Hey y'all. Just a small project to work on between editing my main story, A King's Legacy. Good to take a break sometimes.
This is a story of graphic proportions, one containing references to deranged and nonconsensual sex/acts of violence. These acts are performed by anthropomorphic (and unhinged) wolves on a deaf-mute young man stolen from our world. I will try to avoid going into too much detail, as I want to focus more on the healing aspects of the aftermath in this story, but I can't promise I won't have to go into depth when and where it is needed. The ending will be a happy one, but getting there will not be.
This is the story of a very broken sex slave that finds comfort and recovery with his new `master'. A deaf-mute is one of the two main characters this go round, one from a different world with a different language. The communication barrier aspect will be heavily played on. It'll be quite a slow-burn as a result, so don't expect passionate or satisfying sex scenes for a while, but they are definitely coming when appropriate. There are several smaller instances of sexual content sprinkled throughout, mostly for storytelling.
There should be no more than twenty chapters by the end, if even that many. (And even that depends on general interest to an extent.) This is not a light tale, and if you are easily depressed, highly empathetic, or susceptible to the suffering and torture of others, I would suggest reading elsewhere, because I will absolutely be trying my best to make you angry and stoke your hatred. The first chapters briefly reference some things to set the stage, but it won't get near as heavy until I start peeling back the victim's story as this unfolds.
This is a far cry from the passionate love stories I usually write, but in a way, it may also be the most passionate of my love stories in many rights. (REALLY looking forward to writing one passionate smut scene in particular. You'll know it when you read it, and you'll definitely be cheering them on.)
With that, enjoy or despair at the story per your own discretion. Thanks for reading or my deepest apologies, either way. Always open to thoughts and feedback. ~ Red Bayou
Final trigger warnings: Nonconsensual sex/reluctance. Abduction. Abuse. Bodily mutilation. Rustic Chastity. (I guess that is how you would label it.) Nonhuman/human relations. Knotting. Slavery. (Sexual and otherwise.) HEAVY and sometimes descriptive violence. Blood. Gore. Torture. (Physical and psychological.) Urination. (Ingestion included) Mind breaking. Psychological trauma. Touches of Stockholm syndrome. Sadism/Masochism. Authoritarianism. Exploring ideas of inescapable pain, even by death. Possibly plenty more I'm forgetting to add here.
~ ~ ~
Gospel of the Masters
Ch. 01: Filth
It was a pleasant afternoon in the small village of Cobalt. The spring air was rich with life, carrying with it the sweet scent of pollen. Hatchet hated the smell of pollen, almost as much as he hated the conditions for this mission. A job was an job though, and slavers were some real trash worth taking out anyway, so it wasn't like the black wolf had any real opposition to it. More or less, he was just bothered that he had to travel to such a backwoods village to pull it off in the first place.
Cobalt village stood on the edge of the empire, a place where merchants frequented to trade their wares with the produce grown by the farmers living on the outskirts. It was far from the capital, and by extension; the influence of the crown and its knights was far less prominent. As such, it was quickly becoming a hotspot for the slaver business. Hatchet was here for intel, to see how far the corruption had taken root and to report those findings back home. The king had even allotted him some decent funds to purchase a slave if need be; as proof to the crimes. Setting up this meeting was an operation months in the making, so the wolf couldn't afford to mess it up.
Hatchet was a wolf entirely covered in fur as dark as charcoal, a coat that complimented his stark, red eyes, making them pop where they rested beneath his stern brow. The beast was bipedal and humanoid in shape, with a larger set of paws beneath him. His hands were similar to a human's, with four fingers and a thumb, but with pointed claws in the place of fingernails. He seemed to be a mere shadow made of fur, save for the black, rougher pads on the palms of his hands, fingers, and paws. The beast stood just at eight foot tall, which was a good deal over the average height amongst the wolves that ruled over his world. As most of the lupines, Hatchet only wore a light pair of pants, and was completely bare aside from that. The sheath housing his blade was strapped across his shoulders. The wolf's large and muscular frame was easy to marvel over for his many secret and not-so-secret admirers alike. His physical traits contributed to his persona of villainy quite well.
