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Dinner and a Pet (LustfulSins&Mutt)

Sinclair makes a face at the amount of dirt coming out of Duncan's hair. He works the shampoo through the long hair though. Then he pulls Duncan's hair, pulling his head back. "You are disgustingly filthy. Could you not even find a river to wash in?" The second sentence is clear sarcasm.

Sinclair works his fingers through Duncan's hair again, rinsing out the shampoo and dirty lather. As the dirt comes out, the vampire is pleasantly surprised to see the vibrant red color. "A redhead? Very pretty. I don't expect you to remain compliant. What I want is you to become loyal. I like my pets, just like any other vampire. However, unlike other vampires, I value the mental stability of my pets. Now, that's not to say I won't use force when it's necessary."
 
Duncan winced when his head was pulled backward, the motion unexpected and causing the chains to tighten. He glared at the vampire clearly unamused with his sarcasm. "I don't spend a lot of time in human skin. Wet fur doesn't smell better, either." He assumed the question to be rhetoric, but he wanted to get his own snark in. "When you spend your every day scavenging for food, you don't stop to think about your bodys' hygiene."

His next words caused the werewolf to laugh so hard he damn near choked on his own saliva. "Loyality? You must be mad! Do you think I'll be loyal to you while my family starves to death? The first chance I get I'm out of here."
 
Sinclair pauses to think a moment, then picks up a bottle of conditioner. While it doesn't create a lather like the shampoo, the vampire still works it through Duncan's vibrant hair. "And what if I provided for your family?" The question seems so odd coming from a vampire. It's not unheard of for vampires to buy loyalty by providing for the needs of a pet's family, though it is very rare. Generally, this only occurs when a vampire is truly fascinated and enraptured by a pet.

Sinclair allows his words to hang in the air as he rinses Duncan's hair again. He doesn't speak further, letting the werewolf think as he pulls the man to his feet. Sinclair sets to running a cloth lathered with body wash across Duncan's skin.
 
Duncan's nostrils flared again as he stared the vampire in the eye, "I can wash myself, you know. And if you think I'd subject my family to being walking food? You can use whatever words you want for this situation, but in the end, you only intend to keep us as a source of warm food."
 
Sinclair chuckles, tilting his head. "I'm sure you can. However, the question is whether or not I can trust you to behave if I remove the chain." The vampire runs the cloth down across Duncan's stomach, halting just above his groin.

Sinclair shakes his head, pursing his lips. "You didn't listen. I said I could provide for them. I didn't say anything about wanting them. You are the only one holding my interest." Sinclair moves his hand down, running the cloth gently along Duncan's length. Then further, across his sac and between his legs, washing every inch.
 
Turning his eyes away, he couldn't keep his eyes on the vampire any longer. He also couldn't stop his face from heating up from embarrassment and a small strain of arousal. The vampires' movements seemed clinical and almost free of any intentions, but Duncan could never tell.

Forgetting his quickly reddening face, he turned back to Sinclair with a confused expression. "What about me is so interesting? Why would you help vagabond werewolves, isn't that against some law?"
 
Sinclair smiles at the blush that spreads across Duncan's face as he turns away. He moves the cloth again, now working down the man's legs. He crouches as he goes, laughing lightly at the man's confusion. "You're interesting because you don't have an ounce of fear. I have a soft spot for werewolves, but my previous pets all feared me for the first couple of months, even though I never gave them a reason to. But you don't, and I find that fascinating."

Sinclair stands, turning Duncan to face away from him. The vampire gets more body washbon the cloth, then gathers Duncan's hair and lays it forward over the man's left shoulder, hanging it down his chest. The cloth starts to pass across his upper back. "As for your family, technically, yes, it is illegal for them to remain without a master. However, there is a loophole. I've only seen it used, but it is possible. I mark your family, and they will technically belong to me. Though I would ask nothing from them, only from you." Sinclair pauses, then corrects himself. "By mark, I mean a collar or pendant with my brand on it."
 
Duncan was quiet as he tried to process this information. He was terrified, what sane being wouldn't be? But he figured the total opposite would happen if he put up a strong front and showed no fear his capter would show no interest in a defiant wolf and discard him. He just effectively ate his own foot. "Would it change your mind if I told you I found you scary as hell?" He didn't think it would, but he thought he'd say it anyway.

