by Loki Renard
I don't know anything about this girl, but I know she doesn’t look like she belongs here. She looks like she should be gift wrapping presents in the mall. If I had to place her age, I’d say she was around nineteen years old, and that’s young for this place. Really young. It usually takes at least half a decade more than that to get in the kind of trouble that leads you here.
“Is that right, Electra? You’re classified?” I tease her gently.
“I got super powers,” she grins, her blue eyes lighting up with mischief.
“Uh huh. Such as?”
“I can fly.”
“The fact you fell off the assault course suggests that’s not true.”
“I can fly,” she says quite seriously. “Downwards. Right up until I hit the ground.”
Tyko snorts. “Don’t fall for the cute act. She’s a pain in the ass, a dangerous little bitch.”
She retreats into silence. I glare at Tyko. I don’t like how he talks to her, unnecessarily degrading her.
“I understand that outside this room, you have charge of Ms… Miss… Electra,” I say. “But here, I am in charge. And nobody speaks to my patient like that.”
Tyko shakes his head, unashamed. “You don’t know her like I do.”
“I don’t need to know her to know she’s worthy of respect.”
The young woman is staring at me with wide, shocked eyes. I don’t think the people here have treated her very well. I wish I could say I’m surprised, but constant death and danger doesn’t breed empathy.
“You can take a break, Agent Tyko,” I say, attempting to throw him out for a second time. “I’d like to speak to the patient in private.”
“No can do.”
“There are matters you don’t need to hear about. She has her right to privacy.”
“That girl has no rights whatsoever,” he grunts, pointing at her. “She’s dangerous.”
“Are you planning on hurting me, Ms Electra?” I address her directly. She shakes her blonde curls.
“I want to speak with her. Alone.”
Tyko steps in front of her, folds his arms over his chest, and spreads his legs shoulder width apart in a stance which isn’t at all useful from a fighting perspective, but what might very well be called a power pose.
“No.”
I did not think I’d have to fight an agent today. Or any day, really. This place is usually far more disciplined. We get the odd outbreak of chaos when someone new arrives, but the population is generally fairly static. Which again, makes it strange that I haven’t seen this girl before. Has she been here the entire time I have? Hidden away in a cell and on the private training courses? Sent out to kill and then returned to captivity? The idea makes my heart ache for her. She deserves so much better than that. Everybody does.
Agent Tyko has dropped his chin and is looking at me under his brows. He’s ready to fight me to keep her secrets secret. I wonder what would happen if I were to break his nose. Aggressive impulses aren’t that common for me, or at least, they weren’t until I came to work here and this place started to infect me, one day at a time.
“He’s an asshole,” Electra pipes up behind him. “Don’t worry about me, Doctor. I’m going to get out of here soon.”
"You're never going anywhere,” Tyko growls over his shoulder.
There’s a soft thud. And then he drops to the ground like a sack of shit.
I don't know what the hell Electra did, but whatever it was, it was swift and effective. I look down, surprised at how the man is writhing on the ground in obvious pain. It is amazing how a muscular beast of a male can be utterly destroyed by a relatively small amount of pressure in the right place.
“Kidneys,” he gasps. “She fucking punched my kidneys.”
“That’ll teach him to turn his back on me, “ Electra grins with a perfect princess smile. “He should really know better by now.”
Sighing inwardly, I help Tyko up from the ground. Electra sits there, swinging her legs, a serene smile on her face. She’s a naughty girl, I can tell that much. I would not go as far as to call her feral, or a freak. From the moment they came into my medical bay, Tyko has been asking for a violent reckoning. She catches me looking at her and winks at me, an arch expression which accompanies a flash of very male feeling inside me. This young woman may be a mystery, but she is not as helpless as she first seemed. In that wink, I sense a whole world of mischief.
I help him into the next room and call for another medic. Doc Chalmers has been hiding in the other room, apparently unwilling to get involved with the chaos. I don’t blame her.
“Could I get you to help Agent Tyko,” I ask her. “He’s been the recipient of a punch to the kidneys. Both sides.”
“Sucker punch,” Tyko grunts. Doc Chalmers is a cute woman, a fact not lost on the agents who come in here and invariably feel the need to embellish the events which lead them to ending up broken on her exam bed.
“Sure," she says. “Is everything alright out there? It sounded…”
“It’s all under control,” I assure her. “Bit of a scuffle, that’s all. I do need to get back to my patient though. Call if you need me.”
“Sure," she smiles.
I return to Electra, who is grinning broadly now, thoroughly pleased with herself. What a bloodthirsty little thing she is.
“That was naughty.”
“Naughty?” She laughs. “Was it?”
“Mhm. He wasn’t any danger to you in that moment, was he?”
“No, but he’s an asshole.”
Now she’s happy to talk. Whatever was preventing her before has melted away. Or maybe it just limped away to the other exam room. She sits up straighter, her shoulders back, her chest out, her smile broad.
I feel the unmistakeable pull of attraction, mixed with another urge. This girl needs to be disciplined. Not in the idiotic way Tyko has clearly been handling her, but properly. I understand why she’d want to hurt her handler, but she’s too proud of what she just did for it to be a one time thing. He said she was dangerous. I’m starting to see why.
