A Lion's Healing Love

by Draugr & Element

Chapter 7: Don't Rage Over Spilled Milk

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This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License

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"Well, let's see, come on..." Zeblend said, ensuring Randall followed him into the kitchen. He found the chores list, and read down it until he came to a line they hadn't completed yet.

"Vacuuming. You know where it is?"

"Yeah! And I know how to do it, too, Kana showed me!" Randall replied, already protesting a question he was sure was coming. He began walking off to the closet where it was stored.

"Alright, alright, you can show me - just don't get ahead of yourself. Remember, you're starting from scratch." Zeblend sighed, and rubbed his temples. This was not going to be easy - watching the wolf's every move, to make sure he didn't do anything stupid. But in his master's condition, the less stress the lion had to go through, the better.

Randall pulled everything out (somehow managing to not have the closet's entire contents fall on his head) and get it plugged in.

"It's easy, watch me," he said, as though he were the one instructing the stallion. The vacuum was fairly large, and not exactly designed with a wolf barely five feet in stature in mind, but he managed. He bumped into the furniture rather haphazardly sometimes, but avoided doing any damage or knocking anything down. As time went on, and nothing bad happened, and he didn't screw anything up, he got a little less clumsy - and in much better spirits. He was actually doing something useful, and almost by himself, too!

Zeblend watched him work, avoiding interfering. He could see how much this was helping the wolf's self-esteem - so he didn't say anything when he missed a small spot here and there.

When he was done, and Randall had put the vacuum back away, he gave him a small scratch behind the ear. "Good boy, Randall, that was a great job. I'll see if Master will let you do that on your own tomorrow, without me watching."

Randall wagged his tail. Maybe it was just because he was a canine, but, hearing "good boy" and getting scratched behind the ear always made him feel much better. And it helped, too, hearing that he'd done a good enough job to be trusted to do something on his own.

"What's next?" he said, eager to improve upon the day.

"Master wanted the tub cleaned out in the master bathroom."

"I'll get a rag from the closet!" Randall said.

The duo both went upstairs, although Randall's enthusiasm dampened a little as they approached the master bedroom. He wasn't so much scared of Georgio as he was the lion's disapproval.

"Master?" Zeblend asked, "Randall and I are going to clean the tub out, is that alright?"

"Hmm?" Georgio said, looking up from a book. "Umm...oh, yes, yes, alright. Go ahead. But, tonight, I think Randall and I will take a nice bath, you can join us if you like.

Zeblend blushed, and smiled. "Yes, Master, I'd love to...if Randall is okay with it, that is."

Randall's ears flushed. He didn't like the idea at all, but didn't want to say no, either. Zeblend seemed like such a nice fur, but...damn, why couldn't he just get over it? Something in the wolf's head just made it so infuriatingly hard to trust anybody. He bit his lower lip, not sure what to say for a few moments. Finally he thought of something that made the choice easier for him - Zeblend was now his Alpha, and that meant he should submit to what he wanted.

"I-It's...it's okay, Alpha..." he said quietly.

Georgio nodded. "When you get that done, prepare dinner."

"Yes, Master, is there anything in particular you'd like?"

"Surprise me with what you can find. We need to go shopping tomorrow, I think - plus Randall could really use the socialization." The stallion nodded, then went into the bathroom with Randall in tow.

"Alright, Randall, let's scrub this sucker hard."

Randall nodded, glad to be given a task to take his mind off things. It wasn't an easy job, but it was something he could set his mind do, and see the results right in front of him, so in the end, he enjoyed it. However, about halfway through the job, Zeblend noticed the wolf's vigor had lessened a bit.

"Randall, is something wrong?"

"Master...master will be coming with us to shop, right?" he asked. Clearly he'd been brooding on that while. "I don't want anything to happen to him..."

"Of course he will...though I'm not sure who will be driving. Maybe a neighbor."

"I think I should drive him...I know how!" Of course, "I know how!" really meant that Randall had watched his previous masters drive and thought it looked quite easy.

Zeblend looked at him and shook his head. "Not a damned chance in hell. I can drive, though I don't have the legal endorsement - no blue line in my collar. If Master sits in front, though, it shouldn't be an issue."

