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Agliophobia

Chapter Text

Sans was uncomfortably familiar with what it felt like to want to die. Every day, the thought of death welcomed him in the morning like an old friend. It followed behind him, more tangible than even his own shadow. It comforted him in those moments when his measly one HP was teetering at 0.1 after a particularly brutal beating. And yet, at the thought of actually doing it - he felt waves of dizziness and his breathing picked up whenever he gazed too long at a knife and wondered what it would be like to plunge the sharpened blade straight through his soul - he froze up. He was afraid.

He should be used to it by now, right? He should be used to that sick sense of dread at all the things, all the monsters, that could make him feel agony to the very centre of his being. He wasn't. He should be, but he wasn't. He should have desensitized himself from the feeling of Boss's heeled boots coming down on his bones hard enough to break them clean through. Should be desensitized to the awful beatings he got whenever he made a stupid mistake like the weak little fuck up he was, should be desensitized to the gnawing ache that gripped him when he was locked in the cold shed for a week, with no food, no clothes, no escape. He wasn't.

They'd all heard the horror stories. Monsters that had their limbs shorn through far enough that they began to dust, before they could get a healer. They said it hurt worse than falling down. The monsters would scream until their vocal chords gave out, sob and cry and beg for death as the magic making up their body was torn, ripped to shreds, nerve endings firing off frantically, not able to shut off. It lasted hours, if the limb was still attached a bit. Most of the time, when that started happening, the monster's limb would be amputated before it had a chance to get that bad. Criminals would torture people using this method, finding ways to make the pain last longer, starting with a single finger perhaps, letting it dust entirely before moving to the next.

Sans couldn't help but wonder, if it hurt that much to have just a single part of you dust, what did it feel like when your entire being crumbled away in death? He didn't want to find out.

The thing is, the thought of being in pain made Sans want to vomit. It made him go into panic mode in an instant. It made him shut down, made his mind a blank slate but for the awful static that told him he had to get away, had to run, had to escape. He froze up when he was scared.

So in this world of kill or be killed, Sans, the useless, weak little monster with only one quivering HOPE that could dust from a gentle breeze and was only alive because of his brother, in this world, Sans was terrified by the thought of being in pain. And yet he wanted to die. Great. Of fucking course.

Banishing the sharpened bone attack that he had held in his shaking hands, Sans tried to keep breathing. Not today, then. He had so hoped he'd have been able to off himself today. A little trickle of marrow weeped from the shallow wound in the centre of his ribcage. A stinging sensation alerted Sans's brain to the damage. He paled, gripping the edge of his sentry station in an attempt to not freak out. It wasn't working, pinkish-red beads of sweat dripping down his skull. He must have been pressing on that bone too hard. Or maybe his attack was just sharper than he thought it was. He needed a drink. It was almost the end of his shift for the day, so he could go to Grillby's and get some mustard to take his mind off things. Yeah. Yeah, and maybe after a few bottles he wouldn't be such a coward that he couldn't even do everyone a favour and dust himself. If he did that, he wouldn't even have to face Boss's anger when he found out he'd been drinking again. With that grim thought, he began trudging towards Snowdin.

Chapter Text

"SANS!" Boss's voice carried, loud and sharp across the bar. Sans flinched. He was only three bottles deep - nowhere near drunk enough to stop caring if his Boss was here.

"GET OVER HERE, MUTT." Sans didn't want to go anywhere near Boss. He was sober enough to recognise his anger. Anger means pain. He was already sweating, his body trembling ever so slightly. He slipped off the barstool, clutching his half-full bottle of mustard protectively. The bar has gone silent. Although it was commonplace for Papyrus to come and collect his brother, the line of his mouth downturned in fury, everyone was afraid enough or respectful enough of the violent Royal Guardsmen to stay quiet throughout these encounters. After all, he was known to have dusted monsters in unwarranted fits of rage. It was far smarter for the other monsters to mind their own businesses, rather than help the tiny skeleton trembling in undisguised terror at having evoked his younger brother's ire. It was downright impressive he hadn't dusted Sans yet, with him just having one HP.

The sharp tapping of Boss's impatient foot finally caused Sans to move forwards. He kept his eyes fixed on the ground, his shoulders hunched, braced for the fast impact of a hard hand knocking him to the ground. It didn't come, this time. He kept himself tense and curled in on himself just in case.

"LET ME SEE YOUR COLLAR." Boss ordered. There was no room for argument in that tone. Sans tilted his head up reluctantly, exposing his neck and the thick leather collar with its sharp spikes and smart nameplate declaring him as 'PROPERTY OF PAPYRUS, CAPTAIN OF THE ROYAL GUARD'. The block capitals were engraved in the bronze metal, inscribed in his Boss's namesake. Boss grabbed the collar, turning it until he could reach the thick D-ring and clip on the matching leash that he tightly grasped in his hand. Sans, used to the humiliation of being treated like a dog, didn't react, aside from flinching when Boss reached for his collar. That is, until

"GET ON YOUR HANDS AND KNEES." ...What? He- he wouldn't be that cruel, right? He wouldn't make Sans crawl after him through the freezing snow, right? He wouldn't humiliate him that much, right? Sans was shocked enough to flick his eyes up to Boss's face, hoping to find some hint of humour there. He was dead serious. He always was.

"B- Boss, I-"

"ARE YOU OBJECTING TO A DIRECT ORDER, SANS?" Sans flinched, stars no, he didn't mean to, really he didn't, his tongue just-

"N- no Boss! No, I- I- I would never! Just- it's cold-" He was slapped to the ground before he had a chance to finish. His collar choked him, tightening as it was attached to the leash still in Boss's hand. A steel-capped boot rammed into his midsection before his vision even stopped swimming. The remainder of his breath quickly vacated his lungs - and wasn't it so unfair that skeletons even needed to breathe, he didn't even have lungs-

He couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe, why couldn't he breathe? Oh god, oh god, it hurt, his ribs hurt, ithurtithurtithurtithurtithurt, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't think, it hurt so bad and he wanted it over, he wanted this gone. Please, please let him die. His one HP remained disappointingly intact.

•••

"Papyrus, must I remind you that there is to be strictly no fighting in my establishment?" Grillby's voice cut smoothly into the tense silence that had settled once Papyrus had hit Sans. The only noise was the smaller skeleton struggling to breathe, and Grillby doubted it was just the collar that was making Sans hyperventilate. He was panicking.

"MY APOLOGIES, GRILLBY. I'M SURE YOU UNDERSTAND, I HAD TO TEACH MY DISOBEDIENT DOG A LESSON." Grillby watched carefully as some of the other monsters looked away. It wasn't uncommon for stronger monsters to offer weaker ones sanctuary in the form of becoming a pet, but very few were quite as abusive and degrading as Papyrus. Sans would probably be better off alone, than as Papyrus's 'dog'. But everybody knew the Captain was overly possessive of things that belonged to him.

"Naturally. Your dog looks like he's getting pretty anxious. Perhaps you should give him a little more slack?" Grillby replied calmly, despite his element of fire and the personality associated with it. He chose his words carefully; he could easily deflect if Papyrus was angered by his words.

"DON'T ASSUME TO TELL ME HOW TO TREAT MY PET!" He snarled. Honestly, Papyrus was more comparable to a dog than Sans.

"Of course not. I simply mean to say you're choking him; he looks like he might pass out." Grillby turned away to put some glasses he'd been cleaning on a shelf, earning a collective gasp from every other monster there. Nobody turned their back on Papyrus when he had his eyes on them. Grillby was pretty confident he could hold his own.

"RIGHT." Papyrus didn't sound at all convinced, but he let it slide. Being the owner of the most successful business in Snowdin had its perks. Papyrus kicked Sans in the arm, glaring at him like it would suddenly make him listen.

"SANS, WE'RE LEAVING. STOP WHINING AND FOLLOW ME." Sans was quite obviously in the middle of a panic attack at this point, but Papyrus either didn't notice, or didn't care. Most likely the latter. Instead of, you know, doing what any semi-decent monster would and just carrying him home, or at least letting him walk upright, Papyrus kicked him in the ribs. Again. Sans started sobbing then, his legs pulled all the way up to shield him from future kicks to the ribs, his arms cradling his head protectively. Grillby thought he heard him begging for mercy. Papyrus had never once been merciful to Sans, the fire monster didn't think, and he was unlikely to start now.

"IF YOU WON'T CRAWL, I'M GOING TO DRAG YOU." Papyrus stated, matter-of-factly. Sans didn't move, most likely too out of it to really understand what he wanted. Papyrus started to walk, pulling Sans along by the leash behind him. Sans choked again, struggling to try and breathe, before finally getting up onto all fours, sobbing as he unsteadily crawled after his brother. The door slammed behind them.

There was a beat of silence before anyone spoke again. When they did, it was a mixture of cruelty and relief, and even a little sympathy.

"Dude, I'd almost feel sorry for that guy if I wasn't so damn grateful that's not me."

"Did you see how he just fucking broke down, in front of everyone? Seriously, he's so weak, I don't know why Papyrus bothers keeping him."

"Hey Grillbz, I can't believe that you actually stood up to Papyrus like that! It was passive aggressive, but shit, you turned your back on him! That takes either incredible confidence or stupidity, and you're not stupid."

After the bar closed, Grillby found a half-empty bottle of mustard, laying abandoned where Sans had been kicked to the floor.

Chapter Text

By time they reached Boss's house, Sans was shivering enough that his bones were rattling violently. His hands and knees hurt from the biting cold, his face stained by dried red tears. As soon as they were through the door, he was kicked across the room. Rather than trying to right himself, he just kneeled, tipping forwards until his head hit the floor, protecting his skull with his arms. Weak sobs shook his already trembling body.

None of that would protect him when Boss grabbed his soul in the iron grip of his magic, flinging his body against the wall. The plaster cracked, Sans trying to catch his breath from where he was still suspended in the air, pressed against the dented wall. A crimson leather glove that did nothing to hide the sharp claws sheathed inside smashed into the wall beside his head. Sans yelped at the sound, trying to flinch away despite being held firmly in place. He was so fucking terrified. Boss growled, eyes narrowing. Sans gulped nervously.

"Not only have you been drinking again, going against my direct orders," Boss hissed, not speaking in his usual loud tones. This was a voice reserved for Sans. "but you then questioned another of my orders, in front of an entire crowd. I don't want people thinking I can't even control my fucking dog!" The last words were punctuated by him drawing back his fist to punch the wall, inches from Sans's skull this time.

"...I- I'm sorry Boss. It won't- it won't happen again." Sans spoke quietly, not wanting to enrage Boss more if he could avoid it.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Sans flinched, tremors overtaking his body as his eyelights shrunk to pinpricks and he tried not to panic. He tried. "DID I TELL YOU YOU COULD SPEAK, MUTT?" Sans wined low in the back of his throat, tears once again streaming down his face. The next thing he knew he was off the wall and being lifted up the stairs by his collar. He choked, scrabbling desperately at his neck to try and breathe. There was a crash as a door was slammed open, and he was flung onto the floor again. Boss's bedroom. Oh god.

