Warnings for this chapter are similar to the last one: basically verbal and physical abuse for Kurt, and Kevin briefly gets pretty creepy.

“Blaine, we’ve been through this before. I don’t want those animals in our house. Not after what happened last time.”

Looking defensive yet eager, as teenagers so often do when arguing with their parents, sat a young Blaine Anderson at the kitchen table.

“Dad, Sammy was a bad choice of a friend. I’ve made it perfectly clear that it was my own bad choice. But you can’t just judge all animal hybrids based on one incident, albeit an unfortunate one. They’re wonderful people-“

“Blaine. They’re animals. They’re not meant to be your friends. They’re submissives,” Mr. Anderson explained painfully slowly, as though speaking to a child.

“They’re animals, yes, and we’re humans. But we’re all people.”

“Look, Blaine. I’m not saying that you can’t eventually own one to cook and clean your household or to use for a quick fuck. But you can’t be inviting them to the house, my house, as though they’re your friends or your equals.”

“But they are my friends. They do just as well in school as I do. They’re not allowed to join the Warblers yet because the administration is so traditional and narrow-minded, but I’m working on it, and they might be able to soon. I could never see myself keeping one in my house and treating him like a slave, like less than a person.”

“They’re biologically inferior for a reason. There’s a reason they don’t live by themselves. There’s a reason they need to be owned by a human at all times. And besides, I’ve already come to terms with the gay thing. I’ve let your faggy little boyfriends run around the house. What else do you want from me? What if people saw my son hanging around with a bunch of animals in his spare time? What would my friends say? What would my neighbors say? Do you know what they would think of me?”

“Dad,” Blaine sighed, though his eyes remained passionate, “we live in a stuck-up, snotty, prejudiced town. Not everyone thinks the way you and your friends do.”

The older man’s jaw tensed and his hands clenched into fists. He had never laid a hand on his son, but Blaine still shrunk away, his heart beating faster and his knuckles whitening as he held tightly to the edge of the table.

“Don’t you ever speak to me so disrespectfully. I enable you to live here in this cushy little lifestyle, to go to your fancy little prep school, and to sing and dance and do Lord knows what with those other boys in the Canaries or whatever the hell it is.” His voice rose in anger and frustration as he drew dangerously close to the curly-haired boy. “And all I ask in return is that you don’t humiliate me by hanging around with those filthy animals. You’re a human being, damn it! ACT like one!”

His soft-hearted son cringed at the echo of his father’s footsteps thudding away and the resounding slam of the front door.

.oO0Oo.

As fifteen-year-old Blaine ate his breakfast, a ten-year-old Kurt laid stiffly at the edge of Kevin’s bed, stiff and cold and scrunched into a ball as he avoided the dream-induced kicks of his new master’s feet.

Breakfast. Kevin had ordered him to cook all of his meals for him.

Kurt shivered in the cold of the morning and, when he was sure Kevin wasn’t looking, leaped smoothly and gracefully from the bed and landed on the plushy carpet. He padded down to the kitchen, careful to remain on his hands and knees just in case Kevin was peeking though his sleeping half-lidded eyes.

The kitchen was tiny and putrid-smelling, with a sink full of grease-baked dishes and a garbage can filled to the brim with rotting food. Kurt mewled at the thought of living here and made his way over to the window, pressing his nose firmly against the glass. The window was freezing yet soothing in its familiarity, and Kurt purred lightly, reveling in the deep blue sky and blades of grass like fingers reaching towards the sun. Mornings had always provided him with a sense of deep calm and wonder, and he relaxed into one of the only familiarities he had left.

The night had left him skittish and afraid, yes, but the morning soothed him, and so Kurt undertook the new day with a sense of peace and hope. Surely Kevin would eventually order him to clean the kitchen, and maybe he could take it upon himself to improve his living conditions. The house just needed more of a homey feeling and someone to clean it. Besides, he mused, he had learned from his parents that there were all kinds of masters and owners in the world. He had always dreamt of someone who would cherish him, maybe even fall in love with him, but some things just weren’t meant to be, and that didn’t mean that he still couldn’t be happy with the way his life turned out. So he would please Kevin. He would be obedient and perfect for him. And maybe, though he could never imagine himself in a relationship with Kevin, just maybe Kevin would appreciate him or even care for him. He could be good enough. He could earn Kevin’s love and respect.

Kurt fixed his fur in the mirror quickly before heading over to breakfast. He brought his arms out in front of him on the floor (being on his hands and knees was yet another thing he need to grow used to) and arched his back, stretching contentedly.

But oh. Stretching reminded Kurt of how cold exposed he was as he bent over and the tiled kitchen floor pressed against his warm stomach. His parents had seen him naked, but only to take care of him. He didn’t mind it because they loved him. But he couldn’t imagine spending the rest of his life naked with Kevin staring at him in this exposed state, eying him as judgmentally as he had last night.

