#also this cat is my IDEAL CAT. I WANT ONE SO BADDDDD

[whumpzone]

(masterpost) (this entry contains noncon references)

Pet passed the night slowly.

His dog bed was so high up, on the kind of soft thing that he knew humans slept on- and he would sometimes be disciplined on. The feeling of the springy bed underneath him took him right back to his punishments, his knees digging in and his ankles tied to the bedposts. Pet spent a lot of his nights wide awake, back there, being bruised and bent and battered again and again.

Maybe if he was good Master would decide he didn’t need this reminder. He knew what Master could do to him, whenever he liked. He’d rather be forced to sleep next to the whip than like this.

The blanket over him felt nice, though.

The sunlight in his eyes usually woke him up here, rather than the pull of an empty stomach, or a fresh wound crying out to be soothed. Pet would watch the sky through the ivy-clad window, with the delicate bronze-coloured panes that sometimes rattled in the wind. His training, that had been so useful, had made him so good, vibrated through his head like a train on a still night.

Master controls everything. He is everything. Master decides if I’m allowed to see, speak, eat. He decides what I see and when. Even breathing is a gift that Master can take away. I am nothing. I am his.

I am very, very lucky to get to see the sky every morning.

It was overcast this morning, and the days were gradually warming up. Master came down not long after Pet had dressed and got himself looking pretty and pliable.

“Morning, Col,” Master smiled softly. “Sleep well?”

Pet nodded. He was being good.

There was that word again. Col. Perhaps Master assumed if he repeated it enough, Pet would start to think of himself as Col too. That was how he got his current name, of course. If Pet counted as a name.

He had had another, once, he was pretty sure. He couldn’t remember it now. It gave him a headache to even try.

“Hmm. Me too. I’m actually going to be leaving the house in a second, though. I won’t be gone for too long… my cat has been on a little holiday, shall we say. I thought for your first few days here you didn’t need a silly furry creature clambering all over you. If you don’t mind her coming back, though, give me a little nod.”

Master looked at him, and Pet nodded once more. A cat was fine, wasn’t it? Cats were quiet and independent. Pet was a dog. An inferior, weird kind of dog. Pet was good and alert and had to gift of being able to follow orders. He wouldn’t be thrown out. Lots of people had multiple pets. Master would come back, wouldn’t he?

“I’ll be back very soon,” Master said, and the relief on Pet’s face must have been visible, because he followed it up with, “It’ll take half an hour, an hour at most.”

Pet still followed him all the way to the front door, hardly knowing why. The time alone wasn’t too bad- he cleaned and watched the sky a little more. Master’s house was tall, with books stacked almost as high as Pet’s head, and slippers discarded along the bare wooden floors. In the utility room Pet found the cat food and a little bowl, and set it out for her.

The front door opened again, and Pet flinched instinctively. Master coming home usually meant pain; it usually meant his owner had had a long and stressful day and his useless mutt was definitely going to piss him off. He tried to remind himself that this was his new Master, he could be different, but still- probably best not to risk it.

He quickly went to kneel in front of Master, keeping his eyes down and moving his face to Master’s shoes. Before he could kiss them, though, Master took a step back.

“Hey Col. You don’t have to do that here,” he said, and Pet froze, screwing up his eyes before the kick. Or was Master giving him a chance to learn? He didn’t sound angry. “Hey, come meet my cat. Come on.”

Master walked past him without hurting him at all, and Pet did as he was told, following him into the living room. Master sat on the sofa, and Pet knelt on the carpet, curling his fingers into it without even noticing. Master had a wide brown satchel balanced on his lap; Pet watched as he reached in… and brought out a small grey cat.

“This is Jaffa. She’s ever so sweet, Col, really.”

Pet nodded warily, his eyes fixed on Jaffa’s, which were bright orange and pointed in slightly different directions. She leapt down to the floor gracefully and padded over to Pet, giving his hand a sniff and a little lick with her rough tongue.

“Ahh, pretty kitty,” Master said affectionately. So, he did use pet names? Pet hadn’t been sure, what with his refusal to use any on him. But of course, he hadn’t earned them yet. Right?

-

Dusk crept along the floorboards, the colour of a healing bruise. Jaffa bumped her head against Master, then prodded him with her paw. Not shaking or whimpering. Not crying- could cats even cry? Oh, stop thinking, stupid Pet.

He watched as Master scooped his hand over her ears, scratching gently with his clipped black nails that Pet couldn’t take his eyes off. “Such a little sweetie,” he murmured.

It looked like it felt nice. Jaffa was slowly melting under her owner’s touch, becoming a grey purring cloud, her eyes seeing two corners of the room, and yet absolutely nothing at the same time. Maybe Pet needed to look more empty, like she did. She was cute.

He did worry a lot. He was probably frowning without even realising. And he didn’t purr- he’d never been trained to.

And he knew that he didn’t deserve to be called cute names, or petted gently. He didn’t and it was useless hoping for them. He still didn’t know what Master was keeping him around for, but with the arrival of Jaffa, he knew he wasn’t destined to be a cute lapdog. Pet couldn’t help the way his heart sank at the realisation. He also felt his skin start to prickle with nerves. What was he here for? And when would Master tell him?

Maybe the bed was a clue, as well as a warning. He pressed his palms further into the carpet, trying to calm down and keep himself in the present. There was nothing he could do, if that was the case, and that calmed him a little bit. At the end of the day, Master alone decided how Pet would be treated. He could behave, sure, and try to beg, but his life was not his own. It was this thought that finally allowed him to fall asleep that night, in the depths of the witching hour, the sky outside dotted with stars.

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