"Boss, please-" Sans's throat constricted, his words trailing off with a high noise like a dying animal. He was shaking, from the deep cold after crawling through the snow, from adrenaline after being thrown across two rooms, but mostly from mind-numbing terror, the inescapable, sickening kind.

"Needy bitch." Boss growled. He knew what Sans had meant, of course he did, but as always, he twisted his words to fit his needs. Sans felt like he was going to throw up. "Get on the bed." That was an order. Sans couldn't disobey orders. He wanted to - stars he wanted to - but it would only make everything worse. Sobbing, he crawled to the bed, too exhausted and dizzy to even attempt standing up.

He got into the position Boss liked the best, kneeling on the bed with his arse in the air, his head and shoulders lowered to rest on the mattress and his arms behind his back ready to be held or tied. He hated this, was so disgusted by himself for complying with Boss's sick desires, but it hurt so much less when he just let him do it.

The bed dipped as Boss climbed up behind him. Sans couldn't see his face, but he was probably grinning in that possessive way that never failed to make his metaphorical skin crawl. He pulled down Sans's shorts and underwear, cold hands assaulting his pelvis with rough strokes. Sans shivered, the feeling of overwhelming wrongness begging him to do something, anything, to stop this. He just obediently formed a pussy in Boss's hand. There was no point in fighting this.

Boss grabbed his hands, leaning over him as he lined up his dick to enter Sans. He caged Sans with his own body, one arm snaking around his chest and hugging him against Boss. He shoved into Sans hard, the smaller skeleton gasping in pain from being entered unprepared. Not giving Sans any time to adjust, Boss set a brutal pace, snapping his hips into Sans savagely. Sans just tried his hardest to relax, knowing it only hurt more if he tensed up. It was impossible to relax, though, when Boss fucked him so hard that his entire body jolted with every forward thrust.

By the time Boss finally came, Sans was shaking twice as much as before. Boss pulled out, Sans wincing as his abused hole throbbed in protest.

"Stay." Boss ordered, walking over to a drawer somewhere out of Sans's field of vision. Sans trembled as he forced his tired bones to stay in that position when all he wanted to do was collapse. He jerked when a hard, cold object was pushed into his vagina roughly. He whimpered softly, wanting to beg boss to take it out, take it out, oh god, please take it out, please please pleasepleaseplease-

"Get up, and strip." Sans was confused. If Boss had wanted Sans naked, wouldn't he have told him to do this before? There was no point to questioning Boss. It would only earn him more pain. He stood up shakily, pulling off his jacket and sweater, stepping out of his shoes and kicking off his shorts and boxers. He was naked but for the heavy collar weighing on his neck, still attached to the thick leather leash. He wrapped his arms around himself, hoping to keep out some of the biting cold already attacking his bones. It was no use.

"Come." Boss commanded, walking out of the door and down the stairs. Sans followed hurriedly, every step making the toy inside him shift, reminding him uncomfortably that it was still there. Boss waited impatiently for him by the front door, tapping his foot against the floor in a way that made Sans walk faster, not wanting to know what would happen if he took too long. Once he reached Boss's side, the leash he wore was grabbed, Boss putting his hand through the loop at the end.

"On your hands and knees." Sans's eyes widened. He'd had his suspicions when Boss lead him to the door, but to think he would really be forced to crawl through the snow, naked, with his vagina and the toy inside very clearly visible - he felt his entire being fill up with shame even as he dropped to the floor, knowing that if he disobeyed here, there was no one to save him from Boss's wrath. Boss opened the door, dragging Sans out into the snow. He was shivering instantly, his bones rattling softly as he forced himself to move, one arm forward, then the leg opposite, come on, don't fall over, he'll keep going and you'll choke.

Somehow, Sans managed to make it all the way to - where were they? Looking up, he recognised the barren walls of the shed. He felt a whole new wave of terror wash over him.

"B- Boss, ple- please, p- please don't l- leave me here, please, i- it's so cold, I c- can't-"

"Slience." Boss growled, tugging Sans further into the room. He took him over to where there were four big metal rings built into the floor. Sturdy ropes were attached to each of them, and extra rope was laid to the side. Grabbing some of the extra rope, Boss tied Sans's forearms to his shoulders, making him rest uncomfortably on his elbows. Then, he bound his thighs to his calves, effectively removing his use of his arms and legs. Sans was sobbing and pleading through it all, begging Boss to have mercy, to tie him up in the house instead, to not leave him out here in the cold, dark shed.

Boss got out some sort of wire, with a sticky pad attached to one end. Sans jerked away, begging even more frantically for Boss to stop as he reached into Sans's ribcage and grabbed his soul. Sans struggled in his bounds, trying to get out because Boss was touching his soul, and he had always left his soul alone and what was he going to do to him? He groaned in paralyzing dread as he attached the pad at the end of the wire to his soul. Placing it back inside his chest, Boss then attached to wire to a socket in the toy he had put inside Sans. Appearing satisfied, he attached each of Sans's four limbs to the rings in the floor by the elbows and knees, and gagged him with more rope. Then he tied a thick cloth around Sans's eyes.

Sans couldn't move, couldn't see, couldn't call out for help. He was utterly at Boss's mercy. There was a soft beep from a few feet away. Sans stilled, holding his breath. Nothing happened for a few seconds. Then the toy in his pussy started to move, vibrating all the while. He yelped, the sound muffled by the rope in his mouth, and then he started screaming for help. Barely any sound escaped the gag. A dark chuckle from across the room made him stop screaming, to simply whimper in mounting panic.

"There's no use in crying out, Sans." Boss said, sounding pleased. "No one is going to hear you. Besides, even if they could, who would help you? Who would be stupid enough to take my property from me?" Sans felt tears gather in his sockets. Boss was right. Of course he was.

"Do you want to know what that device I put on you is?" Sans stilled, listening. "It's a toy that takes magic directly from the user's soul and uses it to power it. It's your own magic that's making it fuck you, Sans." Sans whined, shaking his head in disbelief. It couldn't take his magic. Why was his magic letting it do this?

"Another thing. If you start to fall asleep, it'll shock your soul to keep you awake." Sans cried out as best he could at that, terrified for if he began to get tired. How long was Boss going to leave him here? The door slammed, and Sans was left alone with the terrible, terribly pleasurable device pounding into him. He flinched at every minute sound, hyperventilating just at the thought that he was so utterly helpless. Any monster could come and do anything to him here, and he couldn't stop them. He couldn't even teleport - Boss has installed magic suppressors to prevent that particular ability. He sobbed as the toy made a wonderful heat curl in his magic, hating that his body was reacting to this when he would much rather be left here with just his horrible thoughts, than have to endure this. Even so, he felt his climax building, as much as he thrashed, desperate to get out if only to stop this awful feeling.

When he came, it was through panicked tears and muffled cries for mercy.

Chapter Text

When Boss finally returned for him, Sans was shaking violently in his bonds. Having been tied through the entire night and well into the morning, with no chance of rest, he felt as if his soul was on fire. The constant pull in his magic from the device attached to him and the strain of maintaining the ecto-flesh that would usually be summoned for only a few hours at most was taking its toll. He flinched at the sound of the door opening, sobbing in relief when the cloth over his eye sockets and the gag between his teeth were removed.

"B- Boss, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, i- it won't h- ha- happen again, sorry, please have mercy, it h- hurts. Sans babbled as soon as he was able to talk.

"Shut up." Boss ordered, unattaching the wire connected to his soul. The toy in Sans's pussy finally, blissfully, stopped moving. Boss positioned his hand to pull it out. "If you dispel your magic before I tell you to, there will be consequences." Boss promised. Then he viciously yanked out the dildo, not caring for the way Sans's overly sensitive flesh screamed in pain from the harsh action.

Then Sans was being filled again, Boss roughly fucking him even as he begged over and over again for mercy. It felt like forever before cum spurted wetly into Sans, joining what Boss had left inside him last night. Boss pulled out, but rather than let Sans banish his summoned cunt, he filled it with her another object. Sans's begging because more frantic, panicked, even, as Boss plugged his vagina, squeezing a pump to inflate the plug until it was too large to be pulled back out even if Sans tried. Unscrewing the pump, Boss put something over the top of the plug and the hollow tube he inflated it through. It was only when Sans heard a loud metallic click that he realised what it was. It was a chastity belt. Boss put a fucking chastity belt on him and now it was impossible for him to remove the plug. He whimpered helplessly, the feeling of Boss's cum and the inflated plug filling him making him feel sick. He couldn't escape from it, couldn't get rid of it, couldn't dispel the disgusting flesh that he'd grown to hate because the object inside him stopped him. He noticed absently that Boss was untying the ropes that bolted him to the floor.

"Come on, mutt." Boss purred, sounding pleased for once. He had picked up the leash that he'd never bothered to detach from Sans, and was pulling slightly, waiting for Sans to start moving. Sans tried to crawl, not bothering to ask if he could possibly have the ropes still tying his legs and arms removed. It would only make for more pain.

Every shaking step made his elbows and knees hurt. The movement made him all too aware of the things inside him, rubbing on his sensitive walls. Worse than that was the overwhelming shame he felt as Boss lead him outside, back through the snow. It looked around midday, and although there were thankfully no monsters about, he felt so exposed, bound and collared as he was, naked and crawling through the snow with his translucent ecto-flesh on full display. He blushed a deep red, tears collecting in his sockets, embarrassment making his bones feel flushed. He hated this so much.

When they finally reached the house, Sans was incredibly grateful for the privacy provided. He kneeled uncomfortably, glancing at Boss warily, afraid to ask when he'd be untied again.

"GO TO YOUR ROOM." Boss ordered, in the process of taking off his boots.

"B- Boss..?" Sans whined out his title, unsure of how he was supposed to go anywhere tied up like this.

"DID I FUCKING STUTTER? OR ARE YOU JUST GOING TO DISOBEY ME WITHIN MY OWN HOUSE, TOO?"

"S- Sorry, Boss." He should have known better than to question Boss, again. Sans started crawling towards the stairs, going as fast as he possibly could, considering. The carpet helped him grip, but the wooden stairs were smooth, making his elbows and knees slide as he tried to climb up them.

"I'm going to Undyne's in half an hour. I expect you to stay in your room until I return." Boss called from the bathroom.

"Yes Boss!" Sans replied, only a quarter of the way up the stairs. He had figured out how to stop himself slipping too much, wedging his elbows into the corners of the stairs and spreading his knees to the edges, climbing both arms first, followed by the legs. The only problem was that his height meant he had to stretch quite far for every step.

When he finally reached the landing, Boss had already left. Sans stopped moving for a moment, resting his sore limbs as much as he could by laying down in a starfish kind of shape. His joints stung from friction burns after crawling on them, and he felt stiff from being bound for so long. There was nothing he could do about it. He just had to wait till Boss got back, and then beg as best he could for some form of mercy.