He shook his head. He couldn’t think about it now. And so he held his breath as he hesitantly opened the kitchen door, pulled out a few eggs, and began to fry them.

Before Kurt knew it, he heard the creak of a bed and the thud of footsteps down the stairs, and he couldn’t help but cringe as he knelt on the floor next to the lone chair at the kitchen table. A plate of eggs and a glass of milk sat on the table for Kevin.

Kevin was holding box filled with clothespins, and Kurt visibly shuddered as he saw Kevin set it down by the stairs. He looked surprised to see that Kurt had prepared breakfast as instructed. Not even surprised… disappointed, maybe? It was as though he had expected, even anticipated, Kurt’s failure to follow his instructions. Did he want to punish him?

“I didn’t want any fucking eggs this morning, cat,” he grumbled despite his growling stomach, sinking into the chair and grasping Kurt’s collar in his fist.

Kurt shuddered at the cold and the pressure of the collar pushing against his delicate neck.

“I’m sorry, Master,” he said simply, his eyes wide as he stared at the ground.

“Who are you?”

“Kurt?”

Kevin jerked roughly on Kurt’s collar until he could hardly breathe.

“Wrong. You are my cat. Not my pet, my slave. That’s your name, slave. And what is your duty?”

“To do as you order, Master?”

“And did you?”

“I mean…” Kurt mumbled, pawing the floor anxiously. “I prepared your breakfast, so I thought so.”

Kevin sharply grabbed the fur atop Kurt’s head, pulling his head back until Kurt was forced to look into his sharp, cold, green eyes. The stench of his breath was unbearable.

“You’re my slave. You should be in tune with my needs by now. You should have seen the bread on the fucking table and known that I wanted toast, not these eggs that you made.”

“I’m… I’m sorry, Master.”

“Yeah? Well, sorry’s not good enough. Sorry’s never good enough. You should know that by now.”

Kevin strode over to the stairs and picked up the clothespins.

So Kevin had planned this. He had been determined for Kurt to fail, no matter what he did. He wanted for Kurt to fail, Kurt realized as his stomach sank and his eyes began to water. He couldn’t be good enough to please Kevin, not when Kevin didn’t want him to be good enough to begin with.

“Come here.”

Kurt hesitantly came over, remaining on his hands and knees.”

“Roll over. Onto your back. Let me see your stomach.”

Kurt froze. His stomach was one of his most sensitive areas, being a cat hybrid. Rolling over in front of someone and exposing such a vulnerable part of himself was something he had only done in front of his parents, as a way of asking them to pet his stomach. It felt amazing when they did, but he didn’t trust anyone else, not even Melinda, enough to touch him there.

At Kevin’s stern look, Kurt obeyed, laying on his back with his head on the floor and his knees bent and spread slightly, arms at his sides.

Kevin ran his hands possessively along Kurt’s stomach, and he squirmed inwardly, trying his best not to move. His breath came in shuddering gasps at the stranger’s touch, and he squeezed his eyes shut tightly in fear.

“I like seeing you like this, slave. All exposed for me.”

Kurt mewled and Kevin chuckled.

“Stay still,” he ordered.

Kurt felt a sharp pinch on his stomach and gasped, his eyes jolting open to see that Kevin had clamped a clothespin onto his pale, sensitive skin. His eyes squeezed tight again as Kevin attached the remaining clamps.

“Back on your hands and knees.”

Kurt obeyed, shuddering. He had read of other hybrids being punished in this way before, but never in relationships that had seemed loving or romantic. No, it seemed to be a way of claiming their animal, reminding them that their bodies belonged fully to their masters. Kurt let out a sob. He didn’t want to be Kevin’s. His parents had told him that he was special, that he deserved someone who would always adore him. This didn’t feel special.

“Keep those on for a while. Maybe that will remind you of your place in this household. We were going to stay in today, but I got a call from someone important that I need to meet. You’re going to come with me. Go put on the clothes I laid out for you.”

Kurt crawled upstairs and put on the clothes, which were surprisingly modest. He knew that he needed to wear clothes because owners weren’t allowed to bring animal hybrids into public naked, but he had assumed that the clothes would be much more revealing. Instead, Kurt wore a simple gray shirt and pants. Plain, ugly, and a bit demeaning, yes, but modest. And modest was what he wanted most of all at the moment. He still felt exposed and humiliated by Kevin’s seeing him naked and crawling on the ground.

“Alright, slave, come on. We’re leaving now.”

Kevin jerked on Kurt’s leash, and he stumbled slightly as he followed Kevin.

“Roll over again.”

Kurt obeyed, and sighed in relief as Kevin released the clothespins, leaving hot red marks along Kurt’s stomach.

