for now, and he can only hope that Elo?se acts like a normal fucking person for once.

  Elo?se performatively coughs and jingles the keys.

  "You don't have to taunt me, you know." Iffy says, already thoroughly done with the other sve's nonsense. He can see that she is in charge right now. Frankly, after the show he had to put on earlier he isn’t exactly feeling up to instantly submitting to Celine’s favourite sve just because she thinks she’s better than him.

  "Taunt?" Elo?se looks at him surprised, softening up and blushing a little. "Esmée... I meant you should get on your knees and face the wall. Basic non-verbal communication— I need to get to your shackles."

  Iffy crosses his arms, annoyed. Why is Elo?se so stuck-up, so eager to make him look like a fool? Why can’t she just communicate things more clearly? Does everything have to be a riddle around here? "How the fuck am I supposed to know that?"

  "Language, young dy." She says before looking him over for a second, assessing him for something or another. "Didn't they teach you this in jail?"

  "They didn't teach me shit in prison. Just kept me in isotion the whole time."

  "...right. It’s something I still remember from my time there, but I do suppose it’s been fifteen years, and you’re from somewhere innd…" Elo?se shakes her head at that. Something about the way she said ‘innd’ gives him the impression that she doesn’t have a very high opinion of the midwest. "If you would please just do as I told you—"

  "Why should I?" He sneers. "You're just as much of a sve as me, you know. We could just get along like we’re normal people, but no— you have to pretend a few years of experience leaves you all high and mighty. You can either treat me like an equal or leave me alone, but I’m not just going to do as you say."

  Elo?se takes a long step back, hand hovering near the controller around her wrist, watching Iffy with nothing but shock and anger in her eyes. "Esmée... you lied to Master?" She whispers, as if it’s the greatest crime in the world.

  "What?" Now it's Iffy's turn to be confused. "I lied? How, exactly?"

  "You know exactly what you did." Elo?se says, her voice shaky, anxious. Everything about her is uncertain, most especially her ring finger, hovering over the button on the controller. If the sve wanted to establish authority, this particur show does absolutely nothing to help her case.

  She eyes him for what feels like forever, clearly more stuck in debate with herself than someone in her position ought to be. Slowly but surely, her gre softens, her finger rexes. "You— You really don't know, do you? Master did say you seemed like you were dissociating by the end, but…"

  "No." Iffy admits. He doesn’t particurly want to, not now that he has some kind of advantage over Elo?se, but some part of him doesn’t really want to fight her anymore now that he knows she isn’t a threat. Even if she’s still really aggravating. "Could you please expin?"

  "Master told me that you didn't know anything about being a sve, but that you wanted to learn." Elo?se’s eyes are fixed to the floor in front of her, left hand holding her right wrist, keys hanging limply in her hands. It’s an obviously submissive pose. Iffy isn’t sure why Elo?se has taken up this position in particur— if she’s supposed to show the strength to keep him under her control, this is about as obvious a failure as one could imagine. "She told me that she wanted me to teach you about the rules, house rules and some basic positions, and that she had ordered you to obey me like you would obey her so I could perform my duties as ordered. It seems like you may have missed that part in your dissociation?"

  Iffy vaguely remembers some words to that effect, but the entire conversation he had with Celine an hour or so ago had long dissipated from his mind. He’ll take the excuse though, if only because it seems to be stopping her from using the shock colr.

  Elo?se is on a roll, though, and well on-track to making Iffy realise why there’s a rule that sves have to stay silent, at least within the Foret household. "When I give you orders, I do so on behalf of Master. When you refuse those orders, it's like you refuse hers. Or to put it in more precise terms— I, as her sve, am nothing but an instrument of my owner. I have been molded into that shape over the years to ensure that I can serve in such a role. Her desires and my desires are one and the same, as my sole desire — my existential purpose — is fulfilling her every want and need, conscious and unconscious. I must understand each of them; she must trust that I do; and she must trust that I will act upon her desires, even in her absence. Master has so generously decided that such trust can be pced in me and believes that I can act as an effective extension of her will. That is not to say that I will make the exact same judgments as she would — there are some things better left to our superiors, so I must act with the knowledge that I am an inferior, meaning I am not allowed to perform certain acts — but Master believes that I would decide in a way that pleases her, and thus permits me to wield such authority in her stead.