Randall fingered his own collar, rolling his paw around it and giving it a gentle tug. "I want a blue line in my collar.." he said covetously. He was clearly thinking about this a great deal.

Zeblend got down very close to the wolf's muzzle and looked him straight in the eyes. "If you even sit in the driver's seat I will personally spank your rump so hard you won't be able to sit for days, do you understand me? You could very well kill someone in a car, or get killed, or kill others in the car, like Master. Understand? So put whatever thoughts of that little blue line you have right out of your little head, got it?"

Randall whimped a bit, averted his eyes, and dropped his head, flattening his ears to either side. "I can drive..." he mumbled, a little rebelliously, although the conviction he'd said that with before was gone - the thought of Master getting killed had driven any daydreaming right out of his head.

Zeblend almost said something, but he could tell he'd gotten through to the wolf - further scolding would only scare the poor creature.

"Good boy. If Master permits it, I could teach you, or he could, and MAYBE you might be allowed to earn that stripe - but don't be a child about it, and let it go for now, okay? We have to make dinner."

"I already said I know how..." Randall pouted inaudibly, but let the matter drop after that. He was done brooding by the time they returned to the kitchen - thoughts of food were already taking over. "Let's do something really fancy and hard to make. You said you were a chef, right?"

"Well, technically, I used to be. My culinary degree was pulled when I got this thing welded to my neck, but, yeah, I know my way around the kitchen. We'll make something simple but elegant - I think we're all getting hungry, and I know you too well to believe you have the patience to wait a couple hours for dinner."

"Yeah, I am pretty hungry..."

"Okay, well, do you know how to peel potatoes?"

Randall looked up and furrowed his eyebrows. "I can try..." he said. "I mean, yes, yes! Yes I can!" he added very quickly, afraid that Zeblend might not let him help.

Unfortunately for Randall, that was exactly what he was going to be doing. Zeblend rolled his eyes and pointed to a chair. "Sit! Don't you dare budge from that seat for a second. Don't touch anything. Don't do anything. You're going to watch tonight, and that's it. No helping."

Randall shot over to the seat as quick as could be, keeping his head down, feeling bad about his slip of the tongue. He gripped the sides of the chair with his paws to keep them from messing around with anything. He leaned forward excessively though, occasionally making a whimpering or whining sound - very much wanting to leave the chair.

Zeblend, meanwhile, had just finished peeling the potatoes when Randall couldn't help it anymore.

"Can I pleeeeeeeeease help?" he said, struggling to stay put. "I won't do anything bad, I promise!"

"No!" he said, with a stern look. "If you don't know how to do something, I'll teach you it later, but as of right now, Master is very hungry and he comes first." He turned his back without giving Randall another glance, continuing his work. He diced potatoes, pulled some leftover meat from the fridge, chopped some vegetables, added some spices without even so much glancing at a recipe. He added some water, threw it all in a pot, on the oven, and started stirring.

"You want to help?" Zeblend asked, about five minutes later. "Get three glasses of milk ready."

Randall shot up almost instantly from the chair and went over to the refrigerator when asked to get the drinks ready. The wolf wasn't too happy that such a simple task was delegated to him - he knew he was capable of more, but he started to pour three glasses anyway. The jug of milk was brand new, so it was quite full and heavy. Randall was being very careful not to spill anything. He almost did, so he stopped, getting a step stool to give himself better leverage. He started pouring the milk again, this time finding it much easier - unfortunately, that sense of ease was exactly what caused him to relax too much for his own good.

"See, Alpha, I can do thi-whhhoooaohh!" he yelled, as the jug slipped from his paws - dropping straight to the floor and beginning to spill its contents.

"FUCK!" Randall shouted, dropping to the ground, and clambering to upright the jug. He was so frantic it slipped out of his grip a few times before he managed to get anything - saving less than a quarter of what had been in it before it spilled.

"Dammit! Every fucking time!" he screamed, kicking the floor cabinet door and leaving quite a noticeable mark in it. He swiped his arm across the countertop, knocking the fortunately plastic drinking glasses to the floor, spilling even more milk, before storming off to the entryway, leaving milk footprints behind him. He sat down in the corner, balling his fits up, clenching his muscles, trying not to do anything else destructive.

