Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The door of the room opens with a clanking noise, making me realize that there are actual bars on the door. Mink keeps his Siren locked in a cage, and now, I’m in here with him. I feel fear in the pit of my stomach when I hear the sound of jingling keys.

“What are you doing to him, Aoba?” Mink’s voice is menacing.

“I was only comforting him. He is afraid and alone and missing his master.” Aoba sounds quietly defiant.

“And how is that your job? Perhaps you could think of comforting me, your own master and captain. But you don’t have that in your cold, hard heart, do you?” Mink looms over Aoba as he speaks. I’m frozen in place, not knowing what to do.

Aoba covers me protectively. “He is a much more delicate creature than I am—even more so than I was when I first came here, Mink! You can’t treat him like you’ve treated me!”

“And who are you to tell me what I can and cannot do?” Mink’s hand comes down in a flash, smacking Aoba’s cheek hard enough to knock him backward, knocking me out of his arms. He pulls Aoba up off the floor by his arm and grabs his ear, and a pained squeal comes out of Aoba’s mouth that sends shivers down my spine.

I reach up and put my hand on Mink’s arm, and I beg. “Please.” On my knees, once again on the dirty floor. “I’ll come with you, and do what you want. Just tell me what you want from me. You’ve hurt him enough. Please, no more.”

Mink’s cool blue eyes turn to face me, interested that I have spoken, and shocked that I’d dare interrupt. “Rai hasn’t trained you to keep quiet, little one?” He looks down at me, looming over me.

I feel my body trembling. I answer quietly, “Punish me if you like, for my insolence, for my interruption. But Aoba has had enough.”

I hear a guffaw from Mink. “Aren’t you a brave little fellow? I see why Rai finds you fascinating. Come along then.” He drops Aoba to the floor, and I hear those heavy shackles clank against the ground, a grunt of pain expelled from Aoba’s mouth.

“Konoe!” I hear Aoba, yelling after me, as I’m dragged from the room.

Mink picks me up and throws me over his shoulder like a sack of flour. The halls are dark, but I’m sure we are still on land. This is not a ship. I just hope Rai will find me, and soon, before this monster kills me. He will find me, won’t he? I hear Mink open a door, and he walks inside. He throws me unceremoniously to the floor and has a seat in a chair, crossing his legs.

“My master, he’s all right, isn’t he?” I ask. I catch my breath after having the wind knocked out of me. What’s with this cat, throwing smaller cats around like this? “Is he still here? Does he know where I am? Was he injured? He is fiercely protective of me, you know? I’d hate for anything to happen to you if you were to treat me poorly.”

Mink looks down at me. He is terrifying. His chiseled face betrays no emotion. His cool blue eyes stare down at me without an ounce of feeling or sympathy. His dreadlocks are tied back with a pink bandana, and I’m shocked to see several hoops in his ear. They are different from mine, however, much wider in diameter, having stretched out the hole in his ear significantly. Are they jade, perhaps? But why are his ears pierced? Isn’t that a sign of slavery?

“Why are your ears pierced?” I can’t stop the question from spilling from my lips. And worse, more words come tumbling out before I manage to stop them. “Does that mean you were once a slave, too?”

His eyes look at me harshly, and I immediately regret my question. But it almost felt like I wasn’t the one asking. “You ask entirely too many questions and talk way too much with that voice of yours,” Mink states, but his voice isn’t cruel. It sounds more like he is enduring something annoying rather than threatening me. “And don’t you at least wait for an answer before you go on to the next question? You’re so poorly trained.”

I don’t like him talking about training me as though I were a pet. And making it worse, he reaches out to my ears, stroking them gently. “These are even softer than they appear. Your white fur feels downy, like Tori’s feathers.” He nods toward the corner of the room, where I spy a perch. And on that perch, I see that gigantic, majestic cockatoo, in all his proud white and pink glory, where he preens himself elegantly.

Watching him preen himself with his tiny eyepatch in place, I let out a little giggle. I can’t help it! He looks exactly like my master would if he himself were a bird. Just slightly pinker. Rai grooms himself in exactly the same way, as if putting on a show.

Mink is stunned by my laughter. “Are you really such a light-hearted spirit, that you can find something to laugh about, even when your future is at stake, while your safety is in question?” I can tell he means to speak harshly, but his tone is more surprised than anything else.

