Chapter 9:

  Aaron sat obediently on the closed lid of the toilet seat, his teeth chattering as the biting coldness of the concrete nipped at his toes and radiated, making shivers glide up his spine.

"You're gonna ask for a bath everyday, love, I promise. Nothing's better than feeling fresh," Daddy said over his shoulder as he filled the white porcelain tub. Smiling, he turned to his baby and reached forward to pull his sweater off.

Aaron cringed at the thought and squirmed at the touch. He'd begun jerking one shoulder back when Daddy's notorious glare warned him to freeze in place. So he allowed Daddy to undress him, and he was left with nothing but a pull-up on, skin bare and exposed.

Faintly visible steam wafted up the waters in the tub. Daddy turned and dipped a finger for proper evaluation, smiling at the perfected warmth. "Come on, baby."

  Daddy returned to Aaron and reached out to remove the pull-up, but Aaron perched at the edge of the toilet away from him, the revulsed sheen in his eyes wordlessly displaying the disapproval. But the captor ignored him, and instead offered (another) glare that quickly eliminated the need for a verbal threat. Aaron could see the warning woven through the deep brown of his eyes. He knew better than to mess further.

So Aaron reluctantly allowed Daddy to remove it, and the moment it happened, the embarrassment spread fast like fire across his neck and cheeks with splotches of deep red. His throat tightened, chest constricting hard enough to break his ribs.

Daddy had practically seen everything during the pull-up change, but this time was different; he was going to stay exposed for a prolonged period. Aaron carefully assessed Daddy, whose face was still set in a stern yet somehow soft expression, apparently unfazed by the situation. He thankfully wasn't looking at places he wasn't supposed to be looking at—almost like it was normal for him to see Aaron completely undressed. Like it should be between any normal parent and his child.

  And it was normal for Daddy. He wasn't focusing on the fact that his baby was undressed, because it didn't matter. The important thing for him at that moment was that he needed to bathe Aaron, and he really wanted him to enjoy it.

   Soon enough Aaron found himself in the tub right through the perfectly warm waters around him. He'd braced himself for the heat and he'd remained visibly tense until the captor submerged him, but as soon as he'd gotten in two things made it slightly better. Firstly, the water reached up to his mid-back, so his privates were hidden and he naturally felt a little less uncomfortable. Secondly, the water wasn't steaming hot; it was perfectly warm and felt undeniably good against his sore muscles and achy joints.

The warmth was foreign. He'd always showered with cold water.

  Daddy had gone to shuffle through the bathroom cabinet and now came back, a couple of bath toys gathered in his hands: a plastic dolphin, boat, and some other things that Aaron didn't even bother to look at.

Daddy dropped them into the tub, then looked back at his baby, as if expecting him to express some sort of excitement. "You can play with these while I wash your hair, alright, love?"

  Aaron stared with nervous eyes as Daddy filled a small plastic pitcher with the warm water, then turned back to him, gesturing him to tip his head back. Aaron didn't move or comply, just remaining frozen instead with the effect of the discomfort that exploded in his gut. He didn't want that psychopath washing his hair or touching him at all.

"I'm still waiting, baby. Come on," Daddy demanded, a little less patient than he had sounded before. It was the familiar edge in his voice that snapped Aaron out of his trance and reminded him of just how important it was to keep the captors content, especially Daddy.

So Aaron tipped his head back as ordered, swallowing past the lump in his throat. Subconsciously, his shoulder jerked forwards slightly the moment Daddy poured the water over his head, soaking his hair.

The tiny reaction didn't go unnoticed. Daddy chuckled quietly as he turned over to fetch the shampoo, a good quality nourishing one because his baby only deserved the best. "Baby, relax. Why so tense? It won't hurt. Just gonna wash your hair. It'll feel good."

Aaron could count a thousand reasons for being tense at the moment but not a single one for him to relax. He'd never even liked getting his hair washed at the hairdresser because that was how far his touch aversion had gone. Let alone having a psychopath doing it.

Daddy eyed Aaron piteously as he poured the shampoo onto his palm. His black hair was naturally soft and silky, and Daddy was sure that with a little bit of proper care, it would regain its luster: that healthy shine it lost with how poorly his baby had been treated previously.

But now it's over, baby, Daddy thought. These bad days are over.

The captor lathered the shampoo into Aaron's hair, fingers skillfully moving through the messy strands, tips gently running along his scalp. Firm yet gentle. Perfect pressure. Daddy smiled as he waited for his baby to relax into his touch.

But Aaron didn't like it or find it remotely relaxing. He would never—not like this, not in this situation, and sure as hell not with this psycho doing it. He just sat there, uncomfortable, biting back the instinct to thrash because he knew it'd be pointless, the tension in his body almost visible. Just desperately waiting for it to end.

