Lil pathetic guys and gals and pals

'Alright, pretty boy.' Jez had come, it seemed with an announcement. 'Legs like yours are just made for silly things like running away.'

Jez made a show of grabbing Issan's thigh, smoothing his hand where goosebumps formed. Issan snarled through the fabric, pulling tight into the corners of his mouth, chafing his skin. Jez grinned–all teeth.

'Woah now, gorgeous. Since you loved the makeup so much, I'm thinking you get another choice.'

The last choice Jez gave Issan did leave makeup as the preferable option. There were no mirrors in his holding room, and if Issan ignored the thickness he felt on his skin, and the sudden heaviness of his eyes, he could pretend that he hadn't been 'dolled up'.

That was easier than two matching black eyes, though Jez had been disappointed when he hadn't 'picked his punches'. Dumbass pun.

Issan had attitude, but he also had sense.

Jez whistled sharply, yanking Issan from his thoughts and summoning two mask-clad figures from the hallway. One of them, a man, Issan thought, was holding a large hammer as if he were presenting a sceptre to a king. The other, far more concerningly, had a long, fine fabric draped across their arms with a pair of shoes balancing on it.

Well. Issan wasn't sure that he could call them shoes exactly. They were stilettos, and they were perilously tall. They were also, comparatively, huge.

'So, pretty boy. I shatter your toes, or...you wear the dress and heels.'

Issan sputtered, but Jez held up a finger.

'Don't worry! It's all just your size! Nod towards the option you choose.'

When Issan didn't move immediately, Jez's tone shifted from the faux-warmth he had put on. He stepped towards Issan, placing a hand on each of his thighs as he tilted his head to whisper coldly into Issan's ear.

'Be grateful, Issy, that I'm giving you any choice at all.'

His insides twisting with shame, Issan nodded towards the masked figure who held the dress and heels. The hammer-man turned, bowed deeply to Jez, and left the room, slamming the door shut behind him. Issan could swear he heard him sigh in disappointment.

Jez took Issan's new outfit, then gestured to the masked figure, who skilfully untwisted the knots that kept Issan bound to his chair. He stared at his freed wrists in disbelief.

'Up you get, gorgeous. It's time to change.'

Issan didn't even think of struggling when the masked figure pulled him to stand, and began pulling clothes off of him. His shirt first, button by button. Jez watched him like a predator, eyes fixed not on his skin, but his face. He liked the reactions. He lived for the reactions.

The masked figure maneuvered him out his slacks, next. They were either incredibly skilled at keeping their walls up, or entirely emotionless. Issan cringed away as they reached for the waistband of his shorts, but Jez whistled once again, and the masked figure flinched back instantly.

'Leave those. Just let me put the dress on. Come on, pretty, lift your arms up.'

Issan did. Jez pulled the dress down over his face and body and– it was tight. The clinging fabric reached his ankles, and it squeezed his muscles stiffly. Issan wasn't sure he'd be able to move at all, let alone run everywhere.

'Ah...I think you're understanding now. I can't make the better option easy for you, Issy. It sets a bad precedent.' Jez smirked. 'Oh! And we aren't finished. Sit.'

Issan fell back awkwardly onto his chair, legs and back held straight by the firm fabric. The masked figure knelt at his feet. With sickening gentleness, they placed both of his feet into the high heels, then fastened them.

Jez nodded, slowly. Appraisingly.

'Get him up.'

Grabbing him by the shoulders, the masked figure pulled Issan to his feet. He wobbled, but he did not fall. Jez laughed.

'Oh, you look just perfect. Such a pretty, pretty boy. Maybe I should tell everyone that you're a girl! They'd believe me.'

Issan stared at the ground. His face burned. This was better, he thought to himself, than a hammer to his feet. This was the better option.

Jez snapped his fingers at the masked figure, pointed to Issan, then nodded upwards.

He was marched (staggered) further into his room, onto a podium that must once have held some grand four-poster bed. The masked figure yanked Issan's hands above his head and fastened them into chains on a bar which hung from the ceiling.

'Let's see if you can stand all night, gorgeous boy. Hm. Gorgeous girl.'

With a final, sharp whistle to the masked figure, who opened the door for him, Jez strolled out of the room, leaving Issan with his wrists pulling on the chains as his legs failed to support him.

He felt like a wooden board, if wooden boards could have exhausted calves and ankles. Issan hadn't stood in days, and it was already draining him.

'It's alright, darling, you don't have to say it.'

Carewhumper ran a casual hand through Whumpee's hair, concern on their face. Whumpee shook their head.

'No. No I want to, it's just...I...I don't...'

Carewhumper nodded patiently. They smiled then, even as Whumpee struggled to find their words.

'Sweetheart, do you need me to help you?'

Whumpee nodded miserably, shame settling as a harsh weight in their stomach. They were so pathetic, to need help with something so easy as this. Carewhumper did so much for them, after all, but it was just...it didn't feel right, to say that.

Either way, Whumpee knew that with Carewhumper's help, they could do it. Carewhumper took hold of Whumpee's wrists and folded them carefully behind their back. Slowly, they walked Whumpee backwards until their hands pressed up against the back wall.

'Manners,' Carewhumper began, 'are very important.'

Whumpee started to reply- to affirm- but Carewhumper hushed them quickly.

'No need to speak, darling, for now. Just listen. You need to show your manners when someone does something good for you. See, I found you all mangled and I helped you to get better, didn't I?'

Whumpee, cautious to remain quiet, gave a small nod. Their shoulder twinged at the mention of its injury.

'So, what do you say? We got as far as 'thank you', sure, but when someone saves you? There's got to be some more respect there. I know you know what I need to hear from you, sweetheart, because I've told you. Now you just need to be brave enough to say it.'

Whumpee bristled, just barely, at the insinuation that they were a coward. It wasn't like that- they weren't like that- it was just, well...scary. They took a breath, dropping their gaze from Carewhumper to the floor.

'I...thank you. Thank you, Master.'

Carewhumper, for a moment, was silent.

'That was something, I suppose. Now, we'll talk about appropriate stances and positions when you're expressing your gratitude. It's imperative that you show your Master submission.'

Whumpee squirmed then, as Carewhumper had pushed them further against the wall, crushing their wrists, which Whumpee still held behind them. Carewhumper only gave Whumpee a look.

'Oh! Oh...sorry, sorry. I mean...yes, Master.'

'Hmm. Well done, darling.'