“It’s not that,” I explain. “It’s just that your bird reminds me of my master. If he were a bird, this is what he would look like.” When I say these words, the cockatoo stops his grooming at looks up at me, as if he understands my words. He looks almost offended. That expression really looks like Rai! “Even that expression! How he elegantly preens himself reminds me of him so much.”

“I am not a cat,” comes a gravelly voice from the corner perch. What the hell? Did he speak? The bird just spoke? I am shocked. I look to Mink and back to the bird. I rub my ears, thinking I must have misheard.

When I look at Mink, I see him rolling his eyes. “What a frivolous creature you are. It must be your nature. Carefree and frivolous. Aoba was like that when I first claimed him.”

I’m quiet for a moment, and I sit up on the floor, keeping my back straight, hugging my knees to my body, wrapping my tail snuggly around myself. I try to look submissive, as per Aoba’s instructions.

“Why do you keep him locked up in such a sad place?” I ask. “He’s unhappy there. He’s alone, broken, in despair. What are you trying to do to him?”

“It’s Aoba’s choice to remain where he is. He knows he could stay with me and have every care of his met. All he has to do is obey my commands. But he refuses to submit to my will.”

What is this man talking about? I’ve never seen a more submissive creature than Aoba! I’m honestly shocked to hear him talk like this.

“Perhaps he is unable to do as you wish, because of how he is kept,” I suggest delicately. 

Mink leans down toward me, leaning the entirety of his massive upper body in my direction. I shrink away from him reflexively. He frightens me. Perhaps I am speaking out of turn.

“I am sorry,” I cast my eyes down. “I spoke out of turn. I don’t know what it is you want him to do. I only know about poor living conditions from my own limited experience. Please forgive me.”

His hand reaches out and grabs my collar, and he pulls me toward him, pulling me up onto his lap. I feel utter revulsion when he touches me, when my body comes in contact his. A wave of nausea comes over me. Please, no—the thought of him touching me intimately disgusts me.

“Your purpose—it’s not speaking, little one. You have quite a lesson to learn here, and I’m more than happy to teach you.” I flinch when I hear the word “lesson” from Mink, and my breath catches. I also feel my heart rate increase. “Your role is to please your master in every way. I’m not sure exactly what that arrogant silver cat has been teaching you, but I can tell he is much too permissive for my taste. You need much stricter discipline, at least while you are in my household.”

Keeping one hand on my collar, which holds me in his lap, straddling his large thighs, he moves his other hand down my back toward the base of my tail, which he grabs and pulls cruelly. A small pained noise comes out of my mouth, and a tear slips down my cheek.

“Oh, tears already? Is this part of the Siren’s nature as well? Aoba is a crybaby, too. I’ve barely even touched you yet!” He looks at my face closely. I want him to get his hands off my tail. 

“Actually, let’s see what you’ve got in you as far as obedience and compliance goes. Maybe you can teach Aoba something, or whether you need to learn from him. You said I could punish you for your insolence, after all, and I’ll be punishing you for excessive lip.” He releases his hands from my collar and tail, and I fall off his lap, gracelessly, onto the floor again.

“Get to your feet,” his harsh voice commands. I obey as quickly as I can. “Remove your clothes. You won’t require them while you’re here anyway. Sirens do not need clothing. They only hinder your duties.”

Hearing these words, I feel diminished as a person—like he’s made me into an object—and I feel shame. I know he doesn’t see me as a fellow cat. I feel blood rushing to my face and ears as I reach for the button on my coat. As I unbutton it, I try my question one more time.

“Is my master safe? Is he here? Was he left unharmed?”

I see a flash of silver from Mink’s hand—the rings on his fingers—just before his hand makes contact with my face. I hear a ringing in my ears when his hand connects to my cheek, and the blow forces additional tears from my eyes. I bring both my hands up to cover my cheek in shock—I nearly lost my balance when he hit me with the impact of the blow, though I know he took it easy compared to when he hit Aoba.

“I asked you to strip, not ask questions,” Mink snarls. “Shut your mouth and obey.”

A small whimper leaks out of my mouth, and I try to hurry. I feel swelling in my cheek where he hit me, and I taste blood in my mouth. I even bit my tongue from the force of the blow. That was the first time anyone has ever hit me in the face like that.

