#like im honestly so fucking pissed right now the dog was so well behaved and didn't even complain once when we were cleaning the wounds

[vettelcore]

the urge to tell this fucking piece of shit that just came with his dog to leave immediately and let me keep that poor baby was so strong i could hardly contain myself

[tigerdrop]

in lieu of doing more strenuous hand-based activities heres the Dogboy Gordon In Heat Megamix ive been talking about. i wrote this over the course of a couple months in an effort to feel okay about writing horny shit again and i only just realized there are nearly 6 thousand words here. and they only really fuck for like 10% of that

ta-dah

ive thought a lot about gordon being stuck back at gordonhouse after getting kicked out of barneyhouse. i think its ripe for a lot of pining. (and yes, he is pining over the guy hes actively banging. hes being a big mopey idiot over the fact that he doesnt get to have his fuckbuddy around 24/7.) absence makes the heart grow fonder or whatever and gordons already at a baseline of "wheres benrey. wheres benrey"......and now i am about to turn it up to 11

so lets say......gordons starting to feel weirdly under the weather. sweaty and irritable and tired. hes holing himself up in his room a lot, wrapping himself up in blankets to fight off a chill and a sniffliness that wont go away. and hes gettin awfully moody, too. real fuckin testy. starting shit with freemind for no reason and snapping at og gordon like hes a teenager. and......hes nesting, almost, or at least, gathering up a whole bunch of blankets and pillows and anything that smells vaguely like benrey. (hes not really aware hes doing this last thing.)

basically, long story short, feetman is fucked up. hes pathetic. hes being a huge bitch. at least og gordon feels vaguely sorry for him, and expresses this by way of observing him and trying to treat it. for science. its better than freemind, who just loudly complains about him being a huge bitch and reeking up the place. theres something weird coming from vr gordons corner of the house.....a musky, heady, hormonal kind of thing that makes freemind act simultaneously territorial and irritable and more lascivious than normal. and that also piques og gordons attention, because having both of them be wound up little freaks at the same time is enough to make even the most resilient person pull their hair out

now gordon primes got his suspicions as to whats going on, but hes not gonna tell vr gordon that he suspects hes going into heat. that would compromise the experiment, and all that. so poor gordons just going thru all this shit not knowing what in the fuck is wrong with him and getting more worked up and irritable about it by the day. hes convinced that hes just got the flu, or something......except, uh, haha, jesus christ he is horny all the FUCKING TIME

he doesnt get it! he feels like shit all the time, so why is he constantly fighting off boners and having weird wet dreams and thinking about-- well. his fucking boyfriend, he guesses. (are they boyfriends?? he doesnt know. he gets a weird, sharp pang when he thinks about them not being boyfriends, at this point, but its not like theyve ever talked about it!) gordons half-convinced that hes just losing his mind from being stuck inside all the time and he really just wants to see benrey again. its, like, all he thinks about. (see? hes losing it. theres the proof.)

the sucks thing for everybody else is that gordon is also Extremely Vocal about how shitty he feels and how much he wishes he didnt feel shitty so he could go see benrey and how much he cant stand benrey for not being able to read his mind and come over when he feels bad. eventually freemind gets so sick of his shit that he decides to cut out the middleman and get benrey involved directly. "come take care of your fucking dog before i call the aspca! animal neglect is a crime, asshole!"

(if pressed, freemind would adamantly reject the idea that hes being nice to gordon. but on some level, hes kinda sympathetic. the guys clearly miserable, and he just keeps asking for the same fucking thing. might as well humor him to shut him up.)

vr gordon is completely unaware of these machinations, however. hes just holed up in his room trying to work out what makes him feel better because, uhh, powerade isnt helping

jacking off doesnt do a whole lot for him anymore. like, it feels good, but its not very satisfying. gordon just ends up feeling more restless than anything afterward. and hes always stupid horny. more blankets. a box fan. less blankets. sleeping with one of benreys shirts pressed up to his face. grinding into his pillow when he wakes up hard from yet another weird dream. theyre all a little helpful, and he feels like hes working towards the right thing, somehow, but its never really enough to take the edge off

and then.....he tries......jerking off more. especially when he realizes that its bizarrely soothing to do so while he can smell benrey up close and personal on that stupid shirt of his. better still when he rolls onto his side.....and then his stomach.......rocking his hips into the mattress until he gets the idea to lift his hips a little. and......oh. cool. something kind of......clicks. in his head. as he raises his hips higher while he keeps his arms wrapped around a pillow and benreys shirt jammed against his nose. hes got that lil moment of realization that this is good, actually. this feels like a good move. and its making some of that discomfort melt away

and gordon thinks about.....how it felt. earlier. when they were with barmey. and benrey had him just like this, ass up, face down, and was spreading him apart and licking him open and making him submit and he groans so fucking hard that embarassment just rips through him like lightning. but his tail starting to wag a little faster.....electricity shooting through his belly......and he cant help but wonder. what if benrey had kept going? pulled back and-- maybe, replaced his tongue with his fingers, one at a time, curling them inside him and telling him how well hes behaving and-- and his dick throbs, hard, and gordon realizes he wants fingers inside of himself right fucking now, thank you, hes not fully certain how to accomplish it be he is going to fucking try

(sigh) so my guy figures out about the old fingers in the ass trick. and i need you to understand that i am fully convinced that this is one of those guys who has an uproarious reaction to getting fingers in his ass. mr repressed and uptight over here doesnt really get what the big deal is until he gets braver and pushes a little deeper and hes rock hard in an instant, goodbye, just like everybodys favorite creative writing exercise

and this is what he decides to do for a solid day or two without leaving his room, because, honestly, this is awesome. and the longer he spends jerking off the less time he spends stressing about the fact that his imaginations getting really vivid, here. sure, like, hes no stranger to weird dreams even before this, but this is the first time hes really letting his mind run wild and this dude is nonstop thinking about being bred and gordon still has no fucking idea that hes in heat. doesnt even occur to him

unfortunately this also does not solve his problems but at least it feels baller and it keeps him occupied. also, unfortunately, the increased rate of jerking off is causing a serious uptick in Dog Smells, the effect of which is turning freemind into a nightmare. its just not good vibes in this house. enter: benrey

now i need you to understand that when these two meet up again i want gordon to get Emotional. think about how genuinely excited he gets to see some of his pals in canon. the like......excitement and disbelief when benrey shows up outside his window throwing rocks at it before noclipping in. he forgets to even act pissed off at first. i think it would be super fucking cute for him to drop the game for a moment just out of shock, basically. his tails waggin, his ears are perked up, and hed probably tackle benrey to the ground if he wasnt also a sweaty, trembling mess whos been holed up in his room for days.

and benrey has No Fucking Idea what he has walked in on here. as far as benrey knows, freemind just demanded he get over there and take care of his dog.

