Work Text:
We both have our rabid hearts
Feral from the very start
-St. Vincent
And no kinds of love are better than others
-Lou Reed
You arrive home from work, exhausted. As is customary, you’re pounced on by seven all-too-eager huskies as soon as you clear the doorway: Tiramisu, Cream Puff, Kolach, Mochi, Mooncake, Churro, and Mtn Dew Code Red. You wish you could reciprocate, but you’re just too tired, too anxious. They take it easy on you and prematurely end their assault, scattering about the couch and floor.
And then, you hear from the kitchen, Her voice:
“How was work, darling?”
You wish you could respond. You try to form the words in your head, but you just can’t. You’re too debilitated, too stressed. But your anxiety only grows worse, feeding back into itself. You don’t want to make your Owner fret over your well-being either. You don’t want Her to worry– but your train of thought crashes as you look up and see Her standing at the end of the room.
Makima.
She stands tall and attentive, hands clasped behind Her back. She’s still dressed in Her work attire: slacks and a slightly-wrinkled white button-down shirt. Her crimson hair remains pulled in a French braid, aside from Her loose bangs that frame Her Venusesque face.The only sign that She’s off-duty is the slight loosening of the black tie around Her unbuttoned shirt collar, and the fact that She’s just wearing socks. You see Her spiraling amber eyes and Her gentle smile, and feel just a little less worrisome. Just a little.
You sigh. “I… I don’t know,” you say. “It’s not that it went bad, but… I feel so anxious about it. I constantly feel uneasy, like it’s only seconds until my superiors find out some dark secret I didn’t know I was hiding, and it all falls apart.”
She tilts Her head, keeping Her eyes locked onto yours.
“Oh, sweet Y/N, I’m sorry you feel this way. Someone as adorable as you doesn’t deserve to feel so bad.” Even just hearing Her delicate voice helps to calm you.
“I hope you can keep it in mind, however, that your employers are simply that. They pay you for your time, and if they’re dissatisfied with what they get, then that’s their issue. Frankly, I would love it if my puppy had more time to stay home with me, but I realize how important it is to you to find your way in the world on your own two feet. Honestly, I find it very admirable.” She giggles. “No matter how often I ask, you won’t even let me use my ability to help your employers see things a bit more my way. I like that tenacity about you, pup. I think you deserve some playtime to help you unwind.”
Your face immediately flushes red. She slowly walks across the living room to you, keeping Her eyes locked firmly to yours. She gently slides Her hand under your chin, and you feel your legs grow weak.
“I’ll reiterate. Your employers simply pay you for a job. I, alone, own you.”
You wish you were an insect, preserved for all eternity in Her spiraling amber eyes. She leans in close to whisper into your ear, while softly placing Her other hand atop your head.
“You know, I could just use my power and command you to feel happy.” She softly presses down on your head and you immediately acquiesce, dropping to your knees. You direct your gaze upwards, keeping an unwavering focus on Her eyes, losing yourself in those many rings. “But it’s so much more special when you obey of your own accord. For both of us. I’m truly glad you taught me this, pet.” You can tell how much She savors the words as She bares Her teeth in a near-feral smile. “Y/N, my beloved pet.”
You suddenly feel a pressure in your chest, and reluctantly break eye contact with Makima to look down. A chain extends from your flesh, through your shirt, even, and winds on the floor in circles around you and Makima. The other end runs up along Makima’s legs, connecting just below Her waist. She gathers an arm’s length of the chain…
“Of course, a little bit of my power here and there can certainly help…” She yanks the chain, bringing your upper body down with it. On all fours, you aren’t too unlike the huskies scattered about the living room; Cream Puff sits, eyes-closed, on the couch, while Tiramisu, Mochi, Mooncake, and Mtn Dew Code Red all vie to be the first to lick your face. Churro lets out a fairly adorable yawn from the corner but right now, you have Miss Makima’s full attention.
“Stay.”
