Special thanks to @untilthepainstarts @sableflynn @haro-whumps and @spiffythespook for their help with my cut. Hope it works because it doesn’t show as working on my phone!!!
@haro-whumps @grizzlie70 @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @comfortforthepain @shameless-whumper
TW for noncon suggestiveness, gagging, barbed wire, bleeding, conditioning, creepy whumper…super creepy.
I’ve tried to put this under a Read More cut but no guarantees I’ve managed it. If the TWs worry you then please stay safe and look no further.
Callum is awake. Still awake. His mouth is swimming with saliva, the gag too tight to allow it to get out at a rate that will make him comfortable. And the gag is saturated and slowly dripping his saliva on to the floor at his knees. It must have been hours now. Hours and hours since Master Hayden finished his wine, put the glass down, got up stretching as he went then turned the lights off as he left the room. The glass in his mouth is floating around and threatening to go down the back of his throat. It would probably get him in trouble, but he tipped his head forward to let gravity help keep the contents of his mouth away from the back of his throat. He was in trouble anyway. He had disappointed, let down, made a fool of himself and Master Hayden. The stomach churning feeling of it would not let him be.
He felt awful. He had let Master Hayden down. He had been so good lately. He had learned. Or at least he thought he had. And Master Hayden had agreed. And now he had disappointed him. Disappointed his Master. His Selector. The person who had chosen him. The one who had allowed him to keep living way longer than he should have done.
His focus was dragged abruptly away from his self loathing by the clanging of a metal bucket being dropped down on to the floor between his aching knees. Callum knew that he should look up at Master Hayden but he felt so very stuck, so very ashamed. He whined around his gag around his mouthful of sharp edges. He whined like a sad stupid dog and leant to try to get some contact with his Master’s body. He was rewarded with a knee to his ribs. A fair reward for his embarrassing and clinging behaviour when it was his fault in the first place that he had ended up like this all night. His head was pushed roughly over the bucket and he felt his Master’s hands undoing the tight knot of his gag behind him.
The gag fell from his mouth and hit the bucket with a wet slap, sticking itself to the metal. Glass followed it, tinging off the sides and bottom of the bucket while his drool ran over his teeth and out over his bottom lip. Master Hayden pushed his hands into Callum’s hair and shook his head vigorously.
“Get it all out there,” he said to Callum. It sounded almost like kindness. But Callum was too exhausted and uncomfortable to be able to see past his Master’s games. With his hands cuffed behind his back, he gingerly probed his mouth with his tongue instead of his fingers, awkwardly bringing small pieces of glass to the front where he could spit them out.
“Oh dear,” Callum heard Master Hayden say.
“I see pink on your gag. You bled on the gag that I gave you. Instead of learning your lesson you have spent the time bleeding on something that I gave you.” Callum started to tremble. “I think you ought to tell me your words now.”
“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry.” Callum said, voice shaking along with his body. “My body is not mine to hurt, my body is yours.” He repeated it over and over and over, leaning slowly but steadily again towards his Master, aching for comfort from him. Aching to be back in his good graces. When his head finally made contact with Master Hayden’s leg, it was allowed to stay there. His hair was finally stroked.
“Stop your words now,” Master Hayden said. Callum stopped instantly. “I want you to think about Lydia and decide what should be done to you. Do you need your list?”
“No thank you Master Hayden,” he said.
“What is the last thing written on your list?”
“I should have killed you by now you know,” Master Hayden said. “That was the original plan. But I detest waste and you have turned into quite the useful little pet for me.”
“Thank you for keeping me Master Hayden,” Callum whispered, nuzzling into his leg a little more, trying not to shake, thinking about his list.
“Have you decided?” Master Hayden asked, running his hand through Callum’s hair and down the back of his neck, pressing on either side just enough to make it harder for Callum to breathe in.
“Yes,” Callum breathed out. “The barbed wire at our tree please Master Hayden.”
“Oh you do want to be my good pet again don’t you?” Master Hayden murmured.
“I do Master Hayden,” Callum mumbled into his Master’s thigh. “I feel so ashamed, please.”
“I will go and get your things,” Master Hayden said unlatching Callum’s wrists and drawing them around in front of him to clip them together again. “You deal with the mess you made here.”
Callum tidied away the glass and rinsed out the bucket. He washed the gag until all traces of pink were gone and then he went and mopped up all of the drool that had landed on the floor during the night. Once he had finished he knelt by the front door and waited for Master Hayden to come, his step in one hand and his large box of tools in the other.
