Chapter 10
Chapter 10.
Zach has my hands... my paws... held tightly, as I pivot to stand up. The room shifts around, I have a nagging feeling, like this is a dream. Echoes, of a dream which fade to black when I struggle to make changes, to take control. I'm back in my room, sleeping, on the verge of sleep... I drift back off.
I hop forward, ordering my feet to shift backwards, onto my heels, but where a heel is right below my ankle, there is nothing now, and my calves strain trying to stretch that far. I bounce back up onto my toes, instead of so much effort needed to hold me on them, it's almost no effort at all. I stare into his blue eyes, he laughs at me and pants. His hands are warm and steady.
"Stay on your toes! Look at your feet, you're digitigrade, not plantigrade. Your days of sprained ankles are over." I look down and see that he's right. My lateral stability compensates when my feet don't land square, even though the floor is flat, I can see what he means. Fascinating. I step my paws to the left and right while he holds me up, and if I concentrate on walking on the balls of my feet, it feels about the same as when I was human. My mind is full of a lifetime of muscle memory, but there is none of ever learning how to walk, it's too far back, I was too young. This all feels new, the motions I try to use only partially match up.
"Lean forward, I'm going to let you go."
I keep my knees bent, noticing my femurs are ridiculously short compared to what I'm used to. The steps I take are small, and when Zach lets go I fall forward immediately, onto my padded palms. So that's the compromise, no heels... less upright stability. My knees don't... can't... touch the ground. I think my ass is up high in the air. I turn to look at it, and am shocked to see that not only is it level with my head, I know I'm flexible enough to reach it. I see my tail, and the urge to chase and bite it feels poetic, that would be hilarious if I did that. Instead, I stare up at Zach and bring my muzzle way too high into the air again, he disappears behind my nose. He pushes it down, out of my field of view. This is going to take some serious getting used to, I didn't realize how much a human head could move without interfering with vision.
"Good enough. That put sockets into your brain, new areas I can fill with memories. It would take weeks to learn how to walk upright, but we're going to do it in just moments." He points at me. "This is the only way you can run, on all fours. Ready for some memories?"
"Um, sure." I feel lost, and hope understanding isn't part of what's needed.
Zach pauses, sniffing. "You say you understand, but your smell says no."
Oh wow. I realize Rhenthar must never directly lie to each other. The implications of that... a society built around honesty, trust. I can't even imagine it.
"I, uh, I don't understand." I pause, while he watches. He seems patient. Something else nags at my mind, "I'm afraid, Zach. All these new memories, losing my old ones... will I lose myself? Will my consciousness... quit? From my perspective, will I die again?"
Zach whips his muzzle left and right, "No, never! You wake up from sleep, memories come online, like... clothes you wore, as human. You look down, see blue shirt, yes? I take your blue shirt off, give you a red one. Make it like you remember putting the red one on, and even if you don't quite remember, your mind closes the gap, makes the connection, fills in the blank. Now, you look down, see fur. Too big of a gap. Need filler. You never wore fur," he pauses, grinning. "Except once, almost. That's why you're so special." He glances at my knees, they're wobbling. He points up into the air, near my nose. I stare at his finger, but it gets closer, too close, I fall back onto my butt. Now I'm sitting, with my knees around my elbows, just like a dog.
"Good boy..." He pets me between the ears, the sensation makes me pant with my eyes shut. I lean into it, thinking back to all the times I roleplayed with my friends, trying to get them to pet me like this. The lame act it often seemed, no matter how real it felt to me, I could tell they weren't into it. Not like I was, this blissed me out. I hear snuffling noises and the touch eases up.
Zach coughs and growls, more laughter. I open my eyes, thinking wistfully what I always think when someone pets me: that it didn't go on long enough.
"You like that. I knew! Too much code to go through, your brain. I made some interpolation. Hm. Stay, like shopping, I show you something."
