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Whenever Makarov disappeared for days at a time, everyone knew not to question it. Especially when his disappearance was accompanied by a simple, handwritten note:
"Going on vacation to entertain my pet. Don't make a mess while I'm gone"
Of course, everyone knew about Allen; Makarov's prized possession, the apple of his eye. His loyal pet that never left his side. Some pitied him, others were indifferent to his presence. Many found entertainment in observing the way Makarov never shied away from displaying Allen in front of everyone, showing off what he could do to a man, but they rarely dared to speak about it whether Makarov could hear them or not.
All things considered, Allen hardly left Makarov's side. Them leaving for "vacation" just meant going to a shitty hotel room somewhere where they'd be alone and disgusting with each other.
At least, that was what everyone thought.
They did not know the truth, and Makarov would make sure they never would.
Because, in reality, renting a hotel room was a luxury Allen didn't deserve. In reality, he was good for nothing other than staying by Makarov's side, isolated from the rest of the world while his Master took whatever he wanted from his pet.
Most nights, Allen would sleep on the floor. If he was particularly well behaved, he'd even get a pillow, and on very rare and special occasions, he'd be granted the privilege to sleep in Master's bed. That was reserved for whenever Master was in a good mood, or felt particularly kind, which was almost never the case.
Allen's days were all the same. He'd wake up, forgetting that his leash was tied to the bedpost when he tried to move and something would hold him back. He'd have to wait until Master was awake to untie him, allowing Allen to go do his business in a bush outside before listing his chores for the day.
Allen would make them breakfast, never speaking unless Master demanded him to. He'd eat from his bowl while Makarov made himself comfortable on a couch or by the dining table. He'd never so much as look at Allen, who knew not to demand him to. That didn't mean he never broke the rules, in which case, consequences were inevitable.
Breakfast was sometimes followed up by uncharacteristically gentle affection. Sometimes Allen would get a short peck to the cheek, sometimes Master would play with his overgrown hair. Sometimes he'd bend him over the nearest surface and use him for his pleasure, but Allen knew better than to verbally respond to any of those actions. He was not a person within these walls; he was Makarov's possession.
Whenever Master decided it was time, he'd remind his pet of chores before disappearing to "get work done", locking the door to the cabin. Leaving wasn't an option, of course. Allen wasn't here as Makarov's toy, or pet - he was his prisoner. Doing boring chores all day with no way out. His only form of entertainment was touching himself as Master rarely left him satisfied, but Allen didn't dare. He was too scared of the consequences to even try, no matter how easily he could hide any evidence. Last time he tried, Makarov somehow knew and asked him about it. When he tried to lie, he knew instantly, and made sure to not let such behaviour go unpunished.
He wasn't even allowed to sleep in the bedroom that night. Instead he was tied to the dining table, where he spent all night quietly sobbing, hoping to not wake and anger Master even more.
Allen did not want to relive that experience. Getting Master to finally trust him again and remove that damn cage had taken enough effort. So he only did as he was expected to. He cleaned, fixed Makarov's bed and prepared dinner. All while obediently waiting for Master to return, never daring even the simplest of mistakes, such as taking his collar off. That would be the biggest form of disrespect, and they couldn't have that, of course.
But time passed unusually quickly, and soon it was dark out with no signs of Makarov being home soon. Allen didn't know what to do whenever he was done with chores, so he'd often curl up somewhere and wait for Master, hoping and praying he wasn't in a bad mood.
It was all incredibly dehumanising. Everyone knew Allen was Makarovs pet, but no one was aware of just how serious it was. Ever since Master took him under his wing, Allen had no contact with any of his friends or family members back in America. The only human contact he had was with Makarov, and sometimes other members of the inner circle, but Makarov made sure he never took his generosity for granted. Their little trips far from civilisation were a reminder of how lucky Allen was that Makarov provided for him, and how he should always be thankful to his Master.
But it was all pure torture at the same time. Walking around on all fours while naked - because "dogs don't wear clothes" - and at a constant risk of being bent over, forced to serve his cruel Master was not just humiliating, but also a display of the power Makarov had over him. No one knew where they were and could help Allen out, nor would anyone dare interfere in something Makarov did.
Allen felt alone, humiliated and dehumanised. And knowing how unpredictable Makarov was, they could stay there for weeks, or even months before he'd be able to see another human. He had never shied away from leaving Allen by himself for days without even a goodbye, just for his own amusement. Just for the sight of a panicked, paranoid Allen who thought the only person that somewhat cared for him had abandoned him as well. Perhaps it was slightly messed up that despite the torture, Allen felt so attached to his captor.
