Kirby

Once the sound of his heartbeat no longer filled his ears, he wobbled on hands and knees to the bathroom. Too many parts of him were hurting at once, and he couldn’t get comfortable enough to lean over the tub without gritting his teeth. It would simply have to do. He tested the limits of his aching lungs while he held a hand under the tub faucet, waiting with a resigned patience for the water to turn warm. Not too hot; he’d learned the hard way that fresh wounds burned in warm water like acid. 

But the tub felt safe, somehow. The yellow bathroom light hummed quietly, sparing a soft illumination on the dim bathroom. Tommy’s legs shook, his muscles weak and sore as he pulled himself up the side, but he crawled into the bath like a soldier returning home. 

He sat away from the wall, cloistering himself in the middle as best he could so the cold tiles didn’t press against his body. The raw streaks on his thighs burned fiercely, but he could manage quite a bit of pain now. He folded his legs to his chest and held them there, waiting quietly for the sting to fade. He could feel that burn echoed in slashes down his back where the water gently cupped his skin. If he closed his eyes and concentrated, he could picture an abstract shape of his body, lit by a red light that pulsed like his wounds throbbed. 

He pictured a calm, dark ocean around it, the water drawing out the pain like pus from an abscess. Let it cool you. Let it all flow out. Take a deep breath– his lungs protested, something twingeing in his chest, and he erupted in a painful coughing fit. Cupping his hands in the water, he drew some to his lips and slurped up a mouthful. 

He rested his head on his knees, wrapping his arms around himself to keep from falling apart. Caius had turned off his TV when he came in to get him, and the absence of its constant chatter was stark. Usually it would bother him, but tonight, he didn’t want the television’s uncaring company. He wanted to be alone now. Lick his wounds for a while and feel sorry for himself. Without the white noise, he could hear the house much more clearly. The creak of steps high above his head, the floor unsettled by the cracked foundation beneath. Water rushing through pipes; the sloshy digestion of the water heater. 

He’d already forgotten his original sin that led to this, a troubling hole in his recent memory that was occurring more and more, appearing sooner each time. The really bad stuff, his mind blotted out fast, like it was trying to put out a fire. It wasn’t obvious to him if he should worry, or if he should be grateful. 

Who cares if your brain turns to soup when you can’t use it anyways. 

The rest of his body was not faring well, either. Most of his cuts didn’t hurt as long as he held very still, but the real bad ones sang on and on. Where Caius had kicked him, his legs were starting to swell and grow pink. He put a hand over one spot and could feel the heat radiating off of it. 

With his arms wrapped around him, he reached up and petted his hair, keeping his touch feather light. His scalp protested where Caius had torn at him, and he gently rubbed in circles with his fingers to try to soothe it. When he crossed his arms, it felt a little like it was someone else’s touch, and he did his best to comfort himself.  He gave up after a few minutes and just held himself, listening to the house. He stared at the wall and let his mind slip from him, off to wander in places far beyond the confinement of his walls. So he could be somewhere out there - even as he retreated further inside of himself. 

When Mam moved them to America, she left all her support back in Ireland. He was too young to have remembered much, or really understand what was happening, but he remembered the change. How quiet his life suddenly was. How few people were around. Just him, and Mam, and the trailer, and even though the neighbors all lived so close together, Mam didn’t talk to anyone. When she made friends, they didn’t last. No one was good enough for Mam. 

Not even him, in the end. 

But with no friends or family with a basement, they didn’t have anywhere to take shelter when the storms came. Tornados weren’t too common, but a few brushed past the area every year. When the sky turned green, Mam would bring him to the bathroom, and they would sit in the dry tub together. He wasn’t sure exactly how it was supposed to be safer– something about staying away from the windows, maybe. When the power went out, she would hold him in that candlelit bathroom, and sing songs he’d long forgotten the words to. 

“Tommy?”

No. It’s not time for work yet. 

“Tommy, can you hear me?”

My alarm hasn’t gone off for school. 

A hand on his shoulder shocked him back into his body, and his eyes focused back on the world. Caius was standing over him, and he gave his shoulder a light squeeze before pressing the back of his hand to his forehead. 

“Are you here, honey?

“I’m here,” he mumbled. 

Caius lowered himself more into view, a curious look on his face. His hand stroked Tommy’s hair back out of his eyes. Tommy wasn’t sure how long he’d been staring; but his eyes were so dry they felt tacky. He blinked hard a few times, trying to wet them again. 

“Where did you go, sweetheart?” Caius spoke softly, his voice gentle.

