Author's Note: First off, warning! This is very kinky and not for the faint of heart. It is, however, not just a PWP and does have some intellectual stuff about morality in regard to how we (the empathetic) should treat socio-/psychopaths. If that doesn't scare you off, enjoy.


I once heard some anti-animal-rights activists talking about how animals shouldn't have any rights because they have no souls. Your faithful dog, they say, is a sociopath at heart. If you weren't strong enough to fit the role of master, you'd fit the role of food.

I don't know about dogs—Mr. Muggles always seemed loyal enough—but I can definitely see that applying to some pets. Case in point: Elle Bishop.

"Hello, Ms. Bennet!" Elle chimes as I enter my fancy suite at my apartment at Pinehearst. She is dressed in her usual outfit: matching dark blue blouse, skirt, and heels, as well as her gold lightning bolt necklace and a smaller necklace of white quartz that contrasts well with her gunmetal collar. Her skirt is rather short and her blouse shows quite a bit of cleavage, which is testament to her slutty nature considering she was wearing it before I ever started brainwashing her. "May I take your jacket?"

"Hello, Elle." I smile politely, and I shrug the leather jacket from my shoulders in an invitation.

She slips behind me and gently removes the jacket. With a practiced finesse, she removes the jacket, folds it, and places it in the small hall closet. "Dinner's in the oven. I made that chicken recipe you liked."

"Is that what smells so good?" I walk into the living room and sink down on the couch. "Ah," I sigh in relief, raising my legs for her to tend to.

She kneels down and removes my shoes and socks. Setting them to the side, she pulls the footstool underneath my feet and begins to massage them. "Long day at the office?"

I smile as her fingers work the tension out of my muscles, and I chuckle at her comment. "Something like that. You remember that steampunk guy we dubbed a harmless nut? Not so much. Ever been attacked by tiny robots? Not fun."

She grins at the image. I can't tell if it's the image of the steampunk robots or me getting the shit kicked out of me that amuses her, probably both. "Hey, I'd have just zapped them. Lightning works wonders on pesky electronics and people. So, what, did you kill him or…?" She says it casually, but I recognize the sparkle of bloodlust in her eyes.

"Bagged him," I reply. "He's in the zoo with the other incurables downstairs."

After Nathan Petrelli outed us to the world, the world became afraid very quickly. Specials are a very real threat to the human community, which makes us all very vulnerable. In this time of fear, human politicians have been rallying for specials to be turned into second-class citizens, forced to register as nonhumans and relegated into ghettos. It's like the return to fascism and we're in the middle of it. Nathan's been doing the best he can to keep the situation under control, and his focus has been on Pinehearst.

Nathan employs Pinehearst as a private police force to enforce the laws as they apply to specials. We keep an eye on specials with certain kinds of powers and make sure they don't get out of line. Minor infractions like Midases getting rich are ignored (hey, they'll devalue gold and then where will they be?), but invisible men and women are implanted with chips that let secure facilities know when they're in range (it's a slippery slope, but you have to admit it makes sense). Specials with dangerous or invasive powers are strictly monitored. Should a special ever become hostile, they earn a free vacation in the Pinehearst prison. Counselors and mind-controllers do their best to rehabilitate them, but sometimes they're just sociopathic and can never enter normal society. These incurables are either executed or locked away in the high-security basement level 9.

Well, mostly. Elle's a rare exception. I couldn't rehabilitate her, so I just domesticated her. I made her into my pet, involuntarily so. It sounds bad, but it isn't really.

You see, Elle's a sociopath. If someone offered her the chance to enslave me, she'd jump on it. I just managed to get on top first.

We were friends once upon a time, almost girlfriends, really. Together, we were Pinehearst's best agents. After a while, though, it became clear it wasn't exactly an equal partnership. Elle carefully manipulated me so that everything swung in her favor. She got the attention, the money, the credit, the sex. So often my personal items would go missing, only to later show up in her room. Sometimes she'd deliberately hurt my feelings, apologize, and do it again a few weeks later. The final straw was when she killed a special boy who was not significantly dangerous.