  "Now, forgive me for putting this second part rather bluntly, as this is something that confuses many sves early on in their training. We are not just inferior to our owner— we are inferior to all free persons. Each of them holds authority over us, and we are expected to defer to them in all cases, insofar as their will does not csh with our owner’s will. With that authority comes the right to inflict limited and reasonable corrections to behaviour where swift action is needed, in respect of the owner's right to decide appropriate discipline at a ter point in time. There is an entire hierarchy to this that I will not bother you with right now— what you need to know is that, in this case, you are expected to follow my orders. Discipline might not be immediate, but it will be due. Your Master ordered you to obey me, and every refusal of my orders is a direct refusal of her overarching order, and if there’s one thing a sve is not allowed to do it’d be refusing to act upon their owner’s orders."

  Elo?se looks up at Iffy again and blushes. "I hope this cleared some things up."

  Iffy takes a moment, repying the speech in his head multiple times, trying to get anything useful out of it to draw a conclusion. "You mean I listen to your orders because she says I should."

  "That is a massive oversimplification," She warns, clearly uncomfortable due to the wording. "But yes. Kind of. It works as a purely functional conclusion, at least for now. The philosophy behind it is still important. If you would please turn around and let me unshackle you— we're not supposed to linger here, much less talk."

  Iffy doesn’t like to obey, but the offer of getting the stupid leg irons off is too good to ignore. They fucking hurt. He turns around and gets down on his knees, facing the wall.

  And then nothing happens.

  "Hands behind your back, wrists crossed." Elo?se says after just a moment. It sounds like more of a reminder than it is an order. Apparently she’s a stickler for details. Of course she is: the five minute rant about the simple concept of following orders should have been more than enough proof that she is. He does as told, and she does her job, keeping one of her hands across Iffy’s wrists for good measure— not that it matters, she’s hiriously weak. She mustn’t have done any hard bour in the fifteen years she’s been a sve.

  He starts stretching almost the second his feet are freed from their steel bindings. Elo?se, surprisingly, just gives him a rather empathetic look. But this shouldn’t be surprising either. If she’s meditating, she’s probably doing yoga too, especially if she’s going to be expected to kneel on concrete every morning.

  He’s getting distracted. If there’s one thing he can’t afford right now, it’s being distracted. It means he’s going to miss vital information, and missing such vital information leads to punishment. He really doesn’t want that shock colr to activate ever again. It makes him feel so helpless in a way that other punishments do not. He can defend himself against getting beaten, or at least try to minimise the pain. There’s no defence against being shocked.

  It reminds him of something else he doesn’t seem to have any defence against: the wrath of his owner. He really needs to ask Elo?se about something now that he still can, if only to take away the vague feeling that Celine might have been bluffing earlier today.

  "Can an owner kill their sve?"

  Elo?se flinches, not expecting the question. "What?"

  "Celine said she’d have me put down if I didn’t—"

  "You should believe her if she said so. Master is always right." Elo?se responds automatically. "End of discussion."

  "But—"

  "I said end of discussion." Elo?se repeats. She looks extremely uncomfortable at the concept even being mentioned — Iffy now realises that he did bring up something that would terrify her as well — but she’s being clearly avoidant where Iffy just wants some certainty.

  "You can just answer with yes or no."

  "Master said she can. You should believe her. You have no right to question your superiors like that."

  Iffy gets the feeling that Elo?se would just have said so if the answer was ‘yes’. He also gets the feeling that there is much more going on: the sve is too uncomfortable, too willing to cut off the conversation. She’s been a sve for so long— she shouldn’t react this harshly to basic realities of her life, right?

  "Has she ever had any sves put down?"

  "Esmée—"

  "Again, a yes or no question."

  "What makes you think that’s a remotely acceptable question to ask?" She responds, anxiety turning into anger. Notably, she’s still avoiding the question.

  "Because I would really like to know whether she can have me killed or not? That’s a very normal thing to want to know?"

