Nicole Duval - The breeders

Carolyn self-consciously shied from the cages, only to bump into a similar row of dogs on the other side of the aisle. She jumped forward, careful to stand in the exact center of the walkway. Her hands were trembling.

"No, no, my dear," Jason explained impatiently. "You don't understand. These are the show dogs, the famous Royal Benson Danes. Animals like these aren't used as toys for the rich, my dear girl, not champion stock like this. It's taken years to perfect such fine dogs."

He walked briskly over to the first cage and pointed to the pair of matched frames which hung one above the other on the cage front.

"Look," he said enthusiastically, "Look at these pedigrees."

Carolyn moved closer at his insistence, and read the small print on the forms. Royal Benson's King Lear, sired by Royal Benson's Black Emperor, sired by Royal Benson's Demon, etc, etc. The ornately printed pedigree went back five generations and each dog bore the kennel title of Benson. She didn't know much about Dane conformation but she knew enough about registered animals to know that an unbroken pedigree line free from inbreeding was an accomplishment to be proud of.

"And here," he continued, pointing to the second frame, "here is a list of every win the dog has made."

He ran his finger down a long list of titles, pausing here and there to emphasize the enormity of the win.

"Best Champion of Show… Best Grand Champion of Show. And here, Best of Show! Do you realize how difficult it is to win a Best of Show out of hundreds of dogs from all over the country?" He asked Carolyn, not pausing for her answer, "All of my boys end up there sooner or later. What do you think of that?"

"It's very… impressive." Carolyn tried to say something to salve his ego but she was still in the cold numb state of near shock.

Jason walked through the cages, calling each great dog by name, scratching them through the wire, praising them in turn as one would children. Carolyn watched him blankly. She had cried away all her tears of horror, the tears of fear… weeped herself dry of revulsion… there was almost nothing left. She walked and talked and tried not to think. There was nothing she could do for the present except as she was told. Jason had made that quite clear when he showed her the movie film of… she shuddered even at the thought… of that terrible dog at her loins. He had locked her in her room overlooking the dog runs, a prisoner of the damnable electric locks, and let her absorb the awful truth. Once she accepted the inevitable, he had said, it would be easier. And perhaps it was. She wasn't sure. She no longer trembled at every sound in the hall, no longer felt nauseous when a dog barked in the runs beneath her window. Perhaps he was right, now that she had accepted the inevitable, the days had been easier.

… if only she could rid her dreams of the endless hordes of slavering dogs with giant cocks which hung stiff and heavy headed beneath their stomachs, dogs which followed her everywhere sniffling at her wet slit and licking their eager organs. One night in her dreams they would attack her, this army of rutting animals that crowded her dreams, and then she would surely go mad… if she wasn't already…

Jason gestured toward the door at the end of the blue carpeted walkway. "This way, my dear."

Carolyn walked slowly between the cages, taking care not to touch the wire sides. She had succeeded in controlling her revulsion thus far but the touch of one of those great beasts, the hot wet tongue upon her hand might be enough to loose the panic she felt inside.

The door beyond Jason bore no handle, no means of access. Carolyn looked about for the electric button but the wall was clean. She looked back at the door. There was a small neat plastic sign. "Hospital Area – No Admittance." She waited for Jason to open the door, and then she suddenly realized that "no admittance" meant that behind that door… only a few steps beyond… were the other dogs. Her eyes grew wide with apprehension and she backed away from the door.

"Yes, my dear, the Hospital Area," Jason smiled at her reaction. "Rather appropriate, don't you think? We like to think of our work as a humanitarian service. You might call it physical therapy."

Lines creased her lovely face but Jason's suddenly clamped jaw warned them away, and Carolyn forced her features into impersonal repose. She didn't trust her voice to remain steady. She nodded her head curtly, keeping her eyes carefully averted from his.

"Never mind," Jason's voice was tolerant. "You will learn. The others did."

"The others?" Carolyn's eyes flashed back to his. It had never occurred to her that there had been others before her, others who shared her fate. What had happened to them? What was going to happen to her when she was no longer needed?

"But of course!" Jason smiled with amusement. "We have had six, perhaps seven other young ladies. Each of whom, I can assure you, learned to enjoy her work with a consuming passion."

"What… what happened to them?" She was almost afraid to ask. "Did you… are they…?"

"Of course not!" His voice grew impatient. "We didn't dispose of them. You watch too many B movies! I simply meant that we had to terminate their employment. They became, shall we say, too enamored of their work. They were wearing my poor boys out and overtraining is just as bad as no training at all. Aahhhh, but enough of that. Come in, come in."

Jason pressed the palm of his right hand firmly against the metal plate of the door. From somewhere beyond, there came the familiar answering whir and the door slid silently open. Carolyn followed him around the elaborate folding screen which sheltered the room from view when the door was open. Whatever she had expected to see in her mind's eye, it certainly was not the sight which met her eyes. She stared at the huge laboratory area. Everything was neat and sterile in appearance. She could hear the faint hum of the air conditioning unit and the temperature was pleasantly cool. There was a fresh light scent of ozone in the air but, she thought with surprise, no doggy odor although nearly half the area was taken up with wire cages. Each cage was immaculate, as those in the outer room had been, except that these cages bore no pedigrees, no identification other than a small neatly lettered sign with each dog's name she could read those nearest her – Nero, Baron, Casanova, Brute, simple names with no hint of Royal Benson registration. Yet to Carolyn's untrained eyes they were as big and well bred as the show dogs she had just admired.

She stared at the dogs, her emotions part horror and part curiosity. Fawn, black, harlequin-spotted animals, alert and obviously in the peak of health. Some were young, gangly legged beasts with huge paws and clumsy manners, the canine adolescents. Some were huge heavy-chested animals: virile, beautiful, terrible… and each one watched her intently. One immense dog in particular, a fawn-colored giant with a black mask, rose from his haunches when she entered and had paced impatiently back and forth the length of his cage ever since. Carolyn felt uncomfortable in his presence and forced her eyes away from his. She turned her back and left the area of his cage and still she felt those eyes following her. She knelt before a separate cage of young puppies, letting them tumble over one another and chew on her fingers; anything to avert her mind from the pacing dog behind her.

Jason watched with interest. The girl seemed to subconsciously sense the King's presence yet he was certain she did not recognize him after a cursory glance at a roomful of dogs. To the novice, one Dane looked pretty much like another. Interesting, Jason thought, interesting.

"Well, my dear," Jason called her attention back to the business at hand, "Would you like to see how we train our dogs?"