Can we get any insight into Ashtray's conditioning/training, or maybe Mistress trying many different types of cigarettes to compare the taste (and how they burn him differently)? He's my new favorite little guy :)
congrats, you unlocked some lore! i hope you enjoy the little hints about who ashtray used to be :)
A Step Towards Ashtray
[masterlist]
CW: isolation, captivity, emotional distress, cigarette burn, implied pet whump
Behind the heavy, metal door there is a young man, though legally that description would be wrong. Behind the door, there is a future companion object, handpicked to satisfy his potential buyers in any way possible. But then again, right now he is barely at the start of his journey to becoming a perfect companion object, so Eskil Thorn just calls him a trainee, his trainee.
It had been quite the odyssey over the past two weeks or so, watching the trainee scream and claw at the door, sobbing a certain name. Of course, that did nothing to help him. Eskil knows the recipe to the perfect start is letting the trainees simmer in isolation for a bit before introducing them to their future purpose. Now that the screaming has finally stopped, maybe from exhaustion or his voice giving out, it’s a sign for Eskil to start the process.
Stepping inside, he takes in the sight before him. The trainee is curled on the floor –like a feral dog– staring at him with red-rimmed but beautifully big blue eyes. Bits of ripped-out hair lay around him and Eskil makes a mental note to nip that behaviour in the bud. His golden-blond hair is one of the trainee's assets, which will eventually put him in a high price range and Eskil can’t let him ruin that.
“Are you ready for your lesson?”
The trainee nods frantically.
“Please, sir, anything! I– I can’t– please!” he rasps, inching forward to Eskil.
If he were any other designation, Eskil would love the begging. It’s always a sweet surprise when the trainees exhibit these behaviours early on. Unfortunately however, that won’t be a necessary skill for him, though it is undeniably a promising start.
With shaking hands, the trainee grasps onto Eskil’s pants, his eyes shining with tears. “Don’t leave me alone, sir, please!”
Perfect.
“Sure, I’ll stay with you for a while. But you have to do something for me first.”
See, where the other handlers try to force it, Eskil lets his trainees take their first steps on their own. And to get them motivated, isolation works wonders.
The trainee is basically vibrating with desperation. It’s not his first lesson. He doesn’t beg to be let out anymore, not since they shocked his signature out of him, and he’s given up on insisting on “his name”. Instead, it is a sort of resigned despair that makes him perfectly malleable.
“Wh-what do you want me to do?”
With a smile, Eskil pulls out a cigarette and a lighter from his pocket. Something warm prickles in his chest as he looks at the lighter, a gift from his wife, decorated with small doodles. Slowly, he lights the cigarette and takes a single drag, watching smoke fill the room.
He sits down, his legs crossed, and lets himself be warily watched by the trainee. They stay like that in silence, Eskil sitting patiently, the trainee kneeling on all fours before him like a dog, seemingly undecided between wanting to lean away in suspicion and throwing himself in Eskil’s lap.
Then, he holds out the burning cigarette, inching it closer to the trainee, who just blinks uncomprehendingly. Maybe his future purpose is still beyond his understanding, Eskil supposes.
“Come on, give me your arm, will you.”
The trainee flinches and gawks at him with those big blue eyes, his lip twitching as he suppresses a cough.
“Why?” he whispers, his eyes fixating on the cigarette. Still, he doesn’t move away from Eskil’s vicinity.
“Oh,” Eskil chuckles, “I think you know exactly what for. Now, don’t you want to be a good boy? It’ll be worth it, it’ll all be worth it in the end, I promise.”
Eskil just watches the trainee’s shocked expression morph between conflicting emotions. The promised touch is like a drug in his starved and isolated state. Until eventually, the trainee nods, defeated. He holds out his arm as if he could choose.
Deliberately, Eskil moves the cigarette bud closer and closer to his shoulder. The trainee only tenses up, flinching away from the heat, but makes no move to flee.
The cigarette makes contact with his skin and he lets out a strangled yelp, eyes flitting to Eskil’s face, as if trying to figure out if this noise would be enough to make Eskil leave.
Ash spreads over the trainee’s pale skin. There is barely a mark beneath it yet, but it will come in time—his first burn blister of hopefully many.
Satisfied, Eskil flicks the extinguished cigarette to the side and opens his arms. After a breath of hesitation Eskil pretends not to notice, the trainee flings himself into his embrace, his chest hitching with silent sobs.
He claws into Eskil’s shirt with a feral need that goes beyond the two weeks of isolation, beyond the acclimation period after the walk-in. Maybe he sees something in him, some sort of figure he lost and whose comfort he secretly grieved. It is all out in the open now, the trainee’s soul ripped fresh open for the world to see. A brief burst of vulnerability, soon to be replaced by perfect obedience.
Suddenly, hesitantly, the trainee raises his head from Eskil’s shoulder, catching his gaze with immense sorrow.
“Sir? What… what will happen to my little brother? N-now that he’s all alone and he’s never been alone, I’ve always been there for him and he’s–”
Eskil shushes him softly, laying one hand on the back of the trainee’s head.
“There’s no my for you anymore, never forget that. But I’m sure he’ll manage.”
taglist: @whumpsday, @2in1whump, @sodacreampuff, @webbo0, @toyybox, @clickerflight
let me know if you want to be added or removed :)
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So at my workplace, we fund a Food Is Free shelf. It's the basics: take what you need, give what you can - our town has a high level of poverty, there's a cost of living crisis, be the good you want to see in the world etc etc.
Today we had a guy knock on the door and ask if we had a plastic bag he could use to carry a few things - I said sure, got him a plastic bag, and he started packing up his 2 rolls of toilet paper, his 3 or 4 foodstuff items. He said he'd been to a funeral out of town (1500 kms away) and spent his paycheck on fuel - he was only broke till Friday, he said.
And I said, well I'm glad we could help, it's why we have the shelf. We want the community to use it.
And he said:
But people ABUSE it! I've seen people take heaps of stuff from it - and they don't even have kids or anything. And it's fair enough, some people are struggling until the next paycheck, but other people just ABUSE it. You need a sign that says TAKE ONE ITEM ONLY or something. I've taken something from here maybe twice, but I've seen people coming round every week! I've even put stuff on the shelf! Yeah, you need CAMERAS or something. People abuse it.
So here is a man who is actively utilising a public resource that we created to support our local community...And yet he is so brainwashed by capitalism into thinking that people don't deserve basic needs - if they're not working hard, or maybe they're struggling but they don't have it As Bad as others, or they're using a FREE RESOURCE more often than HE thinks is acceptable. He thinks that we should use security cameras to crack down on people "STEALING" from the Food is FREE shelf. Like he's more worthy, like he's a better person, because he doesn't need as much help as others might.
Sometimes, when something is free, people might abuse it. But isn't it better to offer the support to people who need it? To offer an opportunity for people to get back on their feet (even if they're only broke till Friday)? To provide help, no questions asked and no conditions needed?
So what if people abuse it - isn't it worth it if helps someone?
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