  Elo?se stares at him for a moment. "You should know already. It’s in the documents you signed when agreeing to become a sve. They y out the conditions of your bondage. The restrictions are more on you than on your owner, but they are still there. Master is kind and generous and I know for a fact that she would act within the w at all times."

  "Remind me what was in the forms." He asks, even more annoyed than before. Why can’t she just ever give him a clear answer? Why does she have to be like this?

  "You would remember if you’d bothered to read it— it’s not my responsibility to do what should have been you and your wyer’s work. It’s not my fault that you didn’t do your due diligence, nor is it my duty to help resolve your crisis of faith in Master’s words. You mustn’t look to me for confirmation. You should trust her unconditionally."

  Iffy didn’t really need any more proof that Elo?se was an ally of his, but the sve provided him with an overwhelming amount regardless. She’s loyal to Celine above anything else. Celine hates him and wants to see him break, and thus so will Elo?se, in her own way. Her own pathetic way— too weak, too insecure to do it herself, she just relies on her owner to do the dirty work.

  "Follow me." Elo?se says. No, she orders it, her voice firm and insistent in a way that it hadn't been before, and Iffy just really can't take it right now, not from her.

  "No." He says, then feeling the need to add something. "Fuck you. Fuck both of you."

  Very suddenly, electricity flowed through his colr again, Elo?se shocking him much harder and much longer than Celine ever had. Iffy falls to the floor and is left grasping at his neck, panting, on the verge of consciousness.

  "You will not disrespect Master like that ever again." Elo?se says, her furore unmatched by anything he'd seen from her yet, and she'd been quite unhappy with him that first day. "I don’t care if you hate me. I am not a good person— I wouldn’t be here if I was. But I do care whether you hate Master, because she’s the greatest person I know. Because she gave me the chance to devote my life in service to her, a gift that few would ever understand but which she has so generously decided to extend to you as well. She believes you are capable and worthy of such a beautiful thing and you dare reject it? You dare insult her? Despite everything she’s offering you?"

  "She said she only kept me around because it would be amusing to watch me fail…" Iffy responds, suddenly not feeling very up to fighting Elo?se anymore. Either he’s talking to a wall or to a hysterical, sobbing mess so brainwashed into her role that she cannot rete to other people anymore. It’s not even fun to rebel against her like that. He mostly just feels sad for her.

  He’s also terrified that he will be fawning over Celine like that some day. Elo?se had once been a normal person too, after all— and this is what’s left of them. Someone twisted into believing that others should be grateful for the right to be abused the same way she is.

  Elo?se paces on the other side of the cell, practicing her breathing routine. She already looks less tense than she did barely a minute before, pying with the bracelet — the controller to his shock colr — like it was a stim toy. He hopes she doesn’t accidentally press any buttons.

  And then she did something which Iffy really didn’t expect.

  "I’m sorry." She speaks, eyes to the floor again. "You’re new to this. That’s fine, we all were at some point. I should have been more patient. I definitely shouldn’t have acted like that— it’s unbefitting of me. You’re here to learn. I’ve been trying to adjust for that, but… it’s kind of like that one xkcd I saw, like, twenty years ago. Even when compensating for it, people immersed in their fields wildly overestimate the average person’s familiarity with their field."

  "I’m making the mistake of assuming you’re working within the same rational and philosophical frameworks as me. So when you hear Master’s comments about having you put down, you don’t understand the implication that a good person — like her — would not make such a threat unless she was quite certain she would not have to act upon it, as she believes you are capable of pleasing her if you put in the effort and accept the necessary corrections when she offers them. That doesn’t mean that the threat is idle— a proper owner would always be prepared to act upon their words, which Master is. It just means that the actions you need to take to avoid it are at least theoretically possible."

  It might not be a straight answer, but it is an answer at long st. Would Celine have him put down? Probably not, as long as he behaves. She could just have said that! He doesn’t need all this deep philosophical nonsense about devotion and service or whatever. What even is the benefit of all that when they could just tell him what they want?

  Not that he has much of a choice at this point, which is the most conventionally sve-like thing that’s happened to him yet. He’s sick of the mind games already.

  More than anything, he’s just feeling exhausted thinking about it. Celine had drained him of all energy earlier, and Elo?se has successfully outmanoeuvred him by starting a discussion on philosophy rather than forcing him into submission. It’s a brave move, considering Iffy could have been an actual murderer and done something to hurt Elo?se.

