Tracy Identifies as (Ch. 02) - Animals

[Cwelst72]

All characters, businesses, and institutions are fictitious. All characters are adults.

As previously noted, the idea for this story was suggested by Citizen1069. I have diverged from some aspects of his original suggestion.

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"Tracy Identifies as"
Chapter 02 - Animals
by LoyalHound

POV Penny

I was leashed and muzzled when Emily checked me in at the baggage counter. Once the clerk established that there was no room for a second emotional support human in the passenger cabin, he said "Please remove your clothing, Penny. Shoes too, you are to be completely naked for processing."

Penny, he called me. Not Ms Thane, not mam, just Penny. I was being addressed as an animal. I removed my shoes and, Emily having dropped my leash so I could remove my clothing, pulled off my day glow orange human service animal shift and stood naked in the airport check in area while people stared at me and murmured to themselves about me in the background. I tried to act pleased and happy while I stood there barefoot and naked except for my collar and muzzle, because someone who actually has Service Animal Identity Disorder would find being treated as an animal being checked in for kenneling affirming.

While Emily added my shift and shoes to one of the checked bags, the clerk came around, took my leash, said "Come on, Penny," and led me behind the counter where he tethered me and gave me a baggage tag for the kennel I would travel in to hold. Then, handling me like the animal I now was, he held my left breast in his left hand while he wrote my flight number and destination code on my left breast in removable ink.

After Trace and Emily left, he printed some paperwork, took hold of my leash and led me thru a door into the baggage handling area. He led me to a station marked "screening" where several security agents were screening baggage thru x-ray and doing the occasional physical search of the baggage. One of them looked up and said "Is that Penny? I've got special screening orders for her."

"I bet you do," said the baggage agent. "You always seem to have special screening orders for the human service animals."

"You know the drill. Follow me." The screening guy led us into a nearby office. He took us to a table next to the office wall and secured my leash to a fitting on the table.

The screening agent said "Penny, you don't get a choice. You've been checked in as baggage and I have to search you. You will be searched, you will be kenneled, and you will fly Florida like it says on your breast. Be a good girl and I'll try to make this as comfortable as possible. Now face the wall, stretch out your hands and spread your legs."

He put on fresh gloves and felt my arms and under my breasts. He ran a comb thru my hair and had me lift my feet one at a time so he could check the soles of my feet. Then he got a grease pensile from the table, made a mark on my collar and told me "I'm going to loosen your collar to check underneath it. Please don't move." I held still as he loosened my collar, felt around between my collar and my skin, and then retighten the collar, exactly as snug as it had been before.

He told me "I'm going to remove your muzzle for a minute. Don't talk. I'll put it right back on when I'm done with that part of the inspection." He got a large clean paper plate, undid my muzzle, and carefully removed it from my mouth, placing it on the plate. He had me turn to face him, felt under my jaw and had me open my mouth and examined the inside with a flashlight.

He retrieved my muzzle, had me open my mouth, inserted the pad in place on top of my tongue, then secured my muzzle in place, the pad on my tongue reminding me not to talk, helping me stay in my service animal headspace.

He told the baggage agent. "I don't know why we bother. There's never anything in their mouths."

"There's never anything in their coochies either, but that doesn't stop you from searching there."

"I have my orders, Sam. You know that."

"Yea Ralph, I know it comes straight from Brad."

"Correct, and I'm not going to run down my boss. Penny, bend over the table with your arms stretched out forward and spread your legs and we'll finish this."

I bent over and held still as he put on fresh gloves, lubricated a finger and worked it up my vagina. That part wasn't uncomfortable, but when he changed gloves again, lubed one finger and worked it up my bottom, I grunted into my muzzle.

He pulled out and removed his gloves. "All done. Clean as a whistle. Not so bad, right?"

I nodded and he told Sam "All clear. You can kennel her now."

Sam led me to where a kennel had been staged next to a baggage cart. It had a covered tray inside it and a foam pad in it to kneel on. "Leave the tray covered until you need it, and then cover it again and secure the cover when you're done. It contains a sort of gel that binds urine. You had a bowel movement this morning?"

I nodded.

"Good. It stinks to high heaven if you have to crap in the thing. Last chance to use a bathroom if you want to. I know you'd prefer an animal relief area, but ours is out of service for now. You want the bathroom?"

I shook my head.

"Are you going to be a good girl for me and continue wearing your muzzle until takeoff?"

I nodded.