Hatchet was waiting on the outskirts of a nearby field where he was to meet his contact that day. The beast had shown early to both be sure he wouldn't miss it, and to hurry and be on his way back home. He understood why he was requested. Hatchet had a knack at hiding his emotions, and that made him able to stomach all of the horrific cruelty he had witnessed in the darkest, most-hidden crevices of their world. He was well suited to being the sell-sword that he was. The beast had held his composure before countless monstrosities, doing what was needed to bring them down from the inside, or with his blade; whichever seemed more efficient. Hatchet was well compensated for his work, and enjoyed his life of luxury outside of the public eye, where his service to the crown could remain mostly unknown to the people he aided in secret.... That is, when he didn't have a mission to do.
A rustling from some nearby brush brought the wolf's attention to his left side, where another wolf was just emerging from the cover of the forest.
This beast was about ten inches shorter than he was; a more average height, and had a completely white coat, with the purest, crystal blue eyes Hatchet had ever seen on a wolf. The lighter colored beast nodded Hatchet's way, holding something wrapped in cloth towards him as it began to speak. "Would you like to buy some bread? It's quite delicious."
It was the code he had been told of. Hatchet responded with the other half of the message. "Only the fruit of the gods could sate my hunger."
The lighter wolf smiled in delight and turned, motioning for Hatchet to follow. The pair walked on silently for quite a way into the forest when they came to a small and worn structure mostly hidden by the wild brush. Hatchet could only assume this was the slaver's base, the one in this town, anyway.
The white wolf opened the shabby door to the shack and stepped inside. Hatchet followed suit and was immediately assaulted by one of the most overpoweringly vile scents that had ever disgraced his senses. It truly reeked of shit, filth, and rot. He quickly located the source of the stench, and saw something that almost made him blow his cover entirely. It was a summoned.
In Hatchet's world, there was an ancient magic that could be used to recruit powerful heroes from other worlds; the humans. Those heroes were known simply as `The Summoned', and through their arrival they brought great strength with them. Summoning had been outlawed for decades at that point, as there was no need for such power to be brought into their world with both the peaceful reign of the current crown, and the stress that the summoning brought upon those summoned.... Yet, despite that law, there was quite clearly a summoned human male kneeling in the corner, smelling unimaginably soured. Hatchet held his composure, knowing the situation was truly far worse than had been reported.
~ ~ ~
Do not look them in the eye. From their touch you do not shy. Always follow each command. Never try to bite the hand. Don't be tempted by the bread. Wake to kneel or wake to dread. Dare not fight and dare not run. Dare not think a drink to shun. Make no move without a leash. Do not hope for death nor peace.
These were the rules that dictated his life. These were the only things that held any value anymore. These were the only ways to avoid more pain. These were absolutes. These rules were the very gods he worshipped that kept him safe from the masters. This gospel must be obeyed, or the master's wrath would fall upon him. This morning was no different than the countless others before it; lost in the hellish blur that had become his life.
He remained in his space; the space he dared not to leave, even with his cage left open. He had long since learned that lesson, and he only sat quietly in the corner of the dark room, waiting for the feel of the Master's steps to become noticeable on the wooden stairs at the end of the room. He could not hear, but he could still feel... as much as he wished he couldn't....
The Master was later than usual, but surely enough, the human soon moved to kneel, his eyes firmly to the ground when he felt the creak of the wooden steps tremble lightly against the stone. The human was waiting obediently, any resistance long since cut out of him after so many years to succumb to and accept his fate.
To his surprise, he felt a leash click into place on his collar. The human felt a snatching tug a short second later, ordering him to rise and follow the master up the steps and into the main room of the small shack. The human rarely found himself displayed, but knew the Master must have been expecting a visitor.
