Could we request a stimboard for tori please? She doesn’t really care much about what stims you use her most favorite stims are mostly roses and makeup
As soon as Kensington saw him he began to rush through his chores so he could go to his room for the night. He was halfway through sweeping when he heard his master’s voice from the living room.
“Kensington! Get in here!”
Kensington cringed, his heart starting to race. He quickly put the broom away and left the kitchen, his mind running through anything and everything he could’ve done wrong that day.
He didn’t go outside. He only ate what Master said he could. He did all his chores, the TV stayed off, he didn’t answer the door when someone knocked, what could Master possibly be mad about?
He took a deep breath before he entered the living room. Master was sitting on the couch, red faced and reeking of alcohol. He glared at Kensington.
“Yes, Master?” Kensington asked from the doorway.
“I said come here.”
Kensington didn’t hesitate before walking forward and stopping in front of his master. He’d learned his lesson about hesitating.
Master looked up at him with red rimmed eyes. “Where’s dinner?”
“I…” Kensington furrowed his brows. “I-- you said not to make dinner tonight. That you were going out…?”
“Do I look like I went out to eat with my boss, Kensington?”
“Well you...you came home late so I thought--”
“You didn’t!” Master pointed at him. “The issue is that you didn’t think. If you were thinking you would’ve seen that I obviously didn’t come home from a celebratory dinner with my boss because I was passed up on the promotion!” Kensington flinched as Master began to yell. “And you only have one job in this house and you can’t even do that right!”
Kensington took a steadying breath before speaking again. “I’m sorry Master. If--if I had known--”
Master suddenly stood, staggering on his drunken legs. Kensington took a short, panicked step back and his heart dropped.
The last time he backed away from his master, he’d been beaten so badly that he’d had his ribs broken for the first time. His heart began to pick up as he thought about the pain he’d been in for weeks after as Master continuously denied him medication. Master and Kensington stared at each other, both frozen.
Then a smile crept onto his master’s face.
“W--wait Master, no please I -- I didn’t mean to--” Kensington stuttered. He tried to keep himself still no matter how strong the urge to run away was. “Please I really really didn’t mean to--”
“Kensington, you know you’re not supposed to pull away from me,” Master said with a smile. “We’ve talked about this, haven’t we?”
Kensington remembered a lot more pain than talking. Tears stung his eyes. “Master, please, please no--”
“Should you lose your other pinky for this?”
And Kensington ran.
He didn’t even realize what he’d done before he was in his room with the chair propped against the door. He broke down in sobs, his hand covering his mouth. Oh. Oh no. He’d had his ribs broken before just from stepping back not from running away. If Kensington was going to lose his other pinky before then Master was going to kill him now--
Sudden banging on the door made Kensington sob with the realization. He clutched his chest, his eyes squeezed shut as Master began to yell. Violent sobs ripped through his chest and made him nauseous with the power of them. Master really was going to kill him this time. He’d crossed a line he couldn’t un-cross and Master was livid and drunk and Kensi he’s really going to kill you you’re gonna die you’re gonna die you’regonnadie--
“KENSINGTON!” Master screamed, the door rattling. Kensington whimpered, pressing himself against the wall. Tears streamed over the hand pressed to his mouth as he tried desperately to breathe. “Kensington you open the door right this second or I’ll cut off your whole hand and leave you outside to bleed to death! Do you hear me?!”
Kensington shook his head, taking the hand off his mouth to gulp air around his coughs and cries. What had he done what had he done oh what had he done? There was no way out, no way to win this. He was totally trapped. His master would eventually get inside and have no mercy for his stupid slave.
“Kensington I said open the door!” The banging on the door continued, the doorknob rattling. A loud crack sounded and made Kensington back away in a panic. The banging stopped, but he knew he didn’t have a lot of time.
He turned to the window. Master had bolted it shut after Kensington had snuck out months ago, but he still gripped it with both hands, pushing upwards and praying that it would open. But it stayed down, not budging a bit no matter how desperately Kensington pulled. The pounding on the door behind him didn’t stop and eventually his knees gave out, leaving him a gasping and shuddering mess on the floor.
The pounding stopped, and the only sound in the house was Kensington’s desperate and hopeless crying. Then: “Kensington, listen to me,” Master said calmly. “Are you listening?”
He paused, so Kensington answered in a broken voice. “Ye-es.”
“Good. Now Kensington, you messed up. Do you understand that?”
Kensington nodded, then, “Yes, Master.”