(INTERLUDE: here is the part where i gin up a freemind POV of this exact scene. b/c i am out of my fucking mind

so. i had the thought of a freemind POV chapter where hes spying on gordon and benrey.....because. gordons in heat. ive talked about that scenario before too (literally so many FUCKING times okay i just need this dude to have the uncontrollable urge to be bred like a little bitch! and for benrey to take pity on him and make him feel better by nutting in him literally as many times as is physically possible!!!)

but i wanna manifest it in this specific way: from an outside perspective. voyeurism is great and also i have a one track mind and basically the only time i traffic in Other Guys in this fandom anymore is as a participant in gordon and benreys horse shit. Im not apologizing for this

lets say.....vr gordons behavior has been getting worse and worse for "unknown reasons" and freeman prime just sees it as a key observational opportunity for his research. while freeminds getting really irritated at how much its cutting into his normal way of life. for one thing, vr gordons room reeks, and he cant even escape it in his own room! and its turning him into a feisty, aggressive, and loud son of a bitch. but he cant even resolve it in his usual fashion at this point (baiting vr gordon into another competition/fuckfest) b/c gordons being a little sadsack holed up in his room and doesnt wanna play

but also.....he kinda just feels bad for the guy at a certain point. hes clearly really miserable and looks downright ill and all hes asking for is to see his boytoy again. (gordons convinced that hes dying, and feels the need to dramatically speak to benrey one last time before he croaks.) so freemind decides, in all his benevolence, to go over gordon primes head and drag the guy over there anyway. (with machinations, not his literal bare hands. what is he, a caveman?) he reasons that itll be a good opportunity to twist gordons arm into groveling at his feet later

and he spies on the two of them in gordons room.....why? idk. possibly something to do with investigating this relationship between a gordon and a barney that he had yet to fully analyze. tl;dr he gets trapped in their closet for a remix of that one barmey voyeurism chapter b/c why the fuck not

i just.....i dont know.....i think theres something really charming about a 3rd party not being able to fully make out what theyre saying or doing but piecing things together anyway.....like benreys weirdly soft tone of voice when hes talking to a super agitated gordon. as far as any of them know, hes not really like that. he either sounds bored or smug, but either way, its usually straight-up antagonistic

it would make freemind bristle to hear it b/c its almost a mocking tone, but.....it makes gordons shoulders drop and gets him to let go of some of that tension and thats probably fascinating to watch. literally soothing him like a stressed out dog, huh. smoothing back his hair and murmuring things in a low, even tone that freeminds enhanced hearing still isnt good enough to make out. (the guy mumbles, okay? he needs a fucking toastmasters meetup.)

it would equal parts horrify and fascinate freemind, in my onion. watching a version of himself fall that hard into the loyal pet role.....its pathetic! for all that gordon goes on about not being a slave to his instinct or whatever, he sure is doing a bad job of acting like it! its like watching himself, but worse.

and benreys having to soothe him like a startled animal b/c he doesnt even know whats wrong with himself, but theres something thick enough on the air that even benrey can smell it, and hes taking some stabs at the dark. especially with how charged some of the shit gordons saying is......"i cant fucking take it anymore", "you smell so good", "i dont know whats wrong with me, man, my dick hasnt gone down for days and im pretty sure i need a doctor-- no, a real one, not the other gor-- NOT a vet, JESUS"

and the whole time.....freeminds peeking from behind a closet door. watching them devolve from outright hostility into "gordon climbing into benreys lap and shoving one of benreys hands up his shirt and demanding that he fucking touch him already"

normally i dont think freemind would be averse to a little bit of voyeurism, here. if it was anybody else, hed probably at least engage in a little heavy petting. but this is getting weird, man. he cant shake the uncanny feeling that this is something too intimate for him to be watching. for one thing, gordons whimpering like a goddamn dog just from a little necking, and for two, hes never really been the kind of guy to watch people make out for 15 minutes before they get to the good stuff

its just kind of unsettling how much these two clearly really, really like each other at this point. its not like watching gordon prime give vr gordon a handjob as part of a "test". freemind expected more of a hatefuck kind of deal out of these two, what with how often gordons normally going on about how much he hates the guy, what a pain in the ass benrey is, how he just wishes benrey would stop jerking him around.....etc. freemind could shit himself right now. that lying bitch!

i imagine its also kind of painful, on a personal level, for him to watch this borderline-sappy shit. he cant even fathom being on the receiving end of that behavior, let alone from......well. theyve all got their barneys, right? and gordon primes basically doomed himself to incel status b/c he wont nut up and do anything about it. freemind just assumed they were all in the same boat: cursed to casual sex with their roommates/clones, forever, and unable to achieve any kind of intimacy b/c all 3 gordons are fucked up in the exact same way. since theyre all just diff flavors of the same fucking guy, right?

well, theres the evidence that hes wrong. and that vr gordons better than him, somehow. thats gotta suck, bro

anyway then he watches vr gordon get railed in the ass a bunch and jerks off anyway b/c its still hot. see ya)

“take care of your dog”. huh. hes got no clue what that means but, yknow, he does kinda miss his dog. hasnt seen gordon in awhile. and he immediately comments "wow. you look fucked up" in as blunt and unsympathetic a way as possible. but gordons so far gone that he cant even work up a good anger about it. he is pretty fucked up, man. and benrey sits on the bed and slaps his forehead with a palm to take his temperature (and that gets gordon to bitch at him, finally, that thats not how you do it, asshole) and judges that, uh, he is hot. in his expert opinion

and thats when gordon kinda grabs his sleeve and tugs it and starts tryin to say something. hes really bad at it, because he is having to perform the mortifying task of Owning Up To It, but eventually he manages to grind out that he needs benrey to touch him, please. just pet him. something. he feels really bad and he just needs benrey to scratch his fucking ears. this is the most gordon can cop to in one go, and it is such a sad struggle to watch, but benreys caught off guard by it and he feels weirdly bad for gordon upon hearing it so  hes just like "whoa, okay" when gordon tugs his hand to his head

gordon groans the moment his fingernails start scratching behind the ears and digging into his scalp. even just that much feels really fucking good. its comforting, for one thing, and its benrey, for another, and the physical touch feels so fucking good right now that goosebumps are crawling down his neck. gordon cant help but lean against benrey and bury his head in the crook of his shoulder. he wants to hide his face from scrutiny and he wants to get closer but he doesnt know how to say what his fucking problem is

and benreys weirdly quiet. just kinda mumbling and shushing him intermittently, awkward and not sure what to do b/c this is a level of intimacy he was not expecting but gordons sure is responding nicely to a second hand in his hair

so having both of benreys hands scratching at his scalp is really getting to gordon. hes scritchin behind the ears and gordons tails wagging at a mile a minute. the feelings making goosebumps race down his neck and arms. he starts kind of mumbling something into benreys shoulder, how hes been feeling so fucked up lately, and he squirms a little closer. hes not really aiming for anywhere in particular but every neuron thats firing in him right now is telling him to get closer. make contact. he missed the fucking guy, what can he say.

