Started with this and now I maaaay do scenes from Chip's year of hell. It won't be in chrono order. But I don't want to start with the event that made everything worse. So starting with this scene inspired by above. I'm probably going to post the scenes to ao3 for ease of reading if you want to read Captain being well....Captain. A bastard.
CW: Near drowning
_-_-_
The silence that his outburst leaves between them has Bait immediately sense he made a mistake. He steps away, breath getting caught in his throat as Captain slowly turns on his heel towards him, “Care to repeat that?”
“I…I…” The air around his leader grows icy and harder to breathe. He gives himself a small shake, swallowing the rising burn while reminding himself Captain is just a man. Steeling his nerves and tensing his shoulders, Bait snaps, “I'm not some animal you can boss around!”
A near imperceptible head tilt is all Captain gives before a low sarcastic chuckle comes from the faceless mask. Bait feels his confidence waver as the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Backing away from the other, his body begs to run, but his feet remain rooted to the spot as the taller man steps closer. A pit grows in his stomach, growing deeper with each flash of what he might endure leaving ghosts across his skin.
Oh how he'll wish he was just beaten.
Captain moved before Bait could register it, pain blossoming in his untensed abdomen. The air rushes from his lungs, forcing him to double over. Staggering down to his knees, Bait gasps and chokes but the air refuses to return. He wasn't struck hard enough to vomit, but being caught so off guard ended the fight before it even began.
Captain continues to laugh as a heavy boot makes contact with his subordinate’s ribs. The smaller body gets sent a foot or two away from the impact. Sucking gasps break up the dazed cries, words completely incoherent but the message is received. Something could be cracked.
“Got anything smart to say now? Hm?” The man all but breathes as he kneels next to the green suited asset. Bait curls up into a ball and whimpers out an apology. A grin pulls Captain's lips into a malevolent scowl hidden behind the helmet.
“No, no! Please tell me how you're not mine to control. How you have any room to complain about the place you put yourself.” He grabs hold of the black straps and drags Bait closer, eyes illuminated by his visor only holding contempt towards the pathetic thing in his hands, “Tell me how disobeying me will go. Did you forget the last time you thought you could refuse my command?”
“...I suppose you need to be reminded of that lesson.”
Breathless pleas and apologies are brushed off while Captain glances at what caused this in the first place; a water passage. He ordered Bait in first but he refused. Squinting at the clear liquid sloshing inches below the opening of the hole, it dawns on him why he may have refused his order.
“You can't swim, can you?”
The pleading words stop abruptly, one could hear a pin drop if the soothing sound of the water moving wasn't bubbling away. As quiet as a pebble skidding across stone, but to Bait? White water rapids raging around him. He wasn't thinking, he just reacted and gave himself away. Goosebumps creep across his shoulders as cold sweat begins to mat hair to his forehead, his potentially bruised rib forgotten.
His silence answered the question more than the disjointed, paper-thin explanation that followed could ever convince otherwise. Captain has his answer and stands, not releasing his iron grip on the straps. Bait's begging falls on uncaring ears as the hapless man is dragged near effortlessly to the edge of the water. Staring at the clear liquid he breathlessly whimpers at the prospect of what's to come, “Ss-sir, please!”
“You have to learn at some point, right?” Captain purrs as Bait attempts to pull himself free. Instead he is lifted to his feet and forced to precariously balance on the edge, the heels of his boots just grazing the cool surface. Gloved hands grip tightly onto his outstretched arm as the other stares at the water, “Look at you, trembling over some water. I suggest taking a deep breath….”
Before there's more begging, Captain releases his grip. For one drawn out second, Bait is able to balance just enough to think he might not fall but gravity swiftly takes hold. Sound is quickly dampened by the chill of the underground pool. Disbelief and panic paralyzes limbs, the surface getting further and further away; he's sinking.
It's...quiet.
Water breaches his uniform and pours into the space between clothes and skin, shocking him into gasping hard. Pain from his chest finally snaps him out of the stupor. He only has a few breaths before his helmet fills up, he has to get out! Hands reach out and find purchase on the rock wall. Kicking against the water and clawing at the rock, Bait struggles to the surface.
Cold water seeps into his helmet, pooling around his neck. Breaking the surface he paws at the floor, kicking uselessly to try and climb out. Captain tuts and steps on his hands, forcing out a yelp. He crouches before the shivering asset. Nervously looking up, Bait is met with his leader's hand harshly making contact with his visor. The force has him sink halfway back into the water, “Sir stop! Please!”
Feet scramble against slippery stone in attempt to resist getting shoved back under. The rough surface tears into his uniform and scratches the cold skin but it goes unnoticed. Bait whines as hands barely have the leverage to keep him in place, “Let m-me up, please! I'm sorry!”
His head is forced down, gasping and struggling to keep his nose out of the collected water. Captain reaches and disconnects the air tubes, leaving more openings for water to breach his victim’s helmet. Alarm has Bait jerk back, he pushes off to find a further away spot to climb out. His leader looms over him with hands tucked behind his back, stalking his movements like a predator. A boot meeting the top of the struggling man's head prevents another attempt of getting out.
“Where do you think you’re going?” He mocks before shoving Bait down and away from the edge. The water stuck in his helmet nearly gets swallowed as the smaller man yelps. Hands claw blindly in search of stable ground but find nothing. Disoriented, he can't stay afloat and sinks back under the surface with a plea of his superior’s name. Captain remains unmoved, watching silently.
Am I going to drown?
Water climbs higher, covering his mouth. Tilting his head back, Bait takes a last deep breath before his helmet is completely filled. Blinking and looking around, he tries not to panic while reaching out towards a wall. Gloves slip without finding purchase, sinking deeper and deeper. His eyes lift to the dim light filtering down from the surface, kicking and clawing but he's getting tired. His lungs ache from the kick and having to hold his breath. He can't release it, to exhale puts him in a worse position. It hurts. He just keeps sinking, every inch gained is lost if he loses grip on the wall.
His legs burn from the drag against the water with every kick.
Glowing yellow light stares at him like salvation…yet attached to his savior.
His tormenter…
So close, yet out of reach. Small bubbles escape his mouth as a fearful sound breaks free.
Please don't let me drown…please…
Should he attempt to get to the other side? He doesn't know if he'll be able to get that far. Can't breathe! Need to get out!Out!Out! Air! Reaching up, Bait feels something wrap around his wrist but his vision is fading at the edges. His lungs finally force him to exhale, opening his mouth to a burst of bubbles. Water floods in, the taste near metallic. Movement begins to slow, he shouldn't have talked back..
But what was he to do?
He…can't swim…
Help…
Hands reach out, water gliding through his fingers without getting any closer to the surface.
Please…
…I'm scared…
Pain keeps him from closing his eyes as he's dragged up. Can't breathe. Hands grab hold once within reach and pull him from the water. Help me, please. Still not out of danger, Bait weakly claws at the helmet release but is too disoriented to find it. He dizzily looks for the only one who can save him.
Can'tbreathe.
Don'tletme…
…
die.
Captain stands over him and says something he can't hear properly.
Can'tbreathe!
Helpmehelpme…help…me..
Please…
His body falters and slumps to the side, eyes rolling back. Lungs burn. Can't…breathe… Hands cup his head and the water gushes out once the release is pulled. Bait wetly gasps and sputters, coughing with tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. Every new lungful might be the last so he greedily takes it. The helmet is then removed and he brings his hands up to protect his head, “I-I’m sorry, -koff koff- I'm sorry I'm s-orry–”
His words are cut off by a coughing fit from inhaling through his waterlogged nose. There's no move from his leader to assist clearing his airways. He chokes and curls up, stomach clenching painfully as a mouthful of water splatters across the damp stone. The coughing doesn't ease until a firm strike to his back helps another mouthful get spat out.
Once Bait clears his throat he's left panting shakily with watering eyes. Muscles burn, forcing him to sink into the unmoving ground. Sniffling weakly he dares to peek up at Captain, barely lit eyes watching him with little interest. He flinches as his hand approaches, half drowned words of mercy spoken into his wet shoulder. The hand gently runs through soaked locks, earning a sound of confusion and hesitant release of tension.