Finally moving again, he reached his door. Going up onto his knees, he strained to reach the handle. He couldn't reach. He wasn't tall enough. Oh god, nonononono, he had to reach, Boss would kill him if he was still out here when he got back. He tried to get himself just a little bit higher. His elbow brushed the underside of the handle, but he couldn't open the door. He couldn't even use magic, so drained from being forced to use it for the entire night. He whined helplessly, trying a few more times as his breathing picked up more and more with each failed attempt. Frantic now, he started crying in frustration and fear. He was getting tired, he'd tried for so long. Finally, shivering with tremors of anticipation of the beating he was bound to get for failing to follow such a simple instruction, he gave up. Curling in on himself, he lay on his side in front of his door. He felt sickening dread at how much pain Boss would put him in when he got back. That thought was all it took for him to fall into a full blown panic attack. He gasped for air, staying there, laying on the floor outside his room just like the dog he was, for what seemed like forever. It could have been hours before Boss finally came back.

•••

The loud bang or the door shutting made Sans flinch. It made him whine and curl into as small of a ball as he could, trying to cover his head with his arms. He whispered out apologies even as he heard Boss's sharp footsteps on the stairs.

"Sans. What the fuck are you doing?" It was a question, but Boss said it in a way that indicted he didn't expect Sans was able to provide a suitable answer. He sounded so disappointed. It made Sans cringe, knowing that he was such a disappointment that Boss didn't bother putting in the effort to get mad.

"I- I couldn't reach the door. I'm sorry, I, I r- really tried, I swear." Sans spoke quietly, almost a whisper to begin with. Boss just sighed.

"You're hopeless, Sans. You're just so fucking worthless, it's not even funny." Boss spoke in such a cold, detached way, like he expected this, like he predicted that Sans would fail somehow. His words hurt. He didn't say them like an opinion, he said them as fact. Sans took them as gospel.

Boss unclipped the leash from Sans's collar, looping it through one of the rails that ran along the balcony. He clipped it back onto the collar, tying Sans up just like a dog.

"Stay." Boss said, walking away from Sans and towards his room. It was a redundant command. Sans couldn't go anywhere. Where would he even go? Where the fuck could he even go?

Laying down, Sans tried to finally get some sleep. His mind was wide awake.

Chapter Text

Boss had Sans crawl whenever he was in the house, after he did it the first time, through the snow, back home from Grillby's. It had been a week since then. Although his arms and legs had - thankfully - been untied, the chastity belt remained firmly in place, along with the plug. Boss loved to take it out just to fill him up with more cum, until a visible bump had started to form, making Sans cringe in humiliation whenever he saw it. He was exhausted from being forced to keep his ecto-flesh formed for so long. He could barely get up in the morning anymore, even when Boss threatened to beat him into the ground. His senses were duller, his magic unable to keep any of them sharp.

He wasn't allowed to wear clothes in the house. Once he was inside, he was expected to crawl up to his bedroom and strip, leaving him entirely exposed, only the weight of his collar and the disgusting belt remaining. It was humiliating, crawling around like that, struggling to even get down the stairs and then not even allowed to sit on the furniture downstairs unless Boss told him to. And then it was only if Boss wanted to fuck him. Sans hated every second of it. Even worse, Boss got off to it. He actually got off to seeing Sans forced to crawl like a dog in the house, would randomly grab him and fuck him whenever he felt like it. That was one of the worst parts. Never knowing when he'd be brutally taken by Boss.

The only small reprise he got was when he went outside. He was allowed to walk and wear clothes outside, but Sans was pretty sure that was just because Boss knew how likely Sans was to get dusted if he made him do that. Even then, Boss left the belt and the plug inside Sans on him at all times. There was no chance of escaping it. He had begged on his knees for hours, but Boss just cruelly smirked and told him maybe he'd think twice before going somewhere without his permission, next time. Sans hadn't dared return to Grillby's after what had happened. That is, until now.

He hadn't eaten all week, and the combination of the prolonged magic use and hunger was making his magic systems start to fail. He could barely hear, and he'd lost all sense of smell days ago. His eyes were beginning to become affected, and that's what finally did it. He couldn't go back to Boss's house like this. He could barely see, and how was he supposed to survive when his eyes finally stopped working completely? He couldn't, wouldn't be able to do it.

He made sure to set off for Snowdin so that when he arrived Grillby's would have been shut for a few minutes. He wasn't stupid - he knew if the patrons at the bar saw how weak he was he'd be dusted in an instant. Grillby he considered to be his friend. He didn't think Grillby would take advantage of how exhausted he was, but he'd misjudged people before. Hopefully he didn't this time.

•••

"G- Grillby-" Sans choked out, swaying in the doorway of the empty bar. He felt his legs give way, and then he was falling, landing hard on his knees and trying to hold his upper body up with his arms.

"Sans! Are you okay?" A hand grabbed Sans's shoulder, and he flinched, in the verge of a panic attack as the true gravity of how weak he was finally set in. He wasn't even able to stand anymore. Oh god, why did he come here? Why did he put himself in this situation? Grillby could do anything to Sans right now, and he was too weak to even attempt to resist. He was trembling all over, gasping and hoping that Grillby was as good of a friend as Sans had always thought.

"Please- I- I can't go back to Boss's house, n- not yet. Please, I'll do anything- wh- whatever you want-"

"Shh, it's okay, Sans. You can stay here. And you don't have to do anything, you're obviously magically exhausted."

"Thank you, t- th- thank you, Grillbz, thank you s- so much." Sans stuttered out the words, raising himself up until he was kneeling in front of Grillby. He reached out to the front of his friends trousers before he could think about it too much.

•••

Grillby pushed away from Sans in horror. Had he just tried to- what the fuck did Papyrus do to make him like this? This wasn't the same monster he had known when he first met him. He remembered Sans as a tough, overprotective and suspicious monster who somehow survived despite his low stats, and loved his brother beyond all else, despite denying it to hide his weakness. Now- now, he was unrecognizable. Kneeling submissively on the floor, begging to be allowed to stay, begging that Grillby not force him to return to the one place that he should be safe, shaking all over from exhaustion and anxiety, fear readable in his every feature. By all rights, he should be dead by now. He was so utterly broken, if his collar belonged to anyone else, he would be. He was nothing more than free LV.

"Grillby? I- I'm sorry, p- ple- please don't make me go home." Sans looked downright terrified. Grillby suddenly realised that he'd gone entirely silent for a moment.

"Don't do that, Sans. You can stay, just don't fucking do that." Grillby finally closed the door, which had been left open after Sans collapsed. He locked it, making sure no one could come in while Sans was this vulnerable.

"But Boss says-" Sans cut himself off, looking at the floor intensely.

"Says what? What does he say, Sans?" Grillby pressed, wanting to know exactly what that sick fuck had done.

"Boss says I have to thank people when they give me things." He almost whispered, but Grillby heard every word.

"And by thanking them, I'm guessing he means sucking them off?" Grillby asked, but he already knew the answer. "What the fuck." He  swore, getting increasingly pissed off at how Sans was being treated. "I didn't even give you anything."

"You gave me shelter." Sans muttered, almost as if he was supposed to know what counted as being given things. He probably was.

"Whatever. I don't want you to thank me. What other rules does Papyrus make you follow?" There was no doubt in Grillby's mind that these were rules.

"I'm not allowed to be here." Sans said, looking down at his hands, and still shivering, although Grillby didn't know if it was from exhaustion or fear.

"So that's why you haven't been here the last week?" Sans nodded, a guilty look crossing his face. "That's fine, Sans. What other rules does he have?"

"I'm not allowed to stand up in the house. Or go on the furniture without permission." He whispered, sounding resigned, like he'd just accepted it, like it was normal to him. That made Grillby's blood boil.

"And I'm not allowed to resist Boss, or disobey when he tells me to do something. And I'm not allowed to wear clothes in the house. And I'm not allowed to eat without permission." Sans blurted out. His face was a burning red colour. He looked so ashamed of himself, because of what Papyrus did. Grillby felt his flames rise higher, crackling furiously. The usual bright purple colour cooled to icy blue as a resolute, simmering rage set in. As he calmed down a little, he noticed Sans, shielding his face with his arms, his legs tucked to his chest.

"Shit. Sans, I'm sorry, I'm not mad at you." Grillby crouched down, so that he wasn't towering over the already tiny skeleton curled up on the floor. "Here, how about we go behind the bar, into my house, ok?" A few seconds passed, and Sans, finally realising Grillby wanted an answer, nodded stiffly. "Ok, I'm going to pick you up, ok?" Another nod, and Grillby lifted Sans's far too light body up into his arms, holding him against his chest. He could feel every minute tremor that ran through the petite monster's body.

He walked through the door to his house. As he put Sans down on a chair in his living room, his hand brushed something cold and hard at Sans's hips. The skeleton froze up. "Sans, what is that?" Grillby asked, his voice almost shaking, because he was nearly afraid of what else Sans's twisted brother might have done. Afraid that he might have done what Grillby suspected. Sans sat entirely still, his eye sockets dark, lifeless, terrified, empty pits.

Chapter Text

Grillby was as a storm as he thundered up to Papyrus's door. His flames were a violent blue, his eyes slits of white fury, his teeth bared in a snarl disguised as a vicious grin. He knocked sharply, resisting the urge to raze the house to the ground. The door opened, and Grillby barely restrained himself from lunging at the scowling skeleton in the doorway.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?" Papyrus said, the start of irritation in his voice. Grillby smiled darkly.

"Sans came into my bar earlier." Papyrus opened his mouth to speak, but Grillby raised his voice to talk over him. "He was so weak that his magic systems had started to fail, and he collapsed in the middle of my bar."

"SO THAT'S WHERE THE MUTT WENT." Papyrus growled. "I TOLD HIM NOT TO GO THERE. I'LL COME AND GET HIM."

"No, I don't think you will. Because I found something rather... Interesting on him, that could only be the cause of his magical exhaustion. That, and he's been starving for a week. So I'm going to do what you obviously cannot, and keep him alive. It that means burning that foul contraption off him, so be it, but if you'd like it off intact, I'm here for the key."

"HE'S MY PET. YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO KEEP HIM FROM ME!"

"That's true, but are you really going to try to take him from me? Because you may be the Captain of the Royal Guard, but it isn't you who really keeps order around here, is it? I keep the people in line through my bar to a certain extent, but it's the dogs that really run the show."

"WHAT HAVE THE DOGS GOT TO DO WITH SANS?" Papyrus crossed his arms, tapping his foot impatiently, angrily. Like he did with Sans. Grillby wanted nothing more than to kill this bastard.

"You know that the dogs only listen to you because Sans told them to, right? Or are you that self-centred that you didn't notice how much they care about him, or how much they want to rip you apart and play in your dust? Do you know what would happen if Sans didn't tell them not to touch you? Or, what would happen if he wasn't around to stop them?"

"THERE'S NO WAY THOSE STUPID MUTTS WOULD LISTEN TO HIM. YOU'RE BLUFFING." Papyrus snarled, as if he really thought Grillby didn't catch the edge of uncertainty in his voice. The fire monster just grinned wider, as if Papyrus had just told him the best joke in the world. In reality, he was barely containing himself from doing something he might regret.

"Oh really? Well, if I'm bluffing, I guess I'll just leave and let you deal with the fallout when Sans dies. I'm sure being hunted by a pack of five furious dogs will be fine for you. After all, it's not like they're highly trained, or like Dogressa goes into a blind rage if one of her pack gets hurt. And just to be clear, Sans is part of the pack. I guess you comparing him to a dog isn't totally inaccurate after all." With that, Grillby turned on his heel to leave. Just as he was about to take his first step, Papyrus finally caved.