Zeblend had watched the whole debacle - unable to intervene as he was in a particularly delicate part of the recipe. When he was done, however, he set the soup to simmer and followed Randall out to the entryway, nostrils flaring. He grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, slapped his muzzle, and pinned him to the wall, snorting.

Randall yelped, absolutely terrified, and was only vaguely aware of a warm trickle running down his leg. His muzzle opened and shut wordlessly, trying to get some words out, but nothing happened.

"NOW YOU LISTEN TO ME! You will NOT, I repeat, NOT, act like a spoiled child with me! Do you understand? You are an ADULT and will handle problems like one, and not have a damn hissy fit like a BABY! If you ever want to do something in that kitchen again you WILL check that anger NOW, or so help me I'll get Master's permission to do it for you!"

He dropped Randall down, though he didn't release his scruff, dragging him into the kitchen on the way - accompanied about plenty of yelping and crying. He shoved Randall's face down in the mess, his fur quickly soaking up some of the spilled milk.

"Look at this! Is this what an adult does? Throw cups full of milk on the floor and make a bigger mess? Or a child?"

Randall just shook his head, too terrified to speak. Zeblend finally let go, and stood back up. "Now clean that up!" he said, then sniffed the air, smelling Randall's accident in the other room. "And clean up your other mess. You act like a child in a fit again, I'll have you using diapers for a week!"

Randall grit his teeth - and rather than just rolling over and submitting, he did something quite contrary to his character. He'd had enough. This stallion had only been made alpha temporarily anyway. He was tired of being pushed around. It was Alpha's fault he'd spilled the milk anyway, if he'd just let him help in the kitchen like he'd wanted to, that wouldn't have happened. And he'd only wet himself because Alpha had scared him so bad, there was no need to make fun of him for it!

"You can't do anything to me! You're a SLAVE! Only Master can do that!" he shouted, a bit of bravado creeping into his voice. He stood there with his arms crossed, refusing to move or do anything - unwittingly looking exactly like a child throwing a fit. But, Randall felt he had to. If he didn't stand up to Zeblend now he'd be doing anything and everything Zeblend wanted, and the only person he wanted to do that for was his master.

The stallion just smirked, and walked over to the stairway.

"Master!" he yelled, calling Randall's bluff.

"Yes?" Georgio called back down.

"Randall threw a tantrum when he spilled some milk, and when I scolded him, he got scared and pissed himself. May I punish him?"

"That depends. What do you have in mind?"

"I think he should have to wear a diaper. Or just a spanking, maybe."

There was a long pause, and a distant chuckle.

"That sounds kinda funny, but, just make him clean it up and send him up to me."

"I told him to already, but then he talked back and said I couldn't make him do anything."

"Really?" Georgio said, sounding quite bemused. "Well, you're the Alpha. You're in charge, and you're allowed to punish him. A spanking is fine, but do it after he cleans."

The stallion walked back over to Randall, gloating. "You heard him. Chop chop."

Randall's jaw just dropped. He hadn't expected Zeblend to call his bluff, or for Master to agree with him. "Yes, Alpha..." he muttered, the fight crushed out of him.

He got some towels and avoided eye contact with the stallion the entire time. When he was done soaking up the milk, he got a bucket of soapy water and wiped up his other mess as well, feeling absolutely humiliated. It was a bizarre feeling to think he'd been in charge of Zeblend only a few hours before. And now, Zeblend handled his Alpha status with such easy, as though it was part of who he was, and Randall had just screwed it up the entire time. True, maybe Randall wasn't an alpha wolf, but he at least thought himself capable of being in charge of another slave. Maybe this was payback for using Zeblend's shock collar earlier. That thought sobered him up - he still felt quite remorseful over that incident, and it didn't make him feel better that he'd essentially gotten away from that unpunished.