“Perhaps that was too harsh, you're all scraped up now.” Captain murmurs, cupping his face with his free hand, “You poor thing. Did I expect too much from you?”
Bait whimpers out a few more watery apologies, sounding far too tired to do much of anything. His leader merely grins, pleased with the dazed display, “I should take you back to the ship shouldn't I?”
There's no response or resistance as he resecures the helmet, the ordeal clearly sapped all the energy Bait had. Captain pulls him closer and stands up with him in arm. He can feel his legs shaking, “Clearly you can't keep going, let's get you back to the ship. I'll send Rook for a scrap run.”
Bait slurs a response that ends in more coughing and wet sniffles, leaning against his leader. Captain can barely keep his satisfaction from his voice, “He can handle it just fine. You're barely able to stand, here-” He scoops the smaller body up like the other weighs nothing. Bait makes a nervous sound, hesitantly wrapping his arms around his neck. The poor thing is trembling violently, from fear, cold or proximity the yellow clad man doesn't know but thoroughly enjoys feeling. Not to give even an ounce of reprieve, he whispers, “Now what do you say?”
There's a hitched breath, more hesitation that is ‘gently’ coaxed with fingers digging into the damp skin. A warbling whine precedes a tiny, “Thank you…sir.”
“Good, I thought the water froze away your manners.” The man purrs with mock sweetness as he strides back the way they came.
It's early enough that he's the only monster active currently.
“Mmnmh?” Bait feels heavy, shifting and exhaling softly. His head is dizzy and it's so warm. The blankets are suffocating and overheating him. Panting and reaching to push them off his hand doesn't find any. Confusion has him opening his eyes sluggishly, fingers patting the bed. If the blankets aren't on him why does he feel something on him? Breath on his ear makes him tense. Instincts have him try to get up but his body is not reacting well. The haze of sleep vacating his mind when the weight keeps him down. Before he can make a sound, hands circle his face and cover his mouth while threatening to cover his nose.
“Aw~ you weren't supposed to wake up.” Captain breathes into his ear, pressing against him, “I'll have to do better next time.”
The world shifts under him as he looks back in the darkness, what is going on? Tears stream down Bait's face as he becomes more aware of himself. He's resting on his stomach, hips pushed up with his pants halfway down his thighs. Captain is grinding inside him, how long has he been doing this?! Reflexive panic has Bait grip his pillow and twist to try to dislodge him. In response to his struggling Captain bottoms out, forcing a low whine from him. The older man pinches his nose, chuckling into his neck, “You're not getting away. Relax mutt, unless you want me to knock you out again. Although you are nice and tight~”
Bait shivers as he grinds in deep, crossing his ankles as his toes curl. Why is he doing this? The other shakes his head by his nose, “What's it going to be? Suffocate or submit?”
The thought of not having to be conscious was tempting but what would he do to him then? What has he already done? His head hurts thinking that much, eyes half closed as his gaze lowers. Feeling absolutely humiliated he relaxes under him, just wanting it to be over.
“Good pet~ Now don't wake anyone or I will cut you~” Captain growls into his ear, earning a shudder. Bait's face is released and he can finally breathe again, panting hard. Swallowing a moan he bites his lip to keep sounds down as his superior thrusts hard into him. He's deep and it's not physically painful but Bait silently sobs into the pillow.
He hates this, can't even remember how he would have drugged him. Captain’s low ragged breathing against the his shoulders mixes with the rhythmic movement of the sheets has his skin crawl. Pulling his pillow over his head to block out the cabin he whimpers into the mattress. His displeasure only eggs the other on as his hips are yanked into a heavy thrust. Hands clap over his mouth to keep the weeping moan contained. The sound does not go unnoticed, feeling a shift in the heavy body pinning him down. Captain shoves his face down, leaning on his neck and slamming in hard enough to torture that little spot. The smaller man pulls at his hair, trying to block out the sticky pleasure tightening in his guts. Stop! Just stop, please! Not like this please.
He's losing his mind, whining and moaning into the mattress, biting the meat of his hand hard to stop the bubbling whimpers. Captain knows how to make him feel good in such a degrading way. He hates it, he hates it so much. Turning his body against him, turning pleasure into punishment. Just when Bait felt like he was going to burst the older man changes the angle and ruts into him. A whispered growl escapes his lips as he wraps his hands around the pale throat. Forced onto his hands and knees, green can barely keep himself quiet. Too exposed! Attempting to move even a little has blunt nails dig into the soft skin. It's too much, please stop!
A hitched grunt is his only warning of what's next. Hips press flush against his ass, pumping aggressively into his guts as Captain finally finds his end. A fresh wave of disgust leaves Bait feeling hollow and helpless. Hands release his neck and he sinks into his pillow, staring into nothing. Hot tears roll down his cheeks as his captor leans against him, not pulling out but instead rocking against the limp form. A shiver rakes up his spine as his superior breathes against his ear, “You take me so well~ Asleep for two rounds isn't so bad, hmm?”
He twists towards him in silent horror, he's raped him three times tonight!? Even in the darkness he can see the sick grin which has the poor thing gasping. He needs to escape, where? They're on the ship, there's nowhere to hide! Trying to drag himself free, movement has them both pause. Captain lifts his head and grins.
Bait’s heart drops.
The air becomes too hard to breathe for him, throat hitching as if hiccuping. The sheets shiver as he starts to vibrate in fear, tremors short and deep. A hand clamps over his mouth and he's silently forced to his side. Captain angles himself to be unseen behind the other and hides their indecency quickly. He slides against the slick hole, pressing in as Bait swallows a pathetic protest, “Not. a. word.”
Inner muscle tense being violated again so easily. His arms are pinned to his sides under the blankets once the hand retreats from his face. A few heartbeats pass before Citrus hops down, scratching his neck and yawning. The thought of being caught like this has Bait swallowing back a flood of saliva, trying to ease the burn in his throat. He wants to scream or cry but Captain would not hesitate to hurt them both. The man has no qualms with killing the unaware crewmate, he's said it before. And Captain doesn't lie.
Bait struggles to not start hyperventilating, trembling in the monster's grasp. Little orange sleepily trudges to the bathroom and disappears inside. Captain shifts and rocks his hips into his ass, “You're so tight pet, I might cum before he gets out but if you're too loud we'll be caught~ Wouldn't want to have to explain his disappearance would we?”
Bait can't bring himself to react at all, eyes transfixed on the door. He barely hears Captain growling at him which only has the man bite between the shoulder blades. The shock has him yelp before hiding his face in the pillow, getting a mocking coo from his superior. His thrusts are rough and deep, pinning a leg back to keep him in place.
“If I do this too often you'll get used to this. I wonder if there's somewhere on Gordion where I can punish you, maybe HR? So many people, what if they see how much of a filthy dog you are. I'd have to decide if I want to share you.”
Bait digs his nails into the other's arm, crying and shaking his head, “pl-please…no–!!”
“Aw~ You just want me to have you~? Say it.” Captain whispers into the shell of his ear. Bait refuses, biting his lip so hard he draws blood. His face is snatched up and forced to look the other's way, “Say. it.”
“…i…i only wa..nt you…sir..”
“Good dog~” He whispers, dragging his tongue over the broken skin and shoving him down. He doesn't hold back, brutalizing the little crewmate. Dull eyes look up at the door, praying that Citrus doesn't come out. He doesn't want to be seen like this, this broken.
“Hhrrgh.” Captain moans softly and hilts inside, coming one last time in his pathetic dog. Pulling out and chuckling to himself he leaves the shell shocked mutt to fix himself.
A single unfocused blink finally breaks the spell on the battered man. He doesn't want to be seen like this. Slowly Bait fixes his clothes, sniffling quietly. His body aches now that he's far more conscious of it. He feels disgusting and confused, why does he keep hurting him like this?
