Linden & Colton - 17
(masterpost)
been a while hasn't it? thanks for the patience everyone! i hope this lives up to expectation!
CW: pet whump, dehumanisation, conditioned whumpee, whumpee begging for punishment, panic attacks, vomiting from fear, mentions of dissociation
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Col. Colton. Col. Cawl. Coal. He ran the name through his head until it lost all meaning or comprehension. He thought, not for the first time, about how Master never called him anything else.
With his old owner, Pet was his name, but he would often be called bitch, mutt, toy, all kinds of things on top of it. Here he was only Col. To his slow animal brain, that seemed like a good sign. It seemed like a real name.
His burnt hand was almost fully healed, and he did his best not to scratch at it. Master had ordered him not to. But sometimes he would look out the window for a few seconds, and when he looked back down his fingernails were digging into the skin.
He was upstairs, it was late morning, and he was trying to make himself look useful by folding towels. Master had left the pile of them on the landing, like an invitation. Pet was sat with his bony legs half-crossed as he worked. It wasn’t kneeling, so Master wouldn’t mind, right? With his old owner, he wouldn’t have even taken the risk, but here he felt… he felt safer.
He heard Master approaching far before he saw his head appear over the stairs. His house was wooden and old, and sounds echoed easily. “Hey, Col.”
Pet made brief eye contact, which he’d figured out wasn’t a punishable offence here, and then got on with his work. He didn’t want to look like he’d been slacking. He almost considered smiling, but it didn’t feel right.
“Looks like you’re doing a really good job here. Your hands are getting so steady, well done. I’ll take the pile and put them away.”
Pet nodded and stood, handing the stack of mostly grey and white towels over. Careful not to touch Master accidentally.
“Thanks. I’ll come get the rest later, yeah?” Master gifted him one of his soft smiles, taking slow steps backwards down the stairs as he spoke. Pet’s eyes followed his movements, when they saw the tuft of fur, hidden behind the final step, at the bottom of the stairs. Jaffa blended in too well. Master hadn’t seen her, and if he kept on then his foot was going to land right on her.
Pet only had a second. He didn’t decide. His body decided for him. Jaffa was too old and too beloved.
“Master!” he croaked, and instantly his stomach fell out of him.
Nothing could have stopped his owner in his tracks quite as effectively. Jaffa got up, stretched, and ambled away. Quite unaware of the way her two housemates had both frozen in shock.
Master reacted first, barely whispering while Pet stood, agape, staring down at him.
“Oh my god. Oh my god, oh my god you can speak.”
Pet took several shaking steps backwards, his mouth opening and nothing coming out, not even whimpers, he couldn’t breathe, he-
He felt the door to the bathroom behind him and turned, fumbling with the handle as quickly as he could, the feeling of Master stalking closer making his knees fail. He pushed the door open and nearly fell through it, just making it to the toilet before he vomited. He couldn’t make a mess.
He’d be punished here, he knew the kind of rages that speaking out of turn brought on. Master wouldn’t bother dragging him somewhere else. But this rule had been beaten into him so severely, so frequently, he didn’t know if Master would punish him. Would he instead just be thrown out? Oh and he had made it so far, he thought he could do it, and there was no way to explain why he’d just spoken without permission through his heaves and retches.
Heavy tears rolled down his cheeks, dripping off his top lip. His body was limp with fear; without the toilet bowl to cling to he would’ve collapsed entirely. Perhaps that was what he should be doing. He should be kissing Master’s feet and grovelling. He tried to pull his head away to see where Master was, but he couldn’t.
He brought up several rounds of bile, waiting for the sensation of a hand, or a weapon, on his skin, but it didn’t come. Perhaps Master didn’t want a vomiting slave making a mess during his punishment; perhaps he was extending his infinite mercy just a little more until Pet finished.
He choked on a sob when he felt his stomach heave and nothing more came up. It was time, then. He had no more excuses.
. . .
