I'll Make You Mine

Behavior Modification: Nightmare

(My apologies for being one day late with this. I had to discard and rewrite a ton of scenes because I didn't like them. All of the chapters are mostly pre-written and then I edit and there was little rewriting, but this one? A good 3/4 of it was started over. And then there was some redone parts after that. There's only one other chapter like this but hopefully that one ends up easier. Again, super sorry.)

(Content warnings: Torture, domestic abuse, starvation for weight loss, humiliation, conditioning, sensory deprivation, coercion, victim blaming, sort of ableism, dubcon kissing, noncon body modification, and branding.)

Happy and free were the last things Ink would be.

Nightmare renovated one of the empty rooms to become Ink's training space. It was in one of the castle towers, the one with the largest glass window looking into the forest. His vials were sealed away in a glass case. They lay in a straight line and his sash lay below it. In the back of the room was a large desk, similar to the one he had in his office.

But it also had torture equipment resting on the shelves. Restraints, gags, poisons, sedatives, a massive bucket of water, and a shock collar. He collected them from the torture room in the dungeon, and he couldn't wait to use them. He hoped Ink was smart enough that he wouldn't need to use it, as fun as a water-electricity combination would be. He made sure to have nothing that could leave a physical mark. At least a noticeable one. The items currently hung on the wall as decorations, but they were easy to remove.

Nightmare stepped back and admired his work. Perfect. It was all perfect. He took the pocket watch out of his pocket and flipped it open. He was a minute ahead of schedule. Ink would be in here any second. He couldn't wait to see his reaction.

It only took a few moments. Ink walked in and his eye lights went to the torture tools. He gulped and looked straight ahead at Nightmare.

Nightmare sat at the large desk and waved Ink over. He gestured at the chair with his tendril. "Greetings, my little doll. Sit down. Are you prepared for your first set of lessons?"

"Sure," Ink said. Nightmare could sense the nervousness in his aura. "I guess so. What are we doing exactly? You said you would make me 'perfect', so . . . are you going to teach me how to be a sophisticated aristocrat or something?"

"Mm, close. Let me give you a run down." Nightmare opened a drawer and removed his list. "We'll start simple and work our way up to complete subordination. I know it will be challenging, so I'll do my best to be gentle and help you along the way. The first thing you will learn is how to fix your posture, walk, kneel-"

"Kneel?" Ink interrupted. "Why do I have to kneel?"

Nightmare sighed, irritated that he talked out of turn.The only reason he didn't hit him at that moment was that he wasn't in the mood. Well, now that he considered it, only his face couldn't be bruised. Along with anything sleeves, gloves, and stockings failed to hide. It would throw his plan off. Nightmare cleared his throat. "We need to talk about how rude it is to interrupt someone. Nevertheless, while this is happening, I will teach you to obey hand signals. I hope you are starting to learn that if I raise my right hand, I expect you to fall silent. So when I make this signal," he tapped his middle finger, pointer finger, and thumb together, "you will kneel. Immediately. You will allow me to do whatever I want with you without an ounce of resistance. I don't even want you to think. It will help you learn to rely on me for everything."

Ink scrunched his eye sockets and tried to protest, only for Nightmare to raise his hand. Hesitantly, he closed his mouth.

"You do know! Excellent work. Now, let's return to what I was saying earlier. Once your stance is proper, we'll fix your speech pattern. No more slang, swears, jokes, or sarcasm. It's immature. You'll replace those traits with polite mannerisms. You'll learn a new fighting style with your parasol. Your personality is also unappealing. We are going to change it so you become more . . . gentle and sweet. But only to me. When you're in battle, you'll become a ruthless monster. And, I'm uncertain if it's possible, but perhaps we could do something about your face. I've heard cosmetic skeleton surgery is possible but I've never seen it in person . . ." Ironic, now Nightmare was the one rambling. He had so many plans to make him the perfect weapon.