The sound of the doorknob has him pull the blanket back over himself. Light is a blinding halo around Citrus’ head as he comes out rubbing his eyes. He notices Bait while turning off the light, “Oh, you're who I heard.”
A pit opens up in his stomach hearing that, “s…sorry..I…had…a.. a night terror..”
Orange tilts his head and hesitates saying anything, eyes lingering on his face. He walks past the bunks silently and misses the panic of the other. Bait lifts himself up, dizzy from the sudden movement but afraid of where he had gone. There's the sound of a door closing and Citrus returns with a water, cracking open the seal. Suddenly Bait knows how he was drugged, his water. He had left it on his bunk earlier. How could he be so careless? The sound of sloshing brings him back as the smaller man offers it to him, “Here, you sound tired.”
Swallowing the building bile he takes the water and drinks it, hoping it doesn't immediately come back up. He can't say anything, if he breathes a word he'll drown in his friend's blood. His mouth tingles but his stomach doesn't flip. Citrus nods and wishes him good night before pulling himself back up into the bunk. Left alone with only his foggy thoughts Bait curls up, digging his nails into his arms. Hands shake and head throbs as he presses his face into the pillow to cry silently. Despite the fear of Captain returning he drifts off to sleep.
"I have you. Slow breaths, in and out. Whoa! Ok, ok...let's take a minute." Brooks whispers gently, holding his injured crewmate. He slowly sinks to the floor, Chip doesn't fight, eyes vacant and reddened. Blue coaxes him into his arms so he can keep him calm. Gloved hands wary of the angry claw marks littering Chip's form.
"Citrus is coming, you can rest. Breathe with me , ok?"
There's no response, Chip limp against his shoulder. Brooks doesn't know how best to keep him together while waiting. Hesitant fingers brush against his back, muscles tensing momentarily before relaxing. Taking it as a sign he can touch, he wraps his arms around the still frame.
Silence stretches.
.
.
.
There's a hiccupped sniffle. Then a gravelly whimper.
Trembling hands reach up and cling the loose blue fabric.
He doesn’t know why he stalked his subordinate through the halls, nor when he had decided to strike. Those details don't matter, what matters is wrangling a disobedient asset. Captain pondered idly how long he'll fight for, the lessons haven't quite stuck as he'd preferred them to. He must fix that. His target had no idea he was closing in, only perking up when it's far too late to run.
Bait’s startled scream was quickly cut off with applied pressure to his neck. Twisting sharply to disorient the other, Captain undoes the man’s straps. The smaller asset manages a ragged gasp and struggles, not willing to be taken down easily. He fights like a cornered animal, clawing at yellow fabric before driving his elbow back into his captor’s chest. The pain has the man’s hold loosen enough for his victim to get free. Tanks and helmet are desperately removed to prevent an easy opening. Bait pants and stands off against the other, realizing with dismay he has to get past his superior to get to the door.
Both stare at each other, neither quite ready to make the first move. A low rumbling sound stays deep in the smaller man's throat, eyes darting from total submission to his freedom just beyond. Lips press together as a silent decision is made. Foreseeing the next action, Captain draws his multitool weapon. With one quick wrist flick it clicks into place as his subordinate runs for the door.
He doesn’t get far.
Releasing the wire noose, Captain swings it forward and catches hold of a fleeing ankle. Locking the wire tightly and squaring his stance, he takes Bait clean off his feet with his own momentum. Barely having time to brace, the smaller body falls hard with a breathless yelp. Recovering quickly, he stiltedly scrambles to his hands and knees but is effortlessly dragged further from the door. The panicking man strikes out with a snarl to be left alone, that he is doing his job. Liar.
A hard kick brings the yellow clad man to his knee, helmet snapping up with a growl of pain, “Fucking mongrel!”
Captain snatches hold of his leg, removing the control pole and dragging his victim closer. Bait thrashes and twists, striking out to get free. When legs are pinned under the heavier body, the mutt gets desperate. Even now he's putting more effort into trying to escape than fighting. A hand grabs hold of the pale face and Bait reacts reflectively, biting down hard into the meat of the offending palm. His superior shouts in pain and rips his hand away. There's hardly a missed second before Captain grabs hold of the green jacket and punches him in the face, “You untrained bitch! Biting the only one who can save you.”
Bait barks in pain, body going slack from shock. Using the momentary opening, the man harshly unzips the jacket and scruffs him with a fistful of fabric. Dazed hands reach for his with the intent to get free but is short lived as Captain slams a gloved wrist down, “You're not going anywhere, you still think you can disobey me? I protect you from failure and you keep thinking you have a say in anything anymore.”
He smoothly removes the glove and takes hold of the jacket sleeve. With a sharp yank, he almost takes the article of clothing clean off. Bait kicks and bucks, baring his teeth and continues resisting getting undressed. Nails catch the release on the yellow man's helmet while the other struggles to shove him away. It's knocked off when the two lock arms and Captain earns a head butt. He growls with fury and catches his subordinate under the chin, slamming his head back into the floor. A dazed groan is all that comes from Bait while he is successfully disrobed, the jacket is then thrown aside. Captain pauses as heat prickles under his skin, fingers lingering before shaking the feeling and snatching up the dog. Fight returns to Bait as his tank straps are grabbed up, “L-et…go!”
He twists in Captain's grasp, pushing himself off the floor. In one quick move he tucks his knees under himself, locks his arms and snaps his head back. A cathartic sound of bone hitting flesh followed by muffled swearing has Bait crawling away towards the door.
Logic is long abandoned, all that's left in Bait's mind is the deep urge to flee. He struggles to his feet, dizzy from the repeated head strikes. Miraculously he stays standing, staggering towards the door with hand out to catch the threshold. Freedom is so close-!! A heavy kick aimed at his thigh sends him sprawling across the floor. The door is then violently slammed shut, lock bolting closed like a cell door. His superior snaps towards him, glaring down at him with murderous intent, “You'll regret doing that.”
In such a vulnerable position Bait shrinks away from the consequences of his actions while trying to get to his feet quickly. Captain doesn't allow him to, catching his neck in the noose and stomping the end of the control pole into the floor. Bait jerks and yelps as his face makes harsh contact with the floor. Pain has him hissing, the fingers of his left hand getting stepped on as his superior crouches down close. The man tsks as if he's merely a misbehaving child.
“What I have to do now, you only have yourself to blame mutt.” Captain’s voice drips with thick honey, but the words hold thorns. Bait stares up at him with defiance, wilting immediately at meeting a cold calculated stare. The reality of the situation he's in must be sinking in as fear overtakes the caught animal, eyes darting around as if something in the room will save him. Captain shifts and rests a knee on the ground, removing his boot from reddened fingers. They're quickly tucked under the smaller body. The display draws out a low snickering, “If you're looking for someone to save you, maybe next time simply listen. For now however…”
He opens the snap of his knife and smoothly draws it. The silver tip drags along pale skin, not quite cutting. Bait makes a nervous sound, pressing against the floor in a vain attempt to stop the touch. Pain in his cheek has his anger flare, pressing the blade against the scarred left shoulder. His mutt stiffens and begins to plead, but his words morph into a scream as the steel slices into skin. The blade cuts through the tank strap like butter. Blood immediately wells up and drips down to stain the white shirt. The man listens to his whimpers for a moment, drawing his tongue across the blood collected on the knife. He exhales through his nose with a dark grin.
Dipping the knife between shoulder blades, Captain turns the edge up and lifts his hand until the ribbed fabric grows taut. One quick flick and he effortlessly cuts the tank, observing the panting form jolt. He's curious if his dog will keep fighting even with the cut. Give him hope and see what happens when he releases the noose. After all, the more Bait fights, the more he can hurt him.
Besides…
He can't leave without his gear.
He releases the wire, holding the other down by the neck to remove it safely. Can't cause permanent injuries, that the Company won't forgive, “Now, stay.”
