Work Text:
Zzzzap.
The searing heat of Zygarde's move flashed against Spinels bare thighs, and moments later Spinel grimaced as his nerves flared in response, sharp burning pain radiating from his backside from where the thing had whipped him. He shifted against the floor, ass up in that humiliating posture while his wrists were near glued to the floor by Zygarde's cells. Behind him, he heard the whirr of his master's wheelchair approach him, and then Gibeon spoke.
"Hm. Good, Zygarde. Perhaps now you understand that I don't tolerate impertinence."
Ah, yes. That meeting. Coral had decided to be childish duing the debrief, Spinel had put her back in his place, Gibeon had told them both to knock it off. It wasn't Spinel's fault Coral was next to useless, too busy chasing sweet treats instead of focusing on Explorer work and Laquium research. Perhaps he had gotten a bit mouthy. Not that she didn't deserve it. His master didn't take too kindly to him trying to get the last word on the matter, however. Hence him getting to be bound and trussed naked on his floor for the next hour or so.
"You amuse me, whelp." Gibeon mused, and Spinel could feel the vibrations of his chair as he moved behind him. "Your work pleases me. But you are not perfect - you will fail if you do not obey. That mouth of yours will be your ruin."
Spinel bit his lip to stop himself from retorting. Oh, how he would love to shove that old coot out of his chair. But not now. He had to bide his time. Gibeon was his master for the time being, and until the time was right Spinel would allow him to hold this power over him. He felt the brush of soft velvet fur against his thigh - Umbreon, looking at him with those dark eyes, watching him but not stepping between him and his master. From behind him, he heard a chuff of laughter.
"Even your most trusted partner knows you deserve this." Gibeon murmured. "She won't step between you and I. She knows what you need."
"A little torture's good for the soul." Spinel sniped back, unable to help himself, and the Zygarde cells at his wrist buzzed at his words. Gibeon tutted.
"Still such a mouth on you, whelp." He paused, and Spinel heard the rustle of clothes. "Zygarde, another round of Thousand Arrows. Aim a little lower if you please, I want him to remember his indiscretion when he walks away from here..."