23-Dec-2004
On his second day as a Pet, Heero was already glaring at the doorway before Zechs walked in.
"Good morning, my lovely boy," Zechs said cheerfully. "I hope you're feeling well today. Perhaps you've reconsidered your... unwise choice of words last evening, and are ready to apologize."
"Fuck you," Heero rasped, in that soft little barely-there voice.
"Tsk, tsk." Zechs calmly went about getting his irate Pet into the thigh and ankle cuffs from the previous day. Heero still fought against him--which came as no surprise at all to Zechs--but his struggles lacked the strength of panic. It was wiser, especially with a wild Pet like Heero, to break him in slowly, and not try too many new things at once. Zechs was confident that Heero would soon become accustomed to the thigh cuffs and even the idea of being bound. "You've had more than ample opportunity," he said, fastening the last buckle securely and flipping Heero over to lie on his stomach. "You will find I'm not an unreasonable master, little Pet, but that there are consequences for bad behavior."
"When I get free, your consequences-!" Heero began, and then cut off with a dismayed gasp as Zechs crossed to the wall and selected a wide leather strap from the tools hung there. "Don't you *dare*!"
Zechs grinned, watching Heero squirm, muscles bunching and knotting under smooth flesh. It was always so entertaining when they tried to get away. With a practiced swing, he brought the strap down hard, not on Heero's clenched buttocks, but on the backs of his legs. Heero gasped again, face twisted up in a grimace, and Zechs began the whipping in earnest, covering every inch of Heero's thighs, from just above the inner curves of his knees to the tender flesh where legs and buttocks met. Heero was writhing, soft gasps and groans wrenched from him with each stinging blow, and his skin turned a delicious shade of pink where the blood rushed up underneath the surface.
"Ten for each 'fuck you'," Zechs said sweetly, "and another twenty for threatening to kill me. You count them. And if you make a mistake counting, it'll be another ten."
"Fuck!" Heero snarled, thrashing as the strap landed even harder than before, white-hot pain across the backs of his legs.
"Start counting whenever you're ready," Zechs said, his voice calm and even. "I'll continue until you get to forty."
The strap landed again, slightly higher. "FUCK!" Heero cried, but his voice came out as barely a squeak.
"You're not even ready to start yet?" Zechs asked, and swung again.
"Fu--ONE!"
"Oh, good boy," Zechs said, pausing a moment to stroke Heero's burning skin. "Only thirty-nine more to go."
"Stop it!" Heero demanded, wild-eyed. "You have no right!"
"Tch. Now we have to start all over again," Zechs said. "I don't want to hear *anything* from you but counting. Do you understand?"
The strap landed again, and Heero bit his lip, hard.
"Well?"
"One... "
"Good boy."
The whipping seemed to go on forever; Heero missed his count in the twenties, and again in the thirties, and as promised Zechs added another ten blows for each mistake, spreading the punishment to Heero's calves and buttocks and upper back. By the time they'd gotten to a softly whispered "sixty," Heero had abandoned any pretense of dignity and was whimpering with each blow, flinching in pain even at the lightest touch, his body gleaming with a light film of sweat. When Zechs flipped him back over, Heero flinched and then scowled at him furiously, but there were damp spots in the covers where Heero's face had been, and his eyelashes were wet.
"Remember this, Heero," Zechs said. "And consider the merits of keeping a more civil tongue in your head."
Heero glowered up at him for a long moment, and then said, distinctly and as loudly as he could manage, "FUCK. YOU."
"Oh, you bad kid," Zechs whispered, and then ran a finger down over Heero's flat belly, smiling a little cruelly as the muscles twitched in reaction. "I'm afraid you're going to regret that... "
And then he picked up the strap again.
It was some time later that Zechs put away the strap and decided to put some clothing on Heero, who was too sore and weary to do much more than kick him once--a glancing blow to the head--before he could be restrained again. The shirt was large, and its short sleeves hung down to Heero's elbows; the shorts were equally baggy, but a drawstring held them in place, the soft, worn fabric bunched in big, unsightly gathers around Heero's waist. Zechs's last Pet had been a great deal larger, as well as much easier to subdue, than Heero.
"Hardly the height of fashion," Zechs mused, gazing down at his red-faced Pet speculatively, "but it'll do for now. Time for breakfast."
Without waiting for a comment from Heero, Zechs scooped him up and carried him back out into the main room of the apartment. There was a dining area, with a long, gleaming table beside the floor-to-ceiling windows. Zechs sat Heero down hard enough in one of the wooden chairs to draw a startled little yelp out of him.