Sheathing his blade, he hopes the headstrong mutt will disobey. Bait gives a small growl and stares at him. Fear and hate swirling in those wet green depths, watching him and waiting. There's no resistance until Captain grabs the cut tank and starts to tear it. The other surges up towards him, knocking him back. A hissing snarl accompanies his dog's attempts to stand, the earlier kick evidently left a mark. The yellow clad man snatches hold of the other's belt after recovering, dragging him back down. Moving quickly, he climbs on top of Bait while trying to force him flat to the ground. One hand rips at his clothing and the other looks to secure a hold. He is unsuccessful at getting a firm upper hand with the blood smearing. The smaller man manages to straighten his arms up, locking them again.
“Get off!” The demand is sharp but ragged, still refusing to be shoved down. He pushes off the ground and unbalances Captain, the tank tearing down to the hem. His superior growls, shifting and driving his knee into the back of his dog's left calf while pressing two knuckles into the cut. The other yelps and instinctively reaches back, allowing Captain to press his weight firmly against the back of his neck. Only balanced on one arm, Bait is slammed chest down onto the floor. Before he can try to get up again, a knee is planted heavily between his shoulders. Hands claw at anything within reach but it's useless as the tank finally gives out and is thrown aside. Labored breathing is mixed with strained whines when Captain leans hard on the pinning knee, “No wonder you never can escape an encounter. So pathetic.”
There's an angry growl, the pinned body still struggling but he has no leverage. If he wants to tire himself out then so be it. Captain unclips a cuff on his straps and unbuckles it quietly, leaving the tail in the buckle so there's less hassle getting it in place. He forces an arm back, slipping the cuff on and tightening it snug before doing the same to the other wrist. Bait immediately goes to remove them, “Touch those and I will carve my number into your back.”
Frozen hands tremble slightly but the message is clear, palms quickly press against the cold ground. Seeing him finally submit, even a little, has Captain release a heated breath. He wants him to submit fully. He praises him in a syrupy tone, “So you can listen, good dog.”
A throat deep growl is the other's response which makes the man darkly chuckle. Grabbing a fistful of hair, he leans in and snarls into his ear, "You're right, you haven't earned that title.”
Releasing his captive’s hair, he sits back and runs a hand through his own. His heart rate is up with sadistic glee for what comes next, thudding rhythmically. That must be why he's getting hot and a bit riled up. Nothing to do with the asset under him, groaning softly with each breath. No. Slowly inhaling, he takes stock of the room proper.
Appears to be a server room with a few racks, two knocked over on the far side. No other door nor vent so nothing and no one will interrupt them. Captain wants full access to the body beneath him, so he glances up towards the ceiling. A few low hanging pipes look just low enough to keep Bait on his toes. He'll use his own straps to secure the mutt. Unclipping and shrugging off his tanks, the plan formulates. Once giving himself full range of motion he chuckles, “Now then..”
Leaning back he grabs hold of the left green pant leg and pulls hard enough to lock the boot under his arm. Bait groans and claws at the floor, failing to ease the harsh hold, “Stop, it h-urts!”
“You’ve lost the privilege of me caring about what hurts you.” The man states while pulling off the boot and throwing it towards the rest of the discarded clothes. He does the same to the other shoe despite the protests. A burst of fight has Bait trying to dislodge his captor, but he is tired and is easily subdued. Captain wrangles his arms back and removes his knee. Clipping the cuffs together leaves his subordinate unable to keep fighting.
The game is over.
At least this part.
Captain easily flips him onto his back. Bait bares his teeth and glares, defiant but the cracks in his facade show unease. The continued resistance earns him a slap across the face, stunning him as his superior caught his ear. With the mutt incapacitated, Captain unbuckles his belt and yanks green pants off in one motion. Dazed eyes watch him throw them across the room before curling up into a ball in effort to keep the last shred of dignity intact. The man tilts his head, making no further move to strip him bare, “There's no escape now. I suggest you take your punishment with no further complaints.”
A defeated sound comes from the balled up mutt, no longer defiant. Knowing full well that he's more than capable of dealing with any lingering resistance, Captain stands up and grabs his discarded gear. Unhooking the tanks, he unbuckles the shoulder straps and loops them over the closest set of pipes. With quick, practiced motions, he resecures them. Giving it several tugs to confirm the pipes are sturdy enough, the man slowly turns his attention back to his victim. He hasn't moved, still curled up tightly. Striding over, Captain crouches down over the naked form. Grabbing hold of the uninjured arm, he forces the other up onto his knees.
Bait gives a low uneasy sound, eyeing him warily. His face is flushed from the fight and being hit repeatedly, sweat making brown bangs cling to his forehead. Soft shallow pants have his dog's lips parted, closing hesitantly to wet his tongue. Green eyes flick from his hands to his face, uncertain apprehension clear as day with how his brows knit together. What to do, what to do.
Silence stretches out between them, Bait growing increasingly uncomfortable being this exposed to another. He's afraid. He's defenseless and vulnerable with no hope that Rook will find them. Unknowingly his breathing begins to quicken. The lull in the fight allows him to think and he begins to panic. His voice cracks in his throat before forming into a shaky, “W-wait. S..sir please! I'm s-orry-”
A warm hand completely stalls out his thoughts as Captain cups his cheek, thumb brushing over the scar on his lips. Wide eyes shakily lift to meet a strangely soft yet dead expression. His stomach drops as the man coos, “Ssh, ssh. It's ok, I forgive you for being so disobedient, but I need this lesson to stick.”
Bait makes a timid little sound, pulling away before thinking better and resigning to being touched. Watching his dog look away has Captain exhale slowly, face falling a little. He wants to make him scream for mercy. To break his inconvenient defiance. To make him bleed and sob. To make him cower before him if he so much as raises a hand. To have him choke on his cock-!!
Captain balks at the thought, fury taking over his mind. Without thinking, he slaps Bait so hard he drops right back to the floor with a grunt. Glaring at where the other was, the man shakes in barely contained disgust. How dare thoughts like that sneak in. His head snaps at the pathetic mutt, lip twitching ever so slightly.
He didn't realize he had moved until Bait shrieks in pain from his kick. Damnit. He has to keep himself contained. He'll kill the fragile thing if he continues to allow his urges to lead. Sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose, “You make me do these things. Did that hurt? Was that too much~?”
The venom spat has the gasping form shake, keeping quiet and not speaking back. Captain grabs hold of Bait once more and drags him to his feet. The poor thing doubles over almost immediately and leans against his superior with a whimpering, “I I-I'm sorry, I…please….”
“This can't stop, you fought me too much. But…” He keeps his voice level by some miracle. Reaching into a pouch, he pulls out an inhaler and pulls his head back. Bait looks at the meds as he shakes it and swallows, hesitating before opening his mouth. Captain presses the opening into his mouth and presses down. His dog inhales the medicine and hangs his head in defeat.
“Good, can't risk opening you up too much.” He hums and pushes his victim towards the straps. He clips a cuff onto each side of the belt buckle so even if he thrashes he won't get loose. Bait doesn't fight getting strung up, wincing as the cut gets squeezed. Captain lightly slaps his face, “Chin up, it'll close up soon.”
Bait shifts and has to stand up on his toes, looking at him with knowing resignation. Captain turns his back to him, staring at the door, “You know, if you really don't want my punishment..” He turns slowly back to him with a tilted head and hollow grin, “I could just leave you here for whatever comes sniffing around.”
Bait's eyes widen as he stares at him, mouth working at nothing. With no response, he takes a few steps towards his decarded helmet. His dog pulls hard on his restraints, “Wait!! P…please, sir! Please don't- I'm sorry! Please don't leave me here.”
The man stops, shivering in delight at the terrified words, “Aw, pet.” He breathes, barely able to contain the hunger the sound of desperation awakened. He steps back his way, “You want to take my punishment? I mean, I'm sure there's some monster who will be happy to make use of you instead.” The man purrs mockingly, holding his chin firmly so he's forced to look at him.
Bait has tears brimming in his eyes, lip quivering as he whimpers. He looks away with an expression of humiliated fear, tears finally falling silently. Captain prompts him, not allowing him to not answer. Bait flinches before whispering brokenly, “Please…I'll take y…your punishment.”