He wanted to clean himself up, too, but hadn't gotten permission. The side of his face was still matted wet from the mik, and the fur on his leg was a bit...yellowed...as well. Checking around the corner to make sure Zeblend wasn't watching him, he patted himself down as best he could with a dry towel, hoping not to get caught. It wasn't as good as a bath, but he did feel better.

He rounded the corner back to the kitchen, now a bit terrified of the stallion - not just of all the consequences he was about to face, but of Zeblend himself. Master was quite firm with him, sure, but the stallion was downright scary! He hoped he would remember to calm himself down next time something like this happened - or rather, before it happened.

"I...I-I-I'm d-done, A-Alpha..." he stuttered.

The stallion looked at him and tried to smile as he walked in. He held out a ladle of the soup for him.

"Good, now, like I said, control yourself and I won't have to be stern with you. Now come over and try this. I think it's ready myself, but I'd like a second opinion. Then you can go up and talk to Master."

Randall looked at him suspiciously, but was absolutely sure that he would not try to poison him or do anything else bad while Master was in the house. He took a small sip from the ladle, then tried to go for another, but it was pulled away from him. He wagged his tail, and his eyes brightened up from the taste. It was exceptionally good - though it wasn't like he'd ever had anything to compare it to. He didn't really want to say that to the stallion, though - not the one who had scared the piss out of him then threatened to put him in diapers for a week.

"It's...it's pretty good," he admitted, reluctantly. Zeblend smiled, seeing right through the guise - the wolf's tail was still wagging.

"Good. Now go talk to Master." Randall left without hesitation, but just before he got to the bedroom door, he got an idea. He'd show Zeblend not to mess with him...Randall was NOT a damn puppy.

He took a deep breath, then punched himself as hard as he could in the muzzle, giving himself a bloody nose and a small scratch. He barely managed to stifle a yelp. Grinning at his surely fool-proof plan, he charged into his master's bedroom, talking as he went.

"Master, master, it was awful, he wouldn't let me help at all in the kitchen because he wants to steal oyu away from me, and then, he, he, he, he scared me and I spilled the milk and then when I ran out of the kitchen he beat me up!"

Georgio looked at Randall and sighed. He dropped the book he was reading on his lap reluctantly - he'd just about gotten to the climax. But he had an unruly slave to deal with first.

"Really, Randall? He beat you up? Because when he was scolding you I didn't hear anything to indicate you were punched. You wouldn't lie to me, would you, Randall?"

Randall hesitated, and grit his teeth together. He knew he was getting himself into some very hot water, lying to his master. His head spun in circles before he finally settled on a decision - for better or for worse. If he could get away with it, it would be so worth it, and it would make Zeblend think twice before treating him like that again!

"He...he did it all quiet-like! So you wouldn't hear!" he lied.

Georgio closed his eyes, thinking about the best way to handle this. Simply telling Randall he was lying wouldn't do. He had to learn from this. He opened his eyes, and patted the covers next to him.

"Come sit beside me, Randall, in case you get scared." Randall quickly did so, glad that he'd be protected from the stallion's rage.

"Zeblend! Come here, please!" he shouted downstairs. Randall flashed him a nasty, triumphant grin as he entered the room.

"What can I do for you, Master?" he said, upon entering.

"Randall tells me you hit him. You struck my mate?" he said, with mock horror.

Zeblends eyes grew wide. "Master, I didn't! I stuck his face in some milk, that's all, and he wet himself!"

Randall's nasty grin faded as he was reminded of his humiliating accident.

Georgio crossed his arms, made sure Zeblend was making eye contact, and gave him a knowing wink. "I'm going to have you euthanized. You punched my mate. I saved your life and you did crap with it, so sorry, but you're dead - you struck my mate, and that's that, right Randall?"

Randall's jaw was almost on the floor - yes, he was mad at Zeblend, but he didn't want him killed for it! And certainly not over a lie!

"I...ye...n...y-you can't do that, Master!" he said, a last ditch effort to try and save face. "Don't do that, please!"

"And why shouldn't I? I'm in charge, and anyone who strikes you is dead, understand? The only way I'd change my mind is if he didn't actually do it...but I trust you'd never lie to me, why would you? You aren't upset at him, you're a good boy that tries very hard."