"Good, if you take it off, you should put it on again after you land, before the baggage handlers come to unload you."

He took the luggage tag from me and opened the kennel door. I dropped to my hands and knees and crawled inside, pulling my leash in after me. He shut and latched the door, the latches being screened so I couldn't open them from the inside. Then he sealed the latch with a numbered tag and attached the luggage tag to the kennel. Some workers came over and lifted the cage onto a luggage carrier and started loading some bags on it as well.

"Oh, I like this one. She could be my pet, anytime," said one.

"She's a little skinny and anyway, she's a service animal, not a pet."

"When she's not working as a service animal, is she a pet then?"

"Dunno. Maybe. Does she revert to human when she's not working?"

"Honey, you can sleep at the foot of my bed anytime you like."

"Nah, she should be crate trained."

"Whatever, let's just make sure she gets loaded properly or they'll have our hides. You know how they feel about pets and service animals."

Their banter was humiliating but how else should I expect to be treated, showing up naked, collared, muzzled, and in a kennel? They actually did take good care of me.

It was nippy outside and they passed me some blankets thru a small door at the bottom of the cage that I think was intended to slide food into the cage before they covered my cage with a thick blanket and drove the luggage train outside, leaving me in the dark while the cage was loaded. The blankets kept me warm; I would have been pretty cold without them by the time they got me on board. They didn't remove the big blanket from the cage and secured the cage in place for the flight until right before they closed the cargo door.

Partway thru the flight, a couple of stewardesses came down to check on me. The older one said "You shouldn't have those blankets, though I suppose you needed them while you were waiting to load. Take them off now so we can inspect you."

I unwrapped the blankets, put them on the kennel floor, and knelt naked before them in my kennel, blushing a little as they examined me. The older one said "Take a good look at her. This is what a healthy human service animal looks like."

The younger one replied "She's a pretty little animal."

"Yes, she is. You can wrap yourself again, Penny."

The older stewardess opened the small food door and passed me a bottle of water and said "I hope your owner takes good care of you," and the two of them left. I removed my muzzle and let it hang around my neck while I sipped the water. I left my muzzle out until just after we landed.

When we landed in Florida, it was very warm and the workers made me pass them the blankets out thru the feeding door before they unloaded my kennel. They did not, of course, put me out on the baggage carousel. Instead, they moved me out on the baggage claim floor in a roped off area. Eventually, Emily showed up and claimed me.

Emily hugged and kissed me after I crawled out of the kennel. She held me, stroking my hair occasionally, for maybe fifteen minutes while Tracy got our checked bags off of the proper carousel and got my shoes and my HSA shift out of the bags so I could dress. People stared at me until I got dressed. What nobody seemed to have done the whole trip was question my status as a human service animal. We'd sold this story to the airline and we would sell it at the hotel too.

We had left Saturday morning so we had plenty of time to find our hotel and maybe even hit the beach before evening. We took the shuttle from the airport to our hotel and Emily hugged Tracy and I several times during the trip.

When we checked in, the clerk made a copy of our HSA licenses and gave us each a keycard. "While we've equipped your room with two kennels with litter trays for your service animals, we recommend you use the animal relief area near the pool when you can as we charge for refilling and cleaning the litter trays. Our animal relief area is free, it has been certified for human service animals and is kept clean, though we require all human service animals to wear footwear when using the animal relief area."

Emily unmuzzled us when we got to our room. The hotel had replaced one of the two beds with a stack of two six foot long by four foot wide by three-foot-high kennels with thick pads, trays of litter, and blankets inside. "Bunk kennels," I said.

Tracy looked at the kennel latches and wires running from the kennels to the wall and said "They won't open from inside once they're latched but they will open automatically in the event of fire or power failure."

"At least they're big enough to stretch out in. We being treated as the valuable service animals we are," I said.

"They're going to be watching us to make sure we use the animal relief area. Like the HSA handbook says 'Human service animals prefer using animal appropriate relief areas for urination as they find it affirming to be treated as the animals they know themselves to be,'" said Tracy. "Emily, please take us to the animal relief area. Then we can get lunch."

"I'll do that," said Emily. "Then lunch. I think I'd like to check out the pool afterward, so we'll come back and we'll put on our swimsuits and hang out there for a bit. Maybe get some wine coolers."

I wasn't sure who the "they" Tracy thought were watching us were, but we did have to sell this thing to the hotel. Emily led us by our leashes to the animal relief area and watched as we squatted, lifted our shifts, and did our business. Partway thru, an older couple showed up with their dog and they gave us the room we needed to finish.