Tommy stared at the faucet, avoiding his eyes. The world was still blurry. But Caius would not stand to be left unanswered, and they were a little too honest with one another for him to brush his comment off with feigned ignorance. “Nothing” wasn’t an answer either. 

“Tiger’s game,” he murmured, barely able to make the sound. Caius leaned in close to hear him, and fingers returned to his hair to gently stroke it away from his face. 

“What’s that?”

Tommy swallowed. Caius’s hands started combing through the tangles, so careful that his scalp didn’t dare protest. He treated him so delicately now, while the evidence of his earlier brutality freshly littered Tommy’s porcelain skin. Tommy couldn’t complain. As delicately as he was being handled, he felt twice as fragile. 

“Baseball game. Never got to go.”

“Hmm.” Caius considered it for a moment. “Is baseball something you’re interested in? You’ve never brought it up before, I don’t think.”

Caius would remember if he had. He paid attention. Tommy stared down at the drain. 

“Um…” he wet his lips. “Not…really. Not in like, a serious way. I wanted to play, when I was a kid. It’s not  a big deal, I just…always thought I’d get to a game someday. Just ‘cause, you know, Detroit. And tigers are…cool.” He finished lamely. 

Caius plucked a tendril of dark hair away from his eyes again, watching it bob back into place, and he gave an annoyed sigh.

“Are you pouting?” He asked.

Tommy turned to him, a fury rising in him so brilliant that it should blind Caius to look at him. 

For the first time since Tommy held a gun up to him, Caius looked genuinely afraid of him.

“After EVERYTHING you have done to me, somehow you still treat me like some brat for you to tame. You have no idea what you’ve put me through, no idea what it means to be truly miserable, truly alone.” A crazy laugh bubbled up from him and erupted as a shrieking cackle. 

 “You have NO idea - no idea what it means to be in this much pain. Give me the whip. Give me the god damned whip and I will flay you alive one ribbon of flesh at a time. And when you’re laying on the floor in a pool of your own blood, nothing but a shivering piece of nerves and meat, I will-

“Are you pouting?”

“No.” He answered, keeping his voice soft. He hid his hands under his knees so Caius could not see them clenched white, shaking with the force of his anger. The roots of his fingernails pulsed dully with pain as he dug them into his palms. 

Let it go. You don’t get to feel that way right now. 

Tears prickled in his eyes as impotent rage boiled down to an aching frustration. He looked up at the ceiling, trying to keep them from spilling, but it was too much. They fell, and he could not hide, cornered naked and vulnerable in the bathtub in the shadow of a monster. His tears burned in the gash across his cheek.

“Here we go with the theatrics,” Caius sighed. 

Tommy buried his face into his knees and sobbed. His shoulders shook as he choked out his cries, and he clenched his eyes shut until the universe dissolved.

“I– I– I– I–”

“I know,” Caius’s voice responded from outside the void, and a hand touched his back. 

“I know.” His voice was sympathetic now, soft and understanding.

Avoiding the worst of his wounds, his touch began rubbing comforting circles into Tommy’s back. 

“I know this is hard for you. I know right now, it feels like this will last forever, and that the pain feels overwhelming. But before you know it, this will just be another moment in time you pushed through, and when you look back on it, it won’t hurt at all.”

His pain throbbed at the edges of his awareness, from so many places on his body that it all bled together. With his eyes closed, the world felt more simple. The hand on his back anchored him; it made him feel real again. This voice was tender and kind, so different than the voice screaming at him before. This version of Caius and that version of Caius were as different as black and white, yet two sides of the same coin.

Separate them now. Separate them in your mind. His bad side is… sated, for now. No use holding onto that anger for him, when his good side is here with you now.

Another hand touched him, now, gentle on his cheek as it guided his head up. Caius turned him so they could be face-to-face and leaned in, nuzzling their noses together. Tommy copied the movement without thinking, and they both stilled when the moment was right, closing their eyes and pressing their foreheads together in companionable silence. Only his sniffles and shuddering breaths broke the still as he started to calm.  The hand on his face trailed down, just barely glancing the side of his collar, down to take his wrist and place his hand on Caius’s chest.

“Breathe with me, Angel. Just breathe.”

Tommy snuck a look at him. Caius had removed his glasses, his eyes still closed, face relaxed and peaceful. Tommy closed his eyes again and tuned his ears to him, finding the slow and even pace of Caius’s breathing, and he did his best to match it. Broken-off sobs and hiccups interrupted him, but if Caius noticed, he said nothing. The soothing hand on his back continued in gentling circles, and another hand gently cupped the back of his head, holding them close together. Caius cradled him there until their breaths came and went in sync. Even Tommy’s heart slowed, trying to match the steady pace of the beat under his palm.