Just as quickly as it had appeared, the phantom chain vanishes. Makima pulls away from you, leaving you in the middle of the floor with the other dogs, who lie down around you. She sits on the couch, gently enough so as to not interrupt Cream Puff’s nap, and crosses Her legs and places Her chin on Her hand, as if in deep contemplation.
“Now, what shall I have you do for me, doggy? Let’s start with something simple. Bark.”
The words have barely left Her mouth and you immediately comply.
“Woof! Woof!”
Of course, there are five other barking dogs piling on top of you that Makima forgot to consider. A brief touch of red flickers across Her face as the apartment is filled with the noise of eager canines – anybody else wouldn’t have noticed a thing, but you’ve come to know Her well enough to recognize the subtler aspects of Her personality just underneath Her poised exterior.
“Quiet.” She lets out something between a sigh and a chuckle as the seven huskies cease their barking and stare at Makima, their eyes and mouths wide open. Your tongue isn’t sticking out, but otherwise you aren’t much different.
“Lie down.”
You, as well as the others, stretch out flat across your stomach. Makima directs Her gaze at them in turn; “Tiramisu, Kolach, Mochi, Mooncake, and Mtn Dew Code Red, you can rest and sleep.” She turns Her gaze back towards you. You feel exhilaratingly helpless as the dogs scatter to the corners of the room.
“Y/N, crawl towards me.”
You inch yourself forward until your forehead touches against the base of the couch. Makima lightly presses a foot onto your back, exerting just enough force for the pleasures of submission to rush through your head before She lifts it back up.
“Roll over, and prop your head up against the couch.” You do as She says, and are rewarded with that treasured pair of words: “Good dog.”
It isn’t so much a rush of pleasure that courses through you, but a fog of contentment, starting in your ears and propagating deceptively fast. It envelops your mind in a blissful haze, before traveling down your spinal column and through your bones, your veins, each and every nerve up to the surface of your skin.
“You know,” Makima begins, as She unravels the tie around Her neck, “a very special dog deserves a very special collar. And you are a very special dog, aren’t you?”
“Woof!”
“Yes you are! Mommy’s favorite pet. Hold still for me, my sweet.” And you feel the silk run around your neck, tightening as She brings the two ends together and ties them into a simple bow. “Does that feel alright, pup?”
“Woof!”
“I’m glad. It looks so adorable on you.”
As She runs Her hands through your hair, rubbing your scalp, you feel all the worries and pressures of the day melt away. All thoughts, away. All that remains, and all that matters, is Makima.
“Feeling better, pup?”
You nod and try to articulate a response, but you’re too far deep into this trance to form a coherent word. Try as you might, all that leaves your mouth are murmurs of bliss.
Makima giggles. “Don’t strain yourself, pup.” She curls Her thumb into your mouth and, without even thinking, you press your teeth down, just hard enough without causing any pain. Indeed, you know that, if the lights were off, She would know you by bite alone. You are thankful for the many hours Makima spent conditioning you to respond to Her thumb, just like a well-trained dog.
“I know how much you like submitting to me. Want to know something that will make you happy? I haven’t once used my power since sitting on this couch. It’s all you, darling.”
Makima pulls Her thumb from your mouth and single-handedly lifts you up onto the couch as if you were an oversized teddy bear. Barely fazed, you only stare slack-jawed at the woman before you; at Her beautiful blood-red hair, at Her eyes still glowing with intensity. You cannot speak, much less think. Only a few half-formed thoughts rattle around in your blissfully empty head.
Obey
Makima
Pet
Love
Makima
Love
Makima
She smiles at you. A gentle, knowing smile – knowing in the way you’ve always wanted to be known, wanted to be understood, wanted to be accepted. A smile radiating unconditional love.
