Chapter Text
Shane’s panic built up more and more the closer they got to home. He knew the place well by now, and he knew every bad thing that had happened to him had so far happened there. Sure, some good stuff too, but always with the twist that they shouldn’t be considered good.
Ilya pulled into the garage, something that Shane thought was probably to help conceal Shane more. Would he be desperate? Yes. Would he try to escape again? He was tempted, but no, he wasn’t that dumb. He knew trying to escape again so soon would go bad. Besides, where would he even go? He was trapped. Stuck. Doomed.
If he was ever going to have gotten away after things went to shit, it would have had to have been when they left the clinic. By that point, though, Ilya was grabbing him by the arm so tightly he swore his circulation was cut off, dragging him out with the promise that whatever he imagined he’d do to him for trying to escape the first time, he’d do far worse to his family if he tried to escape once they were outside.
So he didn’t. It was his weakness, he assumed, but at least it was a good one to have. He loved his family. He wouldn’t let them get hurt. Not if he could stop it, and Ilya made it clear, at least through a sense of delusion, that he had the choice to stop it by just behaving.
He didn’t have to fear for them at the very least, but still, he feared for himself. Far more than he ever had, maybe. At least since he first got there and found out what was going to happen to him.
Ilya closed the garage door behind them and shut off the car, and suddenly, Shane felt so trapped that he couldn’t breathe. This was another panic attack, no doubt about it.
“No, no, no….” Shane whines out as he watches Ilya cross the length of the car and open Shane’s door for her. “Please.”
Please, what though? Shane didn’t even know. Please let him go? Please don’t hurt him? Please treat him like a human being? Maybe all of the above.
He didn’t know what was coming next; he just knew it couldn’t be good. He could never predict things with Ilya. Not what punishment he’d get, not that the doctor was a sham, nothing.
He had no idea when Ilya got so smart, or had he just always been? Either way, Shane felt like he just got dumber the more desperate he got. And this was all just proof of that.
Ilya didn’t waste time telling Shane what to do. No, he simply made him do it. He reached into the car and undid the seatbelt for him, then grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him out of the car, like a ragdoll, as Shane gave no effort to help.
“No!” Shane cried, nothing left to lose or fear, left to beg in the most pathetic ways.
Shane’s body was weighed down from the way he refused to carry any of his weight, and actually help Ilya hurt him further. It wasn’t truly fighting back; it was just doing nothing. When he got out of the car, Ilya barely held him up quick enough before his ass hit the floor, instead hovering right around his heels before Ilya could haul him up further.
Ilya cursed in Russian, and Shane realized he probably wasn’t helping things. But was there any guarantee that complying would help? No. Ilya was not only clearly pissed either way, but he was a man of principle. He believed every time he punished Shane, she was learning something. He’d never skip over that, not for himself, but for her.
Ilya moved him out of the way so he could close the car door, and then turned his full attention to Shane. She was laid out on the cold concrete of the garage, skirt riding up to show off her panties, and of course, the fear in her eyes.
“Up,” Ilya demanded from his wife.
Shane’s breathing was all over the place, and he could barely get out a word, but when he did, he somehow still had the balls to say “No.”
“Shane.” a mix of warning, disappointment, and pity. As if he already knew how this ended for her. Probably because he did.
“Please…” Shane’s voice cracked, broken like the rest of him, as he continued to beg when the world was out of his control.
Ilya wasn’t waiting any longer. He was a big, tough guy; he could just pick his wife up. So he did. With her fighting, it was easier to do a fireman’s carry, but he longed for a time when he could hold her bridal style and maybe even spin her around and make her smile. Wrong time for that, but one day.
Shane’s panic only grew when he was being carried into the house. Being so weightless, so out of control in so many ways, and being in the hands of Ilya of all people, it felt inevitable. He didn’t just cry and hyperventilate; he freaked out. His hands banged on Ilya’s back in fists, and his legs kicked out at everything and anything he could reach.
He was strong! He was a hockey player who went to the gym or ran all the fucking time! At least he used to….
But Ilya was hardly reacting. There was no way Ilya was that much stronger than him. Unless, of course, he was already losing his strength. The idea was scary. He didn’t remember a time pre-puberty when he wasn’t doing his best to be at the top of his game, but now? Now he supposed all he had was yoga and… well, sex.
Of course, there was also the idea that the estrogen wasn’t helping. But could that be already taking effect, too? Ilya was carrying him like it was nothing, and maybe it really was getting closer and closer to that. Like he was carrying Svetlana or something to him.
Up the steps, Shane continued to fight, just because there was no other option in his mind. If he couldn’t escape Ilya, then he wanted to escape his own body, escape reality.
They got up to the room, and without any further words, Ilya deposited him on the bed, once again as if he weighed nothing to him.
Being free meant that Shane was going to back up and scoot all the way back to the end of the bed. Anything far away from his touch. He didn’t trust him. Of course, he didn’t. He watched him with wide eyes as he moved to lock the door and then came back to Shane with a look on his face that was tired, but determined.
Shane screamed when he first reached out, scared he was going to hit him, but instead, Ilya just grabbed for his sweater. He wanted to undress him. Not something new, but something that terrified all the same.
Shane squirmed as he undressed him, but there were worse things to fear than being undressed. Still, his brain couldn’t come to that term. He was scared of anything and everything, especially if it led him closer to whatever came next.
By the time he was undressed, Ilya was pulling the cage back out. It was no surprise, nor was the return of his collar, but still. It was all hard on Shane, almost as if it were the first time all over again.
He knew that couldn’t be it, though, and he was so scared of what came next he couldn’t help but try to beg again.