A closed fist with the first finger extended was passed in front of the human's eyes, and he returned to his kneeling position without hesitation before the leash was removed. He would stay in that spot until he was moved again. That was per the rules, the gospel demanded dedication.
It was over an hour later when the Master made his leave. Even then, the human did not move. The Master returned another half-hour later, a strong, black wolf with him then. The black wolf had the largest frame the human had ever seen on a master, making him tremble in fear of what was likely to come. The larger wolf looked at the human almost immediately when he walked in, but the human did not see his stare. He did not dare look into the eyes of a master, and ALL of the wolves were masters in his experienced eyes.... All masters came to that place for the same reason.... All masters were the same. All were equally cruel.
The white wolf took a seat at the smaller table, motioning for Hatchet to have a seat across from him.
The black wolf pulled his gaze from the pitiful summoned, and nodded at the white beast with a perfectly practiced smile, speaking with false enthusiasm as he accepted the seat. "So, it seems you even deal with the rarer specimens. I have to hand it to you, you sure know how to make an impact on your buyers. I assume this is a service you offer potential clients?"
The white wolf flashed a deviant smile, taking the bait without ever realizing. "I find it easier to sell one specialty slave on occasion than to deal with lesser valued options. I'm certain I can fulfil your tastes, but know it will cost you. Its no simple spell."
Hatchet gave his own flash of teeth, fanning the slaver's ego perfectly. He realized what the white wolf was; what kind of truly twisted monster he was facing, and if he wanted to do what was needed he would need to play a monster himself. The darker wolf spoke with a false tone of excitement. "Well, tell me some about THAT one." Hatchet pointed towards the soured human as he continued, "Seems you've well prepared it already. I like skipping the obedience training, so I'd love to see what it can do."
Hatchet knew this could backfire, but he needed to see how bad the situation was. He felt sorry for the summoned, but he needed undeniable proof. He needed to ensure the buy went smoothly, and nobody bought such goods without a demonstration. He had to maintain that façade no matter what. Hatchet, however, had no real idea how terrible the white wolf was to his slave.
The lighter wolf cackled a bit, looking over his shoulder at his possession with eyes gleaming in ecstasy. "I stumbled across that one a little over four years ago. It's sort of my greatest masterpiece. I mean, honestly, you couldn't ask for a more suited specimen to this lifestyle! I observed it for nearly two days before realizing it couldn't hear or speak at all! So already, no cries for help that could expose me. No way of it overhearing my plans, opening a chance for escape. No way to ever even speak the magic needed to return to its world! It made the perfect base. But then I peered deeper, I checked into the gift it would receive if summoned here... and I received the best of surprises when I did! It can HEAL! It can heal any injury you inflict automatically, and it can't die as far as I know, so you know what that means, right?" The white wolf paused for a moment, eagerly hoping his new friend with seemingly similar tastes would come to the same conclusion he had.
Hatchet knew the minds of such monsters, and spoke the answer In feign happiness. "It means you can be as rough as you want, right?" The white wolf cackled into the air once more, thrilled that his acquaintance really did understand such pleasures.
"That's right! And let me tell you, I've really pushed those boundaries. That thing has been the most useful toy I've ever had. You can be as harsh as you want to with the punishment when they can't die! They tend to learn their place pretty quickly. I can slit its stomach open, it will live through that pain; unable to even scream.... And after? I can fuck it in its own blood until I'm satisfied. I can do this as many times as I want to it, and I have had a lot of fun using it in all sorts of similar ways.... But it's a special case, and certainly hard to find another like it.... I can almost guarantee I can find something that fits your needs, though, so don't get too disheartened, my new friend."
Hatchet wanted to strangle this monster where he sat. He had purposely targeted a disabled summoned.... If the summoned couldn't speak, he had no way home.... If the summoned really could heal as the white wolf said he could, had he truly been enduring such torture for over four years? Surely the beast was exaggerating to pitch the sale....