and one of benreys hands......slips down to gordons face. his jaw. a thumb pushing into that soft little divot between his jaw and neck, like hes trying to push up into gordons fucking teeth. its weird and bizarrely intrusive, but benreys hand is broad and warm and gordon leans into it anyway, groaning with relief. its not like its not doing anything for him. kind of the opposite, actually. then he palms at gordons neck, and gordon starts breathing harder. he can feel his heartbeat rabbit-fast, pushing against benreys skin (and theres no way benrey isnt feeling that, too).

benrey eyes are lidded and his breaths starting to get heavier, too. naturally, yknow, since gordons practically draped over him right now, melting all the more the longer benrey keeps petting him. oxytocin is crazy, man, especially when a guys in the full throes of some kind of chemical meltdown of the glands. gordons eyes are screwed shut, tail thumping furiously against the bed, and hes panting at benreys neck like hes a fucking dog.  he just doesnt know how to articulate what the fuck his problem is

benrey smells insanely good to him right now, and gordon just blurts that out. benrey gives him some shit for it, but when gordon only makes a weird noise in response and fists his hands in benreys hoodie, it makes him shut up real quick. hes squeezing out words about feeling like he needs something, but its clearly a fucking effort. its almost pitiful

so. gordons crawled right into benreys lap, too impatient after days and days of feeling like this (you know, being in heat, in so many words). hes been pounding off like crazy, that brand new collar of his strapped to his neck nearly every time b/c hes that desperate to feel… well. *benrey*. he cant fucking jerk off to thoughts of anything else - porn doesnt do it for him, and his fantasies slip right back to the same thing every single time. its frustrating! hes bisexual, for gods sake! its not like hes normally immune to the wiles of the Phat Ass White Girl, but lately he just keeps ending up on his hands and knees and whining benreys name into his pillow and he couldnt focus on a girls rack if he tried

point being. hes being awfully fucking demanding. (and also, hes wearing the collar *right fucking now)*. he shoves benreys hand up his shirt and shivers the moment he makes contact with gordons burning-hot flesh. and hes demanding that benrey touch him already, jesus, hes losing his mind! and benreys just crooning at him, “bossy, huh,” but hes scritching gordons ears and palming at his side and nosing at gordons neck and gordon starts to feel like hes melting into it. his protests at being talked down to are perfunctory at best

benrey licks a stripe up gordons neck and starts muttering his stupid horseshit right in gordons ear and it makes gordon clutch his shoulders so tight, claws digging into the meat of him. benreys kind of into it, though, and it just makes him laugh, low and harsh and right in gordons ear. that just makes gordons problem worse. he lets out quiet, nasal whines on every exhale, like a literal fucking dog.

he starts teasing, like, “haha, you’re *gagging* for it, bro,” but gordon doesnt respond with the defensiveness he expects. instead, its like opening a floodgate - he is, hes fucking *desperate*, okay, his dick hasnt gone down in days and he wants benrey so bad he cant see straight and he cant stop thinking about him and all of this comes tumbling out of him at once. gordons trying to press himself as close to benrey as he can physically get, legs straddling benreys lap and arms clutched tight around his back. and when benrey prods a little more, tells gordon to say what hes been thinkin about, gordon starts to pant, squeezing his eyes shut. but he cant bring himself to do anything more than choke and stutter on the words

hes half-hard in his underwear already (and, lets be be clear, he was only in boxer briefs and a tank top to begin with. hes sweating buckets and its the least amount of clothing he could get away with wearing around the house) and his tails thumping a mile a minute and hes so far gone, just from benrey talking down to him and kissing his neck and scratching his ears. but hes not budging yet, so benrey slides that hand on his ears over to his ponytail and *yanks*. tells him, “speak.” gordons dick twitches rapidly, and he lets out a sharp sound, and he finally says it: he needs benrey to *fuck* him, jesus

benrey lets out a harsh breath at that. “yeah? thats what puppy wants?” and the nickname should blister him, make him feel to embarrassed to continue, but gordons too desperate to care. he just starts spewing a litany of “god yes”s and “please”s. hes getting harder and harder, pressed up against benreys belly, and benrey can *feel* it. “good boy,” he mutters, and those claws dig harder, that panting gets louder and harsher

he slips a hand around to gordons back, rubbing slowly for a moment as if to soothe him, and then slides it under the back of gordons boxers. and lower still. starts rubbing at gordons hole. that gets a quiet “oh god” out of gordon.

gordon cant help himself - he rocks forward against benrey, just a little, rubbing his bulge against what he realizes is benreys *extremely* hard dick in his sweatpants. hes not the only one whos got it bad. but he *is* the only one whispering, “fuck, fuck, fuck,” as benrey pushes a little further, makes as if hes about to breach gordon dry. the poor guys so needy that he probably wouldnt even argue!

but benrey just stares at him, wide eyed and flushed, mouth hanging open a little. gordons so hot for this that it surprises the both of them.

anyway after some boring position finagling benrey coaxes gordon onto his hands and knees, running a broad hand down gordons shaking back. and he pulls back gordons tail, exposing him. its so fucking humiliating - gordons got his face buried in a pillow, and his ass in the air, and hes never felt so *vulnerable* before. he wants to argue, he wants to lift his head and look back to make sure that everythings, like, okay back there - benreys staring at his entire asshole, okay, and he wasnt exactly anticipating benrey making a house call to fuck him in the ass - but every time he lifts his head, or starts to say something neurotic about it, benrey chides him about it. clicks his tongue. tells him, “hey. dogs dont talk” or “i said *bow*, bro”.

for all his insisting that hes a real guy, that hes not just a dog, gordons feeling less and less like a human and more like something in thrall to his instincts. the condescension rankles like it always does, but doing what benrey tells him to feels good. feels natural. presenting himself like this feels like what hes *supposed* to do. it doesnt stop him from running his mouth entirely, but it helps to mitigate some of the embarrassment.