You struggle to keep your eyelids open – not that it’d be a bad thing to fall asleep in the presence of your Love, but you feel the overwhelming need to keep looking into Her eyes, to continue losing yourself to Her. You try to keep your head upright on your neck, but it's clearly a losing battle. Before you collapse, Makima reaches out and pulls you by the tie-collar until your nape is in reach. Grabbing the back of your neck, She presses your head firmly against Her breast, tight enough so that you can hear — so that you can feel — the steady rhythm of Her heartbeat.
-thump- -thump-
Makima
-thump- -thump-
Your own heart, throbbing in your head, rapidly beats polyrhythms against Hers:
-thumpthu- -thuthumpmp-
Good dog
-thumthumpp- -ththumpump-
All you feel, all you hear, all you see
-thumpump- -thuthump-
Makima
-thumpthu- -thuthumpmp-
You wish you could taste
-thump- -thump-
Makima
“Breath deeply for me, pup. Time your breaths with my heartbeat, and focus on my voice. Focus on my voice, and simply let go. Good job. I’m so proud of you.”
Makima pulls your head up from Her chest to Her waiting lips and She wastes no time staking Her claim over you. Her tongue pushes in every direction, along your teeth, upon your own tongue, even, helpless and blissfully overwhelmed by Her. All this belongs to Makima. She delves deeper and deeper, daring to part from you only for the occasional breath. After a brief eternity, She retracts, savoring the kiss for one last moment before finally, slowly, pulling away, panting, strands of saliva extending between your mouths as you whimper with pleasure.
Taking a few deep breaths to calm Herself, She rests your head in Her lap, wiping away the remnants of spittle from the corners of your mouth. She hums a gentle lullaby and strokes your hair.
“It’s okay, pup. I’m here with you. You can close your eyes and relax. Yes, just like that. Stay here with me, and sleep. Sleep and dream of Me, pup. When you wake, we can have dinner together and, who knows, maybe even a movie date…”
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You wake to the sizzling of food from the kitchen, and yet another unexpected pressure in your chest. Bending your head up, you see that Cream Puff has deemed you a comfortable bed on which to continue her nap. As you shift, she scampers off but not before giving your face a few wake-up licks. Outside, the first few stars shimmer through the indigo dusk. Most of the dogs have gathered near the great window at the end of the living room, either to watch the motion of the city or simply for each other's extra warmth. You reach out to pet the shifting clump of fur, to the sound of many happy woofs.
“I’m almost a little jealous.” You turn to your left, towards the kitchen, and Makima stands in the doorway. She has changed Her (admittedly very hot) business attire for a (equally hot) black satin nightgown that gracefully flows just past Her knees, while Her unbraided hair rests upon Her shoulders. As always, your heart flutters at the sight of Her. “Of course, I’m glad all my pets get along so nicely.” She playfully smiles at you as Her hands join yours in ruffling the pile of dog fur. “Dinner’s just about ready. You should go and change into something comfy. I think we’ve both earned a night of pure, undivided attention from the other, so I’m not letting you leave my sight once we start eating.
You agree, and head towards the bedroom after a smooch on Makima’s cheek. A pair of pajamas Makima bought for you lies neatly folded on the corner of the bed. You undo the tie still wrapped around your neck and rub the larger end against your face, savoring Makima’s sweet lingering scent, something between roses and fresh crêpes. Once you’re satisfied, you carefully lay the tie down upon your pillow like the sacred artifact it is.
You quickly shower, dry yourself off, and put on the pajamas She had left out for you. Brushing your hair, you notice a single red hair caught in the brush’s teeth; Makima likes a tidy home, but you don’t like the idea of tossing away such a treasure, and so you tuck the lock into your pocket for safe-keeping. As you walk toward the bedroom door, your eye catches the black tie you had left on the pillow. Grabbing it, you dutifully return to the bathroom mirror and carefully tie it around your neck, proud to wear the collar for your Master.
Opening the bedroom door, Mtn Dew Code Red greets you with an excited yawp before scampering down the hallway to the kitchen. At the base of the dining table are the seven dogs, each eating from their own calligraphed bowl, but She isn’t here. You look past the table, out of the sliding glass door through which you can see the night sky, lit up by the lights of the city and distant blinking communications towers.