"A couple of nice-looking service animals you've got there," the man said to Emily. "Were they difficult to train?"

"No," said Emily, showing him the remote for our collars. "They are quite intelligent and learn quickly. They've only recently come out as human service animals but it's already hard to imagine them as anything but emotional support humans. I'm sure they're going to commit to the life after they finish their trial period."

He gave Tracy and I a good hard look and said "It does seem very natural for them. You're lucky to have two of them. Committed emotional support humans are in short supply."

"They knew me before they came out and I need them both. Indeed, it was my need that led them to commit to the trial period."

"It's always nice when things work out for everyone. My name is Rodger Cartwright, by the way. This is my wife, Brenda."

"I'm Emily Richardson and these are Tracy and Penny."

"Excellent," he said. "Come on Bosco. Now that the ladies are finished with the relief area, you need to do your business. Take care ladies. I hope I'll run into you again." He led the dog to the edge of the animal relief area and we left for lunch but it felt like he was staring at us as we left.

Tracy said "He doesn't belong here. His clothing is too nice. Did you notice the dress his wife was wearing and her shoes? Don't trust him."

Emily nodded and said "We will see him again and again; I'm sure of it."

Tracy was right; he didn't belong here. We'd sold it to airline; we sold it to the hotel. Who was he that we needed to sell it to him?

On that sour note, we walked down the street to get lunch.

[Mr. Smith]

With the shortage of human service animals, how many can any one person own? Can they be sold during their trial period? What happens if they try to opt out from being a human service animal? So many possibilities.

[Denemdora]

Precisely.

[Mr. Smith]

With the shortage of human service animals, how many can any one person own? Can they be sold during their trial period? What happens if they try to opt out from being a human service animal? So many possibilities.

As always, your raise interesting questions that tempt me to do another story on the matter. In my conception, the three month trial period cannot be skipped out on and is there to prevent frauds from gaming the system. Attempting to skip out of the trial period would be a crime with a custodial sentence attached. While Human Service Animals no longer have the full rights of an adult human nor control of their own financial affairs and are dependent on their owners, they must consent to a new placement and cannot simply be sold. The owner, in turn, is responsible for the care and upkeep of their Human Service Animal, and animal welfare inspectors will monitor them to ensure that these valuable animals are protected like the scarce resource they are. Abuse of a human service animal would be a serious crime.

[Mr. Smith]

What about sex? Is a HSA a slave? Can they be forced to have sex with their owner (if that is the correct term) or any other free person? It is interesting that they cannot be forced to accept a new owner and must consent. What happens if they do not consent to a new owner? Say they are bonded with one person and cannot recreate that bond? This story in some ways reminds me of Carl's GI Benefits but that person is categorized as a slave with all the accompanying perks of ownership, not a HSA.

[LoyalHound]

What about sex? Is a HSA a slave? Can they be forced to have sex with their owner (if that is the correct term) or any other free person? It is interesting that they cannot be forced to accept a new owner and must consent. What happens if they do not consent to a new owner? Say they are bonded with one person and cannot recreate that bond? This story in some ways reminds me of Carl's GI Benefits but that person is categorized as a slave with all the accompanying perks of ownership, not a HSA.

While the HSAs have an owner on whom they are utterly dependent, they are not slaves. As such, they cannot be forced to have sex with anyone, although they could consent to sex with a non-owner, subject to the demands of their owner, as Tracy does in chapter 03. I'm not sure if they even can consent to sex with their owner, though probably they can. The roll of emotional support human does require considerable physical contact with their owner, including cuddling.

During the three month trial period, if their original owner cannot take care of them, animal welfare will attempt to rehome them. HSAs in that situation would be strongly motivated to make the rehoming work, lest they rot away in animal welfare. But if owner and HSA just aren't compatible with each other, then the HSA will have to go back to animal welfare. If an HSA has accepted the life, then his owner, for a variety of reasons, might attempt to find a compatible owner for their HSA, which might include a trial period. Of course, the issue of being bonded with one person and being unable to recreate the bond would be extremely troubling. Such a HSA might be diagnosed with depression. Perhaps he could be placed with an owner that already has a HSA so he can, at least, bond with his fellow HSA and be treated by his owner.

Thanks for the reference. I'll try to read Carl's "GI Benefits" and his service animal story.