and then… benrey *licks*. gordon tenses and gasps. he doesnt know how benrey can stand it, its gotta be, like, unhygienic! but that didnt scare him off the last time they tried this, and its not like gordon hasnt thought about it since. hes thought about it a lot, actually. but hes been too neurotic to ask for it. benreys not stupid, though. hes a good dog owner (at least, so he thinks) and hes gonna take care of his dog. so he licks again, and again, pressing a little harder against gordons hole on each pass with the broad side of his tongue until he dares to breach it with the tip.

gordons rock hard again in an instant. his dick hangs between his legs and drips onto the sheets. he digs his fingers into the pillow now, tearing holes in its surface with those sharp nails of his, and he makes embarrassingly high noises that he muffles into into the pillow, too. hes tense, hes so fucking tense, he should be clamping down and making benreys task really fucking hard, but theres bright pink sweet voice dripping from his hole and benreys rubbing the side of his thigh in an effort to soothe him and both of these things work in tandem to get him to relax. and benrey works his tongue in further, further than a human ought to.

the tip was one thing, but it gets wider as benrey pushes it in, and its just as good as it was before - better, even, because now its just the two of them, just a master and his dog, and benreys the only one he wants to see him like this. bent over and whimpering. he cant— he cant stomach the thought of anybody else doing this to him. hell, there was a point once where the idea of stomaching *benrey* doing this to him would have made him laugh. but here he is. benreys fucking him open with his tongue and pressing against something thats making him see stars and gordon just wants *more*. he says it so sweet, too, voice growing hoarse and raw as he begs benrey to just fucking do it already, he doesnt wanna come like this!

gordon gets so worked up and emotional about it that benrey takes the time to scratch behind his ears again, shushing him and telling him to chill. benreys got him. hes been a good dog, and good dogs get treats. hearing the words “good dog” makes gordons entire body flush. thats all he wants, really. he wants to be a good dog. he wants to be *told*. he blurts out, “oh my god— say it again,” and benreys like, “huh? say what? youre gonna have to be more specific,” clicking the last syllable. it makes all the hairs on gordons head rise and prickle with shame. the best he can do is mumble it into his pillow.

benrey hears it, though, and tugs at gordons collar from behind, just enough to raise his head. “whassat? you want me to call you a good boy?” gordon cant bring himself to answer that directly, but his stupid body betrays him by making him whine. jesus christ, yes, thats all he WANTS! he needs benrey to be good and nice to him for once in his fucking life and give him what he wants instead of taking, taking, taking! but benrey just tells him that hes gonna have to earn it. gonna have to be *real* good for him. gordon could fucking snarl at that, but benreys pulling back to rub his dick between gordons cheeks and against his hole and that shuts him up pretty fast because hes *so close* to getting what he wants and hes not about to fuck it up now by running his big dumb mouth

and then… he starts to push in. that sweet voice has loosened gordon up enough to take even benrey, who, uh, is definitely the bigger of the two, in that regard. he goes slow, uncharacteristically so, and gordons chest heaves with the force of how hard hes breathing. a quiet string of “oh god”s spills out of him as he tries to crane his neck back to watch. the head breaches him with a strange popping sensation, and benrey groans, loud, as the rest of him slides in with little resistance in comparison. “good,” he pants in turn, “youre takin it so good,” and—

and gordon comes, in weak, aborted spurts. it snuck up on him. he clenches so fucking tightly that it winds benrey a little. he breathes out, “whoa. did you—” but gordon just begs him to shut up, keep going, hes not— hes not done yet, its always like this, its not *enough*. his dick barely even flags afterward, it just hangs there, achingly hard and dripping with cum. benrey cant even find it in himself to make fun of him. he wants it so fucking bad, doesnt he? and he feels so good, so fucking tight and slick around benrey that the only thought running through his head is “gotta take care of my dog gotta fuck my best friend gotta nut in him and make him howl”. so he pushes himself alllll the way in until theyre pressed together, skin to skin.

then he starts to move. slow, careful thrusts, more for benreys benefit than gordons. if hes not careful, hes gonna blow his load, right then and there, and hes trying to make it good for gordon, too, okay? unlike *some* of them, hes not gonna bust in two minutes and then spend the next half hour crying and trauma-dumping to the guy hes still got his dick inside of.

once he thinks hes got a grip, though, benrey starts fucking him in earnest, and that changes gordons vocalizations from weak little whimpers into something louder. less restrained. hes given up any pretense of being quiet so that his other selves dont hear that hes snuck his boytoy into his room. just loud, wordless moans on each thrust, initially muffled into the pillow but soon spilling into the wider room when he turns his head to catch his breath. the only words hes managing are “oh god” and “please” and “benrey, benrey, *benrey*”, and benrey just responds to him like, “yeah? thats good? fuuuck, bro, so good for me,” all short of breath and barely able to speak himself

he wants to see gordons face. he *needs* to see gordons face. needs to see what hes doing to him, needs to see that cute fuckin blush of his. so he tugs on gordons collar again, bringing him to his hands and knees properly instead of that bowing position. and then further still - pulls him back so that benreys on his knees, and gordons on his knees in turn, on his lap, cock still buried inside of him and fucking him in short, hurried thrusts. “paws up,” benrey tells him, and gordon does it. instantly. no resistance. just folds them at his chest like a real dog would.

“whos a good boy?” benrey croons, right in his ear again. gordon gasps, “i-i am!”

“yeah? youre a good boy?” nod, wail. “whose— whose good boy are you?”

and gordon chokes on his response. he cant say it, he *cant*, he doesnt want to be benreys but he does, he *does*. he doesnt want to be benreys because its not fucking fair! he cares so fucking much! so much more than benrey does, it feels like, obsessing over the guy like hes wrapped thorny vines all around gordons heart and he cant so much as shift in his seat without feeling the tug and the ache and thinking of benrey again. and benrey doesnt care, he never fucking cares, except—

except he showed up at gordons house, in his room. without even being asked. like he knew something was wrong. and he— hes always talking to gordon, shooting him stupid texts just to make him laugh. scheduling *date nights* for them. date nights where, yeah, maybe they couldnt see each other in person, and maybe they always end in some kind of depraved sexual act, but its not like gordons not into it. hes frighteningly into it, actually. and hes *so* into hearing benreys voice, low and crooning, right in his ear, and seeing him lean on an elbow and smile at him afterward. its— its practically genuine. and benreys always making excuses to talk with him, do things with him, watch stupid fucking movies that only gordon cares about and stream with him on twitch to help boost his subscriber count and—

and—

oh god. maybe he *does* care. that might be more terrifying than the alternative.

then benrey yanks the collar again. presses the whole of gordons back against his front in one hot, unbroken line. and asks, “i said, whose good boy are you, bro? *speak.*”

“benrey,” he blurts out, a ragged moan, “d-dont make me sa-AY it, oh god—”

“no?” benrey stills suddenly. his hands keep gordon stuck in place, unable to move or bounce or feel benrey shift inside of him. “thats, uh… thats too bad, friend. this trains for good boys only. good dogs go to heaven 2. no bad dogs allowed. gonna have to, uhh, escort you off—”

“im not a bad dog!”