“Please, please, don’t hurt me,” He cried.
“You think I am going to hurt you?” Ilya asked him, actually seemingly interested in what Shane said next.
Shane just nodded, though, not sure what to voice.
“My goal is not to hurt you, but to teach you,” Ilya said. “You are my wife, have been for some time now, but you do not seem to remember that.”
He remembered, though, he did. How could he not know, given that it was shoved down his throat all the time?!
“I know that,” Shane sniffed, like it would win him points. “I’m-I’m your wife.”
“Yes,” Ilya smiled. “But you don’t know, do you?”
“I do!”
“No,” Ilya shook his head. “If you know you’re mine, then why would you try to get away from me? Good girls don’t do that.”
“I just forgot!” Shane tried to tell him. “I-I forgot, I was all alone, and I was overwhelmed, and I forgot! Of course, I’m yours. How could I ever be anything else?”
Shane’s look was so pleading, so desperate. Ilya saw through it, though.
“You forgot?” he still played along.
On Shane’s end, though, he took this playful tone as something closer to forgiving. Like he was giving him a chance to be good. He could be good. She could be so good if it got her out of the unknown she feared.
Shane nodded, a tear slipping down her face. “I’m sorry,” She sniffed. “I’m just a dumb little wife after all, just like you say.”
It might have been performative, but Ilya loved hearing her say that. Seeing her like this. One day, he hoped she’d beg for something other than this. Mercy, but maybe in the bedroom. Something seductive and not genuinely fearful. Didn’t she know she didn’t need to fear him? He’d always do what’s best for her. She just needed to go along with it. That was her flaw, and her fault.
“I do say that sometimes, don’t I, малышка?” Ilya sat on the bed, still far enough away from Shane for his comfort as he nodded vigorously.
Ilya could call him anything, so long as he didn’t hurt him.
“I would never try to escape if I knew better,” Shane continued to try his act on him. “I love you!”
Shane was smiling, hoping to get it all across as sincerely as possible. But that smile faded back into fear when he saw Ilya’s face shift and his jaw set.
“What did you just say?” He asked.
Shane swallowed before repeating, a bit less sure, “I love you…”
Ilya wasted no time bringing his palm-opened hand out to slap Shane across the face. He wasn’t planning to hit him. But he had no choice. The rage of those three words was too much.
“Fuck…” Shane cried, leaned over his one side, crying again.
“Don’t you ever lie about that!” Ilya’s voice was so loud and so mad that he swore it was his voice that shook his body and not just his nerves.
He fucked up. He thought it would help. But yet again, he fucked up. He could never do anything right. Ever. Even when he needed it the most.
Shane continued to cry as Ilya, still mad as ever, dragged him to the bottom of the bed, where he was, throwing her over his lap. Her bare ass up, squirming, they both knew what came next now.
It only happened one other time before, but it stuck like glue to Shane’s memory. Ilya was going to spank her, and she whined, regretting everything she’d ever done as the first smack came down and had her already in a mess.
Ilya didn’t let up, reigning down on her time and time again with no breaks, hitting all the different spots h e could get to to inflict just the right amount of pain and humiliation. It was all about submission after all, that’s what his wife was meant to be for him.
She’d done something so bad, she deserved to feel bad, too. Just as broken as Ilya was after hearing her lie about something so sacred to him. Such a naughty fucking girl.
Shane was a sobbing mess by the time Ilya thought her ass was red enough. He had no time to feel grateful it was over, though, before Ilya was rolling him off his lap and onto the floor.
What?
Where was the hugging? The rubbing on his cheeks to make it hurt less? The care that came after a punishment?
The confusion must have been clear on her face, because Ilya was explaining things to her before she could even partially pick herself off the hardwood.
“That was punishment for lying about loving me,” He explained. “Your punishment for trying to escape has just started.”
Of course, he should have known a spanking was too easy for all that he tried. He wasn’t swayed to be nicer by anything either. Just more cruel. Clearly, Ilya cared a lot about Shane not lying about being in love with him. Fine then. He’d just never hear it. Because he’d never love him for real.
Still, knowing that wasn’t his punishment didn’t tell her what her punishment really was. Not until Ilya brought the chain he usually used to chain Shane to the top of the bed by her wrist, lower. He secured Shane’s ankle to one end and the other to the bottom of the bedpost, right at floor level.
Shane was still confused and looked from where he was stuck in place to Ilya’s face.
“You don’t want to be my wife? You hate it so much that you try to tell someone else so you can escape? Fine,” Ilya’s tone was scarily neutral, and the words he said seemed untrue.
What did he mean by " fine? There was no way he thought it was fine. He’d shown as much so far. There was no way he’d let him go, never in a million years. He stole Shane. There was no going back from that, unless, of course, he was okay with going to prison. Something in Shane told him he wasn’t, though.
So then what exactly did he mean by ‘fine’?!
“I always wanted a wife and child, but if you are unable to do that for me, I will just find new use for you,” He continued, in the same simple tone. “You see, I always wanted a dog too…. I guess you can just be that.”
Shane’s eyes went wide, hearing the words but not able to fully comprehend them.
“Wh-”
“Sh,” Ilya cut him off harshly. “Dogs don’t talk. Not unless there is an emergency. Or, of course, if they come to realize they had it so much better as my wife and want to beg to have that back.”
Shane’s eyes stayed wide, looking at Ilya in horror. All Ilya did was shake his head, though, as if to tell Shane just how stupid he was. Just how good he had it. How lucky he was. And of course, if he didn’t know that yet? Ilya was sure to teach him that lesson, just like every other one he’d ever tried. As his dog.