“I can’t have you in public with those in you because it’s against the law, but you are still being punished, and I expect you to remain on your hands and knees when we go out today.”

It was actually not uncommon to see animal hybrids crawling alongside their master on the street. Not all did, and it depended on each individual couple, but some actually preferred and enjoyed it as a part of their submissive nature. It made them feel safe and closer to their master, or so his dog-hybrid teacher had told him a couple of years ago. Some actually enjoyed the leash as well, relishing the knowledge that they were connected with their owner. Still others walked beside their masters as equals. It was truly a matter of preference and level of comfort displaying the nature of their relationship in public. But Kevin hadn’t asked Kurt about his preferences. Kevin didn’t care.

Kurt felt humiliated as he followed Kevin down the street. Others did this, yes, but his parent had never and would never, ever have forced him to crawl down the street on a leash like this. They loved him. He had always thought that his owner would love him and respect him just as he had. He fought back tears, unwilling to let everyone know how much he was hurting. And besides, they wouldn’t do anything. This was between him and Kevin, no one else.

They reached a bar in a darker, sketchier area of town. Fumes of smoke wafted through the air, and Kurt saw flies buzzing around abandoned food and garbage lying on the ground.

“Kneel, cat.”

Kevin wordlessly tied Kurt’s leash to a pole and left him kneeling on the ground outside the bar. Kurt heard the creaking of the door’s hinges, then a slam, and then silence. He bit his lip and fought to remain silent and calm as people walked by, some throwing him glances of idle curiosity but saying nothing and figuring that perhaps he was being punished. Kurt stared at the ground, unwilling to meet anyone’s gaze.

“Come here, beautiful,” he heard, and he glanced up to see a man with an arm wrapped around the waist of an attractive looking bird-hybrid. She moved into his arms and he gazed at her lovingly, kissing her on the cheek and smoothing her feathers. She let out a contented chirp, relaxing into his arms.

Kurt could no longer bare to look, and instead busied himself with looking at his reflection in the window. That was what his life was supposed to be like. Not this. No, that was what his future life was supposed to be like, when he met a master who would love and adore him. Who would call him beautiful, or sweetheart, or baby. Just as his parents did. No. He should still be with his parents, safe and warm and protected. There was no rush to find an owner for the rest of his life, now when he was already with two humans who protected and loved and cared for him.

Kurt sighed wistfully, then jumped when he felt a tentative and gentle touch to his head.

“Are you okay?” a voice whispered, and Kurt was suddenly looking into the warm, hazel eyes of a boy about five years his senior.

Kurt couldn’t speak, and merely watched as the boy ran a hand through his black curls.

“Why are you tied up like this?”

Kurt mewled slightly.

“Did your owner do this?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” The boy’s triangular eyebrows furrowed.

“He… I was bad this morning,” Kurt mumbled, ashamed.

“Wait, so this is how he’s punishing you?”

“I guess. I don’t really know. He just adopted me yesterday.”

The boy touched a gentle hand to Kurt’s cheek, and Kurt nuzzled into it. He had so missed his parents’ tender, loving touches, and the touch was a warm, light weight lifting him from his misery, even for just a moment.

“I don’t think he should be doing that to you..”

“It’s okay. I’m… I’ll get used to it.” Kurt struggled to remain strong, but it was hard when he met the boy’s heartachingly gentle, golden brown eyes.

“Are you sure? I’m so sorry,” he murmured.

“Not your fault. I’m fine.”

“BLAINE! For the last damned time, leave that animal alone and get over here so we won’t be late!”

“Coming, Dad!”

“I’m so sorry,” the boy whispered. “Are you sure you’ll be okay? Do you want me to get anyone to help?”

Kurt shook his head, and the boy’s hand lingered softly on his cheek before his father practically pulled him away. It would be years before they would meet again.

Kurt’s heart ached with loneliness at the boy’s absence, but he didn’t have much time to consider it before he heard a series of shouts and shots from inside the bar.

“Get on the ground! I fucking paid for those drugs, and you have no right-“

The voice went on and on, screaming until Kurt’s ears hurt. He pressed his face against the window, and realized with a start that it was coming from Kevin. His face was red, raw, and furious, and Kurt’s heart thrummed in his chest until it was all he could hear. He was supposed to go home with this man, this man who had already whipped him and clamped his stomach, seeming almost calm as he did so.

What would he do when he was angry?

Kurt made a hasty decision, and began to work at the knot that tied him outside the bar. His fingers worked feverishly to untie his leash as the voice grew louder and louder, closer and closer.

Just as Kurt heard the door open, he had managed to break free from the leash and took off running around the corner no longer on his hands and knees, not knowing or caring where he was going, so long as it was away.

Kevin barged out of the bar, scowling as he saw that Kurt was no longer there, but he shrugged and left quickly. There were plenty of more animals where that cat had come from.