A malicious grin pulls at the man's lips, “Excellent.”
He releases his chin and watches Bait's head fall forward. His frame shakes as he tries to not cry openly. The display has a deep pleasure settling in his core, feeling the despair dripping off his mutt is euphoric. Leaving him there, he undoes his own jacket and places it on a nearby rack.
Breathing in deeply, Captain tempers his desires. Centering his thoughts as he walks over to the strung up body, the man reaches up to his belt strap. He removes his knives and hammer to ease the temptation of using them, placing them with his jacket. That would mean more intensive clean up…or potentially returning to Gordion. He'd have a hard time explaining those injuries away. So, for now…
The click of his belt being undone is the only warning given to his dog before a loud crack meets skin. Bait yelps and flinches away, pulling away from the pain. The man snatches his chin and chuckles, “Bear it pup, you caused this.”
Quivering lips open to plead but are cut off with a firm palm covering his face, “Shut. up. Words won't get you out of this.”
He doesn't allow him to truly understand his words, cracking his belt across his thigh. This time Bait tries to swallow the cry of pain, which only earns him more lashes. Captain moves and gives no warnings to when he strikes next, hitting harder with every broken yip or cry of agony.
Winding his arm back, the giddy man violently swings down. The metal crimped end catches the right flank and forces out a scream. Captain grins and doesn't fold the belt in half to allow the metal to leave bright red welts. Bait pulls hard on his cuffs and blindly attempts to escape after a particular hard crack across his back, “Stop! Please! I’m so-Aaah!”
His superior snaps the belt across the back of his legs, furious that he. just. keeps. talking. Captain then wraps it around his neck and pulls tight. Choking gasps are all Bait can manage as hands helplessly claw at the air. Captain grabs his hair and pulls his head back to get a good look at the tear streaked face. Fear is the only thing in those wide eyes as he growls flatly, “Dogs don't speak unless commanded. You must need a reminder of your place.”
He releases his head but keeps the choking pressure, reaching into his hip bag. Bait thrashes and kicks back, there's no strength behind it but the action only further infuriates his leader. Captain pulls hard on the belt, making his mutt bend backwards and struggle against his strangulation. He finds the item he was looking for and holds onto it with his teeth. Reaching up, he unbuttons one of the pouches on his straps and pulls out a small black container. His victim chokes and shakes his head in panic but is unable to speak. Captain pockets the box and slaps a hand over his face, covering his nose before releasing the hold on the belt. Removing the item from his mouth, the man leans in.
“You will not speak unless told. You're nothing but a worthless mutt that I give worth to. Keep fighting me and I may not be able to protect you from the Company and you wouldn't want that, right? Right.” He ends his threat with a growl, harshly removing the belt as Bait gasps for air. With his victim too distracted to resist him, Captain wraps the item around his neck.
Clnk
The dog tag with Bait's employee number jingles in time with the strained panting. There's a moment of silence before the other registers what is on him, head tilting forward and then leaning away as if it was burning him. Captain walks into his line of sight holding the belt like a silent promise. Bait jolts and flinches away from his superior, his breathing getting ragged. The man tilts his head and grins, “You certainly make a pretty pet.”
The look Bait gives, discomfort and confusion, makes him think of what he just said. Storm clouds build behind his eyes and he whips his belt at the defenceless body. A shrill scream has him realize he let himself slip up, causing an unplanned wound. Blood pours from a deep cut on that freckled face which has the man huff.
That was a mistake. That wasn't what he wanted.
His mind is distracted, keeps wandering and is letting his urges take control more than he'd like. He squares his jaw and taps the toe of his boot on the floor. Dropping the belt, Captain strides close. Bait whimpers and tucks his head away, trying to protect the newest wound. He takes hold of his chin, “Don't hide my work from me.”
Too tired to keep fighting, his mutt lets him do what he wants. The belt cut below his left eye, not close enough to be dangerous or permanent. At least if healed quickly. Running a thumb over the bloody mess has electricity run from the point of contact to his loins. Bait sags into his touch, whimpering, but clearly savoring the break from the pain.
“I'm sorry pet, I did not mean to cause this wound. I'm normally better at disciplining you. Be good and I'll make this one go away.” He whispers, watching glassy eyes lift to meet his. They blink once before closing slowly, nodding into his hand. A malevolent grin pulls at the cruel face, leaning in closer, “Perfect~”
Letting the heavy head fall, blood dripping messily onto the floor, Captain gets the inhalant. He didn't want to have to use it yet, but he let himself react without thought. Shaking the inhaler, he lifts Bait's chin, “Open up.”
There's no hesitation, no resistance as his dog opens his mouth. He's been biting his tongue, blood sticking between his teeth. Seeing the signs of his distress has a deep haze urging him to hurt him differently, carnally. Primally. Animalistically... With a small shake of the head, Captain administers the medicine to his submissive pet. Once Bait takes a proper lungful he drops the inhaler and covers his nose and mouth. Eyes widen, staring at him and wriggling to get free.
“Such a good little thing you are, you can listen. You know, good dogs get treats. Are you a good dog?” He purrs softly with poisonous honey, watching red creep over the pale skin. You truly pathetic little thing, just a little praise and you unravel. Even bleeding, you crave more.
He releases his face, stepping back as Bait coughs and chokes on the fresh air. Drool drips from his lips, tongue lolling slightly past his teeth. He sniffles and slowly lifts his head, the wound on his face already beginning to heal. The welts along his body are as well which is…disappointing. After a moment, cracked lips part, “I'll…I'll be good…” He whimpers, panicking as the man steps closer again, “I'm sor-!”
Captain cuts him off with a hand to his mouth, “This is how you learn. You shouldn't have kicked me, I want to hear your screams, not hollow pleas.”
The strung up dog whines while going a bit limp in his restraints. The man walks back to pick up his belt and glances at his control pole. For a moment he contemplates picking it up, but disregards the notion, picking up his tool of choice. Turning back he can hear his mutt struggling to breathe, hands clenching as he squirms against his bindings. Right, he has to be mindful of that.
With the healing he has to hit harder for marks to stay. The belt is acceptable, but there has to be a more effective way. He pauses and glances at the pole again, a thought coming to mind. Walking to the multi tool he crouches down and releases the wire from the pole itself. The coated metal would provide the marks he wants to leave. Captain stands and winds most of the wire into a spool, too long and he risks backlash. Or undesired damage.
He's not a monster after all.
Bait is not paying him much mind as he is shifting to try and get his breath back. Even with the restricted airflow he screams when the wire whips across his skin. The sucking gasps from the overwhelming agony the thin instrument caused had Captain grinning with a thirst for blood. His shoulders drop as his head tilts, heart thudding in his chest as he strikes again. His dog shrieks, thrashing against his bonds in desperation to escape. All his moving did was give his superior more skin to hit.
The man matches the belt length with the wire and swings with both, listening to the agonized screams of his poor victim. Blood wells up from particularly hard lashes, the damage outpacing the medicine quickly. The sight of the vivid marks goes straight to Captain's growing arousal, unfettered by the cruelty. He has the whole pale canvas to strike and torture and he's going to make great use of it.
The scars carved into his pet's back add to the beautiful marks his tools create. The wire has a penchant to break skin so it's reluctantly discarded after several additional lashes. Bait's voice starts to get raw and hoarse, losing the pleasing song he wants. Breathing hard from the effort of beating the dangling mutt, the man wipes specks of blood from his face.
Bait sobs pathetically between shuddering gasps of pain, his body barely trying to keep itself up. He doesn't react to his superior drawing closer. A low vicious snicker bubbles up from Captain, pushing his dog's head back to lick splattered blood from a tear soaked cheek. There's hardly any whines of protest. Cupping his face, Captain purrs with lust laced words, “Misery wears you so well.”
A rumbling whimper is the most Bait can give, eyes half closed. Being this close the man can hear his struggled breathing. Captain gives none of his displeasure away as he unclips the cuffs. There's a split second where his victim remains standing, but his legs give with a hitched hiss.