Zach pads away and picks up a round circle of metal on a table. He tosses it at me. I try to catch it, but since my hands are supporting me, I fall over and it bounces off my side, it lands on the floor with a muffled thunk. I wobble back upright, using my feet to lever myself up upright onto my butt. The padded floor is cold directly against my sphincter, I don't have much for butt cheeks anymore. Thoughts of hygiene and guilt peak, then fade as I realize, yes indeed, I can reach that now, with my tongue. Zach is entranced with all this, and I look at the object he threw at me.
I pick it up, it's a metal collar with shiny gold stubs equally spaced all the way around facing inside, I count six of them. It feels surprisingly heavy, and I can barely see the gaps between small sections that make its surface smooth but flexible. I notice an inscription on the inside, I flip it around and can see that it reads "MARK V" ... I wonder who Mark is, is that the guy Zach wants me to meet?
He doesn't say anything, so I look at it closer. The stubs are spring loaded, but they feel hydraulically dampened. I know what this is, it's a remote control shock collar, similar to the ones I make, er, made, but infinitely superior. I feel guilt and shame, holding it, which is typical any time I see a collar, because there's another thought prominent in my mind, arousal. I feel coldness between my legs, again, but this time, no amount of pulling on my sheath covers it up. I feel even more embarrassed, and can hardly look at Zach, knowing he's staring at me. Knowing he knows.
"It's, um, nice." I set it down, staring at him, hoping he looks away. Can't he see I'm uncomfortable? He sniffs in my direction and looks down at the collar, lying on the floor. I notice part of the outside is shiny, I steal another glance, it looks like a tiny screen with even smaller buttons next to it. I want to pick it back up, so badly, it hurts. I want to try putting it on, I wonder if my neck is too big. I want to be alone, so I can really look closely at it. With pure force of will, I look away.
"Nice?" He laughs another of those sad howls. "What would you do if I put it on you, and told you that if you try to take it off, it'll kill you?" He goes on before I can answer, "what if it fucks with your mind, tears apart your memory associations, so when you wake up with a red shirt on, you have no memory of putting it on?"
"What if it make you stupid," he bares his teeth, growl fills his voice, "and eventually you figure out how stupid?"
I remember to look away, even though I'm not angry, myself. My shame furthers along with the warm erection between my legs. It sounds like the hottest thing I've heard in a very long time.
Zach steps forward and leans down, to my horror, he pulls my arm out of the way. He stares down curiously at my erection, then looks back up at my eyes. My shame explodes, I want to hide in embarrassment, and I ready some excuses, some long explanations about my kinks. I'm used to people thinking I'm a freak. He interrupts me before I can speak.
"And that..." he points at my dick, poking out for the entire world to see, "is why you're perfect." He backs up and laughs, my shame edges into confusion. "No time for history lesson, you wouldn't remember anyway. But, your race made us. Enslaved us. Long time ago, great great grandfather. No more slaves, we fought. Peace, for a while. Then humans all died, dirty eight. HIV, airborne. All dead. Thank Dog this not exist back then. We would all be slaves, today." He looks away, fighting with himself, mumbling.
"Rhenthar don't like collars, I take it?" Though he hadn't given me any acceptance, for what I obviously liked, my confidence built up quickly. I stumble over the thought of my race, my previous race... all dead.
"Fuck no! Not... what represent, not feeling around neck like Alpha's jaws always there, not being made into a dog after being made not a dog!" He shook, and though everything smells new to me, his scent seems warped, somehow. It feels like there is something I'm missing. I stare at the collar on the floor and pick it back up, looking at the little screen in its side.
"Who you meet. Hottest. He likes them a lot, too, just like you."
"He likes to wear them?" A familiar shame edges its way back in.
Laughter, a sad howl. "Oh, no. No. Not anymore..." he mumbles something I can't hear, "but he'll be very happy to see you in one." Cold blue eyes like chips of the deepest ice, sharp white teeth.
I keep trying to pull my sheath back up to cover my prick, the days of my private parts being private are apparently over. I stay hunched in on myself to give my skin the greatest slack. I quietly curse Zach for not designing my sheath longer, but then I look down and see just how long it would have to be. My knot adds almost three inches to the eight inches of glistening shaft in front of it. Good lord, I'm huge.
