CWs: BBU, pet whump, carewhumper, brief mention of animalisation, dehumanisation, self-dehumanisation, non-sexual partial nudity, forced to participate in punishment, mentions of severe past abuse talked about as punishments, mentions of people being hired out, conditioned whumpee
"Ah! I remember! Of course, that's what I need!"
Brett snaps his fingers in excitement. Of course, how could he have forgotten that? He must've managed to keep Charlie's celebration so secret he forgot about it himself.
He's feeling so pleased with himself that it's a minute before he notices what he's automatically taken. It's Charlie's belt, folded neatly in his outstretched hand.
He hears the rustling of fabric and turns.
It's like it's happening in slow motion. Brett watches, horrified, as Charlie pulls off his t-shirt, drops his trousers, and leans on – no, braces himself against – the wall.
Brett can't move for what feels like hours. Most of his beloved pet's behaviour was conditioned by his previous owners, not the training centre, and he dreads finding out what they did to cause this one.
Then he notices the trembling. That snaps him back into action.
"Charlie," he says cautiously, "What are you... no. No. Tell me your previous owners, The Shelter or whatever they call that building, tell me they didn't beat you with your own belt."
Charlie nods slightly, not enough to dislodge his position, and the fact that he's moving so shallowly tells Brett the pet's knees have locked. He needs to get him sat down before things get worse.
"No. I would never do that. Why don't you pull up your trousers, and then we can sit down? I'll help you stay standing, hang on."
He snakes an arm under Charlie's shoulder, and his pet pulls his trousers up slowly before obediently sitting down on the edge of the bed.
Charlie's eyebrows furrow, and then his eyes widen, and Brett knows he's realised that an important conversation is about to happen. If it wasn't, Brett would've helped him into his own soft bed, now more height-adjustable than normal pet beds to help with his legs.
"We need to have a conversation Charlie, which I think you realise. I know this is partly my fault, because Mandy told me not to snap my fingers at you and I forgot, but do you remember what I told you soon after you arrived and recovered, three months ago now?" Charlie nods. "Can you tell me?"
"That you wouldn't hurt me," croaks out Charlie. "That none of my punishments would be physical, and if any of them were too traumatising, to tell you and you'd change it."
"We'd change it," he corrects quietly. He needs Charlie's input for this. He has so many triggers, and some things he physically can't do. Besides, it's a bit of a reminder. "But that's right. So what made you think I would today?"
"You snapped your fingers, sir. And you're my owner, a person, you can change your mind, that's allowed. I'm only a pet, sir, I'd deserve being beaten or whipped or– or whatever you would do if you so desired, sir."
Brett feels sick. Charlie has so many scars, inside and out, and he's willing to receive more.
"Well, I think it bears reiterating that I will never do anything like that to you. The worst punishments you'll ever receive from me will be things like missing dessert or cleaning up and buying a replacement of things you break. Okay? Nothing severe."
"Yes, sir."
Does he believe it? Who knows. Hopefully he will one day.
There's a long silence, before Brett says, quieter again, "I swear to you, Charlie, I will never let anything like that happen to you again." Charlie bites his lip. "Sweetheart?"
"Even if I'm a very bad dog, sir? You said before but– but you won't treat me like a mutt?"
"No. Certainly not the way your previous owners and clients treated you. And I don't want to know the reason you felt like you had to ask or why you phrased it like that, do I?"
"No, sir."
"Okay. How about I fetch you some water and your favourite treat, and then we continue reading the Charlie Bone books? I imagine curled up next to me isn't the most comforting place right now, but you can always lie on your bed."
"Sir?"
Brett shrugs, slightly embarrassed still after an employee commented that he spoils Charlie even more than Mathonwy. "I always give Mathonwy a treat when he's upset, don't I?"
"Yes, sir."
Charlie knows not to talk back too often, but Brett elaborates anyway. "The planning can wait." After all, ice cream cakes aren't hard to make, apparently. He's more than willing to pay Mandy overtime for her help if necessary. "Can you make it to your bed unassisted?"
"Yes, sir."
Brett smiles and ruffles Charlie's hair. "Go on then. I'll be back in a minute."
And finally, finally, he gets a small quirk of the lips out of his beloved pet.
