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Ache. That was the best way to describe Robert’s feeling when he woke up. His ears were plugged with something mechanical, but he could still hear perfectly fine. The strange ears on top of his head acted as his new ones, after all. They twitched, not really able to move much beyond slight downward movements. The fluffy tail attached to his spine was no better. The white faux fur of the augmentations were soft at the least, so it didn’t scratch against his skin. A small comfort in his hell.
And worst of all? His limbs. At each joint– elbows and knees– he was dismembered. His limbs were stumps, but he’d been given prosthetic limbs. Frankly, they were high tech– something that was comparable to the expensive upkeep of the mechaman suit, even though they were very clearly metal and robotic. But he didn’t have those at the moment. No, he was lying in bed, nude and limbless once more. It wasn’t good to sleep in the prosthetics, and Shroud wouldn’t allow it even if he wanted. No, he was left vulnerable. Open.
Robert fucking hated it.
The door to his bedroom opened, revealing Toxic entering the room with a far too wide grin. The asshole was so fucking annoying just by existing. And as if Robert needed another reason to be annoyed by him, the man began to rapidly flick the light switch on the wall.
On. Off. On. Off. On. Off.
Yeah, he would fucking kill him if he had his limbs.
“Wakey, wakey princess!” His voice grates against the synthetic ear drums, the white ears twitching once more as Robert rolled his limbless body over and pressed his face into his pillow. Why the fuck was he even here? Normally it would be Shroud waking him. He kept him separate from the others, acting almost tender as he attached his prosthetics. It was sickening how he almost missed it.
“Awww, don’t be like that! The boss man himself sent me. You really want to try his patience?” Robert grumbled quietly, turning his head to glare at the man who drew closer. Now that he was actually looking at the man, he finally took notice of the black duffelbag he was carrying. His fingers flexed around the straps, readjusting their grip before he chuckled in amusement.
“There we go… Was that so hard?” His tone was sickeningly sweet. One that made Robert want to bite his thumb off like he’d done to one of the other goons in the Red Ring. The taller man hovered over him for a moment, taking in his blanket covered frame before he unceremoniously ripped the covering off. The cold air made him gasp, back arching for a moment before he let out an annoyed growl.
“What the fuck is your problem–?” He hissed out. Though Toxic clearly wasn’t listening as his eyes roved over Robert’s form.
“Hah, really? This is Mecha Man? Some little twink normie? You were soooo lucky to even get as far as you did with me. Without that suit, I would have melted you into nothing but a pile of degraded flesh.” Robert couldn’t help the scoff that left him as he turned his head away from the younger man. If he was here to annoy him, then he was certainly successful. Though the feeling of the duffelbag landing on the mattress beside him told him that wasn’t the reason he was here.
“C’mere bitch. Shroud’s given me explicit rights to you. When he’s not here, you’re mine. Got it?” Brown eyes widened in surprise and looked back up at the man before him before he scowled and wiggled his frame away from him. It was… kind of sad to watch. He didn’t get far– his stumps couldn’t find any purchase, and so he was more or less just writhing below him.
“Pffft, this is sad. Even for you.” The teeth of the zipper parting rang loudly in the air, capturing all attention to what could possibly be inside. Toxic took his time, unbothered by the struggling mutt below. It’s not like he could get anywhere like this. Plus, Shroud had left several failsafes and a few different odds and ends one could use to subdue Robert. So really? He didn’t have much to worry about beyond the gnashing maw of an upset pup. He continued what he was doing, pulling out white… Prosthetics? But didn’t Robert already have a set?
The older man furrowed his brow, writhing about again before Toxic’s hand pressed on his abdomen to still him. His brow was furrowed slightly– a silent warning to wait– before he moved to connect the first artificial limb.
It felt… Wrong. Foreign. Even with the artificial feeling of the other prosthetics, Shroud’s augmentations were begrudgingly good at transmitting movement and phantom sensations from the brain and back. It was strange, but not necessarily bad. Right now, though? It was horrific. His limbs felt wrong, not belonging to him in the slightest way. He managed to sit up a bit, looking down at the offending prosthetics and–
“Are those fucking dog legs?!” And yes, they were. White and thinly coated in the same fur that was on the ears and tails. The paws flexed, spasming slightly as his brain connected why everything felt so wrong before he was able to stretch the limbs out. They weren’t necessarily realistic— it had an almost “cute” aesthetic with three toes on each limb and silicone paw pads that seemed more fitting on a plushy or fursuit. Robert struggled against Toxic as he clicked the other limbs into place, but eventually, they were on.