"FINE, YOU CAN HAVE THE FUCKING KEY." Grillby continued his turn right back round to face the skeleton again.

"Excellent. You've finally seen reason."

"I WANT YOU TO BEING HIM BACK IN AN HOUR."

"No, I don't think I will. I'll bring him back here by tomorrow at the earliest, after he's been able to go a day without getting beaten for the smallest transgressions."

"HE'S MY PET! I'M LETTING YOU KEEP HIM FOR AN HOUR, NO LONGER!"

"How about this; you let me keep Sans for up to a week, and I'll consider the several thousand gold tab he's unable to pay himself because you won't let him have money paid. How's that for a deal?"

"FINE! BUT HE MUST BE BACK HERE BY MIDDAY NEXT WEEK, AND NO LATER."

"Alright. So can I have the key, or not?" Papyrus turned back into the house, muttering swears as he went. He finally returned with a key. Grillby grinned darkly at him one last time, and left, his flames still glowing so coldly blue that they looked almost white.

•••

Grillby made it back to the bar quickly, walking swiftly through to the back, only to see Sans curled in a corner in the living room, clutching his skull in fear, his eyes dark and lifeless. Grillby walked towards him, careful to make his steps loud enough that Sans would hear them easily.

"Sans?" The skeleton in question flinched quite violently. "It's ok, it's just me, it's just Grillby. You're alright." Grillby spoke in the most reassuring voice he could. It was hard to sound soft when he had deliberately developed his naturally quiet tone into something rough and harsh over the years.

"Grillby? Is it- is it really you?" Sans asked. Grillby frowned in confusion; he was right in front of Sans.

"Yeah, it's me. It's just me. You don't need to worry."

"Grillbz, I can't- I- I-" Sans was having trouble breathing, on the verge of a panic attack.

"It's ok, Sans. Just try to breathe for me, ok? I promise you, whatever it is, I won't get mad at you."

"I- I can't see, Grillby, my- my eyes aren't working, I can't-" Sans started sobbing uncontrollably, and Grillby finally understood. Of course Sans was terrified. Without his eyes, he was as good as dead.

"It's ok, Sans. They might not be working right now, but that's just because you're so low on magic. Your vision will come back. Here, let me describe what's going on for you. We're in the living room. I'm about two metres in front of you. You're in the corner furthest from the door. We're the only people in this room. We're the only people in the house, in fact."

"It's only us?" Sans asked quietly, like he couldn't quite believe it.

"It's only us." Grillby confirmed.

"Ok. Th- that's... Ok."

"Sans, I went to Papyrus's, and I got the key. I can take that thing off you, but we'll have to go to the bathroom so that we can get you cleaned up once it's off. Is that ok?" Sans stiffened at Papyrus's name, shrinking somehow further into the corner he was tightly curled into. He looked more afraid as Grillby continued talking, his bones shaking so much they started to rattle.

"No- no, nonononono-"

"It's ok, Sans. It'll just take a moment, but I have to get it off you. I'm going to pick you up now." Grillby realised that Sans was too panicked to reason with, so it would be better to just do it - if he left Sans like this, there was a very real possibility that he would dust simply out of magical exhaustion. Grillby pulled the tiny, frail monster from the corner even as he began to scream for him to stop. Grillby hated having to do this, but he had no choice. He grabbed the keys off the table as he passed. Suddenly, a sharp pain struck him in the side. A bone sharpened to a point stuck out from a new hole in his shirt. Sans looked frantic, as if he barely realised what he had done until after he had done it. Now he was a mess of apologies, practically begging that his punishment not be too harsh this time. He thought he was back with Papyrus, his impaired vision making him easily confused in his panic. Grillby just yanked the bone from his hip, and continued towards the bathroom, whispering reassurance all the way.

Chapter Text

Sans felt terror grip his body as he fired off an attack. It was a knee-jerk reaction; a reflex he normally forced himself to repress but at that moment, he couldn't, because he couldn't see, and he was so weak, and if it was Boss his voice alone would have paralysed Sans, but it wasn't, and now he was going to pay. There was no way Grillby was going to let him get away for with something like that, even if it didn't take much HP. The fact that he even dared attack was bad enough, no matter how unintentional it was. He tensed, apologising and begging for forgiveness. Hopefully his punishments would be less harsh than what Boss liked to do.

To his confusion, Grillby barely reacted but for an initial jolt when the attack hit. He stopped for a second, and then simply continued. So his punishment was probably going to be something other than a beating, then. He just hoped it wouldn't be what he thought it was, because he was far too weak for that. He wasn't stupid, though. He knew what his punishment was most likely to be.

He was set down on a seat with his shorts pulled down. It was cold, and felt like a toilet. So they really were in the bathroom. He guessed Grillby didn't want to get his bed messy. He began shaking even more, so afraid and yet utterly unable to do anything. He really was useless, just like Boss always said.

"Alright, Sans, we're in the bathroom. I'm going to take the belt off, ok?" Sans didn't see how he had much of a choice in the matter, but maybe if he played along with this twisted parody of consent, it would hurt less. Numbly, he nodded his head.

There was a dull click as the lock came undone, and Sans enjoyed the release from the constant chafing of metal against his hips while he could. It wouldn't be so relieving later. Surprisingly gentle hands removed the belt, leaving only the exposed plug and his plainly visible pussy. He wanted nothing more than to close his legs and hide himself, but resistance only brought more pain. Grillby seemed to enjoy pretending that they both wanted this, but Sans knew that one slip up would have him displaying a crueller face.

Long moments passed as Grillby walked across the room to get something, and Sans sat as still as possible, barely breathing for fear that the slightest movements could warrant some kind of retribution; after all, he hadn't been told that he could move. Footsteps returned, and with a ship that sounded like scissors, the plug inside his began to deflate. Grillby must have cut through the tube that was blocked at the end to stop air from escaping. Sans gulped as the plug was removed, leaving him straining to try and keep his magic formed - if he dispelled it without permission, he could barely imagine how much the punishment would hurt. He cringed at the thought alone, tears in his eyes as he felt his control on his magic slipping.

"Sans, you know you can... Y'know... Get rid of your magic now, right?" Grillby said, his voice loud in the otherwise silent room. Sans very nearly did just that, but realised at the last second that it was phrased as a question, not an order. He'd made the mistake of confusing the two before, he wasn't keen on doing so again.

"C- can I- please h- have permission to di- ispel my magic, sir?" He asked, not wanting to do so without express orders.

"I just said you could?" Grillby seemed confused, but Sans knew he could easily be faking it; testing Sans to see if he would make a mistake.

"Please." He gasped, barely able to speak. He was so weak.

"Yes! Yes, you can dispel your magic, Sans." Sans sobbed as finally - finally - He released his hold on his magic, letting his body rest for the first time in a week. He barely even cared as Boss's cum splattered all over his pubic bone, now that his ecto-flesh wasn't containing it. He fell unconscious not a second after.

•••

Sans woke up feeling surprisingly well rested. That was wrong. Everything about this was wrong. His HP was full, for one thing. It hadn't been full for days, and Boss never healed him. He was laying on a bed, as well, not his mattress or even Boss's bed, either. That brought a wave of panic and had him sitting up in a heartbeat, throwing the covers off, and jumping out of the unknown bed. Or, at least, he would have, if his feet weren't tangled in the sheets and his knees weren't so weak that he would have fallen anyway. Sprawled on the ground, he noticed another, far bigger, problem. The belt was gone. He wasn't allowed to remove it. Boss was going to fucking kill him.

"Sans?" Sans flinched as a familiar voice sounded from the door. Grillby was standing there, frowning at him. "Are you ok? I heard you fall."

"Y- yeah, I'm ok." Sans mumbled, shaking from sickening adrenaline that insisted something bad was about to happen.

"Good. I've made you some breakfast, come through when you want it." Grillby said lightly. Sans gaped as he left. He made Sans breakfast..? But... why? Oh, it would probably go on his tab, right? Or maybe Grillby would ask for different payment. Sans wasn't in a position to refuse, though. He pulled himself up onto his hands and knees, crawling out of the bedroom and down the hall, towards the door that was open a crack at the end. He pushed it open further, seeing the living room he had been in yesterday. Oh. Shit. That's what happened. Boss was going to punish him worse than he ever had for this. He never should have come here, he was so stupid to think he deserved help.

"Sans, what're you- fuck, get off the floor, Sans!" Grillby had noticed Sans, kneeling in the doorway. Apparently he didn't like it that Sans was crawling. Sans made to comply, but whined as a memory of him forgetting to crawl days ago, and the subsequent beating. He'd been left at only 0.2 of his HP. He curled back down to the floor, not daring rise up despite having been clearly ordered to do so. He was so fucking useless.

"Sans?" Grillby was coming nearer him, and Sans felt his panic building. He trembled, folding in on himself and whimpering.

"Please." Grillby stopped approaching at that single word. "Please, I can't, I can't, don't make me, please." Sans choked out the words, almost automatically. He waited long, tense seconds, not daring to look up and see Grillby's expression. A heavy sigh from the elemental had him stiffening.

"Ok, Sans, you don't have to stand up if you don't want to. But I want you to know that you can, and that I won't get mad if you do. Anyway, come and get breakfast."

"I- I should get back to Boss's house..." Sans trailed off, hoping he wouldn't appear rude for passing up a meal.

"Actually, I went and made a deal with him. You can stay with me for a week and he can consider your tab paid." Grillby smiled slightly, obviously pleased with himself. Sans smiled too, but the instant the other monster turned his back, Sans's eyes went dark. He could feel panic bubbling up inside him, because he knew Grillby was only trying to help, which was incredibly rare, and it's not like he wasn't grateful, but he knew that this had only made everything a thousand times worse. Boss was going to make him hurt more than he ever had before. Silent tears rolled down his face. He was so fucked.

Chapter Text

Papyrus was angry. No, he was fucking furious. Not only had the fucking mutt gone against his direct orders once again and gone to that trash bar that Grillby owned, but to add insult to injury, Grillby came and practically demanded that he could keep his pet for an entire week. And the dogs were apparently loyal to the worthless little shit. Now that it was morning and he'd had a chance to think about things, he found that he was only more enraged than before. He needed to punch something. Normally, Sans would be the best way to let off steam, but he wasn't here because he fucking disobeyed Papyrus. Papyrus owned him, how dare his good-for-nothing brother disobey him. So now, he was stalking towards Undyne's, hoping his co-Captain would have the time to spar.

He knocked sharply, and perhaps a little more forcefully than necessary. The door was answered by Undyne throwing it open, some insult getting caught in her tongue as she realised it was him.

"Oh, hey Papyrus." She said, the only one to ever talk so casually to Papyrus. "What's up? I didn't expect you here today."