I think of all my canine roleplay in the bedroom, my collars, how stupid it all felt at even the best of times, yet, here I am. Slow anxiety begins to brew, as I know what happens to my mindset if someone approaches me on this subject in the wrong way, if they're not dominant enough, my pleasure becomes resentment.
"Zach, um, did he actually force one of these on you?"
A long howl, he shakes his fur out. "Of course. That one," he points, "is mine. Things... complicated. I want him to be happy, he likes a fight, enjoys resistance, my fight was real, his pleasure was real. My pleasure was real, but not real. I am not suitable." His last words are in a different tone, and I know that they aren't his own.
Being forced to wear this, woof, I look it over while shivering. "I'm sorry you didn't like it, Zach. But I kinda like things forced, sometimes." Always.
Zach barks laughter at that, "I know. But. There is much, much more. Collar not just for fun, this is a big complicated problem. Rubik's cube, yes? Many moves, toward solution, puzzle solved, everything moves at least once."
"How so?" He has my curiosity, now. All the games I ever played to wear something like this, none were ever grounded in reality. In the end, it was just a game. What other purpose could something like this have?
"As I said, you're not Rhenthar. Not smell, not act. Very... distasteful. I can program base memories, but they will be weak, not stand scrutiny. The mind adapts. Fine, in the beginning. Enough to get around. Ten years, maybe twelve. New memories in that time solid, real. Foundation falls away, new memories are at risk. Human memories fill in, mesh with new, create foundation. Old you, new you. Happy."
I considered that for a moment.
"Without collar? Crazy as shithouse rat, never work. Need associations kept apart, for a while, several years. Mind heals slowly. Tried to speed up, once. Old memories stored in language center," he barked a sad howl, "one must go. My speech much better now than it was. But emotions still fuck it up." His scent turns sad.
"That happened to you?" My prick warms up as it slides back into its sheath. This part wasn't erotic at all.
"Yes. Too quick." He smoothes his whiskers back, shifts around uncomfortably, "hated that collar..." he eyes it in my hands, loathing.
"Er, wait. Why not use something else? If you hate collars so much?" I gesture helplessly around at the equipment surrounding us.
Zach lets out a soft growl, frustration maybe?
"You not listen? Rhenthar not make that. Days of slavery over. Humans gone! Who make? Who!"
I stammer, unsure what to say in response. "Who?"
"Big question. No answer, yet. No idea how functions, method. Brainwave, resonance, new type radiation, maybe. All. Memories, mind, what I put in just a hack. Someone out there... much better at this than us. But they not Rhenthar... someday, we find them."
I think about what he said earlier, the time frame. "Am I going to live a normal Rhenthar life, then? For ten years or so, first? Is that how this will work?"
Zach nods. "Then, hottest come in, take you, make you his. You won't know, you can't know... perfect. Your future forced, with hate..." he reaches forward and shoves my arm out of the way, I flinch and cover my erection, "then love..."
Zach pants with his tongue hanging out. I can see some of the damage in his mind, now. I can see past it, to someone painfully intelligent and devoted to one cause in his entire universe. Whoever this guy is, he has to be worth it.
This goes way past collar games, being forced to eat out of a dog bowl. Way past dominance and submission. This isn't some act, with an ending of sitting down to pay bills and then go back to work during the day. What Zach was describing is crazy intense, I briefly consider what it might feel like to say no again. How, even if I live only another sixty seconds, they would be spent surviving the greatest disappointment in myself that was even physically possible. It feels like I'm staring over the edge of a cliff, and knowing that I'm not going to jump.
I turn the collar over in my paws. The greatest disappointment or the greatest pleasure in the world, my world. If only all choices in life were so simple.
"Zach, you really did your homework. This sounds... amazing. What's next?" He barks very loud at me, howling.
"Next, we find what best life for you to live, next ten years. Things changed, six centuries. Ah. Some fun? Adventure? Come this way, I show you..."