As if in response to that doubt, the white wolf stood and started walking over to the filthy human, stopping just in front of him. The slave made no move, and only kept his gaze to the floor in subservience. The white wolf held out a fist in front of the human's downcast eyes, and extended his first two fingers. Without hesitation or resistance, the summoned opened his mouth for the wolf.
Hatchet buried the cold shiver that ran down his spine as he watched the white wolf, but the darker one was horrified by what he witnessed.
The white wolf pulled his pants down a bit, and thrust his sheath forward, pressing his tip into the human's awaiting maw. As the white wolf began relieving himself, the slave closed his lips tightly, ensuring not even a single drop would escape. As the white wolf let his stream flow from him into the summoned, he spoke back over his shoulder to the darker wolf.
"It took a while for it to catch on, but the hand signals really were useful! It can't listen to orders, so I needed another way to make it do what I wanted. Turns out, this is even easier! I'd highly recommend it!" The white beast flashed a sudden, cold look towards the black one before he continued. "Hey... how about you give it a try next? Don't worry, it knows better than to bite or anything. I promise, it'll make you all the more eager to get one of your own!"
Hatchet almost tripped over himself in his rush to deny the request, but caught a glimpse of the hidden mistrust on the other wolf's face. Hatchet silently cursed his luck. The beast had made this a test, and if Hatchet didn't pass it, this monster would become suspicious and likely withdraw. Hatchet felt an undeniable twist in his gut as his guilt and shame writhed within himself. He hadn't signed up for all this. The situation had been horribly downplayed, but this was Hatchet's one chance to act before the slaver disappeared to new buyers for another year. If he didn't secure that line of contact, countless others could be drawn into a similar situation. He needed to become a customer. He needed to see the rest of the operation.... So he would do what he had to do.... That was his job, after all.
Hatchet plastered on his own malevolent grin, doing his best to sell the act. The large black wolf stood, his powerful frame towering high as he did so. The sell-sword flashed a smile before he took a few heavy paces forward. As the white wolf was pulling away from the kneeling slave, Hatchet noticed the summoned had simply returned to looking down with his mouth closed, making Hatchet feel even worse about the whole thing.
The black wolf gave the white one a questioning glance, and was met with that disturbing chuckle once again before the beast answered him. "Commands only cover one order at a time. You need to give it the signal again. Just hold out your fist where it can see it, and extend your first two fingers. It will do the rest, so you just enjoy yourself." The white wolf grinned madly.
Hatchet could only forcibly hold his own smile, and nod at the explanation, too disgusted to actually speak at the time. Hatchet did as was instructed, and held a hand down before the human's field of vision. He extended the first two fingers, and the summoned opened his mouth without hesitation. The large wolf moved his hand to the front of his pants, slowly pulling them down to reveal his sheath. He took a step closer, shifted himself forward, and felt his tip press against the oh so soft lips of the slave.
Hatchet hated himself that day, for when he had finally worked himself up enough to release his flow, a dark shudder of ecstasy rippled up his spine. There was no doubt, somewhere buried inside of himself, the wolf was actually enjoying this. There was something so unbelievably powerful about pissing down someone's throat like that, something the wolf never even knew he enjoyed until that moment....
The human was used to it by that point, and was far more concerned about the growing wolf's size. The tip itself was already thick as it was, but was only swelling larger as the wolf used his mouth. This master was well endowed, more so than any the human had pleased before. He trembled, his worries about the larger beast bearing larger fruit confirmed in despair. This master would hurt more than any that came before him. He almost let himself wish for death, of course, the gospel quickly reminded him he wasn't allowed that luxury.
As Hatchet felt his stream die off to a mere trickle and to droplets after, the wolf took a step back, letting himself pull free from the soft maw.
The white wolf made a comment to the larger one, motioning at the black wolf's growing tool. "Enjoyed yourself did you? Was the demonstration to your expectation?" Hatchet peered down at the slave again, his back safely turned to the white wolf. A pang of guilt stabbed at him for what he had taken part in. What the beast thought on more than anything, though, was the hopeless gaze of the summoned, ever cast to the floor. The sell-sword made up his mind then and there.