“So you need to be punished.”
Kensington’s sobbing started anew, fresh tears falling down his face. “I’m sorry Master, please, I’m so sorry I didn’t--didn’t mean to please--”
“KENSINGTON.” He fell silent, biting his fist to keep quiet. “If you open the door right now then I won’t kill you.”
He lifted his head from his arms and stared at the door.
“I won’t kill you if you open the door but you have to open it now.”
Kensington pushed himself up so he was kneeling. He wanted to get up and open the door, but it was like his legs wouldn’t obey him anymore. His chest still shook with small gasps for breath as he forced himself to gather the audacity to speak. “Do you promise?”
It took a moment for Master to answer, but his voice shook with anger when he did. “What?”
“Do you promise not to kill me?” Kensington asked in a small voice.
Master hit the door, causing Kensington to flinch, before he answered in a tight voice. “Yes. I promise. Now open the DOOR!”
Kensington didn’t hesitate again before crawling to the door and pushing the chair out the way. He finally found his way to his feet when Master opened the door and wasted no time taking Kensington by the throat and dragging him out of the room.
The wind was knocked out of him when Master tossed him into the garage, and Kensington had to struggle to breathe. The trip down the hall from his room to the garage wasn’t long, but he knew his throat would bruise with how harshly Master had him in his drunken rage. He tried to get on his hand and knees, but was pushed to the ground again when Master kicked his side, making him cry out pitifully. Master took Kensington by the hair and raised his head off the ground so he could speak in his ear, the alcohol on his breath making Kensington sick.
“You’re not going to get a lot more chances from me, do you understand that?”
Kensington nodded frantically. He could feel his heart beating rapidly in his exposed throat as the threat set in. What did he mean ‘not going to get a lot more chances’? Was he going to throw him out? Take his other eye and ruin him even more? Sell him to the breeders? …Take him to get put down?
He didn’t even realize he was hyperventilating until Master threw his head down on the concrete, making his ears ring and his vision in his one eye go white for a few seconds.
“Shut up with your stupid whining!” He stood up, watching his slave try to orient himself through the dizziness. “Go to the hooks.”
It took a few more moments for the fog to clear in Kensington’s brain enough for him to crawl to the hooks Master had installed in the cement floor, but Master allowed it. At least he had that. Still, that meant that his fear was able to break through as he crawled on trembling hands and knees. The last time he was told to go to the hooks had been around a month ago. When he’d lost his eye.
“Lay.”
He obeyed, laying down in between the hooks so they lined up by his wrists and ankles on either side of him. Master quickly got to work tying Kensington up with the rope on the hooks, pinning down his wrists, chest, and… When Master got to his ankles, he didn’t simply tie them down like he did the last time. Instead, he bent his legs at the knee, forcing his heels to his thighs painfully. He used the rope to tie his ankles to both the hooks by his wrists, and the hooks meant for his ankles, leaving his feet trapped in place by tension, unable to move either direction.
Master then stood and left to the other side of the garage, sifting through a tool box. The sounds of the metal tools hitting each other made Kensington cringe and close his eyes. He tried to breathe slowly and let himself calm down, but the more he waited the more scared he became.
The last time he was here, Master had taken his vision. Stabbed his eye with a ragged shard of glass and rendered him blind on the right side forever. It was the most scared Kensington had ever been in his life, and the most pain he could remember. Was Master going to hurt his other eye? Blind him again or just take it entirely? Pull it out with pliers or burn it with a lighter? Then leave Kensington a worthless blind slave with no way to ever see what punishment was coming, and no way to work and no way to save himself from being put down or worse--
Master stopped rummaging, but Kensington kept his eyes closed. He heard him set something down by his feet, then stand again. He opened his eyes when he felt Master slip a hand under the back of his neck. Kensington flinched violently, his throat already tender from the bruises forming there. But all Master did was slip something under his head so he was propped up.
“I want you to see this,” Master said, going back to Kensington’s feet, where he set down the tool. But he sat in front of it before he could see what it was.
And then he began pushing down Kensingon’s shorts.
He hardly even knew that he’d flinched away and pulled his legs to the side, the ropes pulling painfully at his ankles. He hardly even heard himself shout ‘NO!’ at his Master. The only thing he knew -- the only thought he had was Why would Master do this to me?