"My apologies for coming uninvited, Undyne. I was wondering if you had the time for a duel?" The unspoken 'If I don't get to fight and soon I'm going on a killing spree' was plainly obvious in the growling tone he spoke in, so different from his usual commanding voice. Undyne was the only one but Sans that got to hear his voice like this; Undyne because he trusted her to some degree - of course, he still held a healthy amount of suspicion towards her - and Sans because he was such a weak fuck it didn't even matter.

"Yeah, sure. Let me just grab my armour. You can come in while I change." She said, understanding that he was so deeply enraged that the faster he got to fight, the less likely he was to lose all control and accidentally dust a monster. Not that Papyrus had any qualms about killing, it just didn't take away his anger and only left him with the urge to kill yet more monsters. It wasn't pretty the one time he gave into that urge, even he could admit that.

In just a few minutes, Undyne came back out, geared up and as ready to fight as he was. The two of them stepped outside, and Papyrus  gave her not a second of preparation before he launched his first attack, bones sharpened like razors slicing through air and barely missing blue flesh. Undyne grinned; game on.

She sent spears flying in his direction in a crimson haze, speeding up further as they closed in on him. Papyrus dodged easily. They were only warming up. Sending his counter, mixed regular and red magic bones, he felt his body become smoother with each movement, the tenseness leaving him as he relaxed into the familiar routine of their fight. He could see Undyne easing into it too, her mind snapping to full awareness at the same moment his did. They locked eyes. Time to really begin.

•••

Undyne flopped into the seat across from Papyrus, groaning. They had fought for hours, going for far longer than usual, due to Papyrus's mood. Both of them were exhausted, covered in minor cuts and bruises. Still, Papyrus felt more alive than ever, and Undyne grinned good-naturedly despite this mostly being for Papyrus's benefit.

"So, I think it's only fair that since I let you throw attacks at me for well over three hours that you tell me what got you so pissed." It was Papyrus's turn to groan, then, but Undyne's grin grew only larger. "Come on, spill."

"It's my fucking worthless shit of a brother."

"Thought so. It always is, with you."

"The mutt disobeyed me, again. He went back to that god awful bar, and then that annoying elemental who owns it came and basically told me to fuck off because he wasn't giving me back my pet, and the dogs consider Sans pack so there isn't anything I can fucking do about it, because they apparently want to tear me to shreds, and will take it as an opportunity to attack me!" His last words were punctuated by his fist coming down hard on the table, his eyes sparking with red fury.

"Shit, no wonder you're pissed. But it is illegal to take another monster's pet, so there's not much he can do if you take Sans back."

"He struck a deal with me. He keeps Sans for a week and I don't have to pay that stupid tab my brother keeps."

"Woah, I'm kinda impressed. He managed to bargain with you? Over Sans? I don't even have the balls to do that. So what are you doing after the week? I'm assuming it's gonna be something of a shitshow."

"I still haven't thought up the perfect punishment. I can't believe that the little shit fucking up and left, after last time."

"Seems like you need to get your dog on a leash. Or, like, chop his legs off so he can't keep running away, or something." Undyne snorted at her terrible suggestion, except, the more Papyrus thought about it, the more it seemed like the perfect solution. He must have looked speculative, because Undyne's face morphed into one of disbelief.

"You're not seriously considering - Oh my god, you are!" Undyne started cackling like a crazy bint, but Papyrus could care less about what she thought.

"No, it's actually a pretty good idea. Think about it - I already make him crawl in the house, so there's no change there. As long as he's with me he should be able to go outside just fine, and now that I know the dogs like him, he could even go to his sentry station without too much of a worry that he'll be dusted. And he's got that stupid teleportation trick of his, so he can escape pretty easily if he's in danger." Undyne seemed to be considering, nodding along with what Papyrus was saying.

"Yeah, you're right, actually. But there are a whole host of other fun things you could do, too. Maybe you could save that one? He'd need to do something pretty fucking awful to deserve that, but then again, you don't really care weather he deserves it or not."

•••

Papyrus walked home with a vicious grin on his face. He and Undyne had spent a long time bouncing ideas back and fourth on exactly how to punish Sans, but in the end, they came up with something perfect. Papyrus found himself feeling more and more excited about Sans coming back at the end of the week. For now, he set up the equipment he needed to carry the punishment out, the grin never leaving his face.

Chapter Text

Sans was sitting in the middle of the living room floor, his head tilted to one side, his eyes glassy and blank. He just sat there, unmoving but for the soft stuttering of his breaths. Grillby was out in the bar, doing his job. That left Sans listless, not knowing what he was supposed to in this situation. He was so used to being ordered to do every tiny thing - from going to his room in the evening to waking up each morning. He didn't know how to deal with having free time, after the entirety of his waking moments had been governed so closely for so long. So when Grillby left him there to work, he just stayed in the same place. That seemed the safest thing to do, in any case. Moving without being told he could was dangerous, the thought of doing so almost making him flinch.

So he just sat there, accepting that he probably wouldn't get to move until Grillby got back, and unfortunately his bar stayed open pretty late. He gulped, once again wishing he had just gone back to Boss's, rather than disobey so stupidly. The collar weighed heavy on his neck, the sign that Boss owned him, despite his blatant disrespect. That got Sans thinking, even as he desperately tried to make his mind go back to being empty. He really didn't want to think about this right now. It wasn't working. Of course it wasn't.

•••

"SANS! I'M HOME." Sans turned to see Papyrus standing in the doorway, having just gotten back from his Royal Guard training with Undyne. As much as Sans didn't like the Captain, he was really proud of his little bro - he'd managed to get promoted to lieutenant, and so quickly, as well!

"Hey bro," he said lightly, "how was training today?" Papyrus smirked, and it was darker than Sans was used to. There was something unsettling about it; his eyes looked too cold, his mouth twitched up at the corners as he stared at Sans in a way that made him feel hunted.

"I'VE BEEN PROMOTED TO CO-CAPTAIN, NO THANKS TO YOU." He said, pride in his voice, at least until scorn entered his tone at the mention of Sans's laziness.

"That's great, Paps! I'm so proud of you," Sans said, and truly, he was so happy that his brother had achieved the goal he set out to reach. "And, I'm sorry I always weigh you down with my bullshit. You know it's hard for me, Papyrus, and I'm trying, I really am."

"I KNOW, SANS. THAT'S WHY I THOUGHT I'D GIVE YOU A LITTLE PUSH." The unnerving look on Papyrus's face became positively predatory. Sans suddenly realised that he was in danger. His eyes went dark, and he quickly tried to think of the safest place he could teleport to. Before he had the chance, something struck him from behind, hard. As the world faded to black, and pain muddied his senses, he saw Papyrus, standing over him, grinning like a maniac.

"You have no idea how long I've been planning this." A voice muttered, dripping with horrific glee. Sans was awake in an instant. He instantly wished he wasn't. They were in the shed, and a heavy chain was shackled to each of his limbs, stopping him from standing up. Papyrus was watching him, still grinning, the glint in his eyes unlike any expression Sans had ever seen on his brother's face. Sans was entirely naked, and felt so totally exposed, his limbs spread apart like this. He could feel sweat dripping down his face as he took in the situation, tears in his eyes as he realised that Papyrus, his little bro, the one reason he had left to believe there was any good in this world, had done this.

"P- Papyrus, listen," Sans cringed at how much his voice shook, "I d- don't know why you're doing th- this, but please, c- can we just-"

"No." The sharp answer cutting him off made Sans flinch. "There's nothing you can do to change my mind, Sans." I've been waiting for this moment for months. And it's finally here." Sans had no idea what Papyrus was going to do, but he was terrified. His magic kicked in instinctively, trying to teleport him out of the shed and somewhere, anywhere, but there. Nothing happened. He couldn't teleport. He was trapped, and Papyrus could do whatever he wanted to him. Tears rolled down his face, and he whimpered. Papyrus had always been stronger than him, more motivated than him, more able to adapt than him. Still, he never thought he'd turn out like this, when he was so kind as a child.

Papyrus moved closer, and Sans tried to get further away, but there was barely any wiggle room in the chains restraining him. His brother unlocked the shackles on his arms, leaving his legs attached. In his hands, he held several sheets of paper and a pen. He passed the sheets to Sans, along with the pen. Sans read the first few lines of text, and felt his soul lurch. This was a pet bonding contract. He started to shake, seeing that Papyrus had signed the part that recognised him as an owner.

"Sign it." Papyrus growled, standing over Sans threateningly. Sans felt like he was going to be sick. Pets were common, a lot of higher up monsters had pets; Undyne had Alphys, and Doggo was Dogamy and Dogaressa's pet because he couldn't survive on his own with his disability. But he had thought that Papyrus viewed him as more than that, more than just a weak monster to own.

"N- no!" He stuttered, "No, I'm n- not- I- I won't!" He sounded so fucking scared, even to himself. Papyrus narrowed his eyes, and Sans saw the flame of wickedness there. Had Papyrus always had that spark, just waiting to be lit?

Papyrus slapped him. Papyrus slapped him, right across the face. Papyrus slapped him, and Sans felt shock gripping his very core. Sure, Papyrus had to knock him out to bring him here, and chain him to the floor, and was trying to make him into a pet, but physical violence like this - it just felt much more intimate. It was easy to knock a monster out with a magic attack. It was easy to bind an unresisting body. It was so easy to write up a contract like the one Papyrus had. It took real intent to hurt someone physically like that.

"Maybe a night here will change your perspective." Papyrus said, and with those chilling words, walked out, slamming the door behind him. Sans heard the key turn in the lock, and he was trapped. A few seconds of dead silence after Papyrus left, Sans began to cry.

•••

"Sans? Sans?! Sans, are you ok?!" Someone had a hand on Sans's shoulder, and his first instinct was to get away. Finally snapping back to reality, he yanked himself out of the hold, shuffling backwards, gasping for breath, until he finally realised who it was.

"G- Grillby?" He asked, simply wanting to confirm that he wasn't still dreaming. It was harder and harder to separate real life from his thoughts these days. Everything hurt, and everything somehow revolved around Boss, in his daydreams and when he was fully awake.

"Yeah, it's me. Are you ok? You weren't responding at all, and you're crying, Sans." Sans reached shaking phalanges up to his face, and sure enough, it was damp with tears. Why was he thinking about that day now? It had happened years ago, he should be over it by now. He should have just accepted it. His hand moved down from his cheek to clutch at the spiked collar circling his neck, the sign of Boss's ownership of him. Irremovable. Inescapable.

"I- I'm fine. T- that happens a l- lot, it isn't that b- bad." Grillby was talking again, seeming concerned, but Sans had already zoned out. He needed to stop doing that.

Chapter Text

Grillby was getting increasingly worried about Sans. Ever since the day when he had found the skeleton sitting in the same position he'd left him in after ten hours, the same sort of thing had happened again and again. He'd find Sans curled up in the corner, or under the bed, just sitting there, hiding, so still if not for his breathing he'd look a perfect statue. When Grillby asked how long he'd been there, he'd look down and shrug, saying he didn't know. Grillby had hoped that a week away from Papyrus would be good for Sans, but as the days went by, he began to realise just how wrong he was. Sure, it helped him physically, but mentally? Emotionally? If anything, Sans was getting worse. He was just so jumpy, and quiet, and it seemed he apologised every time he did anything that he even thought had a chance of being taken badly.