Slowly, he calmed, steadied by Caius’s anchoring presence. How unspeakably cruel, that Caius should be the source of his poison as well as his cure. It drained all the fight from him, leaving him weak and exhausted in its wake. When Caius pulled away, Tommy had started nodding off and leaned in without thinking, chasing that contact for a moment before catching himself. Caius noticed and smiled kindly, dipping back down to press a chaste kiss to his forehead.

“Let’s get you all cleaned up.”

Antibacterial soap poured into the flowing water raised tiny white bubbles that wreathed Tommy’s skin. Jasmine bath oil, floral and lush and so out of place in that dim, dingy bathroom. Baby soap for sensitive skin, treating him as sweet and delicate now, when he had whipped and beaten him before. When Caius bathed him, he brought a big blue plastic cup to help rinse his hair. It was the most beautiful shade of blue Tommy got to see anymore. Caius dipped it in the water to fill it and smoothed Tommy’s hair back with his free hand before pouring carefully from his forehead to spare his eyes. 

“Head back, head back…that’s it, a stóirín, perfect.”

Subdued now, Tommy made it easy to treat his wounds, turning this way and that to make himself accessible. It was routine now; a practiced dance between them that they moved through without needing to speak. Caius was gentle with the sponge, patient as he worked the dried blood free where the whip had bitten through. There was something so tantalizing, even these years later, about how Tommy moved under his hands.  His skin was so soft, so sweet, his boy shyly presenting each wound to Caius for his care. He was being good, holding still even when his eyes squeezed tightly closed as he endured the pain of his cleansing. 

Bruises were blooming in his skin now, deep blushes the color of wine mapping out where Caius had struck him. It was special, to him, how Tommy’s body lit up from the abuse; each mark holding onto the memory of his touch. Tommy couldn’t hide his pain from Caius, no, the proof was painted on. Maroon at first, turning quickly to little nebulas of dark blues and purples, ringed with haloes of yellow. Tommy’s skin bruised so very blue, complemented with cool purples and pinks. So lovely to cut into and see the contrast of that red, red, red. 

A dark and wicked bruise spanned halfway across his rib cage. Caius set down his sponge and leaned in to look closer. Tommy shied away, trying to cover it with an arm. Caius tutted and saw reluctance in the corner of Tommy’s mouth as his lips pursed, worry in his brow. He moved his arm away without argument, but he couldn’t help shrinking back a bit when Caius pressed a broad hand over his rib, gently rubbing his thumb over the center of the bruise. He slid his eyes up from his probing to Tommy’s face, which looked more than a little worried about what Caius was going to do.

His clever boy. 

Caius lightly traced the bruise with the pad of his thumb into the center, finding the apex of the swelling to dig his thumb into. 

Tommy gasped in pain, instinctively reaching up to grab his wrist. Click. He froze immediately, staring in horror at Caius as he fished the clicker out from his pocket with his free hand. 

“Hands down.”

He was quick to correct it, his earlier beating fresh in his mind. He could not help shrinking back, but he had little room to retreat as he was cornered in the bathtub. Caius had a gentle hold where he grasped him, fingers splayed and curled around his petite side. His thumb alone pushed in, hard but steady, rubbing firm circles into the bruise. He couldn’t feel any indication of a break, but this wasn’t an examination, he just wanted to play. Tommy’s breathing turned shallow, pained whimpers accompanying his panting. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay. Just breathe. Deep, even breaths, remember?”

Tommy whined softly, but Caius could see he was fighting his instincts to keep from squirming too much. 

“Remember what I’ve taught you. Don’t fight it, just relax, let it come. Breathe through it, feel your heart beating through. No matter how long the day, the evening comes.”

Tommy’s tired eyes looked up at him, and though he could feel his breathing was shallow around his hand, he could feel him giving into him. Tommy wet his dry lips and took a deep, slow breath in. 

“Dá fhada an lá tagann an tráthnóna,” he murmured, his voice breathy and weak. “The evening will come.”

Caius rubbed a soothing circle with his thumb in silent gratitude before letting go. He would never let it pass his lips, but in his own way, he felt grateful for Tommy’s steadfast subservience. 

“That was very good, Tommy.” When Caius cupped the side of his face in his hand, Tommy looked back up at him with a look that betrayed his desire for his handler’s praise. “You’ve earned your evening off, clever boy,” he told him, and in spite of his exhaustion, Tommy gave a soft smile that beamed. 