  Not that he would have. That’s probably why they let him be in this position in the first pce. He wasn’t going to fight, not seriously, not right now. Not whilst he’s tired and just wants to get back to sleep.

  "We should get out of here." Elo?se comments whilst looking around the rather cold and depressing concrete cell. "Do you agree to do as you’re told for the rest of the day? It’d make everything a lot easier for both of us if you did."

  "Yeah." Iffy responds. "I’ll try."

  "Thank you." She says, exhaling and rexing her body somewhat. "Please follow me."

  Iffy gets up on his feet, just to see Elo?se look at him disapprovingly.

  "Master wants you to crawl, not walk." She expins. "That is a house rule for sves in basic training. There will be some exceptions to this rule, which I will point out as needed. Don’t worry— the first thing we’ll get to today are the house rules. Just do as I tell you for now."

  "But you're allowed to walk?" He asks. The answer is obvious, but he still wants Elo?se to feel somewhat bad about it.

  "I'm not in basic training." She says rather bluntly. She doesn’t seem to feel bad at all.

  For a moment, he feels like rebelling against this demand of theirs. It’s humiliating to be crawling behind another sve, after all. That’s the point of this. Humiliation. But he can survive humiliation. Elo?se probably won’t judge him for this in the first pce. If anything, she’ll probably be trying to sell him on the idea that it’s actually the single best thing in the universe, and that he should be grateful for the opportunity to do so. Her doing so would also mean spending more time down here, which he really doesn’t want to do. It’s cold and miserable. He just wants something to drink or to eat. He doubts he’ll get that down here.

  So he crawls after Elo?se, up the stairs. The sve slows down as they do so, giving Iffy the chance to keep up with her as he figures out how to crawl up stairs without hitting the concrete with his knees, scraping himself on the top, or letting the sharp sides of the concrete stairs cut him. He climbs up one set of stairs; then turns, then climbs up another, just for his knees to nd on—

  Carpet?

  It's a soft, somewhat thick carpet, and it covers not just what seems to be the ground floor, but the rest of the stairs too. It’s not enjoyable, but at least it’s comfortable under his knees. He’s not going to be scraping himself, at least. The carpeting continues all the way throughout the third floor, where Elo?se has been leading him all this time.

  For a second, he wonders who is the one cleaning all of this, before realising that it’s definitely Elo?se. He doesn’t know whether all floors are carpeted as extensively as this — the ground floor didn’t look like it was — but he already knows that Elo?se has a hell of a job. There’s about eight rooms on the third floor alone, and then there’s three more floors for the girl to take care of, on top of at least breakfast and likely lunch and dinner too, and training Iffy.

  It perfectly expins why she’s struggling to fully grasp his thought processes or might be a bit snappy— he’d be stressed out and permanently exhausted with that many responsibilities, especially if he’d run into himself and had to deal with the behaviour he’d shown earlier.

  Perhaps he had been a bit too much of an asshole there. She’s clearly far gone, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t being abused, or at least used for all she’s worth.

  Elo?se opens the door partitioning the third floor in two. It’s another door with a biometric security system like he'd seen in the basement. It’s somewhat interesting that she has access.

  "This is the servants' quarters." She says, closing the biometric door behind Iffy and locking it. "This is where you’re going to be spending most of your time during your basic training period."

  She starts her quick tour by pointing at the first door to Iffy’s left. "This is our bathroom. Nothing should surprise you too much there. We have a communal shower; the necessary hair products; a hair dryer; shaving supplies; towels; antiseptic wipes; those kinds of things. We also have a toilet for use only in case of emergencies, when Master isn't around to give us permission to use the ones downstairs."

  Permission to go to the toilet. Fun. It was annoying back in school, and it's surely going to be even more annoying now. The difference is that the teacher wasn’t someone who enjoyed torturing you. Most weren’t. He still remembers Ms. Willis from arts and crafts, who insisted on total silence in the cssroom as everyone boured away in pce. She definitely went into the wrong career.

  He’s getting distracted again.

