Chapter 1, Pt 1: Dasa's Dream
⚠️CW: Institutionalized slavery, degradation, dehumanization, objectification, emotional whump, blood/licking blood, food whump (starvation/poisoning), sadistic whumper, cold calculating whumper, multiple whumper, sensory deprivation, fantasy whump.
✨️I want to thank my amazing beta reader who has been listening to my incessant and at times wild and chaotic babble. you have been amazing @3-2-whump! I seriously couldn't have done it without you!✨️
I'd also like to thank @i-eat-worlds for the feedback, too! as well as everyone else who has listened to my world building (talking through things helps me world build) and everyone who has sent me asks over these past months. you have all been so encouraging, and I appreciate you all more than you know!
Story under the cut:
The distant crowds roared with excitement as the blindfolded Drar slave was led up the stone stairs by an armed guard. He didn’t need his sight; he could tell everything by sound alone. He was grateful for the break from restraints though. His Master had been in a mood lately, and he could not recall the last time he could move his limbs freely.
He could tell when they reached the top of the stairs, the crowd's roar ringing strong and the sun warming his skin. The smell of the blood-soaked dust rose in the air from beneath his feet.
One of the guards roughly shoved him further into the arena. “Move it, mongrel,” he growled.
He obediently stepped forward, not reacting to the name. That was one of the terms he was called. Dog, mutt, mongrel, cur, slave, it really didn’t matter to him, he had no real name. Obedience and pleasing his master were all that mattered to him. He was just a tool, and tools didn’t care about names. It was easier to simply not care
His opponent was dragged in soon after him. He could tell a lot about them without being able to see them, though the crowd did obscure a lot as well. Dog could also assume his opponent was larger than him, didn’t take a great academic nor animalistic senses to know the latter. Years of consuming poisons had stunted his growth and normal Drar abilities.
“Reminder this is not a death match or an execution match. Refrain from killing your opponent,” the overseer announced to the two fighters. This was a fact that relieved the dog greatly.
The Dog bowed gracefully to the overseer, then to his opponent, and then to each side of the arena. The other did the same, presumably. It was hard to hear the whisper of fabric that would give these movements away over the crowd.
He at no point had been given permission to remove his blindfold, so he kept it on as he took his stance. He didn’t need his sight anyway, though it would have helped.
The fight itself was over quick, hardly worth the fuss of getting cleaned and to the arena. He wasn’t as strong or as large as other Drar, but he was fast, faster than most. Due to his master blindfolding him for hours every day, his senses were much keener as well. If he could outmaneuver his opponent and end it fast, he would win. allowing the fight to drag out would be a recipe for disaster though, he could tell the other slave was strong, even for a Drar.
-
“You idiot mutt!” his master hissed, digging his nails into the slave's jaw. “Why wouldn’t you remove your blindfold?”
“No one told this dog it could,” The Mutt replied stoically. He kept his face neutral as best as he could, struggling to contain his confusion. His master felt unusually tense, and usually he made him fight handicapped. He knew pointing out that usually he wasn’t supposed to would be interpreted as back talk.
“Corvius,” a man interrupted.
“Coming, just give me a moment.” His master turned back to the slave. He pulled the blindfold off, and the Mutt instantly dropped his gaze to avoid looking at his master’s face. “You are to stand there, you are not to move, you are not to speak.”
“Yes, master.”
His master produced a small object that resembled a lapel pin without a back. The top of it was marked with swirling sigils. Mutt knew this object well and braced himself. There was a sharp stab in his chest, and then the world went black.
Once the pin was embedded in his flesh, it blocked his hearing, sight, and smell completely. There were some versions that blocked all 6 Drar senses, but thankfully his master rarely used those. Those were terrifying.
It felt like hours, but it was probably only minutes when he felt someone grab and excitedly shake his hand. The softness of the touch confused him, but he couldn’t help but savor it. It was small and warm, and it felt like a child’s. He almost never felt a kind touch, so this was a novelty he would remember for a long time.
He then felt a rougher, but not unkind, set of hands turn his face this way and that. All he could tell was that it was not the familiar grip of his master. The child continued to poke and pat here and there.
Too soon the hands withdrew, and the touching stopped. With it, the warmth dissipated. He wondered who they were, and what they wanted with him. Most importantly, he wondered if that warmth would ever return.
His master pulled the pin out, and he blinked, adjusting back to the world. He could still feel the ghosts of the warm hands on his skin. He could also smell the faint, fading scent of the two visitors.
“Good Dog, you behaved yourself well. The father of your future master is pleased with your progress as well.” His master rarely praised him, and the words melted into him, bringing a warm sensation to his chest that he could never quite identify.
He brought the hand that the child shook closer to his face. The scent was warm, kind even, and it held a tone of softness, however he could pick up some loneliness in it as well.
‘His future master,’ he thought wistfully. ‘HIS master….. There was a light at the darkness now.’ He would work extra hard from here on out to be as perfect as possible for that warmth.
The warm hands from his dream lingered on his skin when he woke, contrasting to the cold of the slave building. The faint scent of his future master momentarily replaced the smell of damp brick and heavy air that always hung in the slaves’ outbuilding. It was still very early, he shivered as the wind blew through the bars of the glassless windows.
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