What Love Breeds

Chapter 5

"How... how is she getting settled in?" Shaw pivots.

"Alright. Her stall's almost ready, and she'll be branded by this afternoon. You wanna be there?"

"No," Shaw quickly shakes his head. "I think she could use some distance."

"She's been sleeping for most of the last two days, so she's not afraid to get some rest without you around, at least," Tommy sighs.

"That's...good." Shaw fills their glasses once more and rests his head on his desk. "Maybe the board will all want their own, personally broken sex pet. Wouldn't be the worst thing in the world, right?"

"Yeah, I'd like to see ol' Henriette Washington down and dirty."

Shaw chokes on his scotch. "What about our dear friend Albert Oppelbaum?"

Tommy coughs up his own sip. "Old bastard wouldn't know what was fucking him through all the cataracts."

Shaw guffaws, managing not to spill his drink.

"Glad this is so funny," Amelia says. Shaw and Tommy jump to find her returned, standing silently in the doorway. Her hair is out of place and sweat stains darken her armpits. "But I might have an actual solution."

Meanwhile, Essie May breaks from her pod for the last time. She's helped to the floor by two medical assistants, both unfamiliar faces. They tie a soft, silken lead to her neck and pull her down the hall, leading turn by turn to the branding room.

A sterile leather table waits patiently for its next appointment, hand and leg cuffs open and available. A tattoo needle and its equipment rests tableside, while the artist has their head bent over their laptop. One of the assistants coughs, and the artist finally glances up through thick, round glasses.

"Oh? Who do we have here?" They ask, their Minnesotan accent punctuating every word.

"EMT299," the other assistant answers. "Here's her forms."

"Thanks, that'll be all," the artist says, taking Essie's lead and dismissing the extra bodies. "Come back in about an hour."

"Hi dear," the artist pinches Essie's cheek and gives her a tickle under the chin. Essie blushes into it. "I'm Sal! And today, you're going to officially become part of the family! How nice!"

Sal tugs Essie gently towards the table, and removes Essie's shorts. Essie watches them go into the trash as Sal begins positioning her on the table. They lie Essie down face first, and strap her wrists and ankles into the holsters after tying Essie's lead to the pole jutting from the front wall. Essie's face fits through a hole at the top of the table, just wide enough for Sal to push a cookie into Essie's mouth.

"Now that'll make you feel a little silly while I do my work, but it won't last very long. Just to make it nice and easy!" Sal says. They prep Essie's skin while the cookie takes effect, shaving and sanitizing her.

"How we doin', dear?"

Essie can only giggle in response, and Sal knows the cookie's done its job.

They begin to tattoo, and Essie feels nothing but a light feather tickling across her asscheek. In reality, Sal tattoos Essie's initials and number up high, and a simple "SF" is circled beneath it. When they're all finished, Sal wraps the sensitive area in plastic, and releases Essie from her binds. They give the tattoo a once over, and clap their hands together with satisfaction.

"Yes, all done! The other girls are just gonna eat you up, darling," Sal says, giving Essie a smack on the other cheek.

Essie wobbles upright. "The... the other girls?"