“Still, that wasn’t very nice.”
“I’m not very nice. Nobody here is,” she smirks.
I know what she needs. Not medical treatment. She needs to be turned over my knee and spanked soundly until she knows that she’s not going to get away with anything.
These are strong thoughts and feelings to have upon meeting a girl, but I have an instinct when it comes to the sort of woman who needs spanking. Whatever they’ve done to Electra in this place, they haven’t broken her spirit. I can already tell she’ll fight forever, and likely enjoy it.
“What are we going to do with you?” I murmur the question as a conversational placeholder. I have a dozen ideas about what I’d like to do with her. Teach her how to behave, first, then take care of the other spark I sense in her. Most agents in this place don’t get proper outlet for their physical needs. I’d be surprised if Electra has ever let anyone near her.
“Keep trying to kill me until one day, they succeed,” she says with a shrug. “I’m looking forward to it.”
“To what, dying?”
“Yeah. Seems like a lot less work.”
“Mhm.”
“You don’t approve, do you, doc?”
I do not. But more than not approving, I’m amazed at the transformation of personality between now and when she was with her handler, and in the initial stages of my examination. I can only surmise she has decided I am not someone to be feared - which is a good thing. Intimidating my patients, especially the reluctant ones, is not my MO. Then again, neither is enabling the bad behavior of young ladies who really should have been taught better by now.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” She’s squirming where she sits, her hips making those unmistakeable nervous movements which every girl gets before she meets a hot bottomed reckoning. I think it must be coded into the DNA, because I’m pretty sure this girl has never seen a lick of discipline in her life that di
dn’t come with a fist. What I do is different, and she already senses that.
“You knew better than to hit Tyko, didn’t you.” I phrase it as a statement, not a question.
“Apparently not.”
“Then you should be taught.”
“Oh yeah?” She cocks her head at me and gives me a look of pure smugness. “You should really listen to Tyko’s warnings about me.”
“And why’s that? Planning on punching me too?”
“Nah,” she says. “If I wanted to hurt you, you’d be hurt already.”
She’s an arrogant little thing. Needs bringing down a peg or six. Fortunately, I know how to handle girls who think they’re tough. My hands are practically itching with the desire to come down over that nicely shaped rear and teach her real discipline, not the brutal bullshit that passes for it in this place.
“I think you should get down and bend over the bed,” I say.
“Why’s that?”
“I want to check your tailbone more fully now you’ve decided to cooperate.”
“Who said I had?”
Electra
He fixes me with this stern look, but there’s nothing mean in it. I don't know what to make of this doctor. Most of them would have fled by now, or forced a needle into me, or demanded that Tyko hold me down, or some other shitty thing that involved me having no say in what happened next.
But I don’t believe he wants to check my tailbone. I think he’s got another agenda. Now I’m curious. I’d usually never turn my back on anybody, but I have a feeling this is going to be different. I’m a risk taker, so I take the risk. The behavior is programmed into me, just the way punching assholes right in the kidneys is. When something gets my attention, I have to follow it. It’s like a compulsion.
I turn around, put my hands on the bed, and let the doctor examine my, well, it has to be my ass that he’s looking at. And now, touching. I can feel his hand running down my back to the base of my spine. He puts some pressure there, gently, testing my reactions. I could keep up the charade, but it amuses me more not to.
“Interesting,” he says. “It’s as if the injury has disappeared.”
“Or as if it never existed at all,” I murmur to myself. I’m not actually in pain. Tyko was right. I had a plan all along to be brought to the medical ward. I just couldn’t risk making it look like I wanted to be here. Plus, I enjoy fighting Tyko.
“Quite,” the doctor agrees. His voice takes on that note of sternness again. “Young lady, have you been wasting our time?”
“I haven’t been wasting mine,” I smirk down at the table. He’s so damn innocent I can hardly stand it. He just believed me because I told him something. Who does that?
“Mhm.” I feel his hand move back up my back. Usually when doctors touch me for too long, I break their hands. I don’t feel inclined to do that to him. I feel as though I have the upper hand, so no need to break his.
“You,” he says. “Deserve a damn good spanking.”
I laugh and try to stand, but he’s still got his hand there and he holds me in place with pressure that is just firm enough to suggest I don’t move.
“You going to spank me, Doc?”
“I might,” he says. “In your case, I get the feeling it’s likely medically necessary.”
“Uh huh.” My shoulders are shaking because I’m giggling so hard. Giggling is one thing I wasn’t programmed to do. It’s something I’ve picked up over the years, rare, but it comes out when I’m particularly tickled at getting away with something.
“If you were mine,” he says. “I’d have your pants and panties down around your ankles, and I’d be setting about making your bottom good and hot.”
That sentence sends a bolt of heat to the core of me. It’s something about the way he says it, all stern and warm and dominant without triggering my aggressive impulses. This doctor may be out of his depth when it comes to me and this place, but he knows how to handle himself.