I couldn't bear to treat her like the other incurables, though. I liked her. I just made her… more likable. Seriously, who wouldn't like a beautiful woman pampering them all day? Elle was kind of fun before, now she's a total joy to be with!

"Oh?" she asks politely and continues in a hopeful tone, "Well, if you need to torture him or anyone else for any reason, I'm your girl."

I nod. "Yeah, I'll remember that." Like I could forget. "Hey, how about a lemonade? I'm kind of thirsty."

She stands. "Certainly, Ms. Bennet."

While Elle fetches me my drink, I dig the remote control out from between the seat cushions and turn on the TV. NBC news crackles into being. The newscaster is cute. I listen for a bit as she talks about how my home state of Texas is offering specials $3,000 each to be sterilized, before I change the channel in disgust. I find some sitcom and lower the volume.

"Your lemonade, Ms. Bennet." Before handing me the drink, she takes a big gulp of it herself.

I nod with approval as I accept the drink. While I have less lemonade now, I'm grateful she showed me that it's safe to drink. The first few times I had her get me food and beverage, she got a bit rebellious and started trying to poison me, drug me, or just feed me various bodily fluids. That was totally unacceptable, and I trained the inclination out of her by having her sample everything herself.

"Is there anything else I can do for you, Ms. Bennet?"

I smile at her and pat the seat next to me. "Come watch TV with me."

"Yes, Ms. Bennet." She cheerfully bounces over and plops down on the cushion beside me. She wiggles to get comfortable, rubbing her backside against my leg.

I grin at the silly girl and wrap an arm around her shoulders. I pull her up against me until she rests her head on my shoulder. I breathe in the scent of her hair and look closely at her pretty smile. Elle is so beautiful, and I have tamed her. She is mine.

"What's that, Boy Meets World?" she asks, causing a vibration through my bones. Her eyes look at the TV screen. She seemingly has taken my words at face value.

I never take my eyes off her face. "Maybe."

She opens her mouth to say something, but she never gets to it. Her shimmering lip gloss, her clean white teeth, her moist pink tongue, the shadows hinting of her treasures deeper within; it all becomes too much for me to handle, and I kiss her aggressively. She responds eagerly.

Elle is well trained and more than a bit slutty, so this is no problem for her at all. She slides up onto my lap to give me a better angle, putting her knees on either side of me. I wrap my other arm around her waist and keep her right where I want her. She's like my hot sex doll now.

It used to be different.

"I want you on the bed naked in ten seconds," Elle stated. It was an order. The lusty look in her eyes made that very clear.

Without giving the matter any consideration at all, I rushed to comply and started unbuttoning my blouse. Some future leader of Pinehearst I was. But this was Elle. We were partners, and I trusted her judgment. Apparently this meant she could boss me around whenever she got hot. And why was she so horny anyway? "Elle, you just had to kill someone."

"Did I say you could speak?" She snatched the blouse off my torso, ripping off a few buttons. Shoving me down on the bed, she got to work on my pants.

"No, ma'am," I said, snapping my jaw closed. I inwardly cursed at myself for that. It didn't make sense to do what she said just because… what? Because she was Elle? She was hot. She was so hot.

She pulled my pants off, and then climbed on top of me. Her lightning necklace dangled from her neck, and I watched it shimmer above me. She still had all her clothes on. It wasn't fair.

It was also damn creepy that killing made her hot. I really wanted to say something, to tell her she shouldn't act this way after killing, that it was wrong, that I wasn't going to satisfy any lusts that came from bloodshed. I opened my mouth.

She glared.

I closed my mouth. I supposed it didn't matter. This was Elle. If she told me to do something… And she was on me… She wouldn't tell me to do anything that wasn't…

She took off my bra and panties, and then I was naked. And then her mouth was on mine. She wanted me to kiss her, and I did.

The oven beeps, breaking me out of my reverie. I pull my mouth from Elle's with a smack. "You'd better see to that."

"Yes, Ms. Bennet." Elle slides off my lap. She does a quick curtsey. "Right away, Ms. Bennet."