He could feel his spiritual hackles raise when his back was turned towards the predator and he tried to calm himself but he couldn't stop the shiver of apprehension that went down his spine. The fact that he would be required to wear a collar was horrid but having his family wear one too? He couldn't make that choice for them on his own, he'd have to ask what they'd think. "You could still just let me go...pretend I was never here..." He had to try at least one more time.
 
Sinclair just chuckles when Duncan admits he's afraid of him. For all his tough act, the werewolf still has a healthy fear. The vampire moves the cloth down, washing Duncan's back and arms, even running the cloth over his hands and between his fingers. When Duncan speaks again, Sinclair hums lightly.

"I'm not releasing you, Duncan. You would be on my mind constantly, and I would eventually come looking for you again. A vampire on the hunt is not a safe vampire. You're staying with me." Sinclair passes the cloth over Duncan's lower back, then down across his ass. Even between his ass cheeks, before rinsing the cloth and ringing it out. He hangs it on the grip bar on the wall, then settles his hands on the werewolf's hips, sighing. "You're too skinny."
 
The answer was expected, but Duncan still couldn't help but feel defeated. He didn't want to have to resort to trickery to escape and worrying about looking over his shoulder the entire time he had to scavenge the city for food. Sighing, he stilled and let the vampire do as he will for the rest of the shower only cringing when the cloth reached his ass and in between. He was brought from his thoughts when hands settled firmly on his hips. He was slightly self-conscious about his state of appearance, but he refused to feel guilty about it, it was the vampires' fault anyway.

He could only manage a snort at his comment.
 
"Nothing a few good meals won't fix." Sinclair stands close, close enough for Duncan's fingers to brush his stomach. His lips trail the werewolf's shoulder, tongue licking water from his skin even as the shower cascades more water down on them.

Sinclair's hands start to wander. His fingers trace the lines of Duncan's torso; up and down his sides, then up his stomach and chest. His thumbs brush across the man's nipples. "Are your shoulders sore from your arms being restrained?"
 
It was laughable that the vampire thought Duncan would eat anything given to him. But his thoughts were broken when he felt lips and tongue on his shoulder, causing him to shudder, turning his head away from the vampire.

Taking a deep breath to stop any shuddering in his voice, "My shoulders and wrists are a little sore, yes." His intentions were to shift the moment he was free and make a run for it, even if he had to launch himself out of a window.
 
Sinclair just hums at Duncan's reply, reaching over to turn off the water. He then steps away, walking over to the shelf of towels to grab two. He leaves Duncan standing while he dries himself and writes out his long hair, then sets the towel over his shoulders so his damp hair can start air drying.

Sinclair returns to Duncan, drying him and wringing out the man's own long hair. Then he unclips him from the wall chain, pulling him over to the bathroom counter to stand in front of the mirror. Sinclair picks up the collar he had retrieved earlier from the bedside table. The vampire fits the collar around Duncan's throat snug, buckling it and clipping the little lock shut.

"This collar is stitched with thread imbued with wolfbane, so you won't be able to shift while wearing it." Sinclair explains the collar as he pulls a hair dryer out of a drawer. He plugs it in, setting it on the counter. "You can't cut it, the leather is charmed against blades. And if you leave the house, the perimeter will trigger the little steel plate to spring twin needles containing a powerful sedative that will knock you out for twelve hours." Sinclair smiles as he removes the chains binding Duncanc's arms, and from around his neck, dropping them on the bathroom counter. He then pick up the blow dryer and sets to drying the man's vibrant red hair.
 
Duncan remained silent and still throughout the vampire's ministrations. He could admit that there would be a chance for him to be able to shapeshift and possibly escape, the vampire wasn't that stupid and could probably see through his own eagerness. Still, it did make him internally groan when the collar was snapped tightly snug around his neck and the small sound of the lock locking seemed to bring finality to it all. He was beginning to wonder if he'd have to live the rest of his life inside of the collar or if he'd be able to remove it later, but his thoughts were interrupted rather quickly when the vampire began to speak again.

Not only would be stuck in human skin, there seemed to be little hope of escaping either. Unless he could get some kind of message out to his pack, wherever his limp body would land would remain until collected by Sinclair or any other vampires that happened by. He supposed a collar symbolized that he was "owned" by someone and would gain a little more interest than if he was an uncollared, dead-like human. The thought of never returning home or being able to live in his more natural skin was starting to set into his mind. He felt almost crushed by the realization and he felt like he would devolve into an anxiety attack.