"How much?"
The white wolf snickered a bit before replying. "This one is not for sale. I've spent far too much time perfecting it.... I am certain we may find you something simi-"
Hatchet interrupted the other wolf before he finished his pitch. "I'll pay triple your asking price. I told you, I like to skip the training.... Do I look like a wolf that knows restraint? I like to be rough, I like them to know what I am before they ever find themselves on their knees before me, to know there is no use fighting me. I like them hopeless, with not a trace of light left recognizable in their eyes....This one is perfect. This is the one I want." The white wolf's smile stretched gleefully at the proclamation, never realizing it was all mere pretty words to sate the monster. The slaver was thinking carefully.... He could always hunt down another.
The slaver lifted his eyes sparkling with interest to meet Hatchet's own, "Four years is a long time.... Perhaps I could find another toy to play with. I do sort of miss hearing them scream. Ah, but this one has so much time invested! Honestly, I simply don't think I could let it go.... For that price." He finished the sentence with an allusive smirk.
The larger wolf huffed, a slaver's greed as putrid as ever. He had already spent his allotted budget with the first offer.... "Five times the asking price then. Not a gold more." Hatchet was about to spend three months of his own saved wages in addition to the gold gifted for the sake of the mission.
Perhaps his guilt was greater than he realized?
"You certainly drive a hard bargain... but I accept. I'll even give you a few gifts as a new client." The white wolf stood, walking over to a shabby shelf at the corner of the room. He took a satchel from the shelves, bringing it back to the table.
Hatchet was watching patiently, feeling relieved he had secured a buy, even if it had cost him more than planned.
The slaver started elaborating on his gifts, pulling a piece of parchment from his bag, "This is a small list of the commands you can give it with hand signals. You'll be needing this to get the most fun from your new toy. It won't do much without that direction."
Hatchet skimmed it quickly before folding it up and placing it in his pocket.
The white wolf resumed his explanation as he pulled the next item free. "This is a leash for it. It won't move without one attached to the collar around its throat; it knows better. Oh, and don't worry about it getting the collar off, I had it bound years ago." The slaver placed the leather strap on the table, moving on to the next piece.
"This one is a specialty item of ours, the perfect means to mask your slave from peering eyes!" The wolf enthusiastically lifted the item up, showing off the ratty brown cloak with a grin. Hatchet gave the beast an inquisitive glance. The slaver happily elaborated.
"We infused it with illusion magic! When a summoned wears it, it casts an illusion over the wearer, making them appear as an ordinary wolf to any passing glances! It has truly revolutionized our business. We can march them down the streets in clear daylight and nobody is ever any the wiser! It even shrouds the leash!" The white wolf cackled in delight at his wit, never realizing he was merely giving the black wolf more vital information to take their entire operation down.
Hatchet answered the slaver with his mask of enthusiasm. "Truly, an incredible idea! I'm impressed by your carefulness, it certainly makes me feel safer about conducting business with you. Extra precautions always help keep both buyer and seller protected. Is there anything else I should know?"
The white wolf leaned back, seeming to pondering the question. He finally answered the other wolf casually, "Nah, I think that's about it. It may take it some time for it to learn how to please you, but I'm certain you can handle administering the adjustments?"
The sell-sword flashed his perfectly-practiced smile, leaning in as he answered the slaver with false interest, "Oh, I can hardly wait to."
~ ~ ~
The human was terrified, confused, and waiting to mess up; waiting for the punishment to come swiftly any second now. He was to never try and leave, but he was leashed.... His conflicting, violated rules of the gospel were battling it out inside of his mind as he was pulled ever forward and away from the shack, leaving the confines of his prison for the first time in over four years.
His eyes struggled to remain open. The blinding sunlight was pouring into them for the first time in far too long. He felt short of breath already, exhausted from walking the furthest he had since he was first was snatched away from his world. The hobbled knee certainly didn't help matters at all as the human struggled to maintain pace behind the larger new master pulling the other end of his leash. The human honestly didn't even know how much longer he could continue.... Not that Hatchet was enjoying the walk any more than he was.