Daddy frowned as he continued, a little disappointed that his baby didn't seem to like it. How humble was he, that he didn't even like being pampered? "Doesn't it feel good, baby? The shampoo has honey in it, too. Don't you like honey?"

  Aaron actually liked honey, but that wasn't the point. He'd say: yeah, it feels amazing. I've been waiting all my life for a goddamn psycho to wash my hair. But he swallowed the words and maintained the silence because he knew it wasn't the time for sarcasm.

  When Daddy made sure that all shampoo had been rubbed into his baby's scalp properly, he rinsed his hair again. Aaron squinted, trying to shield his eyes from potential drops of shampoo accidentally trickling to them.

What he didn't know was that Daddy wouldn't allow a single drop to approach his eyes—he was paying full attention, doing his job with care and delicacy because this was his baby, and if he didn't treat his baby right, then who would?

"Alright." Daddy turned to get a cloth and body gel. "Now let's wash your body, baby."

  Aaron had been aware this was coming at one point, but now as he watched the purple gel swirl down onto the cloth meant to stroll along his skin, he realized how badly he didn't want Daddy washing his body.

The captor brought the soaked cloth towards Aaron's chest, but Aaron moved away by instinct and his back hit the cold porcelain of the back of the tub, eyes pleading for an inch of privacy.

Swallowing, Aaron tried, "Can I like, wash myself, please?" Before the captor could speak, he continued, voice low and deceitfully earnest, "Because washing my hair must've been tiring for you. I'll- I'll wash my body now?"

"Silly, Aaron. You can't wash yourself. I have to do it. And washing your hair isn't exhausting. I'll do it for as long as you want if you like it."

Daddy neared the washcloth again, but Aaron leant away from it instinctively and pushed his hand, reflexes winning the battle with his senses. Not only was it going to be disturbing, but painful on top; the bruises were still fresh, and he was sure Daddy wouldn't be careful around them.

Daddy sighed, eyelids fluttering closed as his shoulders lifted and dropped in what seemed to be an attempt to remain calm. Why couldn't his baby just enjoy the bath?

Aaron had realized by then that he shouldn't have done that, and he watched with fear settled deep in his wide eyes as Daddy moved back to the cabinets and shuffled through. The anxiety of anticipation had Aaron's heart racing, his ribs shaking along to the rhythm. What was he looking for?

  Daddy came back seconds later, something held behind his back. Aaron couldn't move his eyes away for some reason.

"Baby, I don't want to be mean, but I've had enough with the disobedience," Daddy warned, his voice a creepy mix of calm and angry, in a way that had goosebumps sneaking up Aaron's arms. Daddy brought the ambiguous object forward, and even though its particular purpose was still vague, Aaron's face paled, eyes dilating. It was an injection, its needle distinctly long and frightening. "If I give you this, you won't feel your legs and arms anymore. I really don't like using it, but if it will make it easier for both of us, then I won't hesitate."

  Aaron didn't even contemplate whether such a drug really existed or not, because he knew it was dangerous to protest at that moment. He'd rather die than actually lose control of his limbs and become forcibly submissive to these psychopaths. Too risky, he thought. Way too risky.

So Aaron nodded, hands shaking beneath the water that rippled with the effect, frail spine chilling to an icy rod even with the surrounding warmth. He could feel the distinct numbness and lightness in his chest, right where his heart thumped against his ribcage. Was that why Leo had warned him to be good?

Daddy smiled softly again and put the injection aside. "Good boy. Now let me wash you."

  For the sake of his limbs, Aaron stayed still, completely still. He watched Daddy bring the washcloth forwards and rub it across his collarbones and chest.

In this area, there weren't any bruises so Daddy gave himself the freedom to scrub thoroughly. When he reached Aaron's abdomen, though, he took a second to prob the horrible bruises. His eyes burnt with contempt as he gently maneuvered the cloth around, avoiding the raw splotches of black and blue.

It made Daddy's heart shatter, how poorly his baby had been treated. Aaron deserved a better life, one filled with protection and love. He felt so bad for scaring him with the injection, but he really wanted him to stop moving and just allow the bath to happen.

  Aaron braced himself for the pain. His stomach had been his father's favorite place to punch so it was bruised the most, and he was sure Daddy would hurt him at one point.

Daddy led the washcloth around his baby's abdomen, decreasing pressure over the bruises and careful not to trigger pain at all. It surprised Aaron, the gentleness, but that didn't mean he liked it.