Captain stares down at the gasping, trembling body to truly admire his handiwork. He left his dog a sweat drenched, sobbing, bleeding mess. Bait cowers at his feet, head bowed and legs drawn up under his beaten frame. Quivering arms barely keep him from completely collapsing into a pathetic heap, hands curled up to protect delicate fingers from heavy boots. Thick, deep marks crisscross across the freckled flesh like stripes. The man had to admit he might have indulged a bit too much as he observed blood well up from the bluest welts; the marks opened by multiple impacts. He thoroughly enjoys that he can clearly see the braiding of his belt in some marks. Every breath from below is mixed with pitiful whimpers and gasps, his pup flinching when his foot just barely moves.
Sneering with glee, he wipes away his own sweat before crouching down. Bait lowers himself even more, bloodshot eyes peeking past wet bangs. Captain grabs his hair and forces him to tilt his head up, listening to more pained sounds but getting no resistance. Tears stream down the grimy face, one eye half shut from where he struck him. His dog looks delirious, eyes unfocusing and sliding shut. Bait sags in his hold from exhaustion, whimpering pitifully.
“Such a pretty face on such a worthless mutt, truly a waste.” His superior scoffs and lets go, snatching the back of Bait’s neck and slamming him down. A strained whine comes from the smaller body as he's held in place. Heat pools in the Captain’s crotch, eliciting that volatile disgust exclusively aimed at his subordinate. The yellow clad man loathes how this bitch makes him feel. Sadistic excitement is one thing but this…arousal pisses him off. The whimpering is soon eclipsed by an exhausted wail as he grinds a knuckle against a deep bruise. His mutt blindly grabs for his wrist, hand barely strong enough to even hold on.
“Oh, come on~” He purrs, cooing like he's speaking to a child, “If you pull free your punishment will end.”
Bait whimpers and pulls to get his head free, but the attempts are weak. He hisses as the knuckle digs even harder against the deep bruise. Wordless pleas and pain filled gasps have the yellow suited man grinning maliciously. Listening to those sounds makes him want to hear more, there's not enough despair dripping from them. Heat begins to build, but he's too focused on breaking this battered spirit further to notice.
“Are you even trying? I haven't hit you that hard, don't tell me you're this weak.” He taunts, knowing full well his mutt has no energy to get free. Bait begs incoherently, words completely unintelligible yet earns him a punch in a bleeding welt, “Dogs only speak when commanded!”
Tangling the hand pinning the weak body down in damp hair, Captain twists Bait's head to the side. One terrified eye stares up at him, wet with fresh tears. He’s held in place as the man coos smugly, “Even now you can't help but disobey.”
Captain's gaze sweeps over the beaten form, his anger not quite sated. The tightness in his pants has him more than agitated, he has no outlet. Blinking with a dawning thought he glances towards the last shred of decency he's allowed his mutt to have. Haze wraps around his mind, urging him to take whatever he wants. This is his fault.
Bait belongs to him; to use as he sees fit. Can't kill or alter.. but can break in ways that don't leave visible marks. While thoughts swirl, his free hand wanders the expansion of skin. Tiny uncomfortable sounds vibrate from the curled up form, protesting against his touch. Despite the sounds, there's no move to keep fighting. It looks like the lesson is sinking in.
Occasionally Captain would press a knuckle down to hear a hissing whine or see how much fight is left in the body before him. The whimpers do nothing to ease his erection. He vaguely feels like he's been here before and made a different choice. His hand ghosts close to the briefs, pressing fingertips into a deep purple mark near a pale hip. Bait jolts sharply with a breathy wail, twisting stiffly in his grasp. His mutt sounds like a bottom bitch, he should make sure it doesn't forget that.
After all, a hole’s a hole…
He can't be expected to do his job when he's this distracted. He isn't doing this for pleasure- no, this is discipline. This is putting a pet in its place; on its knees. And if he gets off in the process? Well that's just being efficient. He doesn't have to wait until he can chat up the nurses. He doesn't have to ask and can just take. Besides, it's not like this asset is anything more than a dog to be trained.
A tool to be used.
A fire to be snuffed out.
He readjusts to holding the other down by the neck again as his free hand flicks the snap of his blade open. A tepid groan reverberates from the floor at the sound. In one fluid motion, Captain pulls a switchblade from his pocket and flicks it open. He drags the unsharpened tip across the bruised skin, listening to hoarse whimpers. Slowly, he trails the tip down the pronounced spine until it dips under a sweat dampened cotton band.
“S..ssir?” A cracked, confused murmur has him pause. If he proceeds, he can't uncross that line. The tiny, muted whimpers of pain have him leaning closer, breathing in slowly. Under the blood and sweat hides a scent that draws out, “I'm just cleaning up the mess you've made.”
His dog tenses, “M mm m-ess I m made?”
“That's right. Must I have to explain everything?” Captain snaps and shoves his pathetic dog onto its side. His patience is running thin but he'd be lying if drawing out those swallowed whimpers wasn't making it worth it. Bait's eyes are glazed over, possibly trying to block out the pain that radiates off it in waves. He'll deal with that in time. Looping a finger into the collar still fastened around that delicate throat, the man drags the weak creature closer. The only thing it does is lift trembling hands to protect its face.
“Looks like you are listening.” He purrs while snatching up the closest wrist. Before there could be any protest, Captain locks both cuffs to the collar with the bolt snaps. It prevents any form of true escape even if he lets the mutt lie there. Combing over the unprotected abdomen, the man presses two knuckles into a deeply red welt. Bait whines and pulls at the restraints before attempting to curl up, “I'll start with an easy command: Stay.”
A little head tilt accompanies foggy confusion, legs drawing up against the bruised core as Captain stands up. The dog sags against the floor, shaking and groaning at every little move. Pleased with himself, the man strides over to the abandoned gear. He pulls his straps free from the ceiling, putting them with his jacket while watching if there's any feeble escape attempts. His dog only curls up more with a small hitched whine, “I hope for your sake you have what I’ve told you to carry.”
Striding silently to the discarded clothes and gear, the man quickly pats for a small zipper bag. A slow, menacing grin pulls the corners of his mouth. Fantastic, this'll be so much easier. He turns on his heel and walks purposely loud towards the heap. It simply covers its head as best it can with the cuffs and quakes.
The sound of the zipper has green eyes peek up at him. Captain says nothing but places the item he was looking for down in line of sight: a bottle of lube. Bait slowly lowers its hands, eyes wide and mouth slack. The man only grins and presses his boot into the bruise developing on his dog's calf. Whines of pain and squirming away from the boot have him snap, “I said Stay!”
The smaller body stops, hands and knees tucked under itself. Captain draws his switchblade again, grabbing hold of the last scrap of decency left on his pet and cuts a hole in the clothing. Bait freezes, “S…sir-aaaeeiigh!”
The question is cut off as Captain cuts into his right hip. Pain alights his exhausted system, no longer thinking about being fully exposed to his vicious superior. A boot presses against the back of his head as Captain growls flatly, “The moment the ink dried on your new contract you signed yourself to me, I own you.” The boot is removed but Captain leans over his back, yanking his head back by his hair to snarl in his ear, “You're nothing more than what I let you be. And here you are acting like you have any say in what I do to you. No. I need to escalate your punishment and you need broken in properly.” There's the sound of a zipper, almost lost in the swirl of agony and terror. “You caused this. You made this mess, it's only right you fix it. I take no pleasure in what I have to do. If you behaved I wouldn't be forced to do this.”
Dread sends chills down Bait's spine seeing the bottle he's forced to carry being pulled out of sight. His skin prickles with cold sweat, hands nervously pulling at his restraints. Wait! Wait, no!
“No no no, please sir. I don't want this! I'm sorry. I'll behave! I'm sor-” His words vanish as heat prods against his hole. Gut churning horror has him involuntarily buck, one sharp smack has trembling hips still.