The legs were proportionate, not too long that he would be off balance but not comically short. He huffed, legs curled up like a dog showing his belly as he scowled at the man above him.
“Hah— You’re almost cute like this, bitch. Speaking of—“ He dug back into the duffelbag, producing a red ring— a collar, Robert realized— and a matching leash. The leather was a vibrant sanguine, standing out against Toxic’s hands in the light of his room.
“Come on, bitch. Be a good mutt.” His hands moved, and Robert struck. His teeth bit into flesh, tearing into sinew as he growled out an angry sound.
“FUCK—!” He wrenched his hand away, growling loudly as he clutched his hand to his chest.
“Cunt—! You wanna play that game? Fine, we’ll fucking play it.” His hand struck across Robert’s face, the contact resounding in the room as his head turned with the force. He let out a grunt of pain, narrowing his eyes and glaring at the man who’d just hit him. He tried to turn over, legs shaky as he adjusted, but the younger man took the opportunity to shove him face first. The collar was slid between his neck and the bed before being hauled up to abruptly choke him.
A wheeze escaped his crushed throat, any noise becoming a whistling cry as he writhed and fought in his grip. The paws of his prosthetic clawed at his neck, but all the silicone pads did was catch and slide— he couldn’t grip with the fucking things. Of course he couldn’t, but god, he was desperate to try as his lungs burned from lack of oxygen. The buckle of the collar was cold against his flesh— pressed too tightly against his skin but definitely not aggressively choking him once Toxic let it go.
Coughs and gags wracked his frame as he struggled to calm his breathing. Everything hurt— the phantom pain of his limbs, the collar, the burn of his lungs. It hurt.
“God, was it that hard to let me put the stupid thing on you? And here I was going to show you it even had a cute tag, but nooooo! You have to be a rabid little animal and fucking bite me!” Toxic huffed out the words, glaring at the mutt that was still struggling to catch his breath before snatching the leash and clipping it roughly onto the large d-ring of the leather band.
“Come on. It’s time to fucking feed you.” He growled the words under his breath before tugging the leash. Robert yelped, barely managing to catch himself as his body struggled to acclimate to those damn dog prosthetics. It was humiliating. Why did this have to be his life? Why couldn’t he have been smart— figure out another way to save Beef and everyone else?
He fucking failed.
The silicone paws padded quietly on the floor as he slowly got the hang of crawling on them. The cutesy aesthetic wasn’t too uncomfortable actually— the large paws helped keep his balance, and the silicone absorbed some of the shock of walking so it didn’t chafe or rub against the stumps of his limbs. Though it definitely wasn’t as comfortable as the actual prosthetics he had. Or well, his actual fucking arms and legs that Shroud had removed.
Toxic was at least patient enough to walk him in circles, his grin growing wider as he watched the slight sway his hips had as he walked.
“Okay, so you can walk—“
“Excellent observation…” Robert muttered, clearly annoyed. The leash was tugged again, earning a quiet snarl from the shorter man.
“Stop fucking tugging—“
“Well maybe if you stop being such a bratty bitch, I wouldn’t have to. You do know Shroud gave you those other augmentations right? The ones that can subdue you like—“, his fingers snapped, “that?”
“Trust me, I’m fucking aware—“ Another tug got Robert out right growling, but Toxic didn’t really seem that intimidated. In fact, he was almost amused.
“Then behave. As fun as it’d be to see you nothing more than a dumb, drooling dog? You need to eat without choking or some shit.” Robert clumsily followed along, irritation prickling his spine as he crawled along behind. Each step made his hips naturally sway, and his tail augmentation wagged with the movement. Not voluntary, but enough that it looked purposeful. Robert hated it.
Hated, hated, hated.
They stopped in a kitchen, the space small and clearly made just to cater to the puppified man. It was a mockery of a small apartment in this space— somewhere that looked so similar and yet so different to his home. The kitchenette was fully stocked, and there laid a set of dog bowls on a mat meant to catch any mess.
There was a living room attached, and it seemed to go on into a bathroom and then a door that went to… Wherever. He highly doubted that it was a true exit. More than likely? This space was in some secret lair, and this was simply a place added or renovated for some sick fantasy of domestic care. A place to make him feel like he was at his apartment while far more furnished and missing the things that made it into a home.
“Pffft, are you crying? Man, that’s pathetic.” And he was. Tears were burning at his eyes, and he ducked his head against his shoulder in order to hide his face. Of course, Toxic wouldn’t allow it. Why would he? The leash was pulled, and the leather collar dug into his neck and dragged him out of hiding. His face was redirected to the younger man’s— but the face looking at him was drawn into a soft frown.
