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Pleasure Island-By LindaG and Foraoo.	By : Foraoo Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Savage Garden Views: 1508 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of Savage Garden. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Chapter 2 – Sins of the Master

~*~ Daniel ~*~

Five years I’ve been in this place. Five years that were torn from me without any concern for my feelings before or after. I’m an animal now. I don’t know how else to phrase what they’ve made me.
I despise the people who come here voluntarily. Two years, and they get money.
My parents sold me into this life. If I was to leave, I’d get nothing, because all my time here was paid to them. In advance. Hell, I didn’t even finish school before my parents threw me away. The training I received ensures I’ll never know normal pleasure or a normal life. So here I sit, rotting away. A plaything for rich bastards and bitches becauseouldouldn’t know how to function on my own in the world outside of this one anymore. That’s what happens when your existence is dictated by another’s whims.
The fact that I can now treat others as I was treated is little comfort. I’m still here in this… hell. I can’t believe I still have a conscience. I would have thought it had died.
But I guess I learned quickly enough. It didn’t make the pain any less, and I still burn with hatred for the man who made me this way, but to ‘do unto others as has been done to me’?
I laugh bitterly at that. Yeah, I still remember church, and the God that forsook me when my parents did. Still, I’m confused. I know my place as a subservient animal. I know what’s expected. How to react. I’ve seen others go from my place to Dominant, and they are terrible in their ‘righteous indignation’ — those that were sold, like me. Sometimes their charges don’t survive.
The ones who stayed because they had a choice… they—they’re different. But their slaves are, too.
Slaves like me, we can survive practically any depraved handling. But the ones who are here because they wanted to be… who train those who want to be… they wilt under some of the treatment I’ve had to survive.
Why didn’t I just give up? Die? Because my bastard master wouldn’t let me. He made sure that I was healed enough to live after any extensive training or personal use session that left my blood pooled around me. Made sure I had nothing available to me to end my life. The first year was the worst.

No, I take that back… the first day of the rest of my life was a living hell… the first twenty-four hours. I was stripped. Prodded, and then separated from the people who would be paid when they left — and they made sure to inform me of just how low my place was compared to everyone else.
Lowest of the low. Less than the dirt under their feet. Because I wasn’t good for anythiut aut a pleasure slave — the life I now found myself facing.
After that, I was taken to a room. Two men twice my size waited. Not that big, I suppose, since I was only sixteen, but in my fear-paralyzed mind, they were big enough.

Then the first of the privileged entered. The man whom I learned later had bought me. Had lusted after me. William Hayes. The man I learned to adore in public, a façade that hid the seething hatred that burned inside of me… Of course I had to learn to hide it. That day, I did anything but. I swore, cursed, screamed, pleaded and eventually prayed for death. But as I said, God had abandoned me.
Hell, how stupid I was to believe there was a god, when people like William Hayes lived and thrived at their work.

But back to my first twenty-four hours. My first. He was silent. It wasn’t until later I learned his name. Learned he would become ‘God’ to me. He motioned to the two men, who grabbed my arms and bent me over a sawhorse.
One pressed his weight against me while the other fastened straps around my wrists and ankles. The stress to my back grew. I began cursing the man, my parents, the discomfort of the wood biting into my chest. But it faded the moment he thrust his hard cock into my virgin arse. I screamed. My vision darkened. How the hell could he not hurt? Fire burned inside me. Tears streamed down my face as he pounded into me, his fingers digging into my hips. I don’t know how long his skin beat against mine, but suddenly there was a new burning and then he was falling against me, breathing heavily.
My throat was raw from my screams. It hurt to breathe. This position made it hard to breathe and his weight on top of me made it nearly impossible.
Eventually, he fell out of me. Then he kissed my back and stood up. I heard his clothes rustle, and the door open and close twiceen Ien I was taken again.
I lost count of the number of people who used me that day. The first one to fuck my mouth, I bit. I very quickly learned the error there. Something struck my sweat-wet back and I managed to scream in spite of my raw throat.
A cat-of-nine-tails, I learned later. It tore the soft flesh of my back a second time, and continued striking me as the cock rammed back into my mouth.
As the cock released its warmth into my throat, I began choking from tears and lack of breath. I blacked out.

