Whumper who has given (defiant) pet whumpee a specifically stressful time recently, and whumpee finally breaks due to stress in front of whumper — who “comforts” them …
It's been nearly two hours in the discipline cage, so named because it's by far the most unpleasant cage to be trapped in. Pet is on their stomach, head raised, arms pinned behind their back. Their legs are folded and locked to the cage's low ceiling, providing absolutely no leverage or relief.
They can't move. The pain is excruciating. It's taken a long time to break, but finally, the panic sets in -- they're exhausted. They're so tired. They need to be done.
"Hm? What was that?" Whumper looks up from their desk, eyebrows raised.
Pet rattles their pinned arms as well as they can, clanging softly against the top of the cage. "Let me out, let me out, let me out-"
"Is that a command? You don't give me commands, sweetling."
Whumper heaves a sigh and makes a big show of putting aside their work, then walks over to the cage. They sit down on the floor in front of Pet, eyeing them dispassionately.
"Please," Pet sobs, and there are tears streaming down their face, snot pouring from their nose, unable to wipe any of it away, "please, please, p-p-please, I'll do anything, please, it hurts-"
The bars locking their head in place are strategic, immobilizing the joints while leaving plenty of gaps. Whumper is able to reach inside with no trouble, gently petting Pet's sweaty hair.
"I need out," Pet says again, yanking at their arms, desperately flexing the muscles in their legs. "I need out, I need out-"
"But you must have known it would hurt," Whumper murmurs, "when you disobeyed me. Again. This is exactly what you wanted, isn't it?"
"I'm sorry," Pet sobs, breath hitching, crying so hard they're half-choking. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'll do anything, I'll be better, I'll prove I'm better, please, please, please-"
"Mmm. You do seem very sorry."
"I am," Pet says, eager and wretched, nearly tripping over the words. "I am, I am, I'll be good, I'll be good, let me out, please let me out, I need out-"
"But," Whumper continues, "if I let you free every time you cry, how are you going to learn your lesson?"
"No, no no no, I've learned, I-"
"You'll think, 'Ah, but I can disobey -- a few tears and my master will forgive me like always.'"
"I don't think that, no, no, please-"
Whumper keeps up the gentle petting, brushing Pet's hair back from their face. Their eyes are wide and helpless, but they're still leaning into the comfort, with the tiny amount of mobility they have.
"What do you think it'll take," Whumper murmurs, "to keep you from ever disobeying again?"
"Still so defiant." They sigh, all sympathy. "Poor thing. I'm finished with my work for the night. It's time for bed."
The relief has barely had time to enter Pet's gaze when Whumper adds, "I'll come let you out in the morning. Unless you're still not ready."
Pet breaks into a frantic, babbling litany - please I can't I can't I really can't please no please I can't take it I need out I really need out I need out let me out let me out please please PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE -
Whumper draws back and straightens up. They head up the stairs and turn off the light, and the door closes on Pet still howling in the dark.