"Stay put," Zechs ordered, and went to collect his Pet's breakfast--a bowl of standard, flavorless mush that the doctor had assured him would provide all the nutrition Heero needed, and one of the pills Qalen Winner had sent. To Zechs's surprise, Heero was still in the chair when he came back, scowling and furious, but momentarily obedient, which was fine with Zechs. He didn't mind at all if Heero obeyed out of fear for the time being; he was confident that eventually Heero would obey him on his own. Then, he would truly be Zechs's Pet.
Zechs set the bowl down and scooped up a spoonful of food for Heero, who stared at him in plain disbelief.
"What's the matter?" Zechs asked. "Aren't you hungry? You haven't had anything to eat in quite some time."
"I can feed myself," Heero growled, turning his face away as the spoon brushed against his lips.
"Very well," Zechs said, putting the spoon down. "If you want to put your face into the bowl and eat that way, I'll allow it. I'll even put it on the floor for you, if you'd rather truly eat like an animal. It's either that, or allow me to feed you, because I'm not about to release your hands."
Heero scowled, and turned away with a soft, angry huff. "I'm not hungry," he announced.
"Have it your way," Zechs said. "You'll take your pill, though."
"Where... where did that come from?" Heero asked, blinking down at the pill in surprise; up until then, he hadn't noticed it.
"That's hardly important, is it?" Zechs asked, picking up the small orange tablet. "The pills are for you, and you'll take one every morning. Open your mouth."
Heero's brows drew together in a frown, and he turned his face away again; Zechs pinched his Pet's nose shut and held it until Heero had to open his mouth to breathe, and then he popped the pill in.
Heero swallowed the pill, but Zechs drew back with a bleeding finger where he'd been bitten. He grabbed a fistful of Heero's hair, forcibly turned Heero to face him, and growled, "That's the last straw, boy. We're going to take your training to a new level. You stay right there."
With that, he turned on his heel and stalked back to his study to use the vidphone. Heero swallowed hard, tugging uselessly at the thigh cuffs; he was afraid of whatever was coming next. He eyed the bowlful of mush, and his stomach rumbled, but he wouldn't even consider eating any of that. For one thing, it looked completely unappetizing. For another thing... it was Pet food, and he'd rather starve himself to death, if it came to it.
"We're in luck," Zechs said, striding briskly out of the study. "Wufei has time to see you today."
Wufei? Heero blinked, startled. He'd heard the name before, of course--who hadn't? Many Blondies used professional trainers for their Pets, generally because they lacked time in their own busy schedules to tend to Pet training themselves. Wufei's name was well-known in most circles; he had never failed to tame even the most incorrigible of Pets, and he had never left so much as a scratch-mark on them.
Whatever Wufei had in store for him, it wasn't going to be pleasant. Heero had barely any time to contemplate the matter, though; Zechs lifted him easily and tossed him over his shoulder, and carried him to the elevator. Heero was treated to a dizzying upside-down view of the city through the elevator's glass walls as they descended almost to ground level; the elevator stopped, and after a brief pause the owner of the apartment granted access.
"Welcome," the infamous Wufei said in a sweet tenor voice. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Marquise. I'm honored to have a hand in training one of your Pets."
"I'm grateful for your assistance," Zechs replied courteously. "He's more than a handful."
"Just leave him to us," Wufei said, and the next thing Heero knew, he was being swung down from Zechs's shoulder and placed on his feet, face-to-face with a young man no taller than he was. His first sight of Wufei was startling; for one thing, Wufei was obviously of Mongrel heritage. The famous Pet trainer had very dark skin, gleaming black hair, and dark, fathomless eyes. That a Mongrel could find honest work was a revolutionary enough concept--but to earn a position of trust, such as Wufei had, was completely unheard-of. Heero wondered which Blondie had pulled strings on Wufei's behalf, and whether blackmail had been involved; Wufei was far darker than any Furniture Heero had ever seen before.
Beside him stood a tall young man, also clearly Furniture, with brown hair cropped short in the back and long bangs that hid most of his face. This one reached out to steady Heero as Zechs let go of him; with his ankles and hands bound, Heero would likely have lost his balance and fallen otherwise.
"I'll return at the end of the day," Zechs said, reluctant to leave. "And I'll be getting him some new clothing soon, so what he's wearing doesn't matter."
"That will make things considerably easier," Wufei said. "Don't worry; I won't leave a mark on him, yet I will return him to you with a much improved attitude."
"I wish you luck, then," Zechs said, and after a short, awkward pause, stepped back into the elevator. "Goodbye, and thank you."
"Well," Wufei said, once the elevator door had slid shut behind Zechs, leaving Heero alone with the two trainers. "So. A bad Pet, are you?"
