Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

((Disclaimer: All charries and whatnot are my personal property to do with what I will. Hehehe. Any similarities between them and existing people/charries is purely coincidental and all that jazz.
Any attempts at stealing said charries or the plot will be dealt with in a way of my choosing. ^-^

Anything else?

Oh yeah, review dammit! I live for reviews and they give me motivation to write more. No reviews, no updates. That is all.

Enjoy!))


“Please master! Stop! I beg of you! Ahhh!”

The voice belonged to a young blonde boy restrained in a rather lavishly decorated room. His bindings were leather, so as not to cut into the soft skin of his wrists and ankles, but the tough material was attached to thick yet delicate looking chains that were in turn held in place against the wall.

The exquisite room was coloured in deep reds and royal golds and purples, the drapes and linen on the four-poster bed and the curtains matched this ensemble and adding to the regal appearance, dark mahogany woodwork really gave the room a feeling of great importance.

However, a select few shelves around the room were lined with devices used primarily for torture. Several drawers also contained similar such items, one of which was clasped in the master’s hand, a thin leather whip, and it was that which caused the boy to cry out.

He too looked delicate, pale, slender, his skin soft to the touch with pretty blue eyes and the softest locks of golden blonde that one could dream of trailing their fingers through. He truly was a beautiful young man.

“Not yet, my angel. You cannot go unpunished.” The older male purred, stepping closer to the boy and gently cupping a silky soft cheek, catching a crystalline tear on a slim finger and licking up the tiny droplet of liquid. After giving the boy a light kiss, the master stepped back to admire him.

The youth was naked, and that was the reason why a pale rose blush tinted his cheeks. The eyes were primarily drawn to the few lashes that lined his chest and stomach, the wounds themselves bright crimson in stark contrast to the pale skin, the thin streams of life that trickled and flowed like ribbons down his abused body.

“I’m sorry master, it will not happen again.” The blonde mumbled shamefully, wincing at the stinging pain shooting through his body as a result of the latest lash.

“I should hope not my angel.” The master responded softly, setting the whip back into its place on the shelf. “Don’t worry my love, once we’re finished here, we shall play with the ribbons again perhaps.” He purred seductively, his voice as silky as the ribbons he spoke of.

At this comment, the boy’s eyes lit up with joy and a moment was taken to look the older male over.

The master was clad simply in a crimson silk robe with a golden trim. His feet were bare and the boy could only assume the rest of his master’s body was in a similar state of undress beneath that concealing robe. Gold-flecked jade eyes danced with amusement at the boy’s reaction to his words, whilst burning with a lust and desire that only his angel was permitted to quench. To top it off, tresses of a similar golden hue framed a softly angled face.

The master’s pale pink lips were drawn into a small smile as he observed the boy’s scrutiny of him while obtaining some balm with which to soothe the wounds he inflicted so cruelly upon his angel.

The position the boy held was much coveted among the other slaves because no-one but his love could experience what went on behind those locked doors of the master’s private rooms. This meant that the boy was to stay at his master’s side at all times, lest he become the target of the other slaves’ hostilities.

Leon his name was, the child, and it was forbidden and blasphemous as slave and master were not to become involved as more than their station but alas, this master had fallen for his love-slave and though their relationship had to be kept secret, it had been found to be beneficial to them both to become romantically involved.

The cooling cream was applied to the youth’s lashes, the silver chains ringing as the boy flinched in his restraints whenever the strawberry scented balm touched a burning wound.

Once the boy had been tended to, the older male released his angel from the leather manacles, catching the youth as he toppled forwards due to weakness in light of his punishment.

“Poor love. That will teach you to speak out of line again won’t it?” He murmered sympathetically, though he had no qualms about causing pain to his angel, as always there would be pleasantries to follow it up. This night would be no different, and the ribbons were waiting, laid carefully upon the silken bedsheets.

That was nearly three months ago.

Barely a week after that, Leon was gone.

He’d just gone missing. One minute he was bathing in preparation for some time with his master, the next he’d been abducted and didn’t make it to his master’s private room.

The older male had been distraught, sending all of his slaves out to search for his missing love, but to no avail. He’d searched for weeks, months even and there had been no sign of the blonde boy anywhere.

The master had never given up, barely sleeping, hardly eating, neglecting himself in favour of finding his lost angel. And even now the older male had never lost hope, always knowing that he would see his love again

Where was he?

Trapped. Bound. On an island somewhere in the middle of an ocean.