"B-Because...because, because..." Randall was at a loss for words. He knew now that he'd been caught, and that meant he'd broken a trust with Master. Why couldn't he have just let things be from the beginning?

"I...he..."

A long, long pause. No matter the consequences, Randall couldn't live with himself if Zeblend was killed because of him. The stallion was innocent.

"I...I hit myself, to make it look bad...I'm not a good boy," he said dejectedly.

"Randall, I knew that the minute you walked in here," he said, stroking his cheek gently. "Why did you?"

Randall drew a sharp breath in, realizing he'd been tricked. Master was good. "I...I wanted to get even. He wouldn't let me help make your dinner, and, and...and then all that happened..."

"Randall? You aren't jealous, are you? And from what I heard, you got to help a little bit."

"Yeah, with just the milk. He hogged everything to himself and wouldn't let me touch anything," he said, crossing his arms and shooting pouty looks at Zeblend.

"He wouldn't let you touch anything?" Georgio repeated, holding Randall's chin. "Was it because he was doing something specific and complicated and didn't have time to show you tonight?"

Randall sighed. "Nobody ever has time for me..." he said, looking down, leaning into his master's arms. "I'm just a nuisance."

"Not to me, Randall. I wouldn't have bought you if I wasn't willing to take on a...project," he said, wrapping his arm around him and giving his head a quick peck. "Now how about from now on you start dinner earlier, and you can learn a little something every day, until you're able to make meals. But, Randall...you have got to watch that temper of yours. You freaked out over milk. Milk! Randall, if you don't stop this soon, I may have to call in a friend of mine, for a favor..."

Randall gulped. "Wh-what...what kind of favor?" he asked, worried.

Georgio gave him a longing look, stroking his cheek. He didn't want to do that to Randall, not at all, but if his anger didn't stop...if he had an outburst in public...the hospital had been such a narrow call.

"Don't worry about it. Just trust that I'd never hurt you and I'll always have your best interests in mind. Okay?"

Randall nodded. "If you think it would help me I'll be okay. I trust you, Master."

Georgio nodded. "Good. In the meantime, I know a good therapist that I'd like you to talk to. I'll be in the room with you the entire time, okay? This isn't negotiable. I don't want to have to call in that favor. She'll be here after dinner. I called her when I heard you having that tantrum. Now go help your alpha finish dinner."

Zeblend led Randall downstairs, being sure not to let the wolf out of his sight. He noticed Randall hanging back from him a little more, and sighed. He shouldn't have gone after him so heavy handed.

"We can discuss your punishment later tonight, okay, Randall? Don't worry about it for now." Randall nodded, and seemed to move a bit closer. At least that was out of his mind. Once at the kitchen, Zeblend gave Randall his own food and drink to carry, while he got his own and Georgio's.

Zeblend noticed Randall biting his lip, and the tip of his tail twitching as the wolf poured what little was left of the milk. Something was clearly eating at him.

"Randall? What's wrong? What's on your mind?"

"Y-you...you were supposed to spank me as punishment, right Alpha?" he said reluctantly, hoping he wasn't just jogging Zeblend's memory. "W-why didn't you?"

The horse gave him a curious look, and chuckled softly. He had thought something much worse was at play - some other disaster the wolf hadn't let them know about yet.

"Just a...silent apology to you. I literally scared the piss out of you, Randall. I know you're a little jumpy but I didn't realize how much until now. So, as a 'sorry' for making you wet yourself, I decided to let your rump be handprint free, just this once. But as long as you promise to try your best on that temper of yours, I promise no piss-scaring if I can help it, okay?"

The wolf nodded softly, a nervous smile on his muzzle. "U-um...okay, Alpha." Randall decided right then and there he would try his best to stay on Zeblend's good size - the stallion was quite scary when he was disciplining someone - that someone, of course, being Randall.

The chestnut horse gave him a bit smile, trying to soothe his nerves. "Keep that between you and me, okay? Master doesn't need to know I didn't punish you, but if he finds out, I'll take full responsibility."

Randall nodded. "Thank you," he said, quietly.