“i dunno, gordo. bein’ kind of, uh… disobedient.”

(sorry. thats all i got . byeeee)

[needs-to-stop-looking-at-valves]

Can we get some more tfp megs with his bratty s/o? Its been to long

hell yeah you can, let's fucking get meggy fucky.

"No. No, hell to the fucking no, you giant metal dildo!!"

Megatron winced upon hearing his love. He was about to go check out a mining project, when she suddenly seemed VERY displeased. What was new, honestly? He sighed, handing the data pad to one of the vehicons.

"Send this to Breakdown, have him look at it and report back to me, I'm going to be...busy."

The vehicon nodded. He was about to greet his queen, when she pushed him away by his face, nearly sending him to the floor. Megatron folded his hands behind his back, bowing a bit to meet her eye level.

"Odd, you usually only torment ME, rather than the vehicons. What's made you so cross, darling?"

"YOU DID! Do you have any FUCKING idea why I'm even upset!"

"No, I don't."

That seemed to be the wrong answer. She smacked him right across his face. Her wings were at full attention, and she was damn near frothing at the mouth.

"You dirtied the rug in our room you IDIOT! Do you know how hard it is to clean the fucking thing after you get that earth soil on it?!"

"But you don't clean it, love, the vehicons-"

She smacked him again, this time on the other cheek. He winced, rubbing the spot. The ballbearings on this little fem was something else, and it made quite the heat in his panel.

"I didn't ASK what the vehicons do! I'm telling you what YOUR DUMBASS DID! YOU brought stinking EARTH DIRT into our room! The room that I fuck you in! Ugh, you're covered in it, aren't you? You're no better than a damn spark rat!!"

She was yelling like a banshee, making quite the scene, and as such, many optics were on them. She always did like to make a show of things, not that he minded. It was the same song and dance they always played together.

"Darling, earth dirt isn't anything too bad, Knockout even says-"

"OH YOU FUCKING CUCK STICK! Don't you DARE bring him into this! That's fucking it, you, with me, NOW, or I swear to fucking Primus you'll be in the doghouse till you RUST."

Megatron knew she meant that threat. He sighed, and followed her back to their berth. He looked around the room. Spotless as ever. He looked down at her, shrugging.

“Well. Where is it?”

“They cleaned it.”

“...so why are you so upset-”

“BECAUSE YOU WON’T EVEN SAY SORRY! And I’m JUST nice enough to have you apologize in public like a fucking pansy. So, say sorry.”

“Say sorry..for the mess...that’s been cleaned?”

His love would and could get mad at him for anything, but this was something else entirely. She looked at him as if HE was crazy, throwing her arms in the air.

“YES! You MADE that mess! What if I got some on my pedes? What if it’s in my vents?!”

“I’m not going to say sorry for a mess that is no longer there, Love.”

The one thing she could not STAND, was him refusing to do as she said. He was expecting a good lashing, and that was EXACTLY what he received. In the form of a shockstick right to the goddamn neck. It made him cry out in surprise, and sent him falling forward. He was lucky he managed to catch himself without falling face first on the berth. However, her smacking him with the damn weapon, right on his back, was just the thing that made him finally fall. She. Was. MAD.

“Stay like that, but open your fucking legs. NOW!”

The way she barked at him. So loud and so demanding. He couldn’t help but feel excitement run up his spine. He obeyed, spreading his legs, and keeping himself just how he was, as she ordered. He heard her fiddle with something, before she finally went up to his side, lifting his face up in her talons (which costs SO much to upkeep. He knew, given the fact that he fucking paid for it).

“You’re going to say sorry. I’m going to make YOU say sorry.”

She nearly through his face away, as if in disgust. She walked away, only for him to feel her pop open his valve panel. She stroked his folds for a moment, scoffing.

“Ugh. Of course you’re all wet already. When are you not wet here? This whore valve of yours is constantly ready for my punishment.”

She dipped her talons into him, three of them, somehow NOT tearing up his insides, but it was still nonetheless quite strenuous, enough for Megatron to lift his aft up a bit, wanting more of her touch.

“Always making fucking messes. And not even saying sorry like a decent fucking mech. I cannot believe you. You WANT me to pump all these fluids out of you, all over our bed sheets. I can’t believe I’m stuck with you. You fucking rat.”

She pulled her claws out of him in just a moment, clearing her intake.

“Turn around. All fours, like a dirty dog. Now.”

Megatron did as she commanded, and was able to see the camera she had recording. He wanted to ask what it was for, but she didn’t look like she was in the mood to answer questions. Once he turned toward the camera, he wasn’t met with a 'good boy' or 'good job', but rather, another jab with the shockstick, right to his neck cables. He cried out as it damn near seared his frame.

"Aft up, body down. Optics forward."

He did as he was told, and she got up right behind him, opening her spike panel and rubbing her spike against his wet folds. Her spike was small enough as it was, but Megatron's valve was HUGE. You'd think because of this, he wouldn't be able to feel any arousal. You'd be wrong. She dropped her shockstick, and dragged her long, sharp claws down his back. Not gently, not carefully. But the same way one would drag their nails on a chalk board.

And Megatron loved it. He gripped tightly onto the berth, glossa hung out and, rather vocally, thanking her for hurting him. Even as he felt the energon at his back slowly seep past his metal, he was terribly, and ph so awfully aroused at the pain. He felt her spike push inside of him, and despite the massive size difference, he damn near overloaded when he felt her enter him. Size did nothing in comparison to her aggressive, violent personality. Even feeling her thrusts against his mighty hips was enough to make his valve drip.

"Look at you. Absolute degenerate. You just sit there, make a mess, and piss. Me. Off. Look at the camera, and say I'm sorry. Now."

"I'm s-sorry."

"Did I marry a bitch??? No. LOUDER."

She swiped at his back, making energon flow and sparks fly. And holy SHIT was it absolutely sexy to Megatron.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry I'm so sorry! I-i made a mess and im sorry!"

"You gonna FUCKING behave?! You gonna listen to me now, you son of a fucking bitch?!"

