The Gilded Cage: Chapter 3
-
I'm back! This chapter is not my favorite thing I've ever written, but I physically had to force myself to write it since I've lost inspiration recently. Hope you enjoy it anyway!
-
Content: Pet whump, Dehumanization, Choking, Manhandling, Cage, Public Humiliation (Kind of), Collar, Multiple whumpers, Traumatized Whumpee, Slightly defiant Whumpee, Mention of hair grabbing, Brief implication of minor whump (Again, Kind of, if you think about the future means after a certain sentence)
-
He guessed right. This sucked more than Mutt thought most things sucked.
He adjusted how he was lying on the pedestal Nash had chained him to. Even though his nose was aching, and usually pain was enough entertainment for him, he was bored to death at whatever dinner party Nash had going on.
The brat certainly wasn’t kidding when he said he considered him his prized pooch. Only, Mutt wasn’t acting very much like a dog. He was more of a decoration right now.
He would’ve been fine with that, but that meant being eye-candy for all of Nash’s vile friends. Some of them had stopped to chat, but Mutt had been told he wasn’t to speak to anyone but Nash.
Perfect, actually. The last thing he wanted was to have a conversation with a noble person who believed themselves as important to him as his ‘master.’ Ugh. Even thinking that he had a master made bile shoot through the back of Mutt’s throat.
Most of all, he was worried about how he looked to his staff. Well… who used to be his staff? Maybe? It was all very unclear.
Point is, all the people he used to boss around were now seeing him chained like a dog to a post. In a whore’s outfit to top it off. Hooray! It was Mutt’s fairytail!
He’d already struggled with keeping authority, only being eighteen and having no real power. This would definitely knock his street-cred down more than a few notches.
He’d seen Rivia from afar, serving drinks and passing out tiny versions of food, because the smaller it is the fancier, Mutt guessed.
He never understood that. If he was rich, he would have an entire feast all to himself with servings as big as they could be.
Tyus had stopped to talk to him a few times, mostly asking where he should stand and when. Stars, he was helpless unless you walked him through exactly what needed to be done, step-by-step.
That was usually why Tyus was Mutt’s buddy. Mutt was pretty much the only one who was patient enough to deal with the constant questions.
He didn’t mind. He honestly enjoyed Tyus being close by. He made Mutt feel safe. Even though Tyus was only a year older, rather lanky, and sweet as pie, he was tall enough that most people didn’t bother questioning Mutt’s authority when he was with him.
Mutt stifled another yawn… not very convincingly, he’ll admit.
He wasn’t used to being up so late. Norrix always went to bed early, and obviously, Mutt always went to bed with him.
It was already hours past Mutt’s bedtime, and the party seemingly was just getting started. He had tried to nap a couple times, but Nash had caught him. He hadn’t hit him, but his scalp still hurt from the tight grip. For now though, the thunder outside was keeping him up.
Another voice yanked him from his thoughts. “Awh, are you tired already, boy?”
One of Nash’s childhood friends, Ivor.
In some other world, Ivor would be a bully at one of his family’s farms somewhere, but ever since Nash had found a fondness for him, he was a pain in the neck for servants everywhere.
“That collar is a fantastic look for you, Buddy.” Ivor mused. “I’ve missed you, you know. Since Nash will be helping his father, he’ll be busy. I’ll bet he’d need help caring for you.”
Like he’d ever ask you. Mutt thought, but what came out was much more acceptable as an answer.
“That’s very generous of you, sir.” He forced out, earning a pleased smile on Ivor’s face.
“It is, isn’t it?” He purred, one hand reaching up to ruffle Mutt’s hair. “We could go on nice long walks together, and I’ll be moving in, to help Nash out with some things, so, if he’s ever gone on a business trip, you can sleep in my room.”
A cold wave of dread washed over him. Not only did going on a walk, a public display, sound terrible, being anywhere near that guy while he was sleeping and unable to defend himself. Not that he could do much now.
Before Mutt could force out another polite reply, Ivor stumbled forward abruptly.
Mutt barely reared back in time to not be headbutted, which his swollen nose was grateful for, but the relief faded quickly when he noticed Ivor’s face was red with anger as he whirled around.
His hand lashed out, finding a home in the hair of the person who had run into him. And, that person was Tyus.
“Are you stupid!?” He demanded, nose to nose with Tyus, hand still tangled in his braids.
“No.” Tyus replied bluntly, fingers twitching on the sides of the tray he was carrying. “Are you?”
