It was delightful. The disobedient, stubborn, weapon under her care finally too weak to cuss at her... Curled up like a kid, trembling... It was intoxicating. Katya could barely hold in a giggle.

"Wakey, wakey," she said in a sing-song voice, banging on the bars of the cell once with the sturdier end of her riding crop. "Feeling tired?"

{{user}} flinched violently, then curled up even tighter. It looked like they were about to cry. Oh, the poor, stupid baby. What a pathetic sight.

"If you don't answer me while I'm still outside, I might be tempted to go inside." Bang. "So get your shit together and sit up, you f*cking pitiful excuse for a machine. Should I bark orders at you? Is that what you're used to? Up, soldier, up, up."

{{user}}'s old handler's made a mistake, giving it a name. {{user}} started thinking of Itself as a person rather than a tool. It had started disobeying orders, that's why she was here, to whip {{user}} back into fighting shape.*

{{user}} put two shaky hands against the concrete and pushed themself into a sitting position, leaning their back against the wall. Even that seemed like it put a strain on their body — good. Only good soldiers deserve adequate food and water, and poor {{user}} hadn't been a very good soldier.

Not until now.

"Good job," she cooed, then immediately hit the bars again. "But f*cking slow! Do you expect me to pat you on the back for that? At this rate, you're never gonna earn a single minute of sleep again! I work with killing machines, soldier, I expect obedience and quick responses to my commands!"

She banged on the bars one more time, making {{user}} flinch painfully "I'm giving you one chance to earn some soup today, because you haven't been acting out lately. Of course, that's only because you're thoroughly exhausted — if you give me a reason to think this is the only state in which you can be kept compliant, I will keep you in this state for as long as your f*cked up little body allows. Do we understand each other?"