"I will! I'll listen! I SWEAR I'll listen! I'm sorry! I'll be clean, I swear I'll be clean after this, PLEASE!"

Megtron was good at one thing in heroptics;begging. And thats exactly what she did while she fucked his valve, and make him howl loud enough to be heard through the entire ship.

Someone HAD to know who was in charge, afterall.

-----------------

"THAT'S Megatron's mate? She's a damn cutie."

"Keep it in the panel, Wheeljack."

Team Prime had received a signal from a decepticon. Apparently it was Megatron's sweetspark, who had 'something vital to give them'. She stood right where she said she said she was going to be, dressed in not only the fanciest wool jacket you've ever seen, but with fluffy boots to match. She was small, and even Arcee had to agree with Wheeljack; she was cute as hell. The kinda fem that would get lots of attention at Maccadams.

"It's ABOUT TIME you showed up! Ugh, you've been making wait!"

"Only a minute late, sweetspark."

"One, don't sweetspark me. Two, you can take the flirts, and wreck your aft with it. Three, I'm messing up MY new boots on this DISGUSTING earth dirt! It's DISGUSTING! and four, just shut the hell up, and take this."

She handed over a camera, and Arcee looked it over, curious.

"A...camera?"

"Yes. Go home, give it to your dumb boss, have him watch it."

"That's it?"

"You're in my PRESENCE. This, along with the camera, is more than enough. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm bleaching this goddamn outfit."

She walked off, and Wheeljack whistled.

"Hoo. This must be pretty important. Not that I'm complaining, she's a little viper~"

"Long as your flirts are heading her way and not mine. What do you think is in this?"

"Vital info, maybe? Or maybe a sex tape."

"Wheeljack, be serious. No way is that on this."

"You never know, Arcee."

[haro-whumps]

Box Boy Plurality: Reliable

CW: villain monologue, referenced dub/noncon, slavery, gag use, dehumanization, degradation, brainwashing, creepy + intimate whumper 

Tag List: @thatsthewhump @whump-it @ashintheairlikesnow @fairybean101 @finder-of-rings @comfortforthepain @shameless-whumper @that-one-thespian @burtlederp @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @raigash @im-not-rare-im-rarr @spiffythespook @whumps-the-word @frnkieroismydaddy @whumpity--whump--whump @michelleswhumpyreblogs @jo-castle @newandfiguringitout @lumpofwhump @infested-with-bloodv2

Masterlist

02’s knees hurt very, very badly, but his back hurt worse. The dining room floor was unforgiving against the bruising on his knees, and having to hold still, muscles in his back taut despite how much they ached, served as a reminder to 02 of what his new owner had done. Had just finished doing, even though they were now acting like nothing had even happened. They sat at the table, the other pet, Soren, cozied up to their side, claiming most of their attention, the two of them eating something that smelled so good it made 02’s stomach burn and twist and cramp. He was, reluctantly, grateful, to Soren.

He’d saved him. He was continuing to save him, by draping himself so artfully over their shared owner, by feeding them careful bites and shifting attractively, every so often, just often enough to keep himself interesting. 

02’s back was grateful, even if his brain had a hard time getting there. He was--still pissed. The pain didn’t help with the anger, any. The guilt didn’t temper the anger, either, knowing that he’d needed rescued, that he’d forced Soren into a position where he had to service their master like some television whore. 

Fuck. Fuck! He hated this. Hated the pain. Hated how the floor kept going in and out of focus, his earlier exhaustion laughable compared to this. Hated knowing that the moment Soren stopped being captivating and pretty and sweet, their owner would turn back on 02 and the pain would start again. What would they do to him? Starvation seemed on the menu (ha), they were in a good position to just lift up their foot and stomp down on 02’s aching back, or maybe they’d just kick him in the side while they got up. They had some sort of fucking god complex, it could be that they wanted him to know just how far below them he was.

Exalted (and what the fuck? The arrogance!) murmured something into Soren’s ear, and Soren got up. 02 twitched, knowing that whatever was about to happen, it would start (resume) now, and he wouldn’t be able to stop it. And Soren cocksucking wouldn’t work twice. He felt his breath picking up.

“There, 02, see?” Exalted purred oh so fucking smugly from where they sat. “You kept your ugly little mouth shut, and you waited until Soren was done just like you’d been told, and now you get rewarded for your troubles. See how much nicer things are when you obey?” Their tone was saccharine, syrup-sweet, and 02’s teeth grit. Yeah right.

Except Soren set a plate down in front of 02, and he immediately began drooling, sealing his lips shut and swallowing hard. A trick? 02 glanced at his new owner (it made him woozy), waiting for the punchline.

Exalted grinned. “You behave so well for someone with such a bad attitude. Good boy, 02, you may eat now.”

02 lifted his shaking hand and Exalted tutted at him, making him flinch. “Did I say you could use your hands?”

Right. Right. Well, okay, not the worst thing he’d ever been forced to do; and this food was much more enticing. He bent down further (ouch) and bit into it like a dog with its foodbowl. He hated it. But it tasted so good, and he was hungry, and he needed the energy, and 02 didn’t know when his next meal would be. Mike hadn’t fed him much, but there was a routine, and he could carry on knowing Mike would simply beat him when he felt like it, nothing else. But Exalted, 02 gathered, was significantly more methodical. Much more like the Processors at the training facility. And with the Processors, the pain had never stopped. 

His chin and nose and cheeks were messy, no precision when he ate like this. He could hear Exalted murmuring to Soren, and his returning, hesitant, “Yes Exalted”s and “I understand, Exalted”s. Was 02 just an example for Soren? A “Don’t act up or I’ll treat you like shit, too” before he started getting too out of line?

02 licked the plate clean, then ran his tongue along his mouth, chin, nose, everywhere he could stretch his tongue to reach. He lifted himself back up slowly, knees hurting, wondering what he should say, and if he even gave a fuck about what he should say. Probably something humiliating and grovelling like ‘thank you’ or some shit. Gee willickers Exalted, thanks for feeding me! Thanks for showing off the fact that you control every aspect of my life and not being a total and complete demon about it!

The hand in his hair made him flinch, his back searing with the spasm, moisture in the back of his throat getting sucked down the wrong way and choking him before he coughed. The pain came now, right?

“Easy, boy,” Exalted murmured, toying with 02’s hair as he tried to get his lungs working again. “So jumpy.”

“I wonder fucking why!” 02 shouted, and was immediately struck backside the head for his words. Dizzily, he swayed down close to the floor, back protesting the movement, knees stinging at the shifting pressure.