The first two months had been spent indoctrinating the boy into learning who his new master was, learning the ropes and spending time with the other slaves, all of whom had been in a similar situation, all stolen from their respective masters, all wanting to be free of the humiliation of their current situation.

All the slaves were bound by thick iron shackles, clad in little more than thin loincloths to hide their modesty. They were all slim, each one probably looked beautiful if they weren’t in such poor condition, grubby, under nourished, shivering with the cold of being confined in a dank cell. They’d all in turn be called out, washed, fed, dressed in fine clothes and taken back behind closed doors.

Except for the blonde boy, it wouldn’t be half as pleasant as it had been with his previous master, whom he had little hope left of seeing again, but still, perhaps, he still clung to a shred of possibility that he could escape and return to his master, his love.

****

It started as just another day down in the cell, the slaves straining against their bindings to huddle close and share their warmth. It was cold, obviously, but due to prolonged exposure to the hostile conditions, even though they looked fragile, shadows of their former selves, they were becoming hardened to their situation. The lashes they endured for their disobedience didn’t hurt as much as they used to, the whip biting greedily into their pale and grubby flesh even as thin streams of crimson life dribbled down their once beautiful pale skin.

Suddenly there was a commotion outside the heavy cell door, someone was struggling against their captors and doing some serious damage if the grunts and cries of pan were anything to go by. Not surprisingly, the slaves’ curiosity was perked and all eyes went to the door, between ten and fifteen pairs of dulled eyes locked on the obstruction between them and the disturbance outside.

“Restrain him” Someone roared, a familiar voice to the captives, the head guard, General Artimus Garth. There was then the brief but loud sound of the lock being released on their door and then dim light filled the room. Even though the brightness of the cell had barely changed, it was enough to make some of the occupants cringe and shrink away from the light after such a long period of incarceration.

Someone was bundled into the cell, punching, kicking, biting, striking many of the slaves in the struggle until he too was bound to the wall and darkness descended upon the room once more. Silence reigned. The newest captive turned grey irises to the other occupants of the cell, noting the state of each one, how they looked underfed and abused.

He was slightly better built than the others, with a little more defined muscle. Apparently their master was tiring of the fragile slaves who were easily broken, and had turned to those who had more backbone and presented a challenge, though what was to become of the other slaves had yet to seen, but there had been rumours, that reached the cells by way of the guards, that the unwanted slaves were tortured for amusement before being killed.

It was every slave for themselves.

The new slave had been positioned beside Leon and was looking the blonde over, his gaze apologetic as it was the blonde boy who bore the brunt of his attack on the guards and would probably soon be sporting a few fresh bruises.

Leon ignored the scrutiny, his empty gaze on the dirty floor beneath them. Each slave had an aura of despair around them, betraying the fact that they had been there for some time, and the smell was unimaginable seeing as their only means of waste disposal was a bucket that had to be passed around before being returned to its corner.

The newcomer observed all of this over the next few days, had introduced himself as being Rafael, gotten no reply and said nothing since. It wasn’t long before Rafael hardly looked any different from the others in the cell, grubby, depressed, silent, but his eyes, where everyone else’s were full of misery, his were laden with anger and hatred.

A week passed with no activity whatsoever until suddenly their cell door swung open and orders were barked from somewhere along the adjoining corridor. The slaves were rapidly released from their bindings and shoved against the wall beyond the door in a long line. They were on parade and soon they’d come face to face with the master.

It wasn’t often that events transpired like that, usually slaves were picked at random, but every so often, the master would grace them with a visit. Once all was quiet and the slaves were lined up, a majestic looking figure descended the nearby flight of stone stars and began to look over the captives.

He was clad in a simple robe of a deep purple hue with a crimson coloured rope securing it in place about the waist. Feet were clad in what looked to be pointed slippers with intricate gold patterns weaving across them, but aside from that, nothing else was worn. The master had chocolate brown tresses that fell neatly over his shoulders and eyes that were an odd mixture of bright jade with flecks of turquoise, and it was these intense eyes that lingered on each slave as he made his selection.

“That one.” He ordered, pointing a slim, pale finger at Leon, who cringed as a guard shoved him out of the line and towards the stairs.

Rafael’s eyes narrowed. Although they hadn’t spoken, the newest slave felt drawn to the blonde boy and was loathe to let him go. The master was strolling back along the line, seemingly pleased with his selection when he chanced upon the dark look from the grey eyed captive. Smirking maliciously, the master stood before Rafael as if daring him to make a move against him. The slave didn’t move but his eyes burned with hatred and the master moved away, a cruel smile curling his lips.