But when hours passed and Makarov didn't return, he didn't know what to do. For a few minutes he sat on a chair with a view to the front door, but knowing just how silently Makarov could creep up and appear seemingly out of thin air had pushed him back to the floor. Dogs didn't sit on chairs after all, Allen had learned that lesson many times before. He couldn't let Master catch him misbehave.
But even the sun set and Allen continued silently playing with his collar in a corner of the cabin; one, that was slightly illuminated by the moon, so that Master would surely see him whenever he came back. Allen started getting tired, but he felt so lonely all day that the idea of even the tiniest bit of human interaction was appealing. Too appealing, even.
He looked out of the window on the other side of the room. Nothing was really visible in the pure darkness, but the more he thought of it, the more Allen realised how much he missed the feeling of the cold breeze on his skin. He missed the smell of fresh air and the sound of leaves crunching under his feet.
He had allowed himself to become a prisoner who abandoned his humanity, just to serve a man who treated him like a worthless animal he could kick to the curb whenever he grew sick of him.
Allen hesitated as he got up. Surely, Makarov wouldn't be back anytime soon if he took so long already. Surely he wouldn't notice..
Allen's eyes widened when he twisted the doorknob, realising it was unlocked the entire time. His heart was pounding when he stepped outside, only to be met with a fresh breeze of cool air. How he wished he had something to cover up, but now was not the time to be picky.
He closed the door, careful to make no sound, even though he knew no one was there. Allen didn't know where he was going - Makarov made sure he had no sense of orientation whenever he took him to the cabin - but the further he stepped from the cabin, the more excited he got. This was the only chance he had to leave, and he needed to use it.
For the first few minutes, thoughts wouldn't stop racing through his head. Where was he going anyways? What if he got lost? What if Master got angry with him? But as his steps picked up on pace, he grew more confident. He was a strong man. They wouldn't have hired him for the CIA if that wasn't the case. He would be fine.
Allen froze in his tracks when a flock of birds flew over his head, as if alerted by a sudden presence. He turned around, but was met with only darkness. After breathing a short sigh of relief, he continued walking, now becoming increasingly aware of just how far he had wandered off. He couldn't return and beg Makarov for forgiveness now, even if he wanted to.
He continued his journey, ignoring the stabbing pain in his bare feet. Dogs didn't wear shoes, Makarov had said, and forbade him from wearing any since. It was fine on wooden floors, but painful outside. He tried to stay close to soft mud where it would hurt less than sticks and rocks, but it didn't help much either way.
Allen could've sworn he heard the snapping of a branch behind him, but when he turned around there was nothing. He increasingly got more and more paranoid as his body got colder and colder. His breathing was heavy and he could hardly concentrate on where he was stepping.
A few minutes passed when he stood still, leaning against a tree. Finally he was overtaken by guilt. Makarov was so nice to take care of him, and this was how he was thanking him?! He truly didn't deserve Master's affection and kindness, and he only realised it now that he was sure he'd never be able to return. Allen was shivering from the cold by this point, his feet were sore and probably bruised. He could hardly concentrate on anything other than his irregular breathing pattern.
Allen tried to think of a way to return. Maybe he was lucky and Makarov hadn't noticed his absence yet. Maybe, even if he had, he'd be merciful if Allen admitted to his mistake and begged for forgiveness. He could take punishment - he had taken it before. But the idea of Makarov rejecting him scared him regardless. What if he decided he couldn't have a disobedient pet that pulled such a reckless stunt? That didn't appreciate what Makarov sacrificed to provide for it?
For a brief moment, Allen wanted to cry. Suddenly all his confidence from earlier had faded and he felt pathetic and helpless. He wanted to scream and run back, but if the cold didn't kill him, the wild animals surely would. Maybe it was punishment for doubting his Master. Maybe he deserved it.
But before Allen could properly rationalise any of those thoughts, he became increasingly aware of something staring him down from afar. It was almost invisible in the darkness, but very few things existed that could stare back in blue and green.
Allen's trance was stopped abruptly when he realised what it was. Or rather, who it was.
-"V-Volodya?" Allen had no idea why he tried the nickname other than out of fear, but he could see Makarov's face softening for a brief second. Only when Allen smiled nervously did he furrow his eyebrows again, still unmoving in the distance.