"I'm a Blondie," Heero rasped.
"And a well-punished Pet, too, I see," Wufei continued, ignoring him, gazing at Heero's reddened thighs.
"I demand that my family be contacted," Heero said, straightening himself and returning Wufei's gaze with all the disdain a Blondie would have.
"And despite that your master has punished and corrected you, you stubbornly cling to your ridiculous story and your utterly misplaced pride," Wufei said. "Trowa, the clothes first, and then we'll bring this bad Pet into the back room."
Trowa nodded, and pulled a pair of scissors out of his pocket; these were designed for cutting bandages from hospital patients, and were perfect for cutting soft clothing off of Pets. In a matter of a few moments, Heero stood, blushing and furious and naked but for the thigh and ankle cuffs.
"Pretty," Wufei commented; Trowa wordlessly picked Heero up and followed him, straining under Heero's weight. Heero's body broke out in gooseflesh as they stepped into the back room, which was cold, with bare white walls and floors. "I demand that my family be contacted!" Heero said. "Release me now, and there won't be any trouble for you."
"Lucky for you, we have just the thing to cool your temper," Wufei said wryly, and Trowa heaved Heero onto a cold, flat surface. Trowa and Wufei made quick work of binding Heero in place, and Heero gasped, startled to find that they'd put him on a huge block of ice.
"So the big idea is to numb my ass so I don't feel the beating any more?" Heero snapped, irritated by the condescending smirks they were aiming at him. "Thanks loads. Now call my family at once!"
"Still so hot-tempered," Wufei said. "Perhaps a little water would help." He and Trowa wordlessly picked up buckets and doused Heero with cold water, then turned a fan on.
Within moments, Heero understood what they were doing to him. The cold wasn't numbing him; it was biting clean through him, his body trying vainly to curl up and preserve any heat at all, shivering violently.
"C-call m-my f-f-family, M-Mongrel!" he demanded through chattering teeth.
"Tell me, Heero," Wufei said, sounding mildly curious. "What are you?"
"B-Blondie!"
"More water." Another wash of icy water, the cold stealing into every part of him, so cold it ached, so cold it *burned*.
"What are you?"
"B-B-Blondie!"
Wufei tsk-ed at him, much as Zechs had done. "I'll just let you think it over for a few minutes," he said, and he and Trowa sauntered out into the warmth of the front room, leaving Heero alone in the merciless, bitter cold.
It was freezing. *He* was freezing. His skin was clinging to the ice, pulling away painfully every time he moved, and while intellectually he understood that they weren't going to cause him any permanent harm, his body was convinced it was going to die.
"Well, Heero? Have you thought things over?" a voice asked him, an eternity later; he hadn't even heard them coming back in.
"I'm a B-B-Blondie!" Heero managed.
"Mmm, more water, then." Heero's mouth opened in what would have been a scream, had he had the voice for it, as caustically cold water poured over him, melting the ice and then freezing into it, stealing his breath with the chilling shock of it. "Think, Heero," Wufei encouraged him. "Nobody would ever treat a treasured Pet this way. Nobody would treat Zechs's Pet this way. But a bad boy, who bites his master and lies about his heritage... why, anything could happen to a bad boy like you, and nobody would miss you, would they?"
"M-my f-f-family...," Heero mumbled, blue-lipped.
"Your mythical family hasn't come to look for you," Wufei said flatly. "Nobody cares about you, Heero, except for your master. And you've behaved so shamefully, you'll be lucky if he remembers to come back for you at all. Maybe he'll find a prettier Pet, one who won't be so impossibly stupid and bad, and he'll forget about you altogether."
"F-f-fuck y-you!"
More water. He was dying. He was going to die here, frozen to a slab of ice, naked and terrified, and nobody would ever know. His family would never know what had happened to him...
"What are you, boy?"
"B-B... " Water. He was bad and stupid.
"What are you?"
"Buh-" Water. Nobody would treat Zechs's Pet this way.
"What are you?"
"P-PET!"
"Whose Pet?"
"Z-Zechs... p-p-please... " Heero whimpered. Suddenly the ropes holding him were gone, and he was bundled up in a blanket and carried out into the warm front room, still shivering uncontrollably.
"What are you?" Wufei demanded.
"Z-Zechs's Pet," Heero whispered, broken, and buried his cold face in the blanket. He realized that at some point he'd been released from the thigh cuffs, but he couldn't coordinate his body, couldn't stop shuddering long enough to attempt an escape... and even if he did, he wouldn't get very far naked.
"Hear this, Zechs's Pet," Wufei said. "What you've just seen is nothing. If you are ever brought here again, what I do to you will be ten times worse. Do you understand me?"