The worst thing to happen was on the first night. Grillby was showing Sans the room he was going to sleep in, when the tiny monster started trembling in fear.

"Please- Please don't make me go on the bed. I- I can't- please- please-"

"It's ok, it's ok, Sans, I won't make you. You can sleep on the sofa instead." Grillby reassured, knowing exactly why Sans was so terrified of even going on the bed, and feeling sick because of it. Sans didn't seem to be comforted, though, shaking his head, and still panicking.

"Where do you normally sleep at Papyrus's house?"

"T- the floor." Shit. There was no fucking way Grillby was going to make Sans sleep on the floor.

"How about you sleep on a mattress, on the floor?" He said, hoping Sans would accept the compromise. The skeleton was biting his lip in deliberation, clearly anxious still.

"O- ok." Thank the stars. Grillby didn't know what he would do if Sans had refused that.

"Alright, I'll get a spare mattress out, and you can sleep in here, is that ok?" Sans nodded, and Grillby went to get the mattress, and some blankets.

When he came back Sans had calmed down slightly, but it seemed he got more nervous again when he saw the blankets.

"W- why-" Sans cut himself off, and Grillby felt disgusted at Papyrus. He made Sans afraid to even question things.

"What is it Sans?" He asked, hoping he didn't sound too threatening. He'd never been a particularly violent monster, but he knew he was still intimidating. The small monster on the floor swallowed, taking a moment before speaking.

"Why d- did you bring blankets?"

"So that you won't be cold." Grillby answered, laying down the mattress, still feeling guilty that he was making Sans sleep on the floor when there was a perfectly fine bed right there. Except, he wasn't making him, because he panicked at the idea of sleeping anywhere but the floor and Grillby didn't even want to imagine what he went through for that to be the case.

"B- but-"

"As your host, Sans, I insist on giving you blankets. You don't have to use them, but you can have them." There was a beat of silence. Then, Sans finally, so quietly Grillby almost thought he imagined it, said

"Ok."

It was only when Grillby walked in the next morning to find Sans in the corner covered in his own blood and begging that he didn't have to hurt anymore that Grillby realised how very much he wasn't ok.

Chapter Text

Sans didn't seem to think he had even the slightest bit of worth. He seemed to truly believe the shit Papyrus had been telling him, that he was stupid and useless and weak. Grillby had tried to tell Sans just how disgusting and wrong what Papyrus had told him was, but the instant he brought it up, Sans would look up at him with this terrified look on his face, like Papyrus would somehow hear them. It was the same as whenever Grillby tried to convince him that he didn't need to crawl around the house, or eat his meals like a dog, or sleep on the floor rather than the mattress he'd laid out, or that Sans was allowed to do things without asking him. Sans just flat out didn't believe him. Couldn't believe him. Had never been given any reason to believe he was anything but free EXP.

As the week came to an end, Grillby couldn't help but feel he'd only hurt Sans more by doing this. Sure, he'd gotten a break from the constant starvation, but he started hyperventilating the instant Grillby told him he was going back. His eyes went dark, his bones rattling even as he tried to calm down. Grillby found himself wishing Sans had never come, if only to save the skeleton pain.

When he took Sans back to Papyrus's house, the taller monster opened the door with a sharp-toothed grin that promised to make Sans suffer. Grillby had to restrain himself from burning the fucker. He forced himself to turn around and leave, guilt eating away at him even as he did. There was nothing he could do.

•••

As soon as Grillby was gone, Boss grabbed Sans by the neck and threw him across the living room. He was grinning like a maniac when Sans saw him through blurred eyes. That was far more terrifying than when he looked mad. Boss was going to enjoy whatever he did to Sans.

"Stand up." Boss growled. Sans was terrified, he knew he wasn't allowed to stand in Bosses house, but Boss had ordered him to. He scrambled to his feet. "Strip, and form your magic." Sans gulped, quickly shrugging off his clothes and forcing his magic to do what Boss wanted. He trembled. Boss left the room, coming back with a box. Sans couldn't stop shaking, no matter how hard he tried.

"Make a fist." Boss said, taking leather mitts from the box. He pulled them over Sans's hands, locking them. Sans could feel himself beginning to panic as the use of his fingers was taken away, trapped in the uncomfortably tight mitts. Boss pulled a ring gag out of the box next, and Sans opened his mouth without being told to. His tongue formed instinctively, and he felt himself start drooling almost immediately.

Then Boss got out a blindfold. Sans shook his head, tears pooling in his sockets. He hated being blindfolded, hated not being able to see. It was terrifying. Boss just glared at him, pulling on the blindfold anyway, and securing it tightly. Sans jumped as something was pushed into his ear. Boss was going to take away his hearing, too? Sans whined, helpless to stop him. His nose was blocked up as well, leaving him only the sense of touch. Then, he was pulled to his knees, and he felt a tug on his leash. He crawled uncertainty, jumping as his knees hit snow, and shivering more as he was dragged through it. They could be in the middle of Snowdin right now, with monsters laughing at how pathetic he was, and he wouldn't know. Finally, he felt cool concrete beneath him. The shed, then. Boss grabbed his ankle, attaching a cuff to it, and pulling his leg open. He attached the same type of cuff to the other side, stretching Sans's legs painfully wide. He tried to close them, only to find something between them was stopping him. His thighs shook.

Boss lifted him off the ground, depositing him face up on something soft. His arms were pulled above him, and tied there. Seconds passed. Then a minute. Sans hoped he hadn't been left alone like this, as horrible as the alternative was. Finally, one of the ear plugs was removed. When Boss spoke, any semblance of calmness he'd managed to gain disappeared instantly. It was the voice Boss used when he was about to try something new. Something more humiliating and painful and terrifying than he ever had before. That was the voice Boss spoke in the first day he chained Sans up in the shed, slapped him hard across the face and forced him to sign the contract. It sent chills up Sans's spine.

"Since you seem so adamant on running away with other monsters, I've decided to give you a punishment fit for the crime. I'm going to leave you here, and monsters are going to pay me to let them fuck you. You won't have any idea who it is each time. It could be someone you see every day. It could be someone you've met at that dump Grillby runs. Who knows, it could even be Grillby himself. Maybe he wanted to bend you over and take you the entire time you were there, but was smart enough to know what I'd do if he did. But now, well, now I'm selling you like the whore you are. There's nothing stopping him from taking what he wants."

Sans was crying by the third sentence, trembling more and more as Boss continued. When the plug was pressed back into his ear, he shook his head violently, crying out something unintelligible. The message was clear. It didn't matter. He was a pet, and Boss could do whatever he wanted with him. He could dust him and nobody would bat an eyelid. Sans tried to breathe, tried to relax, but when he was grabbed by hands that most certainly weren't Boss's, he couldn't help but panic. He thrashed in his bonds, crying and screaming despite knowing no help was coming. He was grabbed by the throat, choked until he stopped struggling, stopped yelling. He didn't bother to fight after that. He just sobbed softly, letting the monster fuck him. There was nothing he could do to stop him, to stop any of this. An overwhelming feeling of hopelessness washed over him. He did nothing but whine as his soul fractured. He knew what that meant, he'd felt that sickening snap often enough. His maximum HP had dropped. It was only a matter of time, he guessed.

What was it at now? .9? A half? Or had it dropped so far he had but .1 HOPE left? He wouldn't be surprised. Maybe if he got lucky, the monster above him would push him too far, bring him down that last tiny bit. He knew Boss wouldn't be so careless. He would never let Sans die until he wanted him to. Suddenly the monster stopped. Left. Sans didn't understand; he hadn't even finished. Then he felt familiar leather gloves on him. He never expected to relax so much into Boss's touch. Then the blindfold was ripped off him, the earplugs removed. Boss was furious. Well, for a second there, Sans thought he was worried, but that was impossible.

"Sans, you idiot." He hissed. What had Sans done now? He didn't know, but nothing good if his punishment was stopped halfway. He tried to mumble out an apology, but with the gag, all he could get out was a pained moan. His arms and legs were unlocked, and he was carried to the house. Nothing made sense. Why was Boss carrying him, not dragging him through the snow like usual? Why did the punishment stop? Would he get a worse one later? What was going to happen to him?

Boss laid him on the sofa, snapping at him to stay. Sans couldn't have moved it he wanted to. He was petrified, frozen with fear. He wasn't allowed on the sofa. He felt tears well up in his sockets. He would take the punishment he'd been having over this. He didn't understand. He didn't know what the rules were right now - what it he broke one without meaning to? No, he couldn't, he couldn't face Boss's anger again right now.

He flinched when Boss re-entered the room. He was shaking even harder than before, and he couldn't breathe. The gag was making it hard to take a steady breath. Boss unbuckled the strap holding it in place. Sans gasped for air, finally voicing his question.

"B- Boss? Wh- what's going o- on?" He would never normally ask Boss a question , but none of the normal rules seemed to matter and he wasn't thinking. Boss was opening a box, and Sans thought maybe he didn't hear.

"You fractured your soul, Sans." Boss replied. Sans was even more confused than before. Boss didn't even tell him off for his question. And he didn't know what fracturing his soul had to do with anything.

"O- oh." Boss glanced up from where he was now summoning Sans's soul to his hand. Sans forced himself not to pull away.

"Do you have any idea how serious this is, Sans?"

"Um-"

"Soul fractures can kill you." Boss snapped, "And you're not allowed to die."

"Never killed me before." Sans muttered, quiet enough that he didn't expect to be heard.

"This has happened before?" Boss growled. Oh shit. Sans was in so much trouble. "YOU DIDN'T FUCKING TELL ME?" He was all but roaring now, glowering with such ferocity Sans was sure there was no way out of this.

"N- no, Boss, I swear, it was- i- it was before, you uh-"

"DON'T LIE TO ME, SANS."

"I'm sorry! I- it only happened once since, uh, I signed the c- contract. It h- happened- I think- t- twice before that? And it happened not long after I, um, I- I wasn't a good pet back then."

"Don't ever keep something like this from me again, you understand, mutt?"

"Y- yes Boss."

A long moment of silence passed as Boss continued treating Sans's soul. Finally, Sans broke it as he was finishing.

"H- how much do I have left?"

"Point 8."

"Oh. That's- good."

 

Chapter Text

Sans had been kneeling at Boss's feet for ten minutes before he finally acknowledged him.

"What is it?" Sans flinched at the impatient snap in Boss's voice.

"I- um-" Sans squirmed uncomfortably, his eyes downcast as he tried to force himself to form words.

"Ask whatever it is you want to ask." Boss snapped his book closed, fixing Sans with his two unwavering eyelights. Sans felt trapped beneath his glare.

"W- why are you being so nice to me? You're letting me wear c-clothes and walk and eat and you- you haven't even hit me all week. I don't- I don't understand." Sans found that after the first sentence, he couldn't stop the words from coming out of his mouth, couldn't even stop himself from muttering something incredibly stupid at the end. "I wish everything could just go back to how it was."

"You know Sans, any other monster in your position wouldn't even question my lenience. Are you really that masochistic that you want to go back?"