Linden watched, aghast, as Col backed away while swiftly turning white. He thought he’d seen terror on the boy’s face before, but it was nothing compared to the sick horror as the reality of what he’d just done dawned on him. Col fled into the bathroom, and Linden couldn’t tell if he was escaping Linden or just trying not to vomit on the floor. Probably a mix of both.
He let him go- Colton needed time, even though Linden wanted to hug him and smile and hear more, more, more of his voice.
It all suddenly made sense. Col was so upset about speaking because he thought he wasn’t meant to. Wasn’t given permission. Linden felt like an awful fool.
He turned to set the towels down. That was something he could waste time on while Col audibly vomited and cried above him. He saw Jaffa and bent to rub her head. She purred.
After five or ten minutes, things had quietened down. Col had finished being sick, by the sound of it. Now, all Linden could hear were uneven breaths and gulps, while the boy sobbed. It was loud, open-mouth sobbing, the kind you would only hear from someone fully broken. Who was too far gone, too traumatised and scared to worry about keeping quiet anymore.
. . .
Pet heard the stairs creaking under Master’s feet, and savoured the last few seconds he had before the pain started. He took in the cool, smooth porcelain, the tiled floor, the fractured sunlight coming through the frosted glass. He reminded himself that he wanted the pain, pain meant correction, and that meant he wouldn’t be thrown back onto the streets.
Still, it took all of his energy not to wail when Master darkened the door into the bathroom. Pet turned his head away and whimpered into his shoulder. He wanted to apologise. The urge had never left him, even though the order not to speak was vastly overpowering. But he couldn’t apologise, he wouldn’t dare. It would only make everything worse.
Suddenly he remembered a film he’d once seen his old owner watching, on one of the few nights he’d been upstairs. He’d seen a man restrained in a familiar way, held before a crowd, and the man was shouting. Making it worse? How can it be any worse?
His owner had been laughing, but Pet had looked away, frightened.
Master was stood over him, now, taller than he had ever been in his life, bigger and stronger and more of a threat than ever. Pet obeyed his instincts and bowed his head to the floor. All his crying had blocked his nose up, and he sniffled.
Master crouched, speaking slowly. “There, it’s okay, it’s okay.” Pet flinched at his voice, pressing his face further into the floor, wishing he could be smaller. “I’m not angry, hey, I’m not angry.”
What was Master talking about? Why was he playing games? Pet was too stupid for games. He barely even registered the words through his foggy, panic-stricken head. They gave him a headache.
Pet felt a hand run down his back and jerked, fully jerked away in surprise. It was gentle, but he could feel the threat underneath it. I own all of this. All this skin, all this flesh. I’m going to grind it up good after what you’ve done.
In the present, Master retracted his hand, and even through the sickening fear he missed its warmth. A thin line of drool dripped past Pet’s lip, down his chin, and he raised a trembling hand to wipe it. He flicked his eyes up to Master, wanting to at least see where the blows would land before they did.
Every breath was audible as he cried. Every shaking intake of air. Pet wished he could shut up. It was practically directing Master to cut his airways off. Press those warm hands against his throat and squeeze.
. . .
Linden had no idea where to even start. Col looked trapped between the urge to run and the urge to bow down and take whatever came next. His body was tensed, a runner before the starting gun, but he was hunched against the floor in utter submission. He knew, from the far-away look in Col’s eyes, that his words were going straight over his head right now. And who could blame him, really.
. . .
“Speaking is okay, here,” Master said. The words were simple, easy for an animal to digest. “I allow speaking. I thought your vocal cords were damaged. That’s why I never made it clear. It was… a mistake, on my part. And I’m sorry, Col. You’ve always been- no, just- you can speak from now on. Okay? Nod if you understand.”
Pet nodded. He just wanted to do as he was told. Nothing made sense, but he had understood the words.
“Count to ten with me. Out loud, if you want, but you don’t have to. I just need to know you’re paying attention. One… two…”
He continued, slowly, and Pet tried to get his courage up. Master had ordered him to speak. If he didn’t, Pet would get in trouble. But he just couldn’t. It was too scary.
