He hurt Benji. Even before Miles pulls out his knife, Kurt's stomach sinks, a cold shudder going through their body as they realize what he's implying. Sweet Benji, so young and obedient and trusting, was once under the thumb of this cruel man just like Kurt is now. Left him with scars that, even now, Corrigan is careful never to touch for fear of what it might trigger. Tears spill down their face as they picture Benji in their mind, the fear and confusion he must have felt while being groomed by this rotten man. Desperate to fit in, to be a good mate for the pack, he would've let Miles do anything to him if it meant he'd be accepted. Miles' cruelty is horrific. Sickening. Utterly abhorrent.
They're supposed to bring a child into the care of this man?
The knife makes them freeze up, eyes wide with terror, breath coming short and fast through their nose even as Miles' cock throbs against their tongue. Thankfully, the blade doesn't get close to their neck. Just their hair. Their thick, lovely, gorgeous hair that they spent so many years growing, so they'd look the way they felt on the inside. Their hair that they fought their father every day to keep, threats of retaliation be damned. Their hair that the pack would lovingly brush and groom and braid, weaving mayflowers through the strands, a fitting crown for their treasured mate. Miles coldly and callously saws through it like it means nothing.
Of course, it doesn't mean anything to him. Nothing does. Nothing except being in complete control. Kurt is shaking, sobbing around his cock as he mutilates their hair, just as he's threatening to have some stranger take a knife to their belly. Cut them open. Rip their baby out of them. They can't take it anymore. Ashamed and hurting and frightened out of their mind, Kurt pushes away from him as soon as the last chunk of hair is severed, the remnants of their pride and femininity clutched in Miles' sadistic hand while they crumble to the floor. Choppy and uneven locks fall limply around their face, barely long enough to skirt their jaw. "Please," they weep, arms protectively going around their stomach. "Alpha, p-please, please don't, Alpha, don't c-cut them out, th-there's no need to—"
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Date: 2023-12-03 12:08 am (UTC)They're supposed to bring a child into the care of this man?
The knife makes them freeze up, eyes wide with terror, breath coming short and fast through their nose even as Miles' cock throbs against their tongue. Thankfully, the blade doesn't get close to their neck. Just their hair. Their thick, lovely, gorgeous hair that they spent so many years growing, so they'd look the way they felt on the inside. Their hair that they fought their father every day to keep, threats of retaliation be damned. Their hair that the pack would lovingly brush and groom and braid, weaving mayflowers through the strands, a fitting crown for their treasured mate. Miles coldly and callously saws through it like it means nothing.
Of course, it doesn't mean anything to him. Nothing does. Nothing except being in complete control. Kurt is shaking, sobbing around his cock as he mutilates their hair, just as he's threatening to have some stranger take a knife to their belly. Cut them open. Rip their baby out of them. They can't take it anymore. Ashamed and hurting and frightened out of their mind, Kurt pushes away from him as soon as the last chunk of hair is severed, the remnants of their pride and femininity clutched in Miles' sadistic hand while they crumble to the floor. Choppy and uneven locks fall limply around their face, barely long enough to skirt their jaw. "Please," they weep, arms protectively going around their stomach. "Alpha, p-please, please don't, Alpha, don't c-cut them out, th-there's no need to—"