#carus

Carus did not necessarily need to be broken, he was not that poor off just yet, but he would surely benefit from having someone who could guide him with a stern hand.

It was decided. The next morning, Christopher would be taking him to Madam Eliza’s and see if they were a nice fit together.

--

Carus awoke to a soreness in his chest and the heavy warmth of Mr. Christopher’s comforters on top of him. He got cold easily, so he was more than thankful for the warmth. He reached out to his side and found nothing but empty sheets and blankets. Mr. Christopher must have gotten up already, maybe he was at work. That meant that Carus had to get up and begin his chores. He only hoped that that woman was not there again.

It was a surprise to Carus when he trod down the steps and was greeted not by Josephine, but by Mr. Christopher himself, sat at the dining table with two plates of breakfast in front of him. It was rare that Mr. Christopher was still home when Carus woke up on a weekday. Carus was immediately put on edge, feeling a dread in his stomach as though he had done something wrong. Was Mr. Christopher still upset about yesterday? He wouldn't be surprised-

"Come sit, Carus." The seat next to Mr. Christopher was even pulled out already, eggs and toast on the plate in front of it. Carus had no choice but to take the seat, nervously looking down at the meal before him, hesitant to meet Mr. Christopher’s eye contact.

“I’ve found somebody who can give you some formal training on my behalf. I’m usually too busy to teach you, but…” He paused to take a bite, “If you so dislike Josephine, you can be trained to fully take her place and fulfill all the necessary duties around the house.” Mr. Christopher took a sip of his coffee. He did not tell Carus about how he may even be trained to be complacent with the presence of others in the home. Like a reactive dog, Mr. Christopher knew that he could not simply allow Carus to carry about throwing tantrums every single time someone came over.

Carus nervously took his fork and knife in his hands and started to eat, knowing that he would be disappointing Mr. Christopher if he didn’t. The idea of getting formal training did not sit right with him in the slightest, but if Mr. Christopher wanted it… Who was he to say no? He loved Mr. Christopher, after all. He couldn’t say no to him.

“We will be leaving soon. Make sure you eat enough.”

The room fell quiet, save for the scraping of utensils against ceramic plates. Carus was grateful for this meal, it wasn’t common for him to be able to eat Mr. Christopher’s cooking while it was still hot and fresh. It was usually in glass containers in the fridge that he would microwave. The fresh food sat heavy in his stomach though. He was far too nervous to appreciate it as much as he wanted to.

Carus only managed to stomach half of it before he was pushing the plate towards the center of the table to show Mr. Christopher that he was finished. When his owner did the same, Carus got up and cleared the table for the both of them, putting the dishes into the dishwasher and going to nervously stand next to Mr. Christopher.

“Go get yourself ready. You may be spending the day there.” He said, looking at his phone. Carus took a deep breath and moved upstairs to get himself dressed.

The idea of dressing inappropriately did cross his mind. There was the notion of maybe if he behaved poorly enough, then the instructor would simply not take him.  Yet, he knew that that would invoke the ire of both Mr. Christopher and the instructor, which would probably bite him in the ass later.

He found the loosest shirt he owned, which was not that loose, and pulled it on. It was at least more comfortable than his usual tight tank tops and latex crop tops on his new piercings, but it was still far from a good feeling. It made him wince when he twisted his body and his chest rubbed against the fabric, but he would just have to try his best to ignore it. He pulled on some knee length shorts, because all his long pants were either skin tight or formal.

Carus spared a glance at the mirror in his room and cringed. He looked young and childish dressed like this, two things that he tried his best to stay away from. He wanted to be- or at least look- mature for Mr. Christopher. Carus thought for a moment, and realized that he didn't remember how old he was. He brushed that idea to the side and slipped on some sneakers, heading back downstairs to meet Mr. Christopher.

He held back a shudder at the way Mr. Christopher looked him up and down with a slightly disapproving gaze. Carus should have known that he would not like this immature outfit, but it was all he had.

"Remind me to get you something else to wear." Mr. Christopher folded and set down the newspaper he was reading, putting it next to his empty plate. Carus thought about arguing for a moment, but squashed that down. He wanted to spend the least amount of time possible with this so called 'instructor', so he had to be on his best behavior. He wasn't sure why exactly he was getting sent to someone to be taught, but he figured that if he just showed all around improvement then it should be enough to exempt him.

Mr. Christopher put Carus in the passenger seat of his fancy black car and pulled out of the garage. The drive was tense, silent, and while it was short, it felt like an eternity. They left the expensive neighborhood that they lived in and Mr. Christopher brought Carus to a well off business district. It was by no means poor, but it was below the standard that Mr. Christopher usually set. He parked in front of the building. It was a small, boxy, modern, two story building, with no windows on the second floor. It was painted white, with natural wooden accents and some plants planted in the front yard, surrounded by large smooth grey stones. The two walked down the paved walkway up to the door and Mr. Christopher knocked twice.

A mature, pale skinned woman opened the door. She had a stern look to her face, her dark hair in a tight bun. She looked majestic and intimidating in her age, though she hardly looked past fifty. Carus looked up at Mr. Christopher, wondering if he was actually serious about this.

"Madam Eliza?" Mr. Christopher extended a hand, which the woman took in greeting.

"Pleased to meet you," She nodded, "This is the one you called about?" She didn't even look down at Carus.

"Yes, he's the only pet I have."

"Right, that often poses problems," She released Mr. Christopher's hand. "When they don't need to compete, they have more energy for misbehavior."

The thought of that irked Carus. Another pet? No, he wouldn't allow Mr. Christopher to ever get another pet. The heat of competition and jealousy made his cheeks flush a tad. As if she had read his mind, Madam Eliza spoke up,

"Well, so long as he behaves and learns, you hopefully won't find a need for another pet to discipline him." She clasped her hands loosely behind her back. She had a regal air about her that made tremble. "Just a trial run today?"

"Yes, I expect you to tell me later about how he did."

With that, she brought Mr. Christopher into the building, Carus tailing behind. The inside of the building was a clean, sterile room, vaguely reminiscent of a dentist's reception area. She brought him to a tall desk and slid a stack of papers over to him, instructing him where to fill them out and what each section meant. Carus couldn't believe that he was being handed over so easily, like nothing.

"Thank you for trusting your pet with us," Madam Eliza said, while Mr. Christopher gave Carus a heartbreaking nudge towards her. He obediently stepped forward to stand beside the instructor. "He is in good hands. We look forward to updating you about his progress."

With a short wave, and nary another goodbye, Mr. Christopher left for work. The air was colder and more opressive than it was just a moment ago as Madam Eliza turned and stood in front of Carus, facing him for what felt like the first time.

"We must get you changed, this way." She stepped forward, past the pet. They boarded an elevator and were taken to the second floor. Immediately on this other floor, the building felt different. They exited into a small hallway, with a cabinet that Madam Eliza opened and retrieved clothes from. Doors lined the hallway, and Carus was handed the clothes and directed into one of them.

It was a small room, hardly big enough for him to fit in, probably the same size as that cabinet. A single light shone down from the ceiling onto him. He stripped down and slowly stepped into the plain, boring beige shorts and the loose white t-shirt. It wasn't much different from what he had come in wearing.