This human STUNK, and being so close to the reeking thing as he was forced to hold its leash was torture on his sensitive nose. He wasn't sure how the slaver had ever tolerated it. To make things even worse, the black wolf couldn't even release the leash, or the damned summoned would immediately stop in place. He was being forced to walk slowly, the human struggling to keep up behind his larger strides. It would seem that his patience and fortitude were being thoroughly tested that day.
After nearly an hour of walking just to reach the tree line again, Hatchet had grown irritated with impatience. He felt sudden resistance on the leash behind him. With a curse of resentment, he threw down the leash, turned to the human, and prepared to address the reason for the delay. His words fell silent, his patience renewed by pity.
The human had fallen on his knees. He was panting silently. Heavy droplets of sweat were pouring down his flesh, leaving streaks of the filth in their wakes. The ratty, long, mangled mess of fur clung to his sticky and damp face, which seemed to have a red, heated tint to the cheeks. However, the moment that leash was cast to the ground, the slave rushed to stand again, panicking at his shortcoming. The summoned quickly grabbed the end of his leash before offering it back to the wolf with a trembling hand. The human's eyes were cast as low as ever, but he knew what came next. Or at least, he thought he did.
A world of silence was nothing new for the deaf-mute, but the master's pause in action made him worry all the more. He was bracing for impact... bracing, but never flinching. He knew better. The pain only lasted a moment if he just accepted it.... With terrible timing, his injured knee gave way once more, trembling just before he folded in place. His buckling knees and trembling hands met the dirt yet again as the end of his leash fell back to the earth with him. He cursed his body for such a great betrayal, already knowing how the masters dealt with shows of disobedience. `This one will hurt....'
He watched as the master's dark hand moved to the dirt, slowly reaching for the end of the leash. His large digits carefully took hold of the strap.
The human closed his eyes, retreating into himself in dreadful anticipation of what came next. The master had clearly chosen the punishment; he'd be beaten with his own leash until he could follow the orders. He quickly tried to stand again, desperate to regain his position, to do as he was ordered before the whip commanded him to. He almost made it up.
A strong hand snatched hold of his shoulder, the master jerking him abruptly back to his feet as he swayed in place. Before the summoned could even wonder if this wolf had different methods of discipline in mind, an unyielding grip on his abdomen made him jolt in response.
`Oh... he prefers using his hands then? Maybe he won't use his claws....' He hated when the masters used their claws....
A rising sensation became noticeable as the ground was torn from beneath the human's feet. He felt himself thrown over the master's shoulder immediately after, his ever-downcast gaze suddenly staring at the wolf's back and tail. He wondered if the master preferred he be beaten like this. He wondered if he would be carried off and ravaged. He wondered how furious this master was with him....
He wondered on such things the entire way back to the town, and well after they reached the inn.
~ ~ ~
Hatchet would be requesting a pay increase for the services rendered this job. Of that, he had no reservations. It was only fair considering the position he found himself in. In his defense, most others would surely do the same if they smelled what he was smelling as he vigorously scrubbed at the putrid flesh of the summoned to little avail.
The human remained completely still under the beast's efforts, just as he had when first placed in the tub. His eyes were hidden beneath his wild hair, only staring at the filthy water he was mostly submerged in. He could admit that it felt nice having a bath after so long, but he knew what this really was. He knew such comfort was best not to linger on, for it would only leave longing in its wake. It would leave hope, and hope was forbidden by the gospel.
The human had been visited by different masters before, so that was nothing unusual, but he had never been taken away like this. He suspected this was another one of the first master's tests; to see if he was still following the gospel even when he wasn't around. He would not anger the master. He would not fail.