Heero nodded, and huddled in the blanket for the little warmth it offered. It had felt like forever; he wondered how long he'd been on ice. Wufei stalked away, and Trowa patted Heero on the shoulder.
"You don't want to get in trouble like this again, right?" he asked gently, taking one of Heero's hands at a time and chafing them. Heero looked up at him, eyes traumatized and stunned.
It reminded Trowa of the way a wild animal in a trap looks, when the panic is over and resignation has set in.
"I'll tell you how to avoid coming back again," Trowa said, giving Heero a gentle smile. "Because I wouldn't want to have to face Wufei when he's angry, and nothing makes him angrier than having to repeat a lesson. First and foremost, you must never, under any circumstances, try to harm a Blondie. Look at it this way; if you were a Blondie, and you had a bad Pet who bit you and drew blood, would you waste your time and effort trying to train such an ungrateful creature, or would you ship it off to the brothels?"
Heero gasped; he hadn't thought of that, that Zechs was the only thing between him and a short, miserable life as a whore.
"Just keep that in mind," Trowa said, moving on to rub the blanket over Heero's body, warming him. "And you might consider watching what you say in that quiet little voice of yours, because your master won't tolerate a bad attitude for long. He'll be here to pick you up in just a little while, and I really think you should show him the new attitude he's expecting to see--because otherwise, you see, he might decide that you haven't had enough training with Wufei yet." Trowa pulled the blanket aside and started chafing Heero's icy feet.
"I'm a B-Blondie," Heero whispered.
"I strongly suggest that you not say that," Trowa said, unruffled.
"Not saying it won't make it untrue."
"Perhaps. But Heero, you're on the registry as a Pet. You can think of yourself as a Blondie all you want, but *that* won't make it untrue."
Heero turned away with an angry toss of the head, and Trowa scrubbed him a bit more with the blanket before rising to his feet.
"Just think about what I said, Heero," he said gently. "I don't think you're stupid, but if you're bent on proving me wrong... the next step in Wufei's training really is much worse than the ice."
Heero shuddered, but didn't reply. A bell sounded, and Trowa went to the panel by the elevator door to permit access. The door slid open, and there he was, looking tall and gorgeous and warm and concerned.
Zechs.
"How did it go?" he asked softly.
"Ah, Mr. Marquise," Wufei said, stepping back into the main room. "Back a little earlier than expected, I see. Everything went rather well, I think, but it remains to be put to the test. Heero? Do you have anything to say to your master regarding your shameful behavior of this morning?"
Heero's glare somehow looked both injured and furious, and he scowled down at the carpet in front of him to avoid Wufei's cold, assessing gaze... he could almost feel the ice in those dark eyes, promising worse torment, and he could almost *feel* Trowa willing him to show a changed attitude.
"I'm sorry," he muttered grudgingly, and scowled harder as the three men shared a warm chuckle at his expense. He'd never expected to be on the receiving end of that fond, patronizing attitude, that cheerful assumption that a Pet was much like a child or an animal in some ways.
"I'm so relieved," Zechs was saying, shaking Wufei's hand gratefully. "You've lived up to your reputation, and then some. Thank you so much for your assistance."
"It was my pleasure," Wufei replied, gazing down at Heero with a sort of proprietary malice. "Please feel free to bring him back any time he needs my brand of correction. He's a lovely boy, and far more stubborn than most... and as an artist I appreciate the challenge he presents, to ensure compliance without breaking that marvelous spirit."
Zechs nodded, and shook Wufei's hand again before moving to get his Pet. "Come along, Heero," he said, and pulled the blanket away; Heero curled in on himself, shivering, and Zechs shrugged off his own sleeveless overcoat, warm from his body heat, and wrapped his Pet up in it. For a change, he didn't throw Heero over his shoulder, but carried him to the elevator in his arms.
"Thank you again, for everything," Zechs said, and Wufei and Trowa waved to him as the elevator door closed.
"I still hate you," Heero whispered, just as the elevator started to move.
"That's all right, my Pet," Zechs replied. "Just so long as you obey me."
Heero didn't reply; he only shuddered and then relaxed slightly into the warmth of Zechs's arms, and as the elevator carried them up to Zechs's apartment, the Blondie found himself smiling. It was going to be a challenge every step of the way, but he was certain that, soon enough, his Pet would obey him willingly... and he would discover the benefits of having Zechs for a Master.
End Part 3
Author's Note: The technique Wufei used on Heero in this bit is an actual torture technique used in some parts of Asia to get information out of prisoners without leaving a mark on them. It is brutally effective, and once the ice melts away there is no evidence.
(:./yoiko/ang3)