Allen stood there for a moment, considering his options. But as he studied Makarov's face, he realised just how serious this all was. Not only was he angry, but he was also giving him the same face he only ever gave people he was about to kill.
The second Allen saw Makarov's foot move in his direction, all regret flew right out of the window. No matter what he did, he would not get out of this alive. Allen turned to run, the cold, mixed with adrenaline, numbing his pain.
He was breathing through his mouth as he ran through rocks and sticks and mud. Good thing dead people felt no pain.
Makarov was close behind him. Allen could feel him catching up, but still keeping a distance between them. It was as if he did it intentionally, all with the sole purpose of extending Allen's suffering.
It wasn't long until Allen got lost in the dark, tripping over some branches, that he finally caught up. Makarov practically threw himself on top of him, pulling a pained groan out of Allen.
-"Sir, please-"
-"Is this how you behave?", Makarov hissed, forcing Allen up to his knees. An arm was wrapped around his neck while the other was on his lower stomach. Allen recognised the fabric of his jacket and the leather gloves Makarov wore. This was perhaps the last time he'd have the privilege of touching them.
-"N-No Master I-"
-"I left you for not even a day-" Allen gasped for air when Makarov clenched his arm, choking him further. "-And you can't even listen to me for that long? You think you can fucking run from me?!"
-"I'm sorry, I'm sorry-", Allen tried to cry, but his throat was hoarse from the cold and the lack of air in his lungs. Cruelly, he was only allowing him to breathe enough to keep him alive, for death was a kinder fate than what Makarov had in store.
-"You'll be sorry alright"
Allen gasped for air when he finally let go, just for his face to be pushed into the mud. He could hardly register when Makarov's gloved hands were placed on his shoulders, slowly tracing over his back to his hips. Only when a finger was pressed to his hole did he realise what was going on.
-"N-No, please-"
-"Shut up" Makarov emphasised his words by delivering a slap on both of Allen's asscheeks, making him groan and gasp. "This is the last fucking time I'm letting you disobey me like that. I should never have spoiled you the way I did"
-"I'm sorry, please, don't-" Allen cried out in pain when more rough slaps were delivered to his thighs. The cold air only worsened the sharp sting.
-"You won't need that anymore" Makarov reached over to remove the collar. Allen sobbed into the dirt, desperately trying to fight back but his body was too exhausted and weak. "I'll have to find myself a new pet", Makarov said as he tossed the collar to the side. "One that will appreciate and respect it's position, unlike you"
-"What?!" Allen's eyes widened. Was he seriously going to replace him? He felt even more naked than before with the collar gone - the only sign of ownership Makarov had over him - The only sign that he wanted Allen as his pet. "You can't do this, Sir, please..!"
-"Oh yes I can" Makarov spoke back cruelly, leaning over to keep Allen's hands pinned to the ground - not that he could move much anyways. "And I will"
Allen was crying, desperately attempting to keep his legs closed, but Makarov wouldn't let him. When he tried wriggling in his grip, he suddenly felt a cold barrel pressed against his temple.
-"You can't be.."
-"Oh I'm serious" Makarov roughly held him by the nape. "Told you you'll be sorry"
-"I-I can make up for it..!", Allen continued pleading, sobbing into the mud beneath him. "Please, Master, don't.. I-I'll do anything..!"
-"Fuck, do you ever shut up?" Makarov moved his head further into the mud, pulling groans of pain out of his pet.
Allen could only whine and cry as he felt the barrel move to his nape as Makarov put his other hand on his ass, spreading his cheeks ever so slightly. He could barely feel the way he spat on his hole, not even bothering with preparation. Allen vaguely felt his rim being breached before Makarov started moving, snapping his hips at a merciless pace.
He sobbed and cried and begged, unable to free himself even if he tried. Allen's entire body was numb, even his soft cock was uselessly bouncing between his legs as Makarov fucked him without abandon. He felt awful and helpless. He couldn't even scream, for no one would hear him. Makarov had the power over his life and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it but wait, hope, pray for it to stop.
-"Please..", he cried and begged. "Please, I will do anything, Sir, please forgive me.."
-"You're so pretty when you cry, mutt" Makarov commented, grabbing his soft cock and jerking it in time with his thrusts. "Such a shame it needed to end like that.. if only you had behaved"
-"I'll behave- I'll behave I promise.." There was not a gram of hope left in his voice. The cold barrel of the gun was only an afterthought at this point.
-"I bet you will"
Makarov put the gun away, only to grab Allen's overgrown hair. He pulled him up, causing him to arch his back. Before he knew it, he let go and two gloved fingers were inside his mouth, causing him to choke.