The summoned wouldn't bathe himself, no matter how much Hatchet tried to coax him into the task. He would only sit there, leading the wolf to accept that he would have to do it himself. Hatchet was still scrubbing away at the human, moving all around his abdomen with the cloth and soap when he finally got a reaction from the filthy creature, albeit, a very small one. Something had snagged at the cloth beneath the water, something that made even the ever-still human wince.
The wolf was curious, pulling the cloth from the water and setting it aside for a moment. It took a little coaxing to get the human to stand again; just as it took a good deal to get him in the bath in the first place, but once he had managed, the sell-sword realized what he had overlooked in his prior rush to dull the stench. He clenched his jaw in disgust. Even the wolf grown numb to the horrors of cruelty felt his stomach churn.
The summoned had a wire jabbed through the end of his sheath, trapping his tool within its own folds. Practice of such barbaric means of torture had ended centuries ago, and for damned good reason too.
"I should've killed that slaver...." Hatchet whispered in a somber tone, knowing he had a much longer game to play despite the threat. He looked to the human again.
Unflinching, unmoving, unresponsive to most things... it was truly something broken beyond the limits of what no other could endure. It was something subjugated by pain that should've long since granted the mercy of death, pain that never could quite kill the un-killable summoned....
This was the last lesson the gospel had taught the human, after all. Death too, had forsaken him. He would not want for such things. He would never expect mercy from the masters of this world. He would simply survive whatever they did to him next, whether he wanted to or not.
Hatchet placed a hand on the human's side, garnering no response from him. He moved his other hand around towards the `piercing', pinching hold of the wire between two steady fingers. He tugged lightly, testing the binding. It slipped easily enough, meaning there were no major kinks in the wire. With that settled, he braced himself for the task.
Hatchet squeezed the summoned lightly with the hand on his side, offering what comfort and apology he could to the downtrodden human. The wolf drew a sharp breath, gripped the wire firmly, and pulled it free in one quick motion. The human bled for a second before the wound rapidly began closing at long last, leaving only a scar and a small trickle of blood in its wake.
The human didn't even flinch, he simply kept his eyes mostly closed, keeping them parted just enough to register if a hand was passed before him. He was letting the wolf do whatever he wanted to do. He didn't fight the masters on such matters, nor did he try to understand why they so enjoyed hurting him anymore. He just obeyed, because they weren't quite as cruel when they weren't angry. He just kept his eyes closed. He was sacrificing one of the two senses he truly had left just for a little escape. He would still feel it, but he would not always be made to watch. He would always prefer not having to watch.
A tap at his shoulder went ignored. The masters touched where they wanted. He did not respond, even when another tap came from the new master. The wolf walked away for a moment, and a hand came into the human's view after. He immediately focused on the command. A single digit was outstretched; He was to kneel.
Hatchet disliked using the commands, they felt dirty to him... but the wolf was already growing tired, and he still had quite a chore still looming before him. After his taps went unacknowledged, the beast stormed over to his pants from earlier, reaching inside the pocket to locate the command list. The very first on the list was the one he needed. He returned and gave the order, finally getting the rancid human back into the bath water.
Hatchet went through three tubs of water before he felt like he was making some progress. He kept trying to untangle the disgustingly matted hair of the summoned, but he was having little luck, even with excessive lathering. With a sigh, he finally accepted what he had to do, going to fetch a knife from his belt before returning to the tub. He knelt behind the human once more, moving both hands to the his shoulders as he settled into place. The beast's knife rested in his right hand in preparation for his task, glinting eerily beside the face of the summoned.
The human held his breath entirely, but didn't close his eyes this time. He kept them focused on the weapon, knowing this is what the masters wanted. He always had to inspect their tools before they started, they wanted him to know what was coming. If he tried to close his eyes in such situations, the tool usually ended up piercing through his eyelids instead. He could accept this.
`Knives aren't so bad, being cut is better than being torn any day.' The blade was lifted from his shoulder as the reassurance crossed his mind. Now, he could close his eyes to what came next, and close them he did. He felt the master grab his hair, pulling it just the slightest, tilting his head back some. He felt the wolf's grip tighten, just as he felt the cold steel resting against his scalp. The blade began slicing, but to the human's surprise there was no pain... only the feeling of fresh air on his damp head as the first portion of the matted nest was cut away.