I slip my arms out of the coat and look for a place to put it, looking to him for instructions.

“Leave it on the floor. I’ll have it discarded later. You won’t be needing it again.”

My heart aches when I hear those words, but I try not to become discouraged. I unlace my boots and awkwardly pull them off my feet while remaining standing. Then, I unbuckle my belt and pull it off. I undo the knee garters on my breeches and pull off my stockings. I fold my clothing up neatly on the floor, rather than throwing it aside. I don’t make eye contact with Mink as I disrobe. He is not Rai. He is not my master. He doesn’t deserve my best treatment.

My fingers are trembling when I reach the buttons on my breeches, and it takes a few tries to get them undone. I’m starting to feel overcome with fear. Mink watches me closely, and I’m sure he sees me shaking. I pull the breeches off my hips, and fold them up neatly, adding them to the pile of clothes. My blouse is long enough to cover my important parts anyway.

I get to work on the top button, which is about mid-way down my chest. As I undo the buttons, I hear a gasp form Mink when he spies my nipple piercings.

“I noticed the chain when you walked into the bar,” he comments. “But as Rai is your owner, I thought there was no way he’d do a traditional Sisa slave piercing on you. It looks amazing. Was it painful?” His voice actually shows interest, when he talks about me experiencing pain.

I don’t answer. I continue getting undressed.

“Oy,” comes his sharp voice. “I just asked you a question. It’d be in your best interest to answer.”

I look up, and his eyes gleam wickedly. “Of course it hurt.”

“But what? You enjoyed it? Do you enjoy pain? You suffered in spite of the pain for your beloved master’s sake?” I hate the mocking tone in his voice. I’ll be damned if I admit any of those things, but I certainly cannot let him know about my strange relationship with pain and pleasure under any circumstances.

“Because he’s my master, I tolerated it. It was our first interaction. He’s made up for any pain he’s caused since then. He explained it signifies ownership and it will protect me from his crew as well as others.”

“How’s that worked out for you so far? That protection, I mean.” Mink continues, absolute derision in his voice. I hate him. I hate him. I want Rai, and I want out of here.

“He will come back for me,” I say quietly.

Mink’s hands reach out for me quite suddenly, pulling me in close. He’s uncrossed his legs, and he pulls me between them, pressing me against his crotch. He has his hands on the silk blouse. “Such fine fabric. You haven’t been with Rai for long, have you? It’s less than two weeks between here and Sisa, so it’s been about that amount of time, hasn’t it? And yet, he managed to find such fine clothing for you, and it fits so well?”

“I don’t know how he managed it, either.” Truthfully, I don’t wear much clothing on the ship—or haven’t been wearing much on the ship, though it was available if I wanted it. I’ve been uncomfortably hot, and it just slows me down. However, every piece I’ve tried on fits me to a tee. I have no idea how he gets the sizes so perfect if I’ve never even been measured.

I hear a ripping sound. Mink has torn the beautiful ivory silk from my chest, and he continues to shred it, piece by piece, from my body. With each tear, something is torn from my chest, from my heart. He has such a look of joy in his eyes, though his face remains static, nearly expressionless.

“Like I said, fine clothes or not, you won’t need them while you’re in my company,” he explains. I watch as tatters of the beautiful blouse fall to the ground. I don’t cry, however. And now, I’m standing nude between his legs. I keep my eyes cast down to the floor.

“You certainly do have a lovely form,” Mink says admiringly. “Lithe, athletic, slim but not too thin. You’re more petite than Aoba, even. And your skin is amazingly smooth.” I feel his hands against my sides, running down underneath my arms, along my torso, dipping in at my waist, out at my hips. “This line of your body is particularly attractive.” The feeling of disgust wells up in my throat like vomit.

I look up for a moment, meeting his blue eyes with my large honey-colored ones. My expression is sad, almost pitying. He has his own Siren, which is so very rare, very uncommon. If he had only taken better care of Aoba, he could have had a relationship like Rai enjoys with me. But he hasn’t done that. He has his own selfish motives, and he’s crushed everyone near and dear to Aoba. And now, he does nothing but punish the blue cat, who in return, keeps to himself.