Mutt’s heart dropped. Tyus, you absolute buffoon.
Ivor’s face went beet red, and Mut could practically see smoke rising from his ears, but maybe that was just an illusion from his broken nose. Probably not, but Mutt loved to be petty.
Luckily enough, Nash noticed before Ivor got too… too Ivor, really.
“Woah, woah, Ivor. Calm down.” He said, but his tone was anything but agitated. “We have to be careful with the domestics. If you have frustrations, that’s what Mutt is for.”
Oh, how sweet of you. He thought to himself. Like you haven’t embarrassed me enough.
Ivor paused, clearly considering something as he pushed Tyus away from him. “Well, Mutt was just being incredibly disrespectful.”
If Mutt’s heart could’ve dropped any lower, it would’ve.
“What?” He yelped, voice rising in panic as Nash’s head snapped to him, a dark look in his eye. “I–I wasn’t. I swear I wasn’t. Sir—Master—I-I was being good!”
Nash’s hand shot out, snatching him by the collar until Mutt could barely breath between his fingers and the cinched leather, but Nash simply turned back to Ivor.
“What was he doing, other than causing a scene just now?” He asked, voice deceptively calm.
“Well, we were having a conversation, and he didn’t respond to my last statement.” Ivor said smugly.
Nash’s fingers twisted tighter in his collar, limiting his oxygen supply. He twisted on the pedestal, trying to wrench Nash off, but when he wasn’t budging, Mutt whined and just took what little air he could through his crushed windpipe.
Nash didn’t seem to care. “Really? I gave him specific orders not to speak to anyone, but then, he started a conversation, and ignored you?”
No! Mutt thought desperately. As much as he wanted to shriek that all of this was Tyus’ fault, that Nash wouldn’t even be over here if it weren’t for him, but even if he could speak, he knew he wouldn’t.
Saying something like that could get Tyus fired, and Tyus relied on the room and board that came with being a servant. He was only nineteen, he had hardly any money to his name, and he had no family he could stay with. Getting him fired was as good as killing him.
He didn’t exactly care about the rest of the conversation, he was more focused on breathing through the thin straw he was allowed, but he saw Tyus shuffling away with a guilty look in his eyes. His ears were ringing so badly he couldn’t hear anything anyway, and the edges of his vision were starting to go fuzzy.
He was vaguely aware of Nash unclipping him from his pedestal with his free hand before releasing his collar and wrapping his hands around the chain which had become Mutt’s leash.
Mutt was so distracted by gasping for a full gulp of air that he didn’t notice he was being dragged off the pedestal until he hit the marble stairs that led to it.
He couldn’t help the yelp that escaped him as his jaw cracked against the shinny floor.Nash didn’t slow for him either. He just kept going, dragging Mutt along.
At least the floors had just been cleaned and he wasn’t being dragged through dust. Though he was quite literally grasping at straws to find things to be grateful for.
The people around him were laughing at him, and it didn’t look like any of them had any sympathy. Mutt’s face heated with humiliation as he felt every onlooker’s eyes roving over him as they owned him as much as Nash did.
He managed to get up on his knees to save his stomach from scraping along the floor as Nash dragged him toward the door, but he didn’t bother trying to get up on his feet.
He quickly regretted that choice as he dragged him toward a door that led to the side yard. The yard that was mostly gravel. The side yard that had his cage in it.
It was storming. Thunder and lightning, close to hail, storming. He wouldn’t put Mutt outside in that, would he? No.
He’d been outside when it was storming before, but Norrix always brought him in when it started to thunder. Metal and lightning didn’t exactly go well together, after all.
That’s when Mutt decided to flip around and dig his heels into the floor.
“M-Master, you—you can’t put me outside in that!” He yelped. “My cage is metal! I-I could die!”
Nash did stop, but only to glare down at him.
“Don’t be an idiot, Mutt. Metal doesn’t attract lightning. It only conducts well when it already gets struck.” He snapped, then knelt down to be on his level. “You have embarrassed me thoroughly tonight. The only reason you aren’t getting whipped is because I don’t want to send anyone else out in this mess.”
Mutt whined as thunder cracked above him yet again. He might’ve begged to be left alone, to stay inside where it was warm and dry, and not too loud, but he knew it was no good.
At the moment, Nash simply seemed to be annoyed. The last thing he wanted was to send him spiralling into actual anger. Mutt didn’t want to know what that looked like for him.
