Dont read this, this is just stories I want to read

Throwing a Bone Pt13 - Breaking Him Softly

George squeezed his teary eyes shut, as he waited for the expected blow, stab, or neck snap. After waiting for several agonizing minutes, he hesitantly took his face out of his hands, working up the courage to face his master.

In the dark, George couldn’t read his facial expression, but his stern silence and posture were enough to make him shrink back down into the dirt. He flinched at Dream’s sudden movement and braced himself for the pain, but it never came.

Instead, he felt skillful hands on his ankle, tinkering with the taut snare. After a few minutes, George heard a small click and the tension around the noose loosen. The steel noose was quickly pulled off of his swollen and irritated ankle, making George sigh slightly in relief.

His relief was short-lived however as he felt Dream pick him up and throw him over his shoulders. Normally, George would fight, kick, spit, and holler, but this time, he remained limp, drained all his strength and spirit.

Dream pointed a flashlight forward his free hand, illuminating the trail in front of him as he walked steadfastly. He slowed down ever so slightly when he felt the moist sensation of tears stain his shirt. He also heard the sound of soft, pitiful sobbing.

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When they arrived home, Dream took his escaped pet straight to the bathroom, set him on the edge of the tub, and began to fill it with warm water.

As he waited for the tub to fill up, Dream got out the first aid kit and began to tend to George’s wounds.

George flinched when Dream began to pick out the embedded thorns and rocks from his feet and body, the irritated flesh bleeding every time Dream pulled one out. George let out a loud hiss of pain when Dream began to dab the wounds with rubbing alcohol and began squeezing the corners of the counter.

Tears ran down George’s cheeks as Dream began to rub the deep, bleeding cut around his ankle. He bit his lip and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to endure the fire like burning.

George thought he was hallucinating when he felt a hand gently wrap around his and begin to gently stroke it. George was baffled at Dream’s sudden affection. He could see the cuts and bruises left on his forehead from the vase. Surely he remembered that. Surely he was fuming about his puppy suddenly attacking him. Surely he wanted to beat him to a bloody pulp for that.

But he didn’t…

Instead, he finished up cleaning his injuries, and then gently lowered him into the warm bath. Instead of using the brush to clean him, Dream opted to just use the rag, as not to irate George’s wounds further.

George began to relax slightly as Dream massaged his scalp with shampoo and conditioner, his hair having all of the dirt and grime expelled from it. By the time Dream had fully rinsed all the product from his pet’s hair, the tub began to cloud with filth.

Dream pulled the plug, letting the water drain before wrapping a large fluffy towel around his pet and hoisting him out of the tub, and carrying him to his bedroom.

As George was set on the edge of the bed, Dream retrieved a roll of gauze bandages and began to wrap it around George’s injured ankle.

When he finished wrapping the wound, Dream placed a tender, loving kiss on it.

“You worried me sick, Darling.”

George was still absolutely bewildered by what was happening. If Dream didn’t kill him on the spot, he was surely expecting him to savagely beat or punish him, but this was quite the opposite. He was being tender and caring, despite everything George had done. He was even...worried about him.