“You keep fighting and I was going to reward you if you had behaved. Well...” Captain chuckles darkily and plunges two fingers inside his beaten mutt. Bait tenses around the intrusion, gasping and begging breathlessly for him to stop. Its words sound so familiar that it grates under his skin. Looking up, he sees the scraps of the tank within arms reach and grabs it. Tying a large knot in the middle, he forces his dog's face up, “You forced my hand pet, I have to do this. It's already bad enough that you make me have to hurt you but I can't protect you with this-” He grinds the tip against the surprisingly soft skin, “-it’s too distracting. So, if you don't want to be hurt, open your mouth.”
Bait whines, biting his lip as his jaw trembles. Without much thought he jerks his head aside and pushes himself forward, helplessly pulling at the collar, “I I I’m sorry! Please don't!-”
Captain growls and drags it back, pressing down hard on the weaker body. A hand clamps around the tear stained face and pinches its nose closed, “You think your resistance will make this stop? I suggest you shut up and take it.”
Bait whimpers against his hand before parting dry lips. The man immediately stuffs the knot pass teeth and ties the gag snug. He mockingly pats his pet's face, relishing in the teary pleading gaze. It still thinks it can escape this fate. Stroking himself, Captain applies lube, “What? I thought you gay things love taking dick. Or do you only want a monster's cock breaking you?”
Bait shakes its head, repeating ‘no’ with rising desperation into the gag. Legs kick weakly against tan pants, entirely ineffective against the stronger man. Captain presses against the tight hole, shivering in euphoric delight as the pathetic thing under him begs unintelligibly. He applied just enough lube to not hurt himself, if he tears something it's fine.
He has to fix his toy to begin with.
The begging increases against the building pressure, getting high pitched and bleeding into just panicked sounds. Bait pulls against the cuffs, looking back in terror. Captain shoves its head down, “Crying already? Well, should give you a reason for those tears.”
With a grunt of effort, the man pushes the head inside. Eyes go impossibly wide, staring vacantly ahead before muffled screams take over the battered form. His dog rejects its proper place, clawing the floor and twisting in his grasp. Captain leans harder on its head, trying to keep it in place. All the movement has him sink in deeper, “Fuck~ Stay still!”
He shifts and slams his other hand down on a shoulder, digging fingers into bruises. It does the opposite of his command, squirming and crying out. The muffled cries sound like ‘it won't fit’. The sentiment makes Captain cackle, “What was that pet, it won't fit? Well that’s just not true, is it? After all that Bracken cock you take? No. You mean that it hurts, and I,” He leans over the trapped dog, purring oh so sweetly, “don’t understand why that should be my fucking problem.”
Gripping onto both shoulders, Captain slams all the way to the hilt. He shivers, inside is warmer and softer than he thought it was going to be. It's been so long since he's just taken what he wants, he missed the rush of being in total control. This is significantly better than having to seduce some girl on Gordion, he doesn't have to care. Doesn't have to fake kindness. Doesn't have to keep appearances.
Doesn't have to think of anything other than himself.
He presses the heels of his hands into vivid marks just to feel his plaything tighten up. Bait stiffens and chokes, wailing through the gag. The man grits his teeth, “If you insist on making noise then let me help you bark and howl.”
He pulls out and slams inside, gripping hard on his toy. A warm haze seeps into his mind, hands dragging along the scars to grab bloody hips. Pulling the unwilling body into each thrust elicits more whimpers. Weak struggles no longer agitate, instead bring delicious shivers to the man. He wants to keep taking until there's nothing but a hollow, broken thing before him.
He encompasses his prey, caging the animal in place so it can't escape. It won't escape until he allows it to, when he's finished. The muffled sobs and pleads fall on uncaring ears. The fog in his head keeps urging him to go harder, scratch deeper. This little thing can handle a beating. It can handle taking anything he gives it.
It will.
He grits his teeth and growls under his breath, “You can kick and scream. I want to feel how much this hurts you.” He digs nails into the fresh cut on the right hip, grinning as legs kick out helplessly. Gripping hard, he forces the body flat against the unforgiving floor, “I want you to remember what it feels like to disappoint me and make a mess I have to make you fix.”
His little squeaky toy tapers off to tiny whimpers, barely fighting back even when he breaks skin. Shoving its head to the side, Captain observes its eyes are rolled back. The gag isn't choking it out, right? He can't kill his pet. This is too much fun.
He rips the gag off, listening to a small gasp but the volume doesn't return, “Aw~ Is this too much for you pet?”
A trembling lip is followed by more tears as the mutt whines and turns away to hide its face from him. Seeing the pathetic thing unable to form words to beg has a cheshire grin spread over his face. He wants just a little bit of fight before he hits the edge. Leaning in with a heated growl, he feels inner muscles tighten in fear nearly killing the words in his throat. He wraps a hand around his dog's chin, forcing its head up and ear close. With teeth threatening to bite, Captain snarls, “I'm not pulling out,” Rutting in hard to punctuate each word, he continues plainly, “you'll. take. every. drop. like a good bottom bitch.”
Bait croaks out a raw cry, shaking and weakly bucking. There's no words, just sounds of total submission. His stomach clenches and his breathing gets heavier. Mocking it further, “You can still make this end if you get away~ If only you weren't where you belong, under someone better.”
He wraps his arms around the collared throat and locks his victim in place. Bait makes a choked sound before all the fight vanishes when thrusts get uneven. It doesn't even beg for him to stop, only giving broken whines. It's like it knows it's pointless to fight now. The total submission has Captain groan mocking little words into his captive's ear. He's so close and digs his nails into sensitive hips to make the dog tense up one last time. He grunts, slamming in deep as he tips over the edge. Grinding into unwilling warmth, he sends ropes of white deep inside his newest toy. His groans mix with airy gasps from below, adding to his enjoyment. Euphoric bliss has him thrust his seed further inside before pulling out abruptly.
Not a drop seeps out of the trembling, beaten body. The dog barely moves, sluggishly attempting to curl up after such brutality. Captain uses the ruined tank to clean up, noting that he wipes away blood. Just another wound to heal. Standing up, the man presses his boot against a left hip and shoves Bait onto its side. His dog doesn't react, eyes vacant and half closed. It's better this way, makes it easier for him to remove the cuffs and collar.
Knowing the other isn't going anywhere anytime soon, he takes the time to redress. Tanks are relatched and strapped securely to his back. Cuffs are reset and clipped to his straps in plain sight while the collar is put away. Weapons go smoothly back in their holsters and his belt returns to his hips. Collecting the control pole he even takes the time to restring the noose back into place. Bait had made no moves the entire time, laying there as if dead. The only sign that he hadn't killed him was the shallow rise and fall of his chest.
He strides over and crouches near his poor mutt's head. Dull eyes slowly drag up towards him, blinking once but not at all making a move to get away. Resting his chin on the back of his left hand he smiles, “Was that too much, pup? Maybe you'll behave, I certainly don't want to have to punish you like that again.”
A lie.
A complete bold faced lie now that that line has been thoroughly desecrated.
And knowing that disgusts him.
He'll just make his victim hate it more.
Bait only makes the whisper of a whine, barely overheard from the sounds of the facility. Captain exhales a single laugh and pulls the box out from earlier. Inside is several syringes, he chooses the medicine concoction. He tears an alcohol pad open with his teeth and cleans a spot on his neck. Still no movement from the crumbled heap but a single low, gravelly warble of nerves.
“I could just leave you like this but I did say I'd heal you and I keep my promises.” He purrs while tapping out any bubbles and holding him still. There's a small flinch and twitch of fingers but the healing medicine is administered easily. It's capped and placed aside to be disposed of properly. Slowly his pet's breathing gets deeper and less pain filled. The deepest marks begin to discolor so he doesn't believe he'll have to administer more. Maybe later but it'll be enough for now.
“I'll let you figure yourself out, I'd imagine you'll want to get moving shortly. Some monster will catch your scent once that door is unlocked.” He ends with a near singing tone. That gets a reaction, the dog lifting his head towards the door with a look of refreshed fear. Captain stands and gathers his helmet, placing it back on. As he reattaches the tubes, he remembers something, “Oh right.”