Master knew -- he knew -- how terrified Kensington was of that happening to him. That was why he always chose to use the breeders as a threat, why he brought over scary friends to put their hands on him. It was because the fear of being raped far outweighed the fear of whatever his Master could do to him. And then Master was touching his thigh and pushing away his clothes and Kensington had been so scared of other people doing it to him that he hadn’t been considering that it might be his own Master that finally did it--
A harsh slap to the face brought him back enough to hear his Master talking to him. “--not pull away from me Kensington! You stop it and you listen to me! Now!”
Kensington froze, his chest heaving, his eyes wide and focused on his Master.
“I wasn’t doing that. I won’t do that. That’s for someone else to do if you piss me off enough to actually let them. So you stay still and let me get to your punishment or I swear I will call the breeders and give you away tonight you useless waste of space!”
Slave and master stared at each other for a moment as they both tried to calm down. Master soon nodded and reached behind him for the tool.
“Do. Not. Move.”
Kensington swallowed and nodded, his chest burning with anticipation of what was going to happen. Finally, Master showed the tool he had gotten. Or tools. In one hand was a hammer -- which made Kensington nervous enough -- and in the other was a box of nails. Master pushed Kensington’s shorts down again, just so it showed his soft inner thigh.
It felt like someone had poured a bucket of ice water over Kensington’s nerves. Oh. Oh. He wanted to beg, to scream, to pull away from the rough hands touching him where he didn’t like to be touched and were about to hurt him in a way he hadn’t even imagined before.
“Master…” Kensington begged softly. Fresh tears poured down his cheeks. “Master I’m sorry, please…”
“No, Kensington,” Master said. He placed a nail on Kensington’s soft skin, and let the hammer hover over it. “You don’t get to beg me, remember?”
And he swung the hammer down.
Kensington’s whole body jerked in his restraints as he screamed. Warm blood flowed from the wound, leaking down his leg and soaking his basketball shorts. He squeezed his eyes shut, sobs racking his chest. Sharp pain radiated through his whole leg, and he had the sudden fear that it could’ve pierced an artery. Could his Master be that careless? Or would he do it on purpose and let Kensington bleed out?
He didn’t get any time to focus on his fears as his master lined another nail up on his other thigh.
“Five more will properly teach you a lesson, don’t you think?”
Kensington’s sobs of fear quickly turned into screams of pain.
🩹 [Bluebell - thehordemultiverse] {hope it's okay i sent you two || Mate it’s always okay!}
“Don’t do that.” Tempest muttered. She hadn’t expected Bluebell to be that stupid- or could she call it brave? He had used himself to shield her from an unexpected attack... They had gone to Tails’ place to see what she was doing, to figure out what was going on... And had been viciously attacked by something that looked exactly like the fox- up until it became some hideous monstrosity and started trying to pelt them with tools from the workshop. Blue’s hypothesis had been proven correct...
They had managed to get away without any intense injuries, but Bluebell had still jumped in front of her when a few nails had come her way. Tempest being Tempest, she’d moved to protect her eye- but was more than a little terrified when the hedgehog got a few new ‘accessories’ (although she wouldn’t call them that)... More than a few cuts along both his arms and legs, some going deeper than others.
“Stay still.” She exhaled. For now, she had to clean the injuries- and then get them all wrapped... And if any needed stitches... She’d cross that bridge when she got to it. “Can you put some pressure on that one?” Tempest thanked Solaris she had gained the ability to perform first aid in the field..
Oh I don't mind explaining it really if it helps people understand why nails are somewhat a trigger of mine. (Explanation under the cut)
So when I was younger (Maybe 5 or some age around there) my grandma started taking me to nail salons when I went to visit her. Now two important things to note is A. I bit my nails and still do to this day and B. I was really shy which is pretty normal for my age. Every time we went either I was teased or scolded by people I didn’t know for biting my nails. Naturally this stressed me out and so what did I do? I bit my nails. And this happened for years! And as I got older the teasing just turned into insulting not only my habit which cant just go away overnight, but me as well. And the scolding never stopped. After a while even my grandmother joined in on making fun of my perfectly normal habit and not once had defended me. Eventually my grandma had moved in and once that happened her taking me to the salon was like a “bonding experience” or something and now I see her everyday so there is no more need for going to the salon. My main problem is that mentions of nail salons often set off a chain reaction and I tend to wonder off thinking of other situations in my life where I was bullied and teased. Although, things like nail polish head cannons for characters don’t really bother me or something along those lines. Its human nails and mentions of salons that bother me. Also playful teasing and scolding don’t really bother me but if anything ever becomes to much I will ask for it to stop.