"I don't know how to act n- normally, anymore. I don't know how to live like a normal person." Sans admitted. "Its- I wish you'd just punish me. I keep on waiting for y- you to hit me or- or something, but you haven't."

"Oh I plan on punishing you again, Sans. Don't think just because I stopped that I was finished." Boss had picked up his book again, but he hadn't told Sans he could go. Finally, when Sans was beginning to think he'd be forced to sit there for hours, Boss spoke again. "When you wake up tomorrow, go to your sentry station. When you get back, everything will be back to normal. You'll crawl in the house again, take your clothes off, and sit by my feet until I tell you to move. I'll punish you for how terrible of a pet you've been. Understand?"

"Yes Boss."

"You can go."

"Th- thank you, Boss."

•••

Sans flinched harder than usual when Boss slammed his door open and snapped at him to get up. It took him a moment to remember that today was the end of his break. He should have kept his stupid mouth shut. It's just- he was scared. He didn't understand what was going on, or why Boss wasn't hurting him, why he told him he could walk again. He hated not knowing what the rules were, or what was expected of him. Not knowing that could only end with him getting hurt even worse than if things just went back to normal.

Then again, Boss hurt him anyway. He hurt him worse when he broke a rule, but Sans knew that Boss wanted him to, sometimes. Just to give him reason to beat Sans harder. Not that he needed a reason to hurt Sans, really.

Sans made sure to savour his last walk down the stairs, knowing it would seem a luxury soon enough. He left quietly, heading out towards his station. He felt even more vulnerable than usual, his HP reduced and body shaking. Walking through Snowdin, every passing glance made him feel all too exposed. Any one of them could have- He couldn't even think the words. The thought alone disgusted him. Why would Boss- well, the answer to that question would always be the same. Because he wanted to. Because he could. Because Sans deserved it.

"Sans!" The skeleton jumped, summoning an attack before he even saw who had shouted.

"O- oh. Hey Doggo. I uh- didn't see ya there."

"Are you okay? You've been missing for a week. I thought- I thought he'd finally dusted you."

"You can't get rid of me that easily." Sans reached up to pet Doggo's head, practically feeling the anxiety coming off him as he gave Sans a thorough sniff.

"Did Papyrus really let someone else touch you?" Doggo asked out of nowhere.

"Y- you know about that?"

"Everyone knows. The sick fuck has been bragging about it."

"Who is it?" Sans asked timidly, quietly explaining on Doggo's confused look. "I had a blindfold on."

"It was ice scream guy. Nobody believed him, he's so weak compared to the rest of his family, and he said Papyrus didn't let him do it cheaply. He's always trying to sell stuff, so everyone assumed he was broke."

"Well, nice to know Boss thinks I have some worth, at least." Sans muttered. He forgot how closely Doggo listened, because the monster started growling, his lips pulled back in a disgusted grimace.

"All you need to do is way the word, and we'll make sure not even a single piece of his dust is found."

"You're not killing Boss, Doggo."

"But-"

"He's my brother."

"He hurt you, Sans! He treats you like an object more than a living being, he sold your body to another monster! Why do you keep defending him?" Doggo was whining by the end, hating seeing his pack mate get hurt. He just wanted to make Papyrus pay for what he did. Sans wasn't the same monster that he used to be. He flinched at the slightest sound, walked curled in on himself, and he reeked of fear and pain. Even Doggo, with his impaired sight, could see that Sans was suffering.

"No. I don't want any of you to touch him." Sans said, his voice more confident than it had been in ages. He hadn't seen any of the pack in over two weeks, and they were the only ones he still dared to talk to with that much authority. These conversations made him feel like he was talking about his little brother again. Boss was so far removed from being his brother that he tried not to even associate the two anymore. Boss was his master, his literal owner who forced him into a contract that stripped him of all rights. Boss could kill him and the law would defend him if anyone claimed it was murder. His brother was in the royal guard, training with the captain and close to becoming one himself. He was as kind as he could be, strong, and he protected Sans. The only thing they shared in his mind was a name. Even their faces were different, one an indifferent scowl put up for protection, the other holding maliciously glinting eyelights and a twisted smirk which darkened with rage.

"Okay, but we all agree that something needs to be done. You can't keep letting him treat you like this, Sans."

"I get the point, Doggo, but I still want you to stay away from him. I need to get to my station, anyways."

"Look after yourself, Sans."

"You too."

Sans continued deeper into the forest, Doggo disappearing from sight. As he rounded the last corner, he froze. Standing leaning on his station, a rabbit monster with white fur and red irises set within yellow eyes was rolling a cigarette.

 

Chapter Text

Sans took a step back, his eyelights dark. Ice scream guy put his cigarette down on the sentry post, pushing himself up off the structure. 

"I was wondering when you were going to show up." He said, a far cry from the timid monster he had always seemed to be. He walked confidently towards Sans.

"S- stay away from me." Sans snapped, but his voice shook, and his habitual stutter made it sound less of a threat and more of the plea it was.

"Or what?" Ice scream guy stopped, smirking mockingly at him. "Your 'Boss' doesn't care about you, he's not gonna do anything to me. After all, he's the one who let me fuck you. One problem though. Because of how pathetically weak you are, I didn't get to finish." He took another few steps forward, and Sans scrambled backwards frantically.

"Stay back!" He begged, summoning attacks and aiming them at his attacker as threateningly as possible. Ice scream guy barely even paused, grabbing Sans by the arm. His defence dropped immediately. He knew he should fight, knew he had a good chance if winning, but he was paralyzed by the touch.

Sans was shaking as he was dragged close enough to the other monster that he could feel breath on his face. The zipper to his jacket was pulled down, the cold air hitting him like a punch to the chest, the one thin white  t-shirt he still owned was so threadbare you could see the outline of his bones through it. 

He was pushed up against his sentry station as Ice scream guy continued to undress him. He barely dared to blink. He wanted to yell as loud as he could, and hope the dogs would hear him, but years of conditioning made him passive and silent.

The t-shirt ripped as sharp claws dragged down Sans's sides. He felt like his soul was going to burst, crack and fall apart until Sans was a pile of dust. He never thought he'd miss the way Boss treated him, but he'd give anything to be with Boss instead of here, with a stranger, someone who he didn't know. He knew how cruel Boss could be, and Boss knew exactly how far he could push sans. He had no idea what ice scream guy was going to do.

The monster's dick was grinding up against Sans, making him tremble. He didn't want this. He really didn't want this.

He formed a pussy like the obedient dog he was.

•••

Papyrus was fuming. The first day back to normal, and Sans was late. An hour late. The mutt probably fell asleep at his station. Now Papyrus was forced to find him and bring him back.

Then he saw Sans laying limply on the ground, his shirt ripped and his jacket half frozen to the station. His shorts were nowhere in sight. It was pretty obvious what happened, and Papyrus was going to make the monster who did this wish they'd never been born. Nobody touched his pet without his permission.

He picked Sans up, far more gentle than he ever normally was. He grimaced at the hardened cum plastered to Sans's pelvis, covering him with his jacket. He had a pretty good idea of who did this. That fucking rabbit was going to pay for daring to touch his property.

He checked Sans quickly, skipping over that stupid message that came up and glancing at his HP. 0.6. He was fine. Before he released Sans's soul, he accidentally flicked his eyes back to that line of text.

*Please just kill me already.

Papyrus growled, and began to walk briskly home, glaring at any monster he saw. Sans really wanted to die. He supposed it was logical to want death in Sans's situation. He was so trapped that the only way out was to dust. The only problem being, there was no way Papyrus was letting him get away that easily.

Papyrus put Sans down on the sofa. The mutt had already ruined the entire 'going back to normal' thing anyway. He healed him back up to point eight, if only because he wasn't the one to cause the damage. Sans was still in that state of unresponsive blankness he went into if Papyrus didn't force him to stay present. He could fix that.

Papyrus dug his fingers into Sans's eye socket, making his pet jolt at the sensation. He quickly came back round, awake again. Finally. Now Papyrus could finally confirm it really was Ice scream guy that fucked him.

"Who did this to you." He said as soon as Sans opened his eyes.

"W- what?"

"I said. Who did this to you." Papyrus repeated, glaring.

"I- it was Ice scream guy."

"Why didn't you stop him? I know you're at least semi capable of defending yourself, Sans. Why didn't you teleport for fucks sake?!"

"I'm not used to defending myself." Sans muttered tiredly.

"Oh, so it's my fault that you'll let any monster fuck you? That you'll just bend over and take it like the useless slut you are?"

"Sorry."

"Sorry for what? Sorry for making me drag you back here, or sorry for letting him cum inside you and making a mess of the sofa?" Sans didn't answer. "Whatever. Now I need to go and find him because of you.

"You wouldn't have to find him if you didn't collar me in the first place." Sans mumbled, so quiet Papyrus almost didn't hear him.

"What. The fuck. Did you just say." Sans looked up, fear etched into every feature of his skull.

"N- nothing!"

"DON'T FUCKING LIE TO ME!" Papyrus picked Sans up by the front of his torn up t-shirt, gripping hard enough to add another four holes. "HOW DARE YOU TALK TO ME LIKE THAT!"

"Boss- I'm sorry- I'm sorry- I didn't mean it!"

"DID I GIVE YOU PERMISSION TO SPEAK?" Papyrus flung the smaller skeleton across the room, hearing a satisfying crunch as he impacted the wall head first. He was sobbing as Papyrus walked over to him, trying desperately to hide in the corner. Papyrus kicked him in the ribs, yanking him out of the corner and throwing him halfway back across the room. Stalking over to him again, he brought his foot down on his lower leg. Hard. The scream of pain as the bone broke nearly clean in two made him grin, his eyelights glowing deadly red.

"I'm going to go and find Ice scream guy now. If you've moved even an inch when I get back, I'm going to break your other leg. Understand?" No answer. He kicked him in the ribs again. "Do you understand?"

"Y- yes Boss." Sans gasped. Boss turned, leaving sans lying there, still crying brokenly. He slammed the door far harder than necessary, and Sans breathed a sigh of relief. Then, against his better judgement, he took a shortcut. After all, Boss was going to hurt him no matter what. It couldn't really get any worse.

Right?

Chapter Text

Sans landed back near his sentry station, falling to the ground with a cry as his broken leg screamed with pain. He curled up and just wept for what felt like centuries, bones rattling with the cold, having left his jacket at Boss's house. Finally, he lifted his head, looking to the massive doors leading to the ruins. Dragging himself up to them, he leaned heavily against them. He rapped a fist against the door, two sharp echoing noises filling the air.

"Knock knock." He said, exhaustion making his voice weak. He didn't expect an answer. The woman behind the door had stopped talking to him so much after the kid left, and over the years, as Sans stopped having the time or energy to talk to her, and she stopped coming to the door so often, they eventually ceased talking altogether. So it was a surprise when, from behind the door, an old, familiar voice rang out.

"Who's there?" Sans smiled, more of a habit than anything.

"The name's Sans. Sans the skeleton."

"Oh!" The woman exclaimed,not expecting a serious answer. "Well, it's nice to meet you, Sans." She didn't offer her name. Sans didn't really care.

"Yeah, nice to talk to you again."

"Are- are you ok? You seem tired."