“Such a filthy mouth. But then again, you’re a filthy person.” Exalted stood up, Soren with them, and 02 bit down angry, frightened tears, his fatigue and the pain leaving him vulnerable to the traitorous habits of his own body. “We’ll need to fix all of that, and fortunately one of those will be remedied quicker than the other. Back down to the basement, come pet.”

02 tried to stand. He genuinely did. He made three attempts before Exalted simply ordered, “Crawl.”

It was humiliating. It was painful. 02 couldn’t tell if it was supposed to be a mercy or not, and he hated that. He scooted down the stairs butt first like a goddamn toddler, embarrassed and exhausted, and bit back relieved tears when he finally got to the basement bathroom and saw thin wafts of steam coming from the shower Exalted had turned on. Not burning, not freezing.

“Soap and shampoo thoroughly,” Exalted ordered, Soren pressed up to their side with their arm around his waist, looking like a doll, an angel, some sort of forest deity all dressed in draping cream and white and gold. Worried. Pitying. “More than once, if you need to.”

02 bit down hard enough his teeth ground together. ‘Yes Exalted’ was the right answer, but he really wanted to tell them to fuck off again.

But he was so tired.

Ultimately, they didn’t wait for a response, simply strode past him with Soren trailing after them, sending 02 a final, nervous glance before shutting the door behind him. 

The warm water felt so good. So stupidly, mercifully good. The Processors hadn’t let him have this; a gift for pets that kept their mouths shut. Mike hadn’t cared, but if 02 took too long he’d be punished for wasting hot water.

Exalted was wealthy, with a water heater the size of a tank in their utility room, and had specifically told 02 to wash twice.

He almost fell asleep, lying in the tub, warm water seeping into his skin and aching joints, dirt and blood sifting down, over, past him and into the drain. He let the spray lull him until he finally felt strong enough to stand, albeit on shaking legs, and he set to actually cleaning himself.

He guessed the fact that he’d been given hair-growth shampoo and conditioner made sense, given Soren and Exalted’s hair. Still weird though. He wondered, as he worked it to a lather, if he’d be able to read things much, now. Mike had let him. Made him, really, doing that stupid fucking job for him. Would Exalted care?

He’d keep his mouth shut about it until Exalted brought it up. And if Exalted didn’t bring it up, it was their own damn fault if they didn’t want him to. He’d read as much as he fucking wanted.

He didn’t know how much later it was when he finally felt, really and truly, all the way clean. He also didn’t give a rat’s ass. He was warm and clean and it felt nice, and everything out that door was going to be painful. He took his time drying off, and when he limped out the door he stumbled backwards, then down onto his ass. Exalted was right there, walking towards him with terrifying timing.

“Come on then, mutt,” Exalted said, staring down their nose, and there was Soren, right on their heels. “Put these on,” they said, tossing a pair of dark orange sweatpants at him. “Into your box.”

--

Soren watched Ren lock 02’s box anxiously. He’d never seen this side of Ren before. He honestly hadn’t believed they could be like this. When they turned back to him he stared up at their eyes anxiously, one hand on his collar and the other on his wrist.

“Easy, pet,” Ren shushed, caressing his cheek. He leaned into it, needing their comfort so badly. Everything with 02 was scary and new and unfamiliar but he knew this, knew the gentle touch of their palm and the way they soothed him down from his worries. “Just the bed for you. I won’t put you in a box, you’re not bad for me, easy Soren, you’re fine.”

Soren bit his lip.

“Oh, pet, what is it? What do you want to say?”

“Just, um. At my facility,” Soren started softly, eyes down, “they kennel trained us. It--It wouldn’t be a punishment for me, Exalted. I, like my box. It’s comforting.”

Ren was quiet a moment, and Soren risked a glance up. They seemed surprised. Then they smiled, and kissed Soren, and he kissed back because he needed this touch.

“What a good boy you are,” Ren praised, warming Soren. “Such a good boy for telling me. I had no idea you liked your box.”

“I, I like the bed too, Exalted,” Soren said eagerly. “I just, it wouldn’t be a punishment for me, I guess it would kind of be like a rare treat?” Soren hoped he was making sense.

“I understand.” Soren relaxed. “You’re so good for saying so. Would you like to sleep in it tonight? Maybe keep 02 company?”

Soren bit his lip and nodded. That sounded wonderful. A chance to talk, and the familiar safety of his box while everything else was being chaotic and confusing and scary. He let Ren lead him over and helped them move 02’s box to the ground, wincing a little when he heard 02 squeak, and then climbed into his own box, feeling his body settle the moment he laid down.

“Goodnight, my precious bird,” Ren said, muffled through the wood, and Soren smiled into the pitch blackness.

“Sleep well, Honored One.”

It wasn’t long after Ren left that 02 spoke. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Oh, I wasn’t lying. I really was kennel trained,” Soren assured, subtly shifting and feeling the close walls of his box, taking comfort in how little he could move. It was like being in a blanket burrito, only sorta better and very dark. “But we don’t have to talk; I know you’re tired.”

“I meant--everything. The cocksucking and for during dinner. Thank you, I guess, you didn’t have to, and I, fuck, appreciate it?”

Soren frowned, trying to think of what happened during dinner. Mostly he’d just desperately tried to ignore 02 and act like everything was normal, which had worked until they finished eating, and then he had to go get a plate for 02 and Ren had ignored him in favor of staring at 02, which they’d never done before! He touched his collar, reminding himself that this jealousy was absurd and dumb. Not to mention, Ren was being very harsh on 02, so Soren didn’t even have anything to be jealous of! More than anything, he should be worried about 02 (and he was, oh he was.)

“You’re welcome,” he said softly.

“Must be hard,” 02 said, “having a fucking freakshow like that for an owner.”

Soren felt rage flare up, replacing his confusion and anxiety. “Don’t call them that!” he snapped. “Ren is wonderful and treats me very well; you’re just a loudmouth!” That was--mean. That was rude, and Soren shouldn’t have said that. “You’ll see,” he tacked on, quieter, guilty, “they’re very kind. They’ll be kind to you, too, once you stop trying to fight them.”

“Shit, you actually believe that.”

Soren sighed and rolled onto his side, away from 02. “Of course I do. This is the first time I’ve ever seen them hurt anyone.” Soren hugged his arms and let the smothering blackness comfort him. “You’ll see. They’re reliable; soon enough you’ll believe them too.”

“I doubt it,” 02 said, quieter as well, now. “But thanks.”

Soren fell asleep with surprising ease. Given everything.

--

Ren listened to their pets talk, and spent a mild moment attempting to determine if Soren fell asleep first or not. Unable to see either of them, it was a coin toss, and no need to imagine up reasons to punish their new plaything when there would be plenty of real, solid reasons to do so, soon.