“…ten. That’s okay. You’re okay. Deep breaths for me, come on, there you go.”
Pet copied Master’s long breaths until he realised he wasn’t crying anymore.
“Why don’t you sit up. Copy me.”
Pet obeyed. His whole body hurt with how stressed he was. His mind was a painful fog. So he just did as he was told- pushed himself up with shaking hands, mirroring Master’s pose, sitting like a human on the floor.
Master slowly reached up, and Pet flinched, but all he did was flush away the vomit. Pet looked at the floor. He felt exhausted and ashamed and far too tense.
“It’s probably best if I give you some space, now. I just wanted to tell you as soon as I could that you’re not in trouble. In fact, how about a reward? Or maybe that’s just weird.”
He trailed off in thought. Pet just watched him warily through his eyelashes.
“Do you want to say something?” Master goaded and Pet shook his head viciously, his eyes widening. No he did not. He didn’t have wants and he wouldn’t speak.
“You’re allowed,” Master said with all the softness in the world. It was unnerving.
“Please punish me.”
There. He did it. Are you happy now? Is that what you wanted? Just please please please please punish me now, please Master please please please.
But he kept all those thoughts to himself. He would beg if Master ordered him to, not before. Master’s face became a blank wall.
“No.”
“Please!” Pet cried, thrusting his chest forward with the emotion of it. His voice was sandpaper, just barely scraping its way out of his throat.
“No, I won’t. I never- I never actually said you couldn’t speak. You haven’t broken a rule.”
“Please, please Master I knew not to speak, I know better than to speak. I shouldn’t ever have spoken out of turn and I, I, I need punishment.” Pet pushed his knees under him and knelt, pressing his head just inches from Master’s feet. “Please teach your slave a lesson h-he won’t forget.”
He faltered slightly on the he, wondering too late if he was an it in Master’s eyes.
Master was silent for a few seconds, leaving Pet to wonder if he’d done a good job. When he finally risked a glance up he saw a darkness in Master’s eyes that made him whimper in fear.
“Don’t- call yourself that.”
“S-Slave?” Master nodded stiffly. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Master, I-I’m a Pet, an animal, uh-“
“Okay, okay, that’s fine for now.”
“Sorry, s-sorry.”
The last of Pet’s energy bled out of him in the apology.
“You’re okay, Col. Why don’t you get some rest? I don’t come in your room, you won’t have to worry about me.”
Pet- Col, because that was what he was, wasn’t he? Master had made that abundantly clear by now. He might as well test out the name while he was hollow and wrung out. It was something to grasp, something to bring him back to earth, before he drifted off. Col nodded and let himself be helped to his feet by Master, who still never hit him, or kicked him, or let him fall back down. He must be planning something again, Col dimly realised, but he was beyond worrying. He had broken the most important rule of all, and somehow nothing had happened, and he still felt as if he’d taken thirty lashes. Master creaked open the bedroom door and let his pet stumble inside.
Master shut the door with a mumbled goodnight, and Col was alone, on his two feet, words bubbling to the surface of his mouth.
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first half of the taglist!
@newbornwhumperfly @whumpadump1939 @firewheeesky @whump-me-all-night-long @captainseconds @grizzlie70 @unicornscotty @lave-whump @princessofonward @cupcakes-and-pain @bumbumbea @whumpfigure @yet-another-heathen @secretwhumplair @whumps-up @as-a-matter-of-whump @getyourwhumphere @itzagoodthing @whumpymirages @soapparentlyilikewhumpnow @zipadeedooda-drabbles @penny-for-your-whump @briars7 @legallylibra @angel-stars @loyds-of-registry @tears-and-lilies @badluck990 @rosesareviolentlyread
@vickytokio @neuro-whump @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @whumpsy-daisies @control-whump @theydy-cringeworthy @starnight-whump @cursedandtired @jo-doe-seeking-inspo @justabitofwhump @glamrockgregory @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @genesissane @justbreakonme @addyez @httyd-chocolate