"Good. Now that that's settled, bring everything upstairs. Master might let us eat with him tonight." Randall wagged his tail in response - that sounded great. And after the last hour, he wasn't sure he wanted to spend very much time alone with Zeblend, either. They might have made up, and Randall was starting to develop a bit of trust for the imposing stallion, but the memories of his scare still lingered fresh on his mind.

Once they were all situated, Randall looked to the lion. He knew better than to eat before Master did. Georgio took a bite - then his eyes widened, and he took another.

"Zeblend, how...this is stupendous, how did you?"

"Oh, it's nothing, really...just a few tricks I picked up here and there...thank you very much, Master."

"Don't belittle yourself, you have talent. This is great! Eat up, you two."

Randall said nothing as he ate, but it was clear what his opinion was - though he'd tried not to get any on his muzzle, it was covered in soup, and his bowl was empty before either Georgio or Zeblend's was half done.

Georgio shook his head, laughing. "Maybe I'll see if my friend can do anything about your manners, too." Everyone shared a laugh at that, even Randall. After cleaning his own muzzle off, he curled up next to his master, careful not to push up against his bruised ribs, as the other two finished their dinner.

"So...Master..." Zeblend spoke up, once he'd finished. "Sorry about being so rough with Randall before...maybe I'm taking my role as Alpha too far..."

Georgio shook his head. In truth, he did think Zeblend had been too rough with Randall, but what Randall needed even less was for his Alpha's authority to be undermined.

"You're doing just fine. You need to be stern with him or he'll never learn. Though, I'll say, the fact that he wet himself does concern me a little...you either spooked him good or he has a weak bladder."

"It...it's okay...I've been scared worse before..." he said, rubbing his arm, as though some distant memory was associated with that. He didn't really want to admit it, but Master was right...without a stern hand he knew he was a loose canon. He felt more than a little humiliated, though, at the two talking about him as though he were an errant child who needed correction, and not even in the room.

In the middle of ruminescing, Randall suddenly let out a very loud and obnoxious belch. He looked around, briefly surprised, before grinning mischievously.

"Make that again some time!" he said, licking his muzzle and trying to lap up all the soup that was pasted to his facial fur.

Georgio looked at him incredulously. "Yes, we'll make that definite yes on the manners..."

Zeblend looked at him crossly. "You heard Master, cover your mouth and keep it closed when you burp. I'd think you'd know that after spending so long as a slave. I've only been one a week and I'm already a hell of a lot further along than you."

Georgio shook his head. That was too far, he had to cut in. "That's not fair, Zeblend. He wasn't lucky to have me right away. He was owned by some very, very cruel furs before I bought him."

Randall folded his ears back and looked down.

"Sorry..." he apologized, feeling a bit cornered in. He drew his knees up and hugged them as his master talked about his past.

"I'm trying, really, I am..." he said, whimpering.

"I know you are, Randall, and you know I love you even more for trying. I see it every day in you. You're only trying to do as you're told, and make me happy, and I really appreciate that. But you need to learn where the limits are. Like with the leaves - you're allowed to have fun, Randall, but you really need to learn when to ask questions."

Zeblend nodded. "Randall, what Master is saying is that you have to do what he or I tell you to do, specifically that. Nothing more and nothing less. It's okay if you want to try to do something more, but don't do it - ask either me or Master. Okay?"

Randall nodded in agreement, looking down and a little bit away from the two.

"I'll...I'll try to remember that...I just don't always know when I need to ask. I'm not used to having so much...freedom..."

He stayed silent for a moment longer, now finished with his meal. He wrung his paws together a little, and played with his ears, something clearly on his mind.

"What's my punishment gonna be for lying to you?" he asked, a little tentatively. It wasn't as though he was looking forward to it, far, far, from it as a matter of fact, but the anticipation was killing him.

Georgio looked at him and gave him a knowing smirk. "You want to know, huh? Well, it depends on how well things go with my friend. Then I'll know exactly, okay?"

"Okay..." Randall said - by the tone of his voice it was clear he wasn't satisfied with the answer. He was about to say something to that extent when the doorbell rang. His ears perked up, and his eyes moved over to the bedroom door, full of worry and apprehension.