No steps, but long strides.
Using crutches is a wonderful way of restraining your slave at home. I can get around but not for a second do I forget that I am owned, that I am property, treasured, looked after, safe and secure. It is a nice feeling. At the same time my feet are securely locked yet I can get around with ease and comfort. A pair of handcuffs and I am grounded.
If the feet are to be secured all day, it is useful to use padding. Classic slave shackles with two d-shackles and a bolt allow me to crutch around and to stand but with my feet secured rigid like this there is not even baby steps for me.
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whumptober - Bruce & Dick
No. 2: “I’ll call out your name, but you won’t call back.”
Thermometer | Delirium | “They don’t care about you.”
first | master | next
The stranger isn't human, although the species may be humanoid. Bruce can't see anything directly, but the gloved hands are four fingered and long, and the way they move is odd and liquid. Regardless, the stranger has a good understanding of human physiology.
Maybe they looked into human torture methods. Or maybe torture is universal.
To start, he and Dick are suspended by their wrists, feet completely off the ground. Escaping the restraints proves futile. The pain of being held in a stress position is something he has endured many times before, and he goes into his mind to numb the pain and pass the time. Dick complains of boredom, trying to goad the stranger back, put them on edge and catch them unawares. When Bruce glances at him, he can almost see the way Dick's arms and shoulders are stretched unnaturally beneath the white fabric; his collagen disorder means this stressor is more damaging than for a normal man.
And this is just the beginning.
When the stranger comes back to dole out the next punishment, they get close enough that Bruce wraps his legs around their neck, but the next moment he's being shocked and the stranger is gone. While Bruce is twitching on the floor, across the barrier the stranger has Dick's feet in restraints, legs bent behind him by a thick wire. The alien seems to be able to teleport in objects as well, maybe manipulate metal into whatever shape they need.
Dick wriggles in the new position. "Hey, this is a pretty nice stretch. I could use some yoga, maybe down dog next?"
The stranger manifests a switch, and starts beating the exposed underside of Dick's feet. Dick grits his teeth, but keeps up the inane banter—for annoyance, distraction, and perhaps to boost Bruce's morale.
Bruce was the one who attacked the stranger, but Dick is being punished for it. He keeps his expression neutral. The stranger doesn't seem to know much about who Batman and Nightwing are, besides that they were non-meta human heroes. They can't afford to let the torturer know how close they are. It will only be used against them.
The stranger beats Dick's feet until they are bloody, and his whole body shakes and his skin is pale. "Gonna need a pedicure after this," he says, a little loopy. "Do they have those on your planet?"
The stranger pops over to Bruce's side, and starts on him.
-
They can both handle physical pain. It's exhausting, but they don't break. Their torturer knows how to injure without killing them.
The dehydration will kill them soon.
Bruce's skin is dry, his heart rate is elevated, and he feels more exhausted than he should. Dick's eyes are sunken; his must be as well. Dizzy spells come and go. The lights are always on, pulsing, and neither of them can sleep. He's not even sure he or Dick are getting micro naps.
His own thoughts feel slippery.
"Do you think this guy… gal…" Dick starts to say from where he's lying on his back, arm slung over his eyes to block the bright light. "This… guy-al knows that humans need water and food to live? And sleep?"
"Yes," Bruce rasps.
"Cause it would be… antithetical to their, uh, goals if we kicked the bucket."
"Hn."
"Could really go for a nice, cold ginger ale right now. Followed by a green smoothie with the works. Kale, ginger, apple, spinach. Green." Dick shifts, and rubs his eyes. "Maybe I shouldn't mention ginger. You ever been, uh—" He giggles, and it sounds a little manic. His words are slurring.
"Nightwing." Bruce sits up, and moves closer to the barrier, trying to focus on his partner.
"You know what I'm talking about? Don't want to give 'em any ideas…"
"Can you refocus?" If Dick's mind is already addled, further stressors could break him. But this is Dick—he's never broken before.
The human mind can only take so much without sleep and fuel.
"Mm don't want to," Dick complains. By his side, his free hand taps on the ground. Morse code: A-L-L G-O-O-D.
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Cold, cold slave's feet.
Being kept barefoot is intense. Being kept barefoot can be painful but also be very, very liberating. Every step I do, a gentle sting and a gentle reminder that I am not in charge. I am secured. Someone else looks after my feet. Walking is not a right. Walking is something I might - or might not - be allowed to do. Socks and shoes are for humans. A slave presents it's feet to be secured or disciplined. I am not in charge I am free from responsibility.
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