“Don’t hide.” His normally teasing tone was surprisingly… neutral. Flat? Or perhaps some other emotion that Robert couldn’t place? Whatever it was, it seemed to flicker away as he tugged Robert over to the dog bowls. Cold water was in one, and Toxic nudged Robert towards it with his foot before he tied the leash to a metal bar mounted on the wall. A thing clearly made to keep him bound by the leather to the small space.
“As cute as it is to see you cry, you need to drink. Got it?” The older man didn’t move. Tears were still biting at his lash line, and he wasn’t exactly keen on drinking something that he wasn’t sure wasn’t doctored. Even before this whole… fucked up situation, he didn’t trust food or drink. Even from his own teammates, he just… Didn’t get over that worry, and he sure as well wasn’t going to start trusting it now.
Toxic rolled his eyes, having grabbed a sauce pan and lifted it towards the man. Robert instantly flinched, expecting the hot metal to make contact with his body. Instead? The contents were dumped into the bowl with surprising care. None of it splashed, and while it was still warm, it was clear that it had been made in advance so that it wasn’t scalding hot.
The clear broth and instant noodles sat in the dish, and Toxic combed a hand through his hair before he gripped the locks to guide his head. The touch wasn’t as rough, and he seemed to be oddly caring with it all.
“Just come on and eat. It’s not fun for you to be all depressed and shit when I want to make fun of you.” And… As annoying as that statement was, Robert was just tired. He missed Chase. He missed Beef. He missed everyone at SDN. Hell, he even missed Flambae. So he conceded. To get it over with.
It took an awkward few minutes for him to figure out the best way to lean, but he was soon drinking out of the water bowl. He tried to keep some cleanliness as he drank. Though water clung to the scruff of his beard and dripped onto the mat below.
“Fucking finally… Good boy.” The hand loosened into a lazy pet, and Robert hated how he shuddered at the praise. Thankfully, the taller man didn’t comment, and he turned his head to begin eating small bites from the instant noodles. The familiar salty taste of the generic brand of beef broth and chewy noodles were nice. He missed being at home and sitting on the floor while cuddling Beef and watching some shitty videos on his phone.
But he couldn’t think about it now. Every memory felt like a stab to his heart. No, he had to focus on just the task at hand, even if it was something as simple as eating. Toxic continued to pet him, giving soft comments about how well he was behaving. The dog ears twitched on the occasion in response, and he absolutely refused to acknowledge when the tail began to wag slightly.
“See? It’s not so hard to be a good puppy, now is it?” Toxic’s hand began to travel south once Robert had mostly emptied his bowls. Two fingers slid between his folds and— fuck, when had he grown wet? The constant praise and pets must have affected him more than he realized. The digits continued to slip between, gathering his arousal before gently pressing into him.
“Who knew all it took was a little praise to get you hot and bothered… Little bitch practically begging to get bred like this…” Robert huffed and tried to pull his hips forward and away, but Toxic caught him with his free hand. He continued to press his fingers into him, slowly thrusting and increasing his speed gradually. The fact the younger man was so casually finger fucking him was another layer to this insanity.
A particular thrust had the ex-dispatcher gasping loudly, which only served to amuse the other.
“What a good boy…”
“Toxic—“
“Vincent.” The response was smooth. Casual.
“Or master, but if you’re going to call my name? It’s Vincent.” Robert was surprised that he willingly gave up such information, but the feeling was lost upon another thrust against that bundle of nerves. His back arched, and he gave a louder whine.
“Vincent— Fuck, mm—“ He should be mortified. He should be getting away. But his limbs were trembling, and the gnawing fact that he was actually enjoying this was keeping him rooted to the spot. A third finger weaseled its way in, and Robert couldn’t hold back.
His orgasm wracked his frame, and he found himself coming hard. His walls fluttered around his fingers, and a shocked laugh echoed behind him.
“Holy shit—! I didn’t think you were that fucking easy!” Another chuckle of disbelief was pulled from him as his fingers withdrew, and Robert couldn’t stop the small whine at the loss.
“Don’t worry. If you keep behaving? We’ll make you feel like that a lot more often. Got it?” The auburn haired man dumbly nodded his head as his leash was untied from the wall-mounted bar.
“Good. Now come on, bitch. Boss man wants to make sure you’re not in these too long.” And he was too tired to argue as he was led back to the bedroom.