“In fact…I have a little something for you,” Caius continued, and a little prickle of excitement ran through Tommy. It could be something good, Caius seemed very calm now, but he hadn’t forgotten the brutality only hours earlier. 

Caius made a big show of conspicuously pulling something from his pocket, small enough that he engulfed it in a hand, and it piqued Tommy’s interest. He held it out, and Tommy cupped his hands beneath Caius’s. Caius dramatically peeled his fingers away to reveal an empty hand. He practiced his slight-of-hand tricks until Tommy was all riled up into a frenzy trying to snatch it from him. Finally he let it fall into Tommy’s palms, who eagerly unveiled it to the low bathroom light. 

“It’s…a rubber ducky?” Tommy asked, looking it over. It was a classic mustard yellow bath toy, and when he set it on the water, it capsized drunkenly and floated there. 

“Did you know it’s common for engineers to keep them on their desks? Then when they get stuck on a problem, they talk it out to the rubber duck until they figure it out. Supposedly, it helps. Michell has one very wise duck.”

Caius could see that Tommy was trying to maintain a smile, but he looked a little dismayed. 

“What’s wrong? Don’t like ducks?” Caius snatched it out of the water suddenly, and Tommy grasped clumsily back after it. 

“No! It’s just, you know…”

Caius stared back as if he did not know. “Well, then I can certainly take it back.” He moved to pocket it again. 

“No!” Tommy yelped, surging forwards as if to grab after it, but caught himself and put his hands together instead as if to pray. He wasn’t oblivious to the way Caius infantilized him, but he had learned many harsh lessons about letting Caius have his way without complaint. And, well, playing with toys was better than having nothing to do, and the ducky was rather cute… 

He could certainly use the company. 

“I-I mean, please Sir, please don’t take it away, I’m very grateful. I’m fixing my face, see?” He pointed to his face, which he had smoothed into a practiced smile that betrayed no revulsion. Just like Caius taught him to. “Pleeeaaase?”

Caius smiled a wide and welcoming smile, raising the duck to wiggle between his fingers before booping Tommy in the nose with the beak. Tommy smiled very gratefully and took the duck as soon as Caius offered it again, suppressing the revulsion in him.

Thirty, going on three. 

Caius pulled the plug and left Tommy with a kiss on the forehead and a reminder to be good. This side of Caius was achingly gentle, and quite thoughtful. Not enough to apologize, of course, but enough to turn and make Tommy feel wonderful at the drop of a hat. Once the water was drained down to the last few inches, he brought down one of his own towels; a soft and luscious bath sheet that could easily wrap around Tommy’s smaller frame twice. Caius held out a hand and took Tommy’s with a fond daintiness, helping him stand with another hand stabilizing him on his lower back. 

He stopped and stared at Tommy for a moment, who looked back curiously, unsure of his intention but not sending any malice. 

“Look at us,” he said with a smile. He raised Tommy’s hand a little higher, small in his broad palm. “We’re dancing.”

Tommy managed a soft smile, sensing his tenderness, but he was also entirely naked and soaking wet. As much as he wanted to forget, he knew he was prey, exposing his belly. His predator rewarded him with a slow spin, wrapping him in the bath sheet as he led his promenade. 

He was toweled off with that big, fluffy towel until he was giggling and pink all over. Caius targeted his ticklish spots, delighting in his rare laughter. He knelt down to Tommy’s feet. 

“Give me your left.” He held out the towel and Tommy stepped into it, letting him buff his foot dry before repeating with the other. His rubber duckie was placed on the corner of the bathtub with a “quack!” from Caius, and Tommy was lifted off his feet with a similarly undignified squeak, tossed easily over his handler’s shoulder to his bed.

A plastic sheet was laid out for him, and Caius arranged him on his hands and knees upon it. He had brought his medical kit in and he opened it, laying down some familiar items on the bed beside Tommy. He prepared a few shots, which Tommy watched with with a knowing wariness.

“Just a little prick,” Caius told him with a wink, steadying him with an unnecessary hand spanning around the inside of his thigh while he put the first shots in. Tommy could still feel them, but they barely bothered him anymore. He was given his series of injections to calm the swelling and kickstart repair growth; “meat fertilizer” was the unappealing name Sam had given it. Tommy was worked over with some kind of tincture that left his skin warm and tingly. The grooming felt nice, but Tommy couldn’t shake the feeling of being a prized dog. 

At least I’m being treated like a good dog, this time.

As Caius’s hand neared dangerously close to between his legs, he realized with horror that he’d immediately started to stiffen from all the attention. His loneliness had given him a needy nature he could almost mask - but not quite. 

