Possession

Connor buried his face in the mattress attempting to block out the bright light threatening his sleep. He knew what awaited his consciousness.

“No use in pretending. I know you’re awake.”

Connor’s eyes snapped open causing Connor to cringe as light flooded them painfully. Immediately he moved to push himself up, but the distance between his shackled wrists and the lengths of the chains attached to them prevented him from doing so. He tried to sit up, but encountered the same issue with his leg restraints, finding he could do little else than proffer his ass up in the air. He was naked, as naked as when he’d run to begin with.

“I’m impressed. The tranquilizers usually take longer to wear off than this.” That voice spoke again, immediately drawing Connor’s attention.

Muscles tensing reflexively, Connor glared at the man in military dress. “Fuck off.”

“I see Traelyn wasn’t lying about your colorful use of language.” The General smiled as he leaned back against the far wall of the room. “Then again there is a clear written history of your extensive behavioral issues.”

“Wouldn’t it be so much easier just to let me run then?” Connor smirked, stretching out as much as he could, given his confinement.

“I would apologize for the chains but we both know you deserved them.” The General pulled the chair from the desk in the corner of the room and sat.

Connor rolled his eyes defiantly. “Oh yes, stupid me defending women and children.”

“I was referring to your activities last night, but you knew the consequences when you defied the Banpo Empire as did the rest of the members of your village.”

“Little children don’t know jack shit about the banpo trash other than they’re the ones that took their families away. LITTLE CHILDREN, innocent of ‘defiance’ as you so neatly called it, were beaten and dragged into slavery by your men. I WOULD RATHER BE PUNISHED FOR ALL ETERNITY THAN STAND BY AND WATCH THAT HAPPEN AGAIN.” Connor was panting, his voice hoarse from last night’s screaming now painful in his throat.

Connor’s outburst didn’t really surprise General Vesperian. The reports of this pet’s history were incomplete but correct. At a reported 22 years old, Connor became one of five men detained and sent for interrogation, after the fall of Kirotikiri. Connor remained silent but for screams of agony in the five week torture period following his capture. His name and age were only known through the information received from the four other interrogations. The rest of Connor’s history remained completely off file. After determining Connor would not submit or reform, the interrogation committee sentenced him to a lifetime of slavery. In the past eight months Connor had been sold, exchanged, and auctioned a total of 12 times, a new record that blew all other attempts away. An undeniable pattern of behavior emerged in the file. Originally sold into heavy labor on a large farm, Connor ran within the first twelve hours. It took search dogs three days to find him. His next owner served as a blacksmith, which is where Connor lasted the longest, a whole month before he’d picked the locks on his chains and made it halfway to the northern border before being discovered by bounty hunters. As soon as a weakness in the defenses of his master was found, Connor would take off. Vesperian couldn’t imagine what convinced Traelyn to purchase such an unruly pet. Undoubtedly the man took one look at Connor, whose stunning musculature and strong young body left nothing to be desired, and didn’t bother to check his history at all. A grand total of one week in Traelyn’s care and Connor escaped not once but twice: once with a makeshift knife hidden in his boots, which is currently why Connor remained unclothed, and once after having pried apart a weak link in his chains, which resulted in bloodied and bruised wrists and ankles. When this second attempt was reported during a dinner Vesperian and Traelyn were attending, Vesperian offered his personal men. It took his well trained soldiers half a week to find the boy, a fact which led to his offer to purchase the troublesome pet. The positively shameful history of escapes and disobedience combined with an obviously cunning young man really couldn’t have been more appealing to the General. Vesperian intended to prove just how persuasive a proper master could be.

“The surrender of Kirotikiri was not planned as a bloodbath.”

“Oh, so it just magically turned into one? I guarantee whoever planned the strike knew exactly what would happen.” Connor spat.

“I personally planned the raid, so I know for a fact that isn’t true.”

Connor’s eyes became wide with anger, his body visibly shaking with rage. The young man burst against his chains with all his might. Blood oozed out of previously torn flesh; however, Connor remained oblivious to his bodily pain. “YOU FUCKER! I’LL KILL YOU IF IT’S THE LAST THING I’LL DO I’LL KILL YOU!” Connor’s voice echoed in the room and the entire bed on which Connor lay shook and clamored loudly.