“You have quite defiant eyes,” Mink says. “How are we going to fix this?” He seems to be asking himself. “Surely, your master must have punished you at least once. I’m sure Rai must have enjoyed it. I know exactly what I’d like to do, in fact. What about you? Didn’t you find it effective?”

“Captain Mink, sir,” I address him formally. “What is it you want from me?”

Mink stands up suddenly, walking to a dresser a little way away. His room is really inelegant. It can’t possibly be a hotel—it’s dusty, though the floors in here are cleaner than some of the other rooms we passed, and much cleaner than Aoba’s dungeon. I hear some clinking noises as he returns to me. He’s holding up some heavy-looking chains.

“Here, instead of clothing, Sirens wear shackles,” Mink explains. “This reminds them that there is no escape. And it also provides those around them with additional control in case the Siren were to try something unnecessary. Hold out your hands.”

Reluctantly, I hold out my hands as instructed. “Engraved gold wrist cuffs?” Mink whistles. “Nothing but the best for this spoiled kitten, I see.” The chains are quite heavy, once they are connected to both of my wrists. “I require your ankles, too.”

I sit on the ground and lift my feet into his lap, and he attaches an additional chain between my ankles. He runs his hands along the soles of my feet, once the shackles are attached. They are heavy as well, making it harder to walk. The two chains between my wrists and ankles are attached to a third chain, which is attached to my collar. He runs a finger around the elegant scrollwork of the collar. “Each piece is a part of a matching set. I see you are truly spoiled. You will not hold such a position here. The sooner you learn that, the better.”

He grabs the chain cruelly, and I realize he can control my body now, making me feel like a puppet. I hate this! Fresh tears fall from my eyes—frustrated, angry tears, and Mink doesn’t miss them.

“Crying again? Oh, I’ll give you something to cry about here in a minute.” He drags me by the shackles to the corner. “Here, you do not cry unless you are in pain. There is no self-pity here. Let’s give you something worth those precious tears of yours. Come.”

He drags my arms up overhead, attaching them to the wall in front of me and slightly above shoulder height, but he shoves a stool beneath my belly, so I’m draped up over it, bent over it, sticking my ass out behind me. My toes barely reach the floor—I work to maintain my balance, and when I do, the most I can do is stand on my tiptoes. Looking up, I see there is a mirror in front of me, hanging on the wall. Mink’s cruel expression is reflected in the mirror, and he’s watching me closely. How humiliating! My face is pink already, my ears and chest getting redder by the minute.

“This punishment is to cover both your insolence earlier, when I was speaking to Aoba and you butted your nose in where it didn’t belong, and also to teach you that there is no crying over superficial things. If there are tears, they are tears of pain.”

I watch as he caresses my ass with more than a little enthusiasm, and a chill runs through my body. I try to wiggle away from him, but I can’t since the stool is too tall. A wave of fear comes over me. I’m afraid of what he will do to me—and it feels like a bucket of ice water pouring over my back when I see him pull a slender leather whip from the dresser. Gods, a whip!

“N-no,” I beg. “Please—please, have mercy! I already suffered at your hand when you punished Aoba earlier. Please—have mercy!”

“Are you afraid, kitten?” Mink asks in a silky voice, hand caressing my ass softly. “I can definitely see where you were affected earlier. I wondered what was going on then. Do you suppose Aoba will be able to feel your pain as well? I can’t wait to find out. I usually have him count, but I don’t know how many strokes I want to give you. I don’t know how many it will take to break your will. I can’t wait to see these perfect, round cheeks glowing red and jiggling.” His voice is laced with lust. I’m filled with absolute terror, and I can’t stop my tears.

“I’m hoping by the time we’re finished, you’ll be malleable in my fingers, like clay. Ready to be molded into whatever creature I desire.” His voice is still like that—filled with lust and desire—and I’m disgusted. “Lift up your face, and keep it raised, so I can see your expression in the mirror. I’ll be mighty displeased if you fail.”

I lift up my chin as best as I can, and I see the whip coming down on my ass. It makes a whooshing sound, and I hear the smack on my ass—it cracks in the air, filling up the room with a full, satisfying sound. Only after the sound rings in my ears does the pain register, and I let out a cry of pain. It’s much, much worse than Rai’s belt. The whip is made of thin, smooth leather, so there’s almost no sound in the air. But the feeling when it hits my ass is so painful—it’s sharp, biting, and it stings, causing my body to twitch and jump.