Caius was thorough, but didn’t comment. It wasn’t the first time. Tommy was responding exactly as he’d trained him to.

His wounds were treated with a thick, creamy lotion that cooled the pain significantly, and Caius tossed the mostly empty jar to the side. 

Tommy started to relax down onto his front, but Caius caught him with a soft tut, reaching underneath him before he could settle. His fingers formed a firm noose around the base of Tommy’s genitals, pulling firmly as he guided him back into position. Tommy acquiesced immediately, eager to lessen the pressure. His posture was much less relaxed now that his most sensitive parts were more directly in Caius’s mercy, and Tommy looked up at him with enormous, pleading eyes. Caius fought back a chuckle, keeping his look bored and business-as-usual. Any slight movement he made was eagerly accommodated by Tommy, who he knew feared being hurt in his special place more than any other punishment. 

“Now, let’s go over a few things before we move on, shall we?”

Tommy, completely captive by the ring of Caius’s fingers around him, nodded quickly. 

“Do you remember your old affirmations?”

Caius could see the gears turning behind Tommy’s eyes as he looked off to remember. It made the light catch him just the right way, his eyes an impenetrable jade in the low light. His clever little angel, thoughtful enough to make sure he knew before he nodded. 

“Yes, Sir.”

No one else would have the wherewithal to think before agreeing. Not with a hand around their balls. Caius had subs who would gladly agree to anything and everything if they thought it meant any chance of getting out of punishment, quickly exposing themselves as liars when they failed under any follow-up scrutiny. 

Torture on its own could not form the perfect victim. The etiquette lessons, the voice coaching, the endurance training, none of it alone could create him.  Tommy was his little miracle. 

“Who owns you?”Caius asked.

“You do, Sir.”

He got a new click from Caius’s clicker and he flinched. A warning squeeze made Tommy’s thighs tremble.

“You own me, Sir,” he managed through gritted teeth, and he got a more gentle squeeze that did not punish. 

“Who owns this?” he gave his handful a shake for emphasis, and Tommy cringed, starting to arch in to remove any pressure. Caius moved him back into position, up on his hands and knees, putting an arch in his back.

“You-you own every part of me, Sir!”

He got a couple strokes as a treat. “Don’t move.” 

Tommy held position, even though he shivered as he did his best to hold still as he let Caius fondle him.

“Who’s my little angel?”

A sharp flush rose in Tommy’s face at the praise. When he didn’t answer immediately, another sharp squeeze made him gasp. He could feel himself twitching in Caius’s hand, and it was maddening. 

“I-I am!” he stammered.

“Who’s my sweet boy?”

A shiver that had nothing to do with fear ran through Tommy, and Caius could feel his cock filling out in his hand. 

“I…I-I am…your good boy.” His voice was so shy and sweet in spite of their position. Caius smiled to himself. 

“Who’s ready for dinner?”

Tommy hesitated for a moment, thrown by the change in tone, or just distracted from the hand rubbing him. When Caius stopped, Tommy’s brain had a chance to catch up, and he gave a little laugh. 

“I-I am, Sir.” There was a smile in his tone now that Caius adored. He’d broken an intense moment, but he had to let his boy eat before he did anything else to tire him out. He was feeling indulgent tonight with Tommy. In fact, his clumsy misbehavior that morning seemed so distant and unimportant now…

They ate dinner together that night, though Tommy could barely stay awake through his course. It seemed as soon as he had eaten enough to take the worst edge off of his hunger, his need for rest started to overwhelm him. He was pain free for the moment, and his voice was soft when he mumbled gratitudes. 

Caius read to him from his kindle while he fell asleep. Tommy didn’t last a chapter before Caius could hear his breathing slow. He only meant to glance up, but Tommy caught him spellbound for a moment. He was curled up in bed, knees nearly to his chest- on his side, clutching his bunny to him, fast asleep. His perfect little muse. 

~

~

~

Taglist:

@suspicious-whumping-egg  @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @whumpyourdamnpears @generic-whumperz @lonesome--hunter

@whumplr-reader @theelvishcowgirl @sunshiline-writes @dont-be-gentle-please @galesgallery

@2in1whump @sparrowsage @whumpinggrounds

@morning-star-whump @leviiio @alexmundaythrufriday @defire @jumpywhumpywriter

@light-me-on-pyre @slightlydisturbedbeans @dislexiher @knivestothroats @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees

@2in1whump @sparrowsage @whumpinggrounds @galactic-worm @hellodecisionparalysis

@blurryeyeswhump @sirfenris @absolutebeanloverr @girlsdogmotif@scoundrelwithboba