Once free of his chains, he whirled away from the vampire, angling his body to dart out the door, sedatives be damned. He was not going to live out the remainder of his life as a human blood drink! He opened his mouth to say something but all that came out was a stuttered gasp. He took another step backward, a hand reaching to tug on the collar around his neck.
 
Sinclair sighs when Duncan leaps away. He turns off and sets down the hair dryer, then turns his body to look at Duncan. His arms fold over his chest, exasperated. "Duncan, I just said the collar prevents shifting. What are you going-"

Sinclair cuts off when Duncan gasps and pulls at the collar. Frowning, the vampire walks over to him, grabbing the ring on the front of the collar. He brushes Duncan's hand away, testing the tightness. "It's not too tight, I can get my fingers under it. Are you reacting to the metal?" Sinclair walls around Duncan, checking the skin beneath the collar around his neck. Seeing nothing, he comes back to stand in front of the man. "What's wrong?"
 
Slapping his hands away, Duncan seemed to find his voice. "No it's no the metal, nor is it too tight! You're damning me to live as a walking meal in a skin that isn't my own! I can't live as a human till the day I die, I just can't." He took another step backward, standing in the doorway, bracing himself on the frames of the door. "Take it off. Take it off!" He shouted.
 
Sinclair holds his hands up in a calming gesture, the features of his face soft. He moves slowly, like he's trying not to scare a wild animal. "Duncan, breathe. You're going to send yourself into a panic attack. Listen to me. This collar isn't permanent. When I know I can trust you to come back to me, I'll swap it for a collar without wolfbane."

When Sinclair gets close enough, he grabs Duncan and spins him around. Instead of pulling the man's arms behind his back, though, Sinclair makes him cross them in front of his chest. The vampire's arms wrap around Duncan like steel bands, immovable. His lips brush the werewolf's ear, voice gentle and calming. "Breathe, Duncan. Calm yourself."
 
Duncan couldn't understand the first things the vampire was saying, his mind was elsewhere trying to shut down due to the panic. He took another step backward away from the advancing vampire, but he didn't seem to move fast enough to avoid being grabbed and slammed into a muscular chest. The gesture soothing, calming his mind, and anchoring him back to the present. It reminded him of being with the pack, the warmth of family. He didn't bother feeling ashamed of being held by his enemy, he didn't think he could handle a full-blown panic attack. It would cause too much pain.

He couldn't stop the next words from tumbling from his lips, "I want to go home." He whispered, like a lost child.
 
Sinclair breathes a sigh of relief as Duncan calms down. Panic attacks in werewolves generally result in random shifting and attacking everything in sight. One with a wolfbane collar might end up attacking themselves because they couldn't shift. The last thing Sinclair wants is for Duncan to hurt himself. The whispered words make the vampire want to sigh again, but he bites this one back.

"I know, Duncan, but this is your home now." Sniclair presses his lips to Duncan's shoulder, kissing the naked skin there. When he's sure the man is calm, Sinclair slowly releases him, but keeps one hand around his wrist. He pulls Duncan back to the counter, standing him in front of the mirror again. He takes his own towel from around his shoulders, wrapping it around Duncan's waist to make him more comfortable. "Will you let me dry your hair now?"
 
Duncan couldn't stop the single tear that fell from his eye, the wolf's mental state starting to shatter. He wondered if he could last long enough to play the long game in earning enough trust to be free of the wolfsbane. He had heard about Stockholm Syndrome and he didn't feel like falling victim. Werewolves were family animals and he feared he'd find the comfort and solace he needed to his kidnapper.

He allowed himself to be lightly led back to the counter. When his eyes met his own in the mirror, he couldn't even recognize himself. His eyes seemed haunted, his skin very pale, and soon he'd be able to count his rib bones. He had to look away, unable to stare at himself any longer. Maybe he could use this situation to his advantage. Get his strength back, regain shifting, and incapacitate the vampire. He'd make out with as much food as possible and disappear into the woods, back to his pack.

He gave a simple nod, his eyes unfocused into the distance.
 
Sinclair bites the inside of his cheek as he picks up the hair dryer and sets to drying Duncanc's hair. The only around is that of the hair dryer. He works a brush through it as it dries. It takes a while, but eventually he gets all those thick red locks dry. Setting the dryer down, Sinclair runs his fingers through, then starts braiding it down the man's back. Once finished, he guides Duncan to sit on the counter so he can do his own still damp white hair.