"I am. I'm really, really tired."

"Oh."

"Yeah." They sat in silence for a while. Before Sans could really think about it, he opened his mouth. "I'm going to kill myself today."

"What? You- you're serious!?" Sans didn't answer. "Is that why you came here today?"

"Yeah. Figured it'd be rude not to say goodbye."

"You- why? You've survived this long, surely-"

"I'm a pet, lady. I have been for three years, because my own brother chained me up in a shed and forced me to sign a contract. He broke one of my legs today, and it's not the first time. He-" Sans started crying. Again. "He rapes me, forces me to crawl around naked, doesn't let me eat for weeks sometimes- I- I can't keep living anymore- I'm- I can't. I just can't."

"Sans- that's-"

"It's not like killing myself will take very much. I only have point eight of an HP point left, anyway. My soul cracked enough times that I don't even have a full point. How fucking pathetic is that?"

"Please don't do this. You're- for the longest time, you've been one of the only things keeping me going."

"And what's keeping me going? Did you think about that? I can't keep living in this hellhole."

"You're being really selfish Sans."

"Oh, I'm being selfish!? You're telling me you'd rather I keep on suffering, for your own fucking peice of mind!? Yeah, no. I can't deal with this shit anymore. I'm leaving."

"Sans!-" Sans had already hauled himself to his one good foot, forming a bone construct to act as a crutch. He was sick and fucking tired of living. He was going to do it. He was going to fucking do it, finally. He could ignore that sickening feeling in his chest for a while. Just long enough to drive a bone through it.

He collapsed back down to sitting a good few metres away from the door. He could hear the lady banging on it from the other side. If she really cared, she'd come out here. But, sure enough, she didn't. After a minute or two, the banging stopped.

Sans made the sharpest bone he possibly could, holding it to his ribcage, positioned so when he drove it forward, it would go through the bones and straight into his soul. he was breathing hard now, white noise filling his head. His eyelights shuttered out. He couldn't see, could barely hear, he was going to do it, he had to do it-

He heard footsteps, moving to him quickly. No, nononono he had to- he was so close-

A familiar gloved hand grabbed him by the wrist so tight he felt the bone bend from the pressure. He was in so much trouble.

A low, dangerous growl came from above him. In a last ditch effort to finally - finally - get away, Sans quickly swapped the bone to his other hand, plunging it downwards. Not quick enough. Boss grabbed his other arm in a similarly unforgiving grasp. Sans let the magic that made up the bone fizzle out. There was no point fighting now. He went limp, unresponsive, trying desperately to dive into that numb blankness fast enough that Boss didn't have time to pull him back. Boss managed to deftly catch his mind, just as he had his hands. Digging a claw into his arm did the trick.

Boss lifted sans, holding both his legs in one hand, slinging the rest of his limp body over his shoulder, uncaring of the jagged way the position pulled on Sans's break.

Sans started sobbing, not caring that they were outside, not caring that anyone could see, that he was exposing himself, showing how weak he really was. It didn't matter. Nothing fucking mattered. Boss was going to hurt him. Boss was going to make him suffer like he never had before, all because he was too weak to just get it over with and kill himself.

The walk home felt like the longest journey of his life. He contemplated just summoning another bone and dusting himself right there, but he knew he couldn't follow through. He could feel stares on him as they reached Snowdin, barely bothering to feel shame for looking so weak. Everyone already knew he was worthless free exp, anyway.

The door slammed before Sans even knew they were inside. Boss didn't put him down, carrying him up to his room. If Sans hadn't already given up, the look on Boss's face would have done it. He wasn't going to run again. Not today, at least.

Boss left him, growling for him to stay. He didn't dare disobey again, sitting on the cold floor of his bedroom, still shivering from being outside with only his t-shirt on. His leg throbbed painfully, but he couldn't move to a more comfortable position, not when Boss was already so absolutely furious.

Boss came back in, carrying a large wooden board and a box. Sans whimpered, wanting desperately to get away. He couldn't run from Boss. Not again.

Boss placed the board down on the floor. It had six leather straps, positioned in triangles at either end of the board, points facing each other. Boss grabbed Sans by the collar, dragging him to lay on the board. He secured a strap around his neck, pulling his arms above his head. As he did up the one that went around his spine, just below his ribcage, Sans realised with a sinking feeling that this had been made for him.

Boss got something out of the box. It was a round, wickedly sharp blade attached to a thick metal handle. Boss flicked a switch, and the blade jerked into action, spinning too fast for Sans to see the motion. Boss was grinning, his eyelights glinting with predatory bloodlust. He lined the blade up halfway down Sans's calf, just above the break. Sans was frozen with fear. He didn't even remember to scream.

Chapter Text

"What do you want, Papyrus?"

Papyrus sighed in relief, the arm holding the phone to his skull relaxing.

"I need you to convince Alphys to come out here."

"Why? Can't you do it yourself?"

"She's your collared, so she actually has to listen to you. And remember that conversation we had a while back, about cutting Sans's legs off?" A long sigh came from the phone. Papyrus could practically feel Undyne glaring at him.

"You crazy bastard."

"He's going to dust if you don't convince Alphys to come."

"You owe my one."

"Whatever, fishface." Papyrus hung up, turning to scowl at the bloody mess the blade had caused. He hadn't considered how much more messy a spinning blade would be. At least his gloves were already red.

Added to the mess, there was a pile of dust where Sans's leg had been that would need cleaned up. Dust was always a pain to clean, the particles so tiny it practically embedded itself in whatever it touched. Sans's health hovered at point two. Far too low to amputate the other leg until Alphys healed him. Overall, though, Papyrus was pleased with how the procedure had gone so far. Despite Sans thrashing, the strap on his leg was tight enough that Papyrus still got a clean cut. The wound oozed dark marrow, but Papyrus had managed to stabilise it with what little healing magic he had left. 

Interestingly, there were times when he could heal Sans just fine, and there were times when he could barely push any magic into the wound. Maybe it depended on weather he'd been the one to hurt Sans in the first place. It didn't matter right now. Alphys better get here fast.

When the scientist did finally arrive, she gave Papyrus a death stare that could stop most monsters in their tracks. She was never happy leaving the warmth of Hotland, being cold blooded.

"This better be serious for you to drag me out here."

"It is. Upstairs." Alphys waited until he started up the stairs with another stare, this one marginally less pissed off. She followed behind him, absolutely refusing to turn her back on him, although they both knew he wouldn't dare attack her, not after Undyne made her a pet. Pet wasn't really the right word though, because they were more like a bonded pair than a master and slave. Alphys could also leave the contract at any time, and had a say in what Undyne wanted from her.

Papyrus opened the door, revealing the bloodstained room, Sans still tightly bound to the board in the middle of the floor.

"Holy shit. You really cut his leg off. You're more insane than I am. I'm surprised he didn't dust instantly, with how low his HP is."

"Just heal him. I need to cut the other one off too."

"Right." Alphys checked him, doing a double take. "He's only got point eight now?"

"His soul cracked. It wasn't the first time either, apparently."

"And you still thought he'd survive this?"

"He did."

"You've finally lost it, haven't you?" No reply. "Whatever. I'll bandage his leg, and I'll stay until you've cut the other one off, and bandage that too." Alphys worked quickly and efficiently, her healing magic far stronger than anything Papyrus could do. Soon enough, the first leg was dressed, not carefully, exactly, but even Alphys's sloppy work was better than nothing.

The second leg came off far easier, Sans still unconscious. Alphys treated that too, and Papyrus felt sick delight at seeing the two useless nubs that were once Sans's legs. He looked paler than normal, if possible, and so small, so deliciously broken.

"Ok, I'm leaving. Have fun with whatever sick fantasies are going through your head right now, you freak."

"Yeah, fuck you too Alphys."

"Whatever. If you want him to live, I'd suggest not beating the shit out of him for a few days."

"He'll be fine."

"Sure." And with that, Alphys finished repacking her bag, and walked out the room a little faster than usual.

Chapter Text

The pain woke him. The burning, searing pain that encased both of his legs from the knee downwards. He didn't want to look. Didn't want to see what Boss had done to him. He kept his eyes trained on the door, not daring look down, having no blankets to cover his legs with. What used to be his legs. He could hardly call them legs now. He didn't have to look to know that the bottom of his legs were gone. Boss had sawed them off. 

A noise from outside made Sans sit bolt upright, only to cry out as a fresh wave of pain hit him. He looked down before he could stop himself, and then he couldn't look away. His legs ended mid calf, surprisingly clean bandages wrapped tightly around them. He started to cry, silent tears soon evolving into all out sobbing. He was never going to walk again. He was going to have to crawl, like the dog Boss always said he was.

The door opened. Sans's breath hitched, sending him into a coughing fit, quickly dissolving into a panic attack. It only took Boss opening the door for Sans to freak. He was so pathetic. Eventually, he got his breathing back under control, still shaky.

"Are you done?" Boss asked, almost setting Sans off again. The smaller skeleton forced himself to breathe slowly, finally nodding weakly. "Good. You're staying here today. If you want food, there's a bowl at the bottom of the stairs."

Sans almost started crying again. He was so hungry, but he didn't think he could manage the stairs. Boss turned to go. Before Sans could stop himself, a question slipped out.

"Why?" Boss stopped, looking back and smirking mockingly at him.

"I don't need a reason, Sans," he purred, "I own you, I can do whatever I want to you, and seeing you so helpless-" he chuckled mirthlessly, "It makes me want to break you even more." The door slammed. Sans kept the tears at bay for all of two seconds before he broke down again. He curled up as much as he could, with the pain making every twitch of his leg agony. He couldn't do this. He couldn't. He wasn't strong enough, physically or mentally. He had to. Boss was going to force him to. He had to eat while he could, before Boss decided he didn't deserve food again.

Leaving the bed was one of the hardest things Sans had ever done. He wished he could just teleport, but with his magic reserves as they were, there was no way. So the stairs it was, but when even reaching the door handle was a challenge, Sans didn't know if he could do it. Didn't know if he even wanted to. Only the promise of food kept him moving. Step after painful step, stopping almost every metre to remind himself to breathe. The stairs seemed an infinite distance away.

Sans was at the point of tears when he finally reached the bottom of the stairs. He sat for a long time, sobbing brokenly, trying to find the willpower to move. When he finally did look for the food, he saw a bowl sitting innocently just the other side of the staircase. A bowl with his name printed on the side in his font. A bowl filled with dog food.

This had to be a joke. Boss was going to make Sans eat dog food. He was so hungry. Sans carefully moved to the bowl, picking it up. Resting it on his lap turned out to be a pretty bad idea, though. He put it back down, grabbing one of the biscuits. Swallowing down that broken feeling that once resembled pride, he lifted it to his mouth.

There didn't seem to be much magic in the biscuit at all, the flavour somewhere between bland and disgusting. He chewed mechanically, slowly working through the contents of the bowl. He didn't think about it. When the bowl was empty, Sans moved to the closest corner, nowhere near ready to face the stairs. The dog food churned in his conjured stomach. Unable to pull his legs to his chest, Sans felt exposed. Vulnerable. Weak.

He wished more than ever that he'd killed himself when he had the chance