“That’s what I thought.” He hissed as he stood up again, eyes scanning the corridor.
Mutt eased himself back onto his knees, fighting the urge to stand. He’d stand when they started moving again. He wanted to be as small as possible right now.
For his safety, and for Tyus’s. Though he wasn’t sure how much he could do for his friend now that he’d put a target on his back with Ivor.
“You!” He shouted, pointing to one of the bigger cooks who was obviously on a break at the moment. “Take Mutt outside to his cage.”
“You want to put him outside in this weather?” Even that cook, Burtsie, who had never really cared what Mutt did or didn’t do, had a surprised expression on his face. “Half the staff are talking about staying here tonight so they don’t have to go outside, and you want to put him out there for who-knows-how-long?”
“Don’t question me!” Nash yelled. “You can have an extra long break to change your uniform, just get this ungrateful animal outside!”
Mutt shifted his eyes to the floor, but he could feel Burtsie’s eyes on him. He wanted to stop shaking, he was meant to be his boss, not the problem he was meant to drag around, but he couldn’t.
He hated the rain. He’d always hated when Norrix put him outside in the rain. It was worse than the dungeons and worse than the stocks. It was cold and miserable, and he hadn’t done anything wrong.
It wasn’t fair! Why was his life never fair?
“Alright.” Burtsie murmured after a minute, but Mutt didn’t look up. He couldn’t.
He heard the shuffle of feet, and the transfer of his chain from one hand to another followed by the jingle of keys transferring too. And out of the corner of his eye he saw Nash slip away, muttering about how his party was ruined.
He didn’t move until Burtsie gave the chain around his collar a light tug, then he carefully made his way to his feet and followed Burtsie to the door.
The clink of keys, a creaking of the door, three footsteps and he was out and into the rain. Immediately getting doused.
It was like ice raining down on his skin, which, thanks to the flimsy outfit that was entirely doused within the two seconds he started to walk to his cage, was not covered at all.
The cage was large for a dog, but small for a human. Rusty and jagged and so uncomfortable. A small padlock hung from the door, promising to keep him locked in the rain for as long as Nash decided.
He sank to his knees in front of it when Burtsie opened the cage door, but he didn’t go in right away. He glanced up at the older cook, silently pleading for sympathy, for pity, for anything that meant he wouldn’t be left out there.
Something flashed in his eyes, but it was gone before Mutt could make out what it was. “Go on. I don’ wanna be out here.”
Mutt didn’t move yet, but he forced his head back to the cage and just stared. All he could think was that he was already cold. That he didn’t want to go in his cage. There was a strange feeling in his throat, but he couldn’t tell if it was nausea or the tears he was fighting back.
Then a hand came in contact with the back of his neck and pushed him forward. “Alright, boy, I’m gettin’ cold. In ya go.”
Mutt let out a wet gasp as he crawled into the cage and curled against the cold metal bars, rain still pouring in from the sky and soaking him ever further.
He watched Burtsie close the door and lock it before vanishing into the rain, his footsteps squelching in the soaked gravel.
That was it. No final look back of guilt. No murmured apologies. Nothing. Mutt was left there to rot, knowing nobody cared about him.
And out there, in the cold, shivering so hard the cage shook with him, flinching at every crack of thunder and light that flashed through the sky, all he could think about was if his parents left the same way.
He had been four when he’d started living with Norrix, so he didn’t quite remember. And oftentimes when he couldn’t sleep, he couldn’t help but wonder if they’d left like Burtsie had just now, or if they’d cried. If they’d hugged him and told him it’d be okay.
He wondered if he’d had siblings and just forgotten them. He wondered if his parents had forgotten about him. He wondered if they ever planned on coming back for him, or if they had tried but Norrix had denied them. He wondered if they’d ever written. Not that Mutt had ever gotten any letters, and even if he had he wouldn’t have been able to read them, but did they try at least?
But most of all, he wondered why. Why had they given him up? Was he too much of a problem? Could they not afford him? Did they just not love him enough? What had he done so wrong in his four years of life to make him deserve this?
He didn’t think he’d ever know, and now, he was starting to forget why he cared so much. From the looks of things, he was going to die here. Probably sooner rather than later.
But he did care. He wanted to know. He wanted to go home. Wherever that was. He just knew it wasn’t here. He had a place before Norrix bought him. He had a name that wasn’t ‘Mutt.’
He just needed to find it.
~Taglist~
@oddsconvert
@andithewhumper
@yellowcatcallshome