I still bear the scars of those first twenty-four hours. In body and mind. I don’t think I have a soul anymore. I just exist. Because it’s expected. Because it’s what I’ve learned.
And in five years of use, they’ve been added to. So much so that they weigh heavily on me. But what else can I do? Who would have me like this? Who would help me? No one. I’ve learned that.
I do have a few comforts now. Now that I’ve survived the five years. I have a pallet on the floor. They gave me a bed, but I didn’t want it. There are too many tortures associated with beds. The only time I ever felt any relief of any kind was when I was left to my pain on the floor of my prison. The white room. The room with nothing in it, until I had proved I would live no matter what they did to me.
It had to be repainted when they moved me out of it… well, the floor, anyway.
I have my own handcuffs now. My own fetters, too. Now that I’m the ‘favored’. Or was. Now I am to become what they are. And in spite of it all, I don’t know if I can.

The door to my room opens. It’s him. The only person I truly know I could treat the way he treated me. He’s brought others. How typical.
“Daniel, I need a favor.” He says as they move to me. I am supposed to be safe here. This is supposed to be my haven. It always was before. Now I don’tn han have that.
Two men hold my arms as the one with the whip walks behind me. The whip begins to fall against my bare skin. It has to fall fairly hard for me to feel it any more. So much scarring.
He walks up, and begins jerking my soft cock. Roughly. The only way he’s ever been with me. It’s all I can do not to spit in his face as the blows continue to rain down upon my back and buttocks.
“I’m assigning you your own slave now. I want him trained as you were trained. He’s come here to spite me, you see. He thinks I killed his mother. I didn’t, but he won’t listen to reason.”
My cock is hard now, throbbing, as I feel the first warmth begin to trail down my back. Hear the change in the sound of the whip as if falls against my skin.
He grabs my balls and squeezes, then tugs roughly. I don’t cry out. Not like I did those first days. Instead I give in to the feelings building in me, the pain and need for release. This is the only way he lets me have my release. With pain. He squeezes again as one of the men holding me jams his finger into my arse.
William Hayes has always loved the fact that I’m still tight after five years of use.
“Come, Daniel. Come now!”
And I do. Because that is my existence. To do as he says. When he says. I close my eyes as my head falls back and I shoot into the warm mouth that now envelopes my cock.
Finally my body goes limp. The whip stops instantly. The last man to whip me longer suff ser seriously at the hands of the most deviant of Dominants.
I shiver as a tongue licks my cock one last time. The men continue to hold me as I come back to reality.
William Hayes is standing before me once again, that godforsaken smirk on his face as he wipes his hand with a silk handkerchief.
The man who swallowed my offering is behind me now, rubbing the salve onto my back. It has anti-germ properties. Ever since that time four years ago the lashes got infected and nearly killed me. I suppose I should be thankful he cares for me so.
“I’m having a bed put in, too. I expect you to use it! Do I make myself clear?”
I nodded. When was the last time I spoke, other than to scream, or groan, or moan as required? I must still know the fundamentals, because I can still think. Can’t I?
“Now remember, Daniel. I’m expecting the best from you. I want him broken. I want him to come crawling back to me, begging forgiveness that he ever doubted me.”
So why does he call it a favor? He knows he could order me to do almost anything, and I would. Fortunately he’s never asked me to kill for him.
I swayed a bit on my feet when the others released me and left my room. I rubbed my slightly numb arms.
“Oh, and your new slave? He’s my son, Darren.”
I must have forgotten myself, shown my surprise, because he nodded his head and laughed loudly. No wonder he was such a bastard… if he’d subject his own son to this….
My vision went black. Hands grabbed me and lowered me to my pallet. When I opened my eyes we were still alone. Had he? No, it wasn’t possible. He’d never shown me any kindness in the last five years. Why now?
“Remember, Daniel. I want Darren to learn that it’s not wise to go against my wishes. I loved his mother, and I love him, but I’ve been much to easy on him, or he’d never have considered this. I’m relying on you to teach him the error of his ways. Don’t fail me.”
With that threat ringing in my ears, he left me to my pain. I let the darkness take me again.
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Pleasure Island-By LindaG and Foraoo.