Drowning In Your Love

Bound by Blood

Sobs wrecked through his body as he crawled towards his master who was smirking cruelly, enjoying the show. Every movement made his let out a pained moan, his arms were tied together by rope that had already cut into his skin while his legs were shackled to heavy weight making it almost impossible to move. He was only clothed in tattered shirt that was long enough to reach mid thigh.

"Come baby. Come to master. Don't make me wait." The man, Brett said in sugary sweet voice.

"Yes M-Master."

"No stuttering. How many times have I told you?"

"Sorry master."

It was hard not to stutter because he was shivering terribly partly because of fear and partly because of cold. He was never given enough clothes to keep himself warm against bitter cold. He somehow reached Brett and was dragged upwards by his hair making him shriek in pain.

"What are you babe?"

"Master's toy." The boy replied.

"Such a sweet little toy you are. Do you deserve to eat?"

"No, master. Toy is only meant to serve master."

"Good boy. As a reward I'll let you eat a little." Brett picked a slice of bread and threw it on the dirty floor commanding the boy to eat it and he did because that's all he was getting to eat today.

"Take him away to his room."

It would be generous to call it a room because it was more of a prison, just enough space for him to lie down. He wasn't given a bed  to sleep or a bathroom to clean himself. Whenever Brett wanted him clean he ordered him to shower in one the bathrooms on second floor. As for relieving himself, he first had to take Brett's permission only then he was allowed to go to washroom.

He was given food and water totally on Brett's whim and at times he went hungry 2 or 3 days straight. He was so thin that his ribs could be counted and since he was small for his age, he hardly looked like a 20 years old boy. Every little mistake warranted cruel punishments ranging from whipping, spanking, starving, humiliation, choking, flogging to getting beaten until he was on verge of death. If all of this wasn't enough, he was raped by Brett and whoever Brett allowed.

His name was Tine. He had once been a normal teenager who loved partying and having fun. He was a decent student and on the volleyball team. His parents had died when he was in middle school so his aunt took care of him though not happily. He had secured a place in Bright National University and couldn't wait to start his college life. But things went terribly wrong when he went to a shady party thrown by some of his seniors and ended up getting drugged and kidnapped.

Police tried to find him but after months of absolutely no lead they closed the case and since his own family wasn't that keen of finding him, everyone forgot about him. He was shipped off to another country and auctioned as slave. Brett was the one who bought him 3 years ago and since then hell is all he had known.

He had fought in the beginning. He refused to give in and tried so damn hard to escape but it all ended up in him getting hurt badly. Once he almost died because Brett had stabbed him with a knife but was saved by the doctors. Now he wish he had died. It would have been better than living like this if you could even call this living.

He had tried many times to end his life but was never successful, maybe because he didn't really wanna die or he was too much of a coward. His body was littered with hundreds of scars, small and big, old and new, shallow and deep. In a way he had grown accustomed to pain and to an extent he could numb himself. Once he had asked Brett why was he doing this to him and the jerk had said because he could.

He blamed himself for everything and once in a while he fantasized about the life he could be living had he not gone to that party. He would try to imagine lectures he would attend, cafes he would go with friends after lectures, roommates he would have in the dorm, friends he would make, fest he would participate in, volleyball team he would be part of, love he would experience. Sometimes he went as far as imagining graduating the college, finding a good stable job, getting married to love of his life and living happily.

Would he ever get out of here? No one was searching for him. No one was looking for him. No was trying to save him. When he first came here he had waited for someone to come for him, for someone to save him. But as hours turned into days and that merged into weeks soon months had already passed and after years he gave up. He realized no one was coming for him and no one would ever will. He was truly on his own. It was a terrifying thought but at least it kept him from hoping helplessly. It hurt more to have false hope than being hopeless.

Next morning there was a party in the mansion. Yeah, he was inside a mansion. That's how rich Brett was. He was some sort of businessman or something, he didn't know exactly what he did. Brett wasn't exactly doing things legally seeing he had a slave in his house. He had parties once in a while, a different kind of party where sick bastards like him brought their slaves along and they had dinner while slaves sat on the floor beside their master's chairs.

There was this one slave, Gulf belonging to Peter. Tine didn't like him. You would think they would bond over seeing both were in same predicament but that wasn't the case. Gulf had only been slave for a month and Peter wasn't as sick and twisted as Brett was. Gulf had once asked Tine to escape together but he had refused. He had already tried every means to runaway and had paid dearly for that with his body. Since then Gulf looked down on him and it irked him for he didn't know things Tine went through here.

Gulf was more like domestic slave, he did household works at Peter's House. He wasn't used like Tine was. He didn't had to go through humiliation like Tine did. Both of them were in worst possible situation yet there was always someone who had it worst. And in this case it was Tine.