Several minutes later, Sinclair takes hold of Duncan's wrist, tugging him along back to the bedroom. "Let's find you so pants and a shirt, shall we?" He takes Duncan to his dresser, leaving the man standing beside it while he locates a pair of soft cotton pants and a plain tee. Passing them to Duncan, Sinclair finds another pair of cotton pants for himself, choosing to forego the shirt. "Don't need help dressing, do you, Duncan?" There's a teasing tone in the vampire's voice, and a smile at the corners of his lips.
 
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Duncan remained quiet as he stared off into space and let the vampire dry his hair and brush it out. The sound and feeling were soothing and he allowed himself to be lulled into a half-sleep, allowing himself to be maneuvered to however the vampire pleased.

He was awoken from his doze by a light tug of his wrist, once again permitting himself to be moved. He watched idly as the vampire dug through his dresser for clothes, though Duncan was unsure if any of the garments would fit his skinny frame but didn't bother to voice his opinions, the sooner he could stop being naked would be good enough for him. Duncan only snorted at the teasing remark, taking the clothes and putting them on, feeling more like a person. Glancing around the bedroom, he suddenly felt more exhausted than he had in the past few months. "Where can I sleep?" He quietly asked, his eyes settling back on Sinclair.
 
Sinclair keeps his eyes on Duncan as he dresses, mostly making sure the man won't pass out from exhaustion. When Duncan looks around and asks where he's sleeping, Sinclair gives him an amused look. "I'm not going to make you sleep on the floor, Duncan." Sinclair holds out his hand, waiting for Duncan to take it. When he does, the vampire pulls him toward the bed. "Besides, in your current state, you would freeze on the floor. I won't do anything tonight, I can see your exhaustion. Also, you may be just my type, but you're far too skinny."

Once Duncan is in bed, Sinclair stretches out beside him. He stays on top of the blankets to make Duncan more comfortable, but he is fairly close. "Go to sleep. Tomorrow, we will work on getting you back to a normal diet schedule. Your stomach is likely shrunken due to lack of proper meals." Sinclair closes his eyes. Vampires don't really sleep, it's more of a resting phase. Still fully aware of their surroundings, but able to easily block out unwanted stimuli. With their lack of needing to breath, this often makes it seem like they are truly dead once more.
 
A grimace formed on his face as the vampire confirmed more of his fears. He was hoping that he'd get his own room or some nice plush pillow on the ground and not have to share the bed with his captor. He contemplated scorning his hand and slapping it away, but in the end, exhaustion was heavy on his mind and he just wanted to go to sleep. He allowed himself to be gently dragged to the bed. He wasn't happy at all to being considered "his type", he wanted to be a big turn-off and not be forced to stay here longer than necessary. With a sigh he climbed into the bed, happy at least it was comfortable.

He scooted as far away from Sinclair as possible, thankful cuddling didn't seem to be an option. He stayed awake a few minutes longer, a little intrigued and slightly scared of how the vampire...slept? Duncan wasn't sure if vampires slept, he never saw one that wasn't actively moving. The fact that they were so unnaturally still made him uncomfortable and eventually, he turned away before finally succumbing to slumber.
 
Come morning, Sinclair is awake long before Duncan. He had risen with the dawn, dressing for the day in black jeans and a loose, pale blue shirt with an open front, beneath which is a black muscle tee. He had also laid an outfit for Duncan on the end of the bed for when he woke; a pair of soft black cotton pants with a drawstring so Duncan can tighten the waistband, and a thin red silk shirt with loose sleeves, but cinched wrist cuffs. A note had been taped to the bedroom door: Come down to the kitchen for breakfast.

Downstairs, Sinclair is aware the moment Duncan stirs. He can hear the wolf's heartbeat even from down hear, and it changes as the man wakes. So he sets to making a healthy breakfast for Duncan, ready when the man makes his way to the kitchen. A small bowl of fresh fruit, two eggs, two slices of toast, and a handful of breakfast sausages. There's another small bowl with a tablet and two gummy candies in it, next to a glass of orange juice. The tablet and gummies are vitamins, and Sinclair had opted to leave the bottle they came from in view on the counter where Duncan could see them.
 
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