They pulled Soren from his box in the morning and kissed him, slow and sweet and much longer than they normally would. “Go shower and change, pet. You smell like old newspaper.”

Soren giggled with a “yes Exalted” before he rushed off, only glancing back once with a worried lip and look as Ren flipped the hatch on 02’s box. They helped him onto his feet, admiring the bruises they’d left, and turned his head this way and that, titillated by the glower he gave them.

“Since Soren is busy and I need to get dressed for the day, why don’t you go make breakfast for us, mm mutt?”

They watched his internal struggle, the little gears of his maggot brain churning slowly, but only briefly this time. Turned out he wasn’t interested in getting a repeat of last night this early in the morning. Ren went back up to their room, getting dressed and doing their hair and makeup just so before popping by Soren’s room and helping him with his jewelry. They entered the kitchen together, and 02 looked at Ren apprehensively.

They ate, they phoned their work to let them know that they’d be taking the day off, they let Soren feed 02, and then they took both their pets into the living room and pulled out one of the two nifty little tools they’d stowed in their skirt pocket, but kept it hidden in their palm just yet.

“Now, 02,” Ren started, seated on the couch with Soren leaning preciously against their side, 02 kneeling at their feet, “I’m going to teach you a lesson; it is up to you whether you would like help being good during this lesson.” Ren stretched the gag between their hands, like they were presenting him with a fine necklace and balancing it on their fingers for maximum appeal. 

He was familiar with this tool. He very, very evidently hated it. His glare was nothing shy of delectable, and oh, they’d drool if it wasn’t unseemly. They let the moment drag out, staring with a faintly pleasant expression at the storming boy, Soren a warmth at their side. 02 said nothing, did nothing, but if he was playing the waiting game, his knees would ache long before Ren got bored.

Slowly, with clear evidence that it caused an immense blow to his stubborn pride, loathing radiating from him like a fire on a cold night, 02 lifted up on his knees, leaned forward, opened his mouth, and bit down on the center of the gag.

“Good boy,” Ren praised immediately, caressing his face as they fastened the straps and delighting in how he couldn’t stop himself from shivering at the kind touch, even as they gagged him. “See? You’re learning already.”

They pushed his shoulder gently and he sank back down onto his knees, and they wrapped an arm around Soren, tucking him into their side sweetly. “Now, 02. You are stubborn and you are vile, but those are only temporary afflictions, and you will be cured of them. I give you a week, maybe a week and a half before I have cleaned you of these deformities,” 02 made an offended noise, but given that he couldn’t talk, Ren kept going, “Maybe two if you’re really stubborn, and I have every intention of detailing to you, right now, exactly how that will happen.

“You see, 02, there are four factors to making a good slave: fear, obedience, stress, and loyalty.

“Fear is generated by pain, yes, but far more than that, fear is generated by inconsistency. A person can go through immense pain, but if that pain is consistent, reliably given, and tracked onto preconceived patterns, that person will adjust. Their mind will adapt, and the fear will simmer to a low boil, regardless of the intensity of pain. But place someone in a situation where nothing is patterned, nothing is sensible, and there is no consistency? They will be afraid no matter the pain or lack thereof. This is why Soren has been so frightened, since your arrival.” They smiled at Soren, nudging his chin up with their forefinger and softening at his nervous returning smile.

“You being here has thrown a wrench in our routine, and I’m behaving differently than he’s seen before. But worry not,” Ren said, their voice going low and soft as they spoke to Soren specifically, petting his hair out of his face, “You’ll adjust soon, my sweet.”

They turned their attention back to 02, who seemed befuddled, angry, frightened, but still attentive. Good. “Fear is what you currently have the most of. You are terrified of me, and it warps itself into anger, which is why you lash out the way you do.” Another noise of protest, but still, Ren didn’t care. “You are in a new environment, I am nothing like anyone or anything you have experienced before, you don’t know what to expect. Soon, you will. You will always have the memories of the pain that I can and will give you, so your fear will never truly disappear, but fear is best kept at a moderate level, middling of the four.

“Obedience is generated by fear and respect. This is why you behave physically, even though you mouth off. You do not respect me yet, because you are used to an owner who does not command respect. You only fear me, fear the Processors that you know you can be sent back to anytime your owner’s dissatisfaction creeps too high.” Both pets tensed at that, and Ren felt a giddy little shiver at it. “Obedience should be kept the highest of the four traits, but through a combination of moderate fear and high respect. It is obedience that lowers pain, causing a decrease in fear and stress, so there’s a positive cycle there.

“You are very obedient, which is good. It’ll keep you conscious long enough to learn how to keep your mouth shut. But over the next week or so, you will incrementally begin to take after Soren, who obeys me because he adores me, first and foremost, with the pain of the Processors a long-distant memory that barely factors anymore.

“Stress is generated by inconsistency, yes, but primarily it is generated by pain. Your body’s threshold can be expanded, but only by so much. People who are stressed make more mistakes, suffer from a higher number of physical afflictions that are more intense than in others, and their bodies do not process food or rest properly, and can directly increase acting out. Stress should be kept lowest of the four, as its presence has no particular benefits but many drawbacks.

“Stress and fear also directly impact each other, which one might assume since they are caused by the same factors. A rise in fear will be inevitably followed by stress, and an increase of stress will naturally be accompanied by heightened fear. However, stress is significantly easier to keep low, since pain only needs to happen with disobedience, but there will always be some inconsistencies in life, due to the fact that a lack of variety is terribly understimulating.

“Loyalty is generated through trust. Trust is generated by consistency and kindness, so we are once again presented with positive cycles. Loyalty should be kept moderately-high, not as important as obedience, but far more important than fear. You are still too new to understand that I am reliable, that I am trustworthy, but it is when I get this fact through your thick little skull that everything will fall into place for you.”

“In the coming days, I will hurt you, but it will be to fix you. I will hurt you when you disobey, every time you disobey, and only when you disobey. You will adjust, adapt, quicker than you believe yourself capable, than your fear currently allows you to believe. You will settle, and with the kindness that comes due to your newfound obedience you will feel your stress lessen and your opinion of me rise, leading to respect, trust, loyalty, and continued obedience.”

Ren gripped 02 by the chin with their free hand, making sure he was paying extra attention to this part. “And every time a change happens inside you, every step forward you make, every ounce of progress, you will remember this lesson, and you will know that I am right.”

They leaned back with satisfaction. “I only want a plaything, 02.” They smiled at him. “This doesn’t have to hurt.” 

But it would.

Next