  Elo?se continues to the next door, another one with a biometric lock. "This is my office. You can find me here after work and training, but before I need to start cooking dinner. Please try to disturb me as little as possible. The rooms here are soundproofed, which should help with that, so just avoid knocking on my door unless you really need me for something."

  This just confirms his theory that Elo?se does a lot of work. It also makes him realise that he’s going to have to start doing a share of that work soon enough. Then both of them will be totally overworked— two sves cannot be enough to maintain a mansion like this, right?

  The first door she actually opens is the one directly across from her office. It's a mostly empty room with an old mattress in the corner, a box filled with what looks like sex toys in another, and lit by a rge window, thick iron bars outside it, like they're stuck in prison. Which he is, really.

  "This is the pypen; this is where us sves can have fun during our time off. It's also usually where we are left during visits, especially if visitors bring other sves over, but only if we're well-behaved enough to deserve it. We have another pypen in the basement, but that one is much more tightly locked-down. That’s for the more intense py or particur forms of punishment. Feel free to look around ter— I'm sure there's a few toys there you can have fun with."

  Yeah. Sure. As if. He can see those two cameras in the corners. The room might not be unique in its camera coverage — every room and hallway he’s been in so far has been thoroughly surveilled — but there’s still zero fucking chance he’s going to py with sex toys if he’s being recorded doing so.

  Elo?se closes the door, then continues on to the room to its right, the st of the four rooms in the servants' quarters. This room is simirly locked by biometrics. "And this is your bedroom."

  Iffy looks around the room, almost completely barren except for a human-sized dog bed in the corner and a wardrobe diagonally across from it. It’s got a window like the one in the py pen, with bars behind it, and then a poster of what looks like a list of rules on the wall next to the door.

  "I sleep in the dog bed." He concludes.

  "You sleep in the dog bed." She confirms. "Don't worry, it's a good one— Master made sure it's fit for humans. It's got a bit of a mattress built in so you don't start developing back issues. It’s not as good as an actual bed, but…"

  "And you sleep…?" Iffy asks. He thinks he asks, at least, the question having been left so half-formed in his mind.

  "I sleep in Master's bedroom, in my own dog bed at the foot of her proper bed." She expins. "So you'll be alone at night, regrettably. Do you— is that an issue?"

  "No." He says. It's not an issue, and even if it was, he isn't going to tell her of all people. Of all sves? Are sves people? The fact that he's getting a dog bed clearly implies that they're not. At least not in Celine's eyes. If he had to guess, they're not human in Elo?se's eyes either, the way she’s eager to describe herself as an ‘inferior’.

  "We have a few things to get over today; we will start with the house rules, then we will touch on the CSCAA, then we will continue by describing their rules, and we will finish with basic position training. So, better go sit down somewhere comfy whilst I get a few things— we will be here for a while."

  Iffy watches Elo?se leave —regrettably closing the door behind her again — and figures out where to sit. There's just two real options: in the dog bed and outside of it.

  He tries sitting on the floor, just to figure out how it feels. And whilst it's not uncomfortable, it's not comfortable either. It feels like sitting on a thick and fluffy towel on the ground. Doable? Yes. Utilitarian? Definitely. Good for his back for what might be hours of lectures, something they apparently care about here? Not really, not unless he pushes way up against the cold wall, something his naked back really doesn't like.

  The alternative is sitting in the dog bed. He doesn't want to sit in it, not after so many humiliations in one day, but he tries to do so regardless, more out of instinct than anything. He's always been too curious for his own good. Besides, he’s going to have to sleep in it ter, so might as well lie down and try.

  Elo?se wasn't lying when she said it had a bit of a mattress. It's not so thick as to be bouncy, but it does have some give. Enough to be comfortable. It's also big enough to curl up, even having a bit of room to spare. The sides are soft, softer than anything he’s been able to y down in for the past year or so. He rests his head on the side, just to see what that would be like.

  It’s nice.

  He’s already stupidly grateful for the fucking dog bed. He may hate the fact that it’s the nicest thing he’s gotten since his arrest, but he’s not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. He gets to sleep somewhat comfortably. His life isn’t going to be 100% misery, just 99%.

  … This is going to be how they get him, isn’t it?