“Him too,” He declared, gesturing to the recent addition to the ranks of the slaves. “I want them fed and bathed before they are brought to my chambers. Do not delay.” He ordered before breezing up the stairs. Back to his room and away from the repulsive stench of the slave cells.

The pair were escorted in the same direction that the master took earlier, away from the dank underground slave’s ‘quarters’, up the winding flight of stone steps and through a heavy iron braced door. Beyond the door was a covered walkway and insects could be heard buzzing in the undergrowth nearby. Vines of varying length and thickness wound around the thick stone pillars that supported the roof of the walkway that was cracked and discoloured with age.

Both slaves were then herded through a small door that lead into the servant’s quarters and from there along a series of corridors that became steadily better lit and lavishly decorated. They both looked incredibly out of place, their dirty bodies and scruffy loincloths standing out starkly against the bright and expensively furnished hallways.

They soon found themselves in an exquisite bathroom, golds, creams and white being the dominant colours. Before they knew it, their loincloths were quickly removed and their attention snapped to the huge steaming bath heaped high with welcoming bubbles. After the squalor of the slave cells with no hygienic facilities, this bathroom alone was heaven, their meeting with the master temporarily forgotten in light of the bliss they were mere seconds away from.

Their naked bodies were on show to the guards who were posted in the room with them, and for them both it was rather uncomfortable to be on display, but again they were ushered forwards and they slid into the bath, gasping at the shock of being in hot water and the prospect of actually getting clean.

The guards didn’t leave, but the two slaves were allowed to take their time, they had to be thoroughly cleaned before they entered the master’s presence and so every nook and cranny of the body had to be washed in order for them to pass the master’s inspection. So the pair slowly cleaned themselves of the grime they’d accumulated from their time in the dank rooms of the slave holding cells.

With each pass of the washcloth over the layer of dirt that coated them, more spotless pale flesh was revealed, though Rafael turned out to be more of a tan colour than the blonde. Obviously the older slave, although newer, had seen a lot of the sun. Their hair too was washed, Leon’s blonde tresses returned to their natural golden hue and Rafael’s very dark, jet black hair was freed of the muck that tangled the locks so badly.

When they thought they were clean, the guards came over and ordered them to stand before they were scrubbed over once more for good measure and then given robes of a pure white colour with belts that were of a similar gold to the smaller slave’s hair. Hair that refused to be tamed as it had grown slightly longer during his time in confinement and insisted on remaining cutely fluffy and dishevelled.

In the end the guards gave up on the boy’s hair, they were tugging his head in all directions and really not making any progress. Rafael’s hair though, fell in neat black waves, stopping just above his shoulders and looked beautiful and silky in the light of the bathroom.

Throughout the entire process, neither slave had emitted any sound, and still didn’t even as they were then escorted away from the bathroom and back along the corridor where they entered another room that was home to a long banquet table. Eyes widened in amazement as the two slaves beheld the sight that was more food than they though there possible to be, even though Leon held the knowledge that his previous master presented much more food than was on display before him then.

It was all they could do not to drool as they were prodded towards the table and urged to eat their fill. An example of the food that was piled before them? It was truly exquisite and Rafael at least, hadn’t been privileged to eat such a meal. There were trays of everything one could think of, from mini quiches to a whole hog-roast, cocktail sausages to plates decorated with fruits that many would never have even heard of before.

Leon was upon the food in moments, etiquette forgotten in his half starved state. However, they had to be careful not to dirty their freshly washed clothes and bodies, so there was some degree of control in the ravenous way they ate, wolfing down great mouthfuls of food in their haste to sate themselves.

It was some time before the pair were satisfied and they slumped in their chairs, holding their stomachs and closing their eyes to bathe in the feeling of being full. However, they weren’t given long to let their meal settle, as the guards were impatient to get the two males to the master before they were reprimanded for taking too long. Emitting a soft groan as he lifted himself from his seat, Leon shuffled alongside Rafael as they were finally escorted towards the master’s chambers.

It was then that the fear began to set in, after all, when a slave was chosen for the master, that slave was never seen down in the cells again, and it was not known what happened to them. The small slave huddled closer to Rafael as they were ushered along the corridors once more, hoping that the bigger, hopefully stronger slave could protect him if it was needed.

((Chapter two is in progress, but critique is wonderful. If you want to flame me, send me an e-mail, don\'t dirty my review section. Hehehe. -Sweatdrop- Anyway, I\'ll love you forever if you leave a review.))