Guards rushed in immediately at the noise and, in accordance with the signal Vesperian gave, quickly tranquilized the boy.

Connor continued to fight, his body refusing to give in to the pain and exhaustion, even as the drugs coursed through his veins. He blacked out, his lips and tongues still forming obscenities, his eyes glassy but full of rage, his body thrashing at the chains as much as possible until pitch black came down around his senses.

Vesperian sat in the chair a while, long after the guards left the room to return to their posts. Standing up, he approached the now slumbering captive. Long adept fingers combed through the boy’s brown hair gently. Perhaps this would not be so easy a task after all.

. . .


The sun danced in the air warming his skin as Connor ran from the little girl in a pink dress. She giggled as she ran, the bow in her hair flapping in the breeze. Other children dashed away as she approached, avoiding her tags so they wouldn’t have to be ‘it’. A small band of children talked conspiracy near a tree before they joined in chasing him and helped tackle and drag him down to the grass so the little girl could tag him. She was laughing with glee and turned to run from him, only now it wasn’t the sun that stared brightly into his eyes but the moon. The dead of night hung with an eerie silence as Connor worriedly called the girls name. “Anna! Anna!” Troops were on their way. The small orphanage of children hid under ground in the small shelters covered with dirty and grass. Anna ran from the group of children refusing to leave behind her dolly. From the corner of his eye Connor saw a pink lump huddled in the street. He ran to the figure. “Anna, get up we have to-“ The words stopped in his throat. The front of a dirty pink dress as stained in dark red blood, covering his hands. A heavy hand on his shoulder made his blood run cold. He struck before he even thought of retaliation, pounding into the soldier again and again. He moved through the streets attacking with fallen branches and stolen swords until they’d cornered him. Drenched in blood they’d managed to tie him up. His rage making him blind to the world and even their continued abuse, until he saw the procession of captured move through the burning village. The children he’d so carefully hidden were shoved and pushed forward at a brutal pace. Little Chris’s eyes were filled with tears and the second his lips parted to cry a soldiers hand smacked him hard, sending the small body flying into the dirt. Connor struggled anew. He screamed and he fought long after they’d gagged him and chained him down. Anything to save those poor faces from the brutal treatment. The guard beat him unconscious.

. . .

Connor awoke in a cold sweat his body aching and crying out as he came back into the realm of consciousness. He bitterly cursed, once again refusing the tears that threatened his eyes. The cold floor bit against his naked skin. Connor sat up in the dark corner of the pitch black room. They’d moved him while he was passed out. He mentally cursed the drugs they used. He probably missed an opportunity or two to get loose again. He’d been so close this last time. He’d been three quarters up into the north woods before those damn men captured him. He knew then he shouldn’t have rested, even though his body was threatening to give out. He should have crawled, anything to keep moving. Light spilled into the room. From the door, a pair of pants hit him in the chest. The door slammed shut. Connor quickly pulled them on before they could be taken away. There he sat, waiting for his next chance at freedom.

It took five hours of waiting before the door opened again. Three guards entered to ‘escort’ him to his next location. Much to their surprise Connor didn’t fight, not for a single moment. They led him with a tight grip to each bicep into a small infirmary.

The walls were bare and there was only one table next to a strapped table. Clearly a room for slave care, Connor thought angrily.

There at the desk sat a tall woman with a stern look on her face. Clearly she had been warned about Connor’s past. The led him to the table, where the guards kept him held tightly.

The doctor stood and approached him, sitting in the chair that she’d dragged in front of the table. I’m going to look at your ankles and wrists and then I’m going to clean them. It’s going to hurt.

Connor didn’t reply. He’d been through their ‘healing treatments’ enough to predict how painful ‘helping’ him would be.

Unlike many of his physicians in the past she didn’t immediately set forth to dig her fingers into his wounds, instead she pried only where needed, ensuring that no infections set in too firmly and that nothing important had been damaged. She injected him with what she said was a pain killer and antibiotic.

Connor stared down at the determined woman in confusion. He’d had female doctor’s before, they’d been just as cruel as the men that had healed him. While firm, and certainly not gentle, she wasn’t deliberately causing him any pain.