I don’t get a chance to recover from the first crack before he brings it down for the next—and it hurts even more. This one is aimed lower, right where my legs and bottom meet. I give a shrieking cry in response. It’s so sensitive there—where Rai likes to groom—and the burning sensation from the blow of the whip stays there for a long time after Mink moves on to another spot.

He aims for my right and left cheeks separately—and the thin whip makes for an exacting tool for punishment. He can aim exactly where he wants, and it inflicts the maximum amount of pain. I can feel the raised lines from where the whip has hit my flesh, reddening darkly, burning.

The next two blows are aimed lower still—against the tender backs of my thighs. I’ve never been hit there, and the skin is smooth, unblemished, and extra sensitive. I cry in earnest complete with tears when the whip comes down against my legs—unable to bear it. I try to stand up, to escape the blows, but I can’t because my hands are shackled to the wall in front of me.

Mink aims a few more strokes against my ass, concentrating on each cheek and my sit spot, before he kicks the stool a little closer to the wall. I try to stand up, and when I do, he smacks the backs of my thighs so soundly I snap my legs together and scream in pain.

“You will stay right where you are,” growls the low voice behind me. “Open your legs.”

I don’t think I can. He whips my thighs again, harder still—and another cry rips out of me. “Obey me, Siren. Open your legs, or I will make you obey.” The whip comes down once more on my thighs—it hurts so much! In the mirror, I can see where the tip of the whip has reached the front of my thigh, and the mark it left is raised and bright red.

When he whips my legs, I feel like I have to snap them together, defending myself, but I am truly trying to obey. I simply can’t get my body to do what it’s supposed to, because the whipping hurts so much. Taking calming deep breaths, I am able to lean forward on the stool and spread my legs wide. I realize he has much better access to my sit spot now, which fills me with dread. I’m terribly exposed like this, and I worry he may do permanent damage to parts of me that should never be touched with a whip.

“That’s a good boy,” Mink praises me. But his praise does nothing for me. Especially not when the whip comes down against that tender part of my ass once more. I scream loudly, sobs wracking my body.

“Mink, please!” I beg. “I can’t take anymore—please—please, stop.” I’m crying constantly now, not just when the whip comes down, but also in between blows.

“It’s too early to be begging for mercy, little one,” Mink says. And then I feel the whip come down against my thighs, and it wraps itself around the inside of my leg. It hurts so much I nearly kick the chair over, and I scream louder than I have yet. The pain completely engulfs me, engulfs my body, and I start hallucinating. A glow comes over my body, and a song rises up from my chest.

It’s a song of protection and healing. My song has never been used offensively—I don’t know how to use it to defend myself, really, either. But I can use it to heal my wounds, and apparently, to heal wounds currently being inflicted when the pain becomes too much to bear. I can’t understand the lyrics of the song, but the melody definitely implies both healing and protection.

In the mirror, I see Mink’s shocked expression, but he also looks delighted. He cracks the whip cruelly, joyfully, once more against my open thighs, allowing the whip to snap against the sensitive flesh on the inside of my legs, reaching almost up to the crevice between them. I think I see him smiling, and I'm utterly revolted. I’m still in terrible pain, and I reply with another terrifically loud scream. But the protection from the song seems to soften the after-effects, and it prevents the pain from spreading through my ass and down my legs.

He tries out the whip on my tail, which is excruciating as well. It wraps itself in my fur, matting it down, pulling some out by the root. I scream, but it doesn’t hurt as bad as the whipping against my thighs.

My tears are flowing full force, and my song flows continuously from my body. Mink is watching me with fascination, eyeing my reflection as he continues the punishment. I wonder if Aoba sings this way or if his song is different. The effort from the song, however, is wearing me thin, and also, my calves and legs are cramping from reaching up on tiptoe the past fifteen minutes. My legs shake in exhaustion and from pain, my breath is hitching, and I need help.

The outer edges of my eyes grey out, fading slowly, like I’m looking through a tunnel. I am hoping—sincerely hoping—that I lose consciousness, and soon. I can’t take anymore, and I simply must escape it somehow. I feel two more blows, directed to my inner thighs, the pain creeping up higher and higher each time. And finally, just before I lose consciousness completely, I vomit on the floor just in front of the mirror.

Then, my world turns black.