Once again he crouches down, the glow of his visor illuminating the sweat glistened face. Pulling out a blade, he presses it threateningly just under his pet's chin, “If you think you can go tell Rook about this, like it would change anything, I'll make you watch me butcher him alive. And then it would be just you and me, so I suggest this stays between us, hm?”
Brows knit together as dull eyes widen. Captain just stares at the other, who merely sinks away from the simmering, venomous aura coming off him. Growling at the silence, he twists the blade enough to cut, “Speak.”
“..y…yes, ss sir…” Bait croaks weakly, wincing from pain.
“Excellent! Good pup.” Captain purrs with that poisoned honey and pets his head, standing and sheathing the knife. He doesn't look back, not giving the other a second thought as he unlocks the cage and leaves. As the door closes behind him he can hear soft sobs.
Found this from @sickfictropes and just knew it was going to Citrus speaking.
_-_-_
"Were you hurt?"
Citrus is standing before his very quiet crewmate sitting on the floor, who is not making eye contact. Bait had all the signs of injury, sweat heavy hair, red rimmed eyes and that look of guilt the other has learned as a tell. He just needs to know where. The smaller man sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose, "Oh come off it, I can tell somethin' happened with how roughed up yer uniform is. Were ya hurt?"
Bait silently lowers his head, shoulder hunching close, "I'm fine."
The flat look paired with tight lips has the green clad man grimace, he attempts again to downplay to the clearly unfooled medic. Sudden movement has him close his eyes and suppress a flinch. Opening an eye he is met with a pointed finger being held towards him in a 'wait' motion while the other cradles Citrus' face. His doctor mumbles a count backwards before huffing, "Alrighty. Let me rephrase then. Where are ya hurt?"
The tone delivered is firm and final. That puts a bucket of water on the dwindling flame of resistance. Flexing his ears as he glances to the side, Bait relents weakly, "M…my chest…and lower right leg."
His honest answer completely reverses Citrus' mood, the bubbly demeanor returning once again. A mocking scoff has the two stop as Jet casually snarks, "Damn, being a little bitch over some scratches."
Bait bristles as well as orange, who glares towards the light blue crewmate, "I didn't realize I authorized a second opinion. Or any opinion from you."
He knows the other is also injured, waltzing up and slapping a firm hand directly onto fresh claw marks. The man yelps and hisses but Citrus only digs his fingers into the now reopening wounds, "Why ya bitchin'? Like ya said, just some scratches. Now 'carse you should get 'em looked at, infection is dangerous after all."
He releases his grip and shakes his hand sharply, the blood on his glove splattering across the floor, "Keep talkin' like that and you'll never get care from me again."
Jet only grumbles and grips his arm, spitting insults towards the unphased doctor. Orange merely gives a small snort before turning his back to him. Trying to keep his patient from clamming up, he offers a strained smile towards a wide eyed Bait. When green doesn't look like he's going to scurry off, he claps his hands together, "Now! Let's get you tended to."
Bait follows his instructions, rolling up his pant leg slowly so his medic can look at the places he mentioned. There was some resistance about his jacket but the compromise was that it only needs unzipped. Citrus examines the bruising around his ankle, "Did you twist it? Or trip on somethin'?"
Bait rubs his thumb against the side of his pointer finger, hands signing close to his chest, "I misstepped and almost fell through a hole. The room was really dark…I missed it."
Citrus stares at the now limp hands before flicking up to sullen green eyes. The other frowns and blinks slowly. Glancing at the still complaining Jet, orange signs back, "Next time make sure he breaks your fall. It'll be the best thing he's ever done in his sorry life."
Bait barely keeps his choked laugh back, signing small affirmation. Seeing his friend's mood lifted soothes the little spitfire, "I'll wrap your ankle here. I think you'll be benched for tomorrow. It's best to rest this."
"Of course you say he can rest."
"Jet, keep it up and you'll be confined too. But because I'll be breaking something of yers. It don't take much to break half the bones in a human body." Citrus nearly sings with a big grin. The disgruntled man shifts away from the two. Bait gives a small sound of concern but is reassured that he's not going to be left with mister complainer. His friend sets about getting his boot off and gingerly articulating his ankle, blue eyes diligently watching for a tell tale wince. Green couldn't brace himself and hisses softly, "Ow. The outside..nn .."
"Ok, I don't feel any friction so I think it's just twisted. Let me compression wrap it." Orange doesn't wait for response or confirmation, unzipping his kit and setting to work. The fact alone that the joint isn't broken settles so much tension. He wraps Bait's ankle while humming, eyes squint at old marks almost hidden by his pant leg.
They flick up for only a moment, seeing that Bait wasn't paying much attention. Even while injured he's listening for trouble. Taking the chance, Citrus carefully lifts the band to see the marks better. It appears to be old bruising and friction scars. He tilts his head ever so slightly, thumb running along the thin ghosts. Too thin to be rope…too uniform to be claws… "C….Citrus?"
He snaps to attention at the nervous call of his name, "Yes?"
Bait has a fistful of jacket in one hand and the other poised to push him away. He's been caught. Apologies are hastily murmured as orange finishes securing the wrappings. He doesn't mention what he saw but that analytical stare doesn't cease. Green pushes his pant leg down and tucks his leg under the other. Hoping to distract his friend, "Ok, let me see your chest."
Jet goes to make some comment but when he catches the death glare from both crewmates he thinks otherwise. Thankfully, Bait doesn't fuss much and holds his tank up so Citrus can examine him properly. The bruising is extensive, he must've fallen with some momentum and caught his diaphragm. His straps dug in and added to the purple blue clouds across the tender skin. The smaller man could not keep his composure, wincing with concern. Bait glances down and then looks away, getting a green around the gills at the sight.
"Oh hun, can you breathe alright?"
"Only shallowly." Came the silent response. Citrus nods and removes his gloves so he doesn't have to press too hard. The warmth of his touch has his friend relax a little, "Sugar…you can't go in tomorrow. Even with meds this is deep bruising."
Cupping his hands along the false ribs, the medic feels for any shifting as Bait breathes. Being so close he can hear the whispered whine on every exhale, prompting him to comfort his patient. Citrus requests him breathe deeper which is reluctantly followed. Nothing stands out so he tenderly presses down.
The poor crewmate whimpers and gasps, baring his teeth as the urge to bite simmers. It feels like glass is being ground into his chest, flaying his thoughts into animalistic instincts. He wants the pain to stop, it makes his stomach churn. Bait growls as his lip twitches, nearly giving into the need to make it stop.
"I know this hurts, bare with me. You can push through."
Citrus' gentle reassurance snaps him from his decision. He doesn't want to hurt his friend, even when he's causing pain. Bait whines and presses his head back against the wall, tears falling. He'll bare it, he's been through worse. This is…is nothing.
The ribs move normally and there's no immediate shriek of pain so not broken thankfully. Bruised? Most definitely. Hairline fractures? Possible. Broken? Thank the stars no. Citrus is quick to get a stethoscope and warms the end against his wrist, "I need to check yer lungs before we start moving. Ribs don't feel broken but that don't mean somethin' ain't lurkin' unseen."
A teary nod is the consent needed as the chestpiece is placed just above the bruising. There's a small wheeze but no sounds of fluid or the more concerning sound of sucking. Right lung is clear so he checks the left. There is a wet sound but it's faint and will be handled easily by inhalant medicine. He finishes by listening to his heart to ensure the impact didn't jostle anything.
Blue eyes meet green as he places his tools back in the kit, "Left lung sounds off but right and your heart are fine. Here, because of your injuries I'll adjust the dosage so you can take two smaller breaths."
While Bait follows instructions, Citrus applies a topical numbing agent to ease the pain before loosely covering the ointment with gauze. Even just getting some minute relief, the green crewmate begins to relax a little. Orange lets him put himself back together before turning his frustration towards Jet, "Your turn."