“I’m going to wrap a cloth around your ankles now.” The Doctor spoke as she prepared said bandages. “Even with the pain killer these are going to burn like all hell. The guards will hold you down, but I assure you that you should stay as still as possible. We need to get these clean before I can bandage them up so they don’t give over to the infection that is starting to set in.” True to her words the doctor wrapped the soaking bandages around his ankles.

Connor’s world pivoted around the blinding fire radiating from his ankles. He clenched his teeth until he could stand the pain no longer and let out a scream as the bandages were replaced with fresh ones. The guard’s fingers dug into his legs and arms but he barely felt the pressure.

The hated bandages were removed, but the burn continued even after water rinsed over his broken flesh. Clean bandages were placed around his ankles. He panted, stifling the pain by focusing on his breathing. He steeled himself for his wrists but could not keep silent. The same quick bandaging and he was allowed a moment’s rest as the Doctor went over the rest of his body, washing him from head to toe treating smaller cuts and bruises, checking for lice and ticks, washing his hair clean from a week’s worth of dirt and grime and finally drawing blood samples.

The Doctor left the room with her kit.

. . .
Vesperian sat in his office. His fingers tented as he waited for Lanix to return. He was loath to have Connor’s wounds cleaned, knowing that it would amount to nothing but torture.

Lanix entered the office. Tossing the written report on her Vesperian’s desk, she sat down. “Well it seems that the boy has no serious physical problems. From what I can tell from the exam, he’s in danger of building up fluid in his lungs. Couldn’t be helped given he was naked and in the cold for a week. His ankles and wrists had moderate infections, but they should be fine after my treatment. I’ll need to see him again in a week to make sure that the infections haven’t redeveloped or gotten worse. The bandages need to be changed every twelve hours given the severity of the wounds. I don’t recommend using any wrist or ankle restraints until he’s fully healed or he’ll just rip it all open again and most likely reintroduce infection.”

Vesperian nodded. “Anything you can tell me about him, just form your inspection?”

Lanix sighed and sat back in her seat. “Clearly he’s been tortured several times over. His back is completely covered in scars as is most of his body. The only thing that has kept his skin so smooth was the obvious misuse of medical practice. Clearly he’s been burned, whipped, cut, stabbed, but most of them have been treated, and I’m guessing rather painfully with caustic antibiotics to keep scars from forming at a more tangible level. He looks like an albino tiger he’s so stripped up.”

“Anything I should be worried about?”

“Several things; One, how are you going to restrain the boy without biding his wrists or ankles and two, how are you going to get rid of him? No one is going to buy something that damaged unless their blind or stupid.”

“I don’t intend on getting rid of him anytime soon.”

“What are you going to do with him then.”

“You know you can’t set him free and as General the only slaves that you are allowed are those that compose your harem. One of which you don’t have, might I point out.”

“I’ve already thought of that. The council has been urging me to acquire one for quite some time. He’s beautiful enough to pass for a sex slave.”

“You have to be joking?”

“Do I?”

“You honestly think that boy is going to agree to become your lover?”

“I simply can’t allow this disgraceful behavior to take place. The boy has been through 12 owners. It’s insulting to the empire.”

“He’s not some wayward pet.”

“It’s like you said. I can’t get rid of him now, can I?”

“Well, he’s clearly intelligent. I mean the only reason we didn’t have to amputate was the poultices he’d applied to himself. You may just be in over your head, General.”

“I’m glad you’re so enthusiastic.”

“Well as his physician I will warn you that any punishments he receives better not mean another round with the cleanser. I have no intention of torturing anyone, even if it does mean preventing them from loosing limbs.”

“Lanix. You know me better than that.”

“I also know your temper and your propensity to solve arguments with your underlings with an all out brawl. He’s not up for that sort of treatment.”

“So how exactly to you propose I deal with him then?”

“I don’t know, spank him for all I care, just don’t bring him to me passed out and bleeding.” Lanix laughed as she stood, giving Vesperian a lax salute as she left the room.

Vesperian looked down at the medical report, which now contained a series of photographs. Clearly physical pain wasn’t the way to punish Connor. The young man has been through torture and come out without giving in. This really was going to be a challenge.