-"A real shame, isn't it?" Makarov shifted so Allen could see him in his peripheral vision, all while not stopping his thrusts. "A pretty mutt like you.."
He tried to cry, he wanted to scream, but his throat was tied from all the exhaustion and pain, as well as the fingers in his mouth. There was spit running down his lips and chin, over Master's expensive gloves. Makarov didn't care of course, only using his body for his own pleasure. When Allen showed no sign of an erection, he moved his hand from his cock to his chest, squishing his pecs and twisting his nipples.
-"I was just waiting for you to do something stupid" Makarov whispered in his ear. "Left the door open, hoping you'd be smart"
Allen's breath hitched. Of course, it was all a trap. How could he be so stupid?! What he deserved was beyond punishment - Makarov was right in being angry and disappointed with him. He was right in leaving him there to die. He couldn't even be good enough to keep his gloves clean.
Makarov stood still for a moment before pulling out. Allen couldn't even feel his legs when he was grabbed and flipped over to his back. He could vaguely see his bruised and bloody knees in the darkness. For once he was grateful for the cold.
An entire half of his face was covered in mud, and now his hair was as well. Makarov bent Allens legs by pressing them into his chest before thrusting back into his loose hole. Allen couldn't help but cry at the sight, knowing he was at Makarovs mercy.
-"Stop, no..", he begged. "Please stop.."
-"Why should I? The point of punishment isn't that you enjoy it, is it?"
Allen was too weak to even hide his face in his forearm to shut down his cries. Sharp sticks and rocks dug into his back, his knees were bleeding and his head throbbed with every rough snap of Makarovs hips. He tried to bite his lip, shut himself up, but was grabbed by the jaw instead. Makarov forced his mouth open before spitting in his face, missing his mouth by only millimeters. He forced the spit into his mouth by brushing it with his thumb and pushing it down Allen's throat, making him gag in disgust and humiliation.
-"That's what you fucking get", Makarov groaned, slapping his thighs as his thrusts got more shallow. "Disobedient, ungrateful mutt"
-"I'm so sorry" Allen whined. "I'm so fucking sorry Sir..!"
Makarov stopped for a brief second, emptying his load deep in Allen's hole. Allen cried at the feeling inside his stomach. His legs gave up completely the second Makarov pulled out, jerking his cock over Allen's bruised, icy body. Whatever cum was left, Makarov used to mark his stomach.
-"Useless and disgusting", he mumbled. "Hopefully my next pet will be more obedient than you"
-"Master..", Allen watched him get up, fixing his pants. He weakly grabbed him by the leg. "Sir, please.. "
-"Let go, disgusting dog", Makarov shook him off roughly. "Don't you get it? I don't need you"
-"Don't-"
-"If you're lucky, someone might find you here" He turned, slowly walking back to where he came from. "But I seriously doubt it. You're useless, they won't be able to help you even if they tried"
-"Don't, Sir, please don't-", he tried to plead, weakly reaching for Makarov as he disappeared in the darkness. Allen finally broke down, feeling dirty and used. His eyes were burning with tears as the sound of crunching leaves faded with each step Makarov took. He was going to leave him. No one would ever want him like this, bruised and disgusting with tears, cum and mud.
-"Don't leave me", he sobbed. "Please forgive me, please.."
-"Holy shit" Allen was motionless as he was wrapped into a warm blanket. His entire body seemed to be on fire, but he was fine otherwise. "You're a mess"
-"I wonder who's fault that is", Allen whined as Makarov picked him up, slowly carrying him back to the cabin.
-"I didn't go too hard on you, did I?", he asked carefully.
-"No, just fine", Allen smiled weakly. "But you did scare me when you walked off"
-"You know I was just grabbing the blanket", he rolled his eyes. "I could never leave my Osya to be found by someone else"
-"Mhm.." Allen pressed a weak kiss against Makarov's arm. "I had no doubts there"
In a way, Allen felt stupid for not realising how close he stayed to the cabin the entire time. He must have walked in circles without noticing, but perhaps it was subconscious so Makarov would find him.
-"Bath or dinner first?"
-"Bath", Allen mumbled. "I feel disgusting"
-"You are disgusting" Makarov chuckled, earning himself an offended stare.
-"What about the collar?" Allen said suddenly.
-"Oh, that old thing?" He carefully opened the door to the cabin. "You need a new one. That one was getting boring"
Allen sighed. "You're unbelievable"