“But I’m not yours,” I say. “So you can’t do anything to me but tell on me to Tyko, and he already knew I was faking.”
SMACK!
The sudden impact of a large masculine palm against my backside makes me jerk upright hard enough to break his hold. I whirl around and stare at him with wide eyes.
“You just hit me!”
“Spanked you,” the doctor says, still giving me that stern stare with those mature green eyes. “There’s no excuse for wasting medical time, and there’s certainly no excuse for hurting an agent when he’s trying to handle you.”
“Maybe he should be better at his job,” I suggest. My butt is stinging lightly. There’s no damage at all, but somehow I’m having an ongoing emotional reaction to that tap on my ass. There’s a part of me that wants him to do it again, though I don’t know why.
“Maybe you should behave,” the doctor says. “Sit down. I’ll call someone to collect you.”
I’m disappointed. I’ve enjoyed my interaction with the doctor more than I’ve enjoyed anything in a very long time. It has to come to an end though, I guess. Maybe I’ll see him again in the not too distant future. Maybe not.
Tom
I am about thirty seconds away from all kinds of inappropriate activities. I have to stop myself from bending this little brat over and tanning her until that attitude of hers changes. Spanking your patients is 100% not in the guidelines for this facility. I don’t know what would be done to me if I did that, but I doubt I’d like the consequences.
There’s something about this place that makes it feel easy to bend the rules, ignore right and wrong. Out in what I refer to inwardly as ’the real world’, there is no way I would ever smack a patient’s bottom. In here, it’s likely the least terrible thing to happen to her today. It’s put a smile on her face. A devious, naughty smile which I know bodes trouble.
“Wait here,” I tell her. “Don’t touch anything. I’m going to check on your handler.”
I hope Tyko is ready to be discharged. I need to clear my head and gather some more information.
“But we were having so much fun…” she pouts at me and stands in such a manner as to emphasize her chest and her rear. Oh, she’s a minx, alright. I’ve seen about three different versions of this woman in the past half hour. I’m not sure which one is the real Electra, but I know when a woman is trying to seduce me, and that sparkle in her eye is more than suggestive.
“Wait. Here.” I say firmly, returning to the other exam room where Tyko is sitting up, looking pale.
“How’s the patient?”
“Pissed,” he growls. “That little bitch.”
“Language, please. There are ladies present,” I say, gesturing to Doc Chalmers, whose eyes have narrowed at his expletive. “I’ll take over, if you like.”
“Please,” she says, snapping the rubber gloves off her hands. Apparently Electra isn’t the only female Tyko has managed to alienate today.
“You may find yourself bleeding urine,” I tell him. “If you do, seek medical attention immediately.”
“Yeah. I won’t be seeking treatment for that bitch,” he growls, as if swearing at Electra is going to make any kind of difference to his bruised manhood, or kidneys.
In spite of strongly believing she deserves a good spanking, I don’t see anything particularly wrong with what Electra did, though I can’t voice that opinion out loud. Everything that happens in this facility happens on camera, which means every supervisor going all the way up to the Head is going to know that Tyko put his back to the girl in an attempt to block me from providing medical care.
There’s a knock at the door. I answer it to find a team of six armed personnel. Just as I thought, the chaos has been noted and is now being handled. Thankfully, they are far more professional in their comportment than Tyko has been.
“Come on, Electra,” one of them says. “You’ve had enough fun for one day.”
Electra gives a little shrug and hops down off the bed. The last I see of her is a flash of blonde cur
ls walking between two heavily armed guards almost twice her size.
Escape
Three weeks later…
Electra
I’m getting out of here.
I’ve been working on a plan for months. Ever since they transferred me to this facility where the handlers are smug and slack and don’t really know who I am, I’ve sensed that there is opportunity here for something I’ve never had before: freedom.
I was born in a bottle. Literally. My birth was a breaking of glass and a flash of pain. I remember it, even though they say there’s no way I can. I remember everything. I remember being small and covered in wires and tubes. I remember solitary rooms with gray walls and gray floors. I remember nurses with gloves, insulating themselves from me.
Now I’m in a solitary room with a gray wall and a gray floor. They made me stronger, faster, deadlier than almost anybody, and then they put me in a box. That’s what they do with weapons. Store them until they are needed. But I’m not a weapon. I’m a person. At least, I think I am.
I keep thinking about the doctor. Tom Ares. He seemed worried about me. He also seemed completely out of place, perhaps even out of his depth in this facility. I wonder if they’re running out of doctors in this place. Or maybe it is even softer than I think it is.
Pacing in slow circles keeps me something like sane. That trip to the medical bay was much more useful than I could ever have imagined. Usually they bring the doctor to me and I am seen in controlled circumstances. But they had all sorts of medical supplies out in the open there. Tyko didn’t even notice me taking what I needed. I’ve been working on a surprise for him over the past few days, one I can’t wait to unleash.
The door opens. Heavy metal and iron locks. The slow screeching of un-oiled captivity. Tyko appears. He’s walking straighter now, but not for long.
“Ready, Freak?”
Oh, I’m ready.
Tom
“They let you out of the medical bay?”