Aaron exhaled shakily. Sitting like this in a tub whilst a psychopath bathed him, dreading every second, he almost contemplated screaming aloud and running away. But he didn't let himself succumb. The bath was ending soon. Halfway through already, he reminded himself. Stay strong.

  Daddy moved the cloth around Aaron's waist and over to his back. As he washed it, pressing the cloth gently harder where he felt the muscles were tight, he tried not to focus on the scars and how he'd gotten them. Tried not to imagine his baby getting whipped. Daddy cringed when he went over Aaron's shoulder blades, which protruded through his skin a lot more than they should.

The muscles of Aaron's back enjoyed the slight pressure and the heat, but his mind screamed in protest. He couldn't enjoy the process, at least not when he was kidnapped, when most of his privacy had been torn and disregarded. He desperately wanted the bath to end. He couldn't last longer. The entire situation was horrible, but the vulnerable state he was currently in was just over the top—too torturous for his heart to handle.

  Daddy finished his upper body then moved to his thighs, and worked his way all through that area until he was left with his feet. He was surprised that Aaron didn't fuss about some parts, and it was then that he realized how badly he must've scared him with the injection. His poor baby.

It wasn't long before Daddy was done, and he rinsed his body a finally time. "All done, love, let's get out," he said, carefully picking Aaron up and placing him in the middle of the bathroom. Drops of water trickled down Aaron's body and dripped onto the floor. He stayed still, afraid of accidentally disobeying, but still so relieved that the bath was over.

"Let's put the pull-up on first, do you want that?" Daddy asked. Aaron nodded vehemently, damp hair flopping against his forehead. Anything to cover himself. Daddy brought a towel and quickly dried his baby's lower region, spreading a mat onto the floor afterwards and gesturing him to lie down.

Aaron did as told, every bit of him longing to be less exposed. He never thought he'd actually want that pull-up on. Daddy did quick work of taping it on, then pulled his baby back to his feet.

  Daddy continued drying his body after he'd put the pull-up on, and it was moments like these that Aaron innerly questioned those people's intentions. Did Daddy decide to put the pull-up on first, because he knew Aaron was uncomfortable? And did he even care at all? All the captors' behavior made absolutely no sense to Aaron, but then again, nothing really did at this point.

Daddy curled the towel around Aaron's slender shoulders when he finished drying his body. He smiled at his baby, at how cute he looked: wet hair against his forehead and small body wrapped up so snugly. He lifted him, cradling him in his arms, and walked out of the bathroom and headed to the nursery.

  Daddy seated Aaron on the changing table, leaving his legs to hang down the edge. Mommy peeked into the room from where she'd been standing at the threshold, both edges of her mouth pulled up as she gazed at her baby.

Mommy stepped into the room and stood right in front of Aaron, then took a clean towel from Daddy and gently began drying his hair. It was like her lips couldn't help but be formed into a soft smile as she did, because taking care of her baby was just second to nature for her. Who wouldn't love to take care of a boy so beautiful?

Sometimes, Mommy was glad he'd had no one to take care of him. She wouldn't want other people doing it anyway. Aaron was her baby, only hers to love. Hers to touch. Mommy grimaced at a recollection but quickly brushed it off.

  Aaron noticed the passion that shined through Mommy's green eyes—like she was actually enjoying it. Enjoying drying his hair, as minor and insignificant as it was. He never thought that he'd ever encounter someone who so willingly would want to take care of him, and now that he did, he found it disturbing.

  When Mommy finished drying Aaron's hair, she put the towel aside and grabbed a brush, gently easing out any knots with it, careful not to tug too hard or accidentally yank his head. She formed it so that his fringe was messily directed to the side like a wave, one small strand falling down to his forehead. Cradling his face between her palms, she leant towards him, pressing her face into the top of his head, eyelids fluttering closed as she inhaled her baby's scent.

  When she pulled back, Aaron caught that passionate look again, the utter admiration and love, the same things he thought he'd never receive and decided he'd rather not. Aaron really didn't long for any of that. At least not anymore. As he'd grown, the yearning for love and affection had died. He couldn't remember the last time he'd gotten or even wanted a proper hug from any (sane) person.

"All done, love. Just need to put you in some clothes now to keep you warm," Mommy said, bending down to reach for something. "But of course not before we finish this."

  Aaron stared at what her slim fingers clutched with horrified eyes, breath hitching inconspicuously. Just when he thought that the worst part was over, just when he thought that he'd managed to go through the most disturbing process, there turned out to be something unpredictably worse. He felt unsettling movement bubble deep in the pit of his stomach, bile rising up his throat but failing to reach high enough, filling his mouth with the revolting acidity.

He was so close to establishing that he'd much rather be physically abused.

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what do you think she's gonna do?

tysm for reading/voting/commenting ❤️