In an instant, flickering candle light illuminates the balcony. Makima’s eyes are locked to yours. They’d been locked to yours since you entered the kitchen. She makes you feel desired in ways nobody else ever has.
You slide open the door and sit across from Her. “There’s only one bowl of noodles?”
She chuckles. “What’s the confusion, darling? You’re not worried about germs, are you? I find that hard to believe, especially after your performance earlier.” She swings Her legs up under the table, resting them on your knees. You instinctively trace circles upon Her ankle with your thumb.“I’m sure I have some blank Public Safety employee evaluation forms somewhere in the study.” She playfully winks at you. “You’d certainly get a ‘satisfactory’ rating.”
In the cool night air, you feel the heat building in your cheeks.
“Aww, you’re adorable.” She hands you a pair of chopsticks. “We’ll take turns. But I call first. Feed me.”
You lift a bundle of noodles from the bowl, and carefully deposit them in Makima’s open mouth. She chews with a satisfied grace.
“Good pet. Your turn.”
You hand Her the chopsticks.
“Say ‘ahh!'”
You open your mouth wide for Her to drop the noodles in. The evening’s dinner is udon with Thai peanut sauce. They, like everything Makima cooks, taste divine. Back and forth, you and Makima share bites, until one noodle remains. Makima presently holds the chopsticks.
“Oh my,” She says, eyeing the last noodle. “You’ve seen the movie, haven’t you? Dogs, noodles…” Her eyes shift their focus to your lips. “You see where this is going, right? My cute little dog.”
She dangles the tip of the noodle to your open mouth, before unfolding it to its full length and landing the other end in Her own. You fulfill the role, chewing down the noodle as She does the same, until your lips meet in a kiss. The kiss lasts somewhere between ten seconds and ten years, but still feels agonizingly short when Makima pulls away, setting Her index finger on your lip.
“Did you forget? We still have a movie date together.”
She puts out the candle on the balcony and leads you back inside. You begin cleaning up the kitchen while She goes to the living room, where the huskies have returned for a post-dinner nap, to make a selection. Once you’ve tidied all the dishes, you return to find Makima eagerly awaiting you on the couch. She pats the cushion besides Her.
“Come on, pup! We’ve got an exciting one tonight.”
You sit, and immediately She keels over, plopping Her head into your lap. She reaches for your hand and presses your palm into Her cheek. The movie — Inland Empire , directed by David Lynch — starts and you try to pay attention, mostly for Her, and Her inevitable post-film discussion, but you can’t help but cede all attention to the woman in your lap. As She watches the screen, you run your free hand through Her hair and trace gentle shapes along Her shoulders. During a lull in the movie, She turns Her head to look up at you. You can’t recall any time She’s taken Her vision away from a movie.
“Pup…” Nor can you recall any time you heard a waver in Her voice. She reaches up to your neck and twirls the tie-collar, still tightly fastened. You feel a chill rush of worry. What could possibly have caused your Master worry? But this fear quickly melts away into warmth as She continues.
“I didn’t even tell you to do this. You could’ve just worn the pajamas. I’m… glad.”
She reaches up and hugs you tight.
“I’m glad you understand Me. That you do this – do everything… for Me. Not some version of me in your head, and not the Control Devil, but… just Me.”
There’s only one way to respond.
“I love you, Makima.”
“I love you too, Y/N.”
Makima returns to Her spot on your lap as the movie continues. You close your eyes, and for the second time tonight, fall asleep with your love in arm’s reach.
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You wake up, feeling weightless. Makima’s arms wrap around your chest, Her legs tangled up with yours such that you can’t tell them from your own. You feel Her breaths, hear Her soft murmurs. You smell Her sweet fragrance, something you cannot replicate despite having the same shampoo. It’s one of those rare moments where you’re glad to wake up. You savor the moment, just a little while longer, then close your eyes, letting Her carry you to dreamland.