The human was surprised yet again that day. On one hand, he was grateful his skin wouldn't be cut, but on the other, he was losing one of his few means of protection. He would have to be even more careful about where his eyes wandered without the long hair to hide them behind, which made the new master's intent quite clear to the enslaved. It was a means to observe him closer. It was merely a new obstacle he must manage.
Hatchet was cutting away, taking off fistfuls of the mangled fur at a time with each pass of his knife. It took him a little time to get it all cut away, but before too long, the wolf had finished his task, setting his blade aside once more. Without further delay, he returned to washing the remaining hair, scrubbing it deeply with his fingers. He was finally making some progress with getting the scalp cleaned up.
The human had his eyes closed, not even realizing he was just starting to lean into the touch of the wolf. He couldn't help it, it felt... nice. The claws dancing over his scalp made him itch like crazy, and he usually hated when the masters used their claws, but it was soothing in the same breath. The master was being far too gentle, making the summoned worry even more. He would not allow himself to be fooled by their ploy. He leaned forward slightly, to stop himself from preening beneath the steady wash. If the master knew he enjoyed it, the wolf would certainly ensure that would no longer be the case.
After one last rinse, another change of water, and a final scrub-down after, the human was coaxed out of the tub. He stood bared before his master, letting the droplets of water streak down his malnourished frame. He waited there, daring not to move without instruction. The master had stepped away again, but the enslaved still kept his gaze low. Surely, the wolf was watching his eyes even closer now....
A soft cloth was draped over the human's shoulders a moment after, leaving him more than a little unsure of the implications yet again. The human felt the wolf's large hands on the other side of the towel, shimmying down his form as the master dried the excess water from the human's remaining hair and body.
Hatchet had stared at the frame of the summoned for a while before he moved to fetch the towel. Perhaps it was due to the filth built up before, but the wolf was finally seeing more that he had overlooked. All over the human's body, on nearly every square inch of the pale flesh he had been born with was a faint scar. Some were long, covering over half the length of his body. Some were small, implying stab wounds rather than gashes. Some were risen, and calloused, alluding to burns endured....
The wolf broiled in his pelt, setting about his task of drying the human off with renewed vigor to hide his emotions. When he had finished, Hatchet reattached the leash and guided the human over to a nearby bench. He coaxed him to have a seat with another hand signal before the wolf returned to the tub to draw a new bath for himself. He still had to wash that stench from his own fun, after all.
The human sat in his eternal physical silence, but his mind would not so easily fall in line in that moment. His thoughts were rampant, conflicting, and chaotic. He hadn't been this clean since before he had even arrived to that world. He surely hadn't ever had a towel or any other means of bedding provided to him by any master, so to say he was struggling to accept the gesture of mercy was an understatement.... He dared not think that mercy was real, it was just something the new master was doing to make him relax, to make him slip up.... It had to be, right?
The human looked to his gospel for the answer.... The towel was simply more bread. It was false hope, and the gospel was clear on such matters.
With a silent exhale, the human regained his composure. The only change that day was which master held his leash. It was nothing to be hopeful for. All the wolves were masters, and all the masters were the same.... All the masters were equally cruel. He wouldn't let them fool him again.
~ ~ ~
Well... that's Ch. 1. Not my usual tale at all, but it'll be a ride unraveling this mess and getting him back on his feet. Looking forward to his come-back chapters. (And without too many spoilers, all characters and parties in this story will be getting what they deserve, whatever that definition entails for them.) For reference, as the mc doesn't even remember his own name or actual age anymore, he is 23/24 years old. Hatchet is around 33/34.
Anyways, if you enjoyed, and would maybe wanna see more of this story as I tackle small projects in-between breaks on editing my main story, let me know. Have a few smaller projects like this I will be rotating with.