“Carry your step,” Master Hayden said. “You may walk today.”
“Thank you Master Hayden,” Callum said, picking up his little step as he stood up, then followed his master out of the house and down to the tree line just a little way from the house itself. He could see his tree straight ahead. A perfectly straight trunk with mainly high foliage but also with two branches that had grown out on either side of the trunk at equal height. About seven feet off the ground. It was perfect. He knew that it was perfect because his master said so. It was a perfect tree to string a less than perfect pet up on in order that he should become perfect too.
“You know what to do,” Master Hayden said.
Callum placed the step at base of the tree and stepped up on to it, turning to press his back to the tree. He was nervous and shaking. It would hurt him. He knew it would hurt but he wanted to be better. He could exchange his pain for comfort. His shame for perfection. His master could make him into a good pet again. He waited as Master Hayden laid out the straps, the staple gun, the heavy duty gloves, the curl of wire and wire cutters. He held his wrists out to be unclipped from one another then stretched his arms out, one against each branch either side of him and held them steady as straps were tightened around his wrists and the branches, his elbows and the branches, up by his armpits and the branches. That would make bearing his weight easier. He quickly thanked Master Hayden for the kindness which he was showing him. A strap was tightened around his chest and the trunk, then his waist and the trunk.
He started to school his breathing. To try to calm the rate at which he breathed in and out as he watched Master Hayden pull the gloves on and pick up the wire and staple gun. He didn’t look when he heard the thud of a staple being shot into the wood of the tree close to his outstretched right hand. Master Hayden slowly, slowly, slowly wrapped the wire over and over around Callum’s arm and the tree, wrapped it from wrist to armpit and then around his neck, forcing him to look up. Unable to drop his chin to his chest. It pinched and scraped and stung, drawing beads of blood from his skin.
Two times around his neck and then Master Hayden worked it down his left arm, all the way to his wrist where he thudded another staple in then cut through the wire.
Around the back of the tree, another staple fired out and held the spool of wire in place whilst it was wrapped over and over from Callum’s chest, down to his stomach, around his thighs and shins. It was pricking at him all over. Tiny needles of unstoppable, inescapable pain. The wire was stapled down near his ankles. He heard Master Hayden cut it off and he could feel his feet being stroked, being rubbed. He couldn’t bend his head to see what was happening.
He gasped in on an unexpected stab of pain around his right ankle. The twist of barbed wire being pulled around it and secured in place then twisted across and around his left ankle, binding then together. The wire dragged heavily from his ankles, scratched itself in to the skin where it hit resistance and could drop down no further.
“Some weights,” Master Hayden murmured from down on the ground, adding weight to the wire, pulling and pulling on Callum’s ankles and feet.
Finally satisfied, Master Hayden stood up into Callum’s line of sight and kicked the step out from under him. Callum’s body weight, mainly caught up and strapped, sagged as much as it could within his restraints, tightening the wire around him from head to toe, digging in to every part of him.
He bellowed wordlessly at the increase in pain and pressure but managed to turn the howl to words.
“Thank you Master Hayden,” he cried out.
He watched Master Hayden step back to admire his work, vision wobbling with tears and the effort that it was taking to keep his breathing steady and even, to stop himself panicking.
“You chose well,” Master Hayden said roughly.
“Thank you Master Hayden,”
“You look so good like this, little pet. Wanting to be good and useful and unashamed. Do you feel unashamed yet?”
“N..no… not yet,” he stuttered out as Master Hayden approached.
“You will,” Callum watched a white blindfold being pulled from the inside pocket of Master’s jacket. The long one.
“M..mmmm…uhhhh…Master Hayden?” Callum stumbled across his words and sounds as the blindfold covered his eyes, tightened his head to the tree, took his sight from him.
“Hush now,” Master Hayden whispered into his ear. Callum could feel his Master’s fingertips trailing across the skin that wasn’t wrapped in wire. Feathering across his arms, his chest. His stomach. Further and further.
He felt his Master step away. He heard rustling.
“You’ll be perfect again soon,” whispered in his ear just as his noise cancelling headphones slipped over his head, leaving him dark, sightless, bound in pain and silence.
Callum let himself feel his loss of senses. He would be good. He would be good again. He would be made good again. Master Hayden would make him perfect again.
