Nimda

Author's notes: Drafted this up before finishing school work. I'm gonna get more homework done and hopefully finish (or at least make some headway into) chapter 3. All feedback is welcome, also, I want a Smart Life computer :[

Also, I'm not portraying slavery in a pretty light here. Just a warning.

Chapter 2 – Proxy

Alex awoke to a soft hand petting his hair. He was still on a hard surface, though it was much softer and warmer than the floor had been, and he was still bound tightly. The pounding in his head made him feel sick, even as he tried to adjust his body. As though reading him, the hand moved for a bucket on the floor and held it up as he wretched. The hand then replaced itself, going back to stroking his head in a calm, motherly way. Even though the presence felt foreign, he didn't shirk away from it, feeling as though it were familiar.

“You're experiencing disorientation and sickness as a result of your captivity. It should subside soon.” The voice chimed in calmly.

“Where?” His throat was scratchy and dry from ill use.

“You're being held while they negotiate with your mother.”

“Negotiate?”

“I wouldn't worry about it. They're going to kill her and then you. You're best bet is to enjoy the little time you have left alive.” She said it in cold, unaffected way.

Alex felt sick again, vomiting into the bucket, tears streaming down his face in frustration. “What do you mean, she's going to be killed!?” He yelled out to the cruel woman stroking his hair.

“That's simply the plan. I am only relaying the truth. Crying will accomplish nothing.”

“Oh, shut up!” He stared up at her and saw her perfectly placid expression. “Shit, you're just an android.”

“I'm merely in charge of your health and comfort for the remainder of your stay.”

“Don't touch me.” He tried to shift away from her hand, feeling sickened by it.

“My research shows that humans consider intimate touching such as this a comfort. Do you not like comfort?”

“You wouldn't understand. You're unable to process human emotion and understand a little thing called tact. Now, don't fucking touch me.” He tried bury his face in the pillow, though the pain in his neck prevented him from doing so.

The android woman stopped and retracted her hand, instead opting to sit back and watch him. “If you would like to adjust, I can help you.”

Alex ignored her, feeling anger and frustration course through him at her previous words. He wanted to find Mr. Hall and carve his guts out. He wanted to find every last person in the building and strangle them, enjoying their last spasms before death. He felt betrayed, used and now he had to lie on a cot while that dirty fucker killed his mother. Why did he have to be so helpless?

///

Alex awoke a few house later in a different position, his aching limbs enjoying the break. It wasn't until the door opened that he felt the strong, artificial hands move him into a sitting position. Before him was Mr. Hall and a woman in a business suit. Hall had his videophone out, the screen pointing toward the young man before him. He looked as though he was enjoying himself even though the tone of his voice seemed frustrated. “Here's your proof.”

The phone was thrust into his face and he could now make out the figure of his mother on the screen, her face distraught despite her desperate attempts at composure. Alex said nothing, looking down at the floor in an attempt to hide his face. Mr. Hall chuckled, grabbing him by the hair and forcing him to look back at the screen. “Without a doubt, Mrs. Reed. That is your son. Now, if you want him back alive, I suggest you get down here with those files I wanted, got it?” In a flash he was gone, shutting the door behind him as though he were making a simple business call.

Alex bit his lip, fighting back the angry tears again. Why hadn't he said anything? Why?!

“Your mother will come. She knows it's a trap, but she will come. She loves you.” The android sat back, her hands folded, unaffected by the distraught young man in front of her.

///

He was sitting up when Mr. Hall came back in. Alex had lost all track of time and could only guess at how long he had been there or whether or not his mother was still alive. Just the thought of it made him feel rage and sorrow in the same breath and so he tried to put it out of his mind. The old man stood in front of him, flanked on either side by uniformed officers. “Why don't you just kill me?” Alex offered up, feeling as though the wait for the inevitable was more unbearable than anything else.

“I really do hate to waste you, though. We've killed so many others that there are hardly any of you left.”

He lifted his head and stared at the man he hated. “What?”

“This is a military coup, Alex. We took out all the major political leaders and anyone who would find out and stand in our way. Your mother was the last piece of the puzzle. After we took her out, everything crumbled rather easily. It's no longer a secret to the public. They know exactly what's going on. Major corporations and many politicians are getting in while it's good, securing high positions under the new regime. Because of that, we have very few, real live 'royals' left.”

Alex bristled at the term. “There are no royals in a democracy, Mr. Hall.”

“Call it what you will, but we all know certain families ruled over this country's government for generations. That's why you're called royals, and you are one of the last ones living.”

“What's your point?” The fact of his mother's death was slow in hitting him. He knew and registered it but the true impact of it was slow in its approach.

“My point is that the queen wishes all royals dead and only those proven loyal to her kept alive. You should die, but I can't do so because of the money I could make with you.”

“Queen?”

“Queen Danya.”

“What doe-”

“It doesn't really matter what the semantics of the new government are, now does it? I suppose you can ask your new master if he chooses to let you.” He waved to one of the men who produced a syringe.

“Master?” Alex was staring at the floor again, the information overloading his ability to coherently think.

“I've been trying to tell you that you're going to be sold as a slave. You're bloodline will fetch a high enough price.” Mr. Hall has his men hold Alex still as he squirmed suddenly finding his survival instinct. “Oh, hold still and calm down.” The young man still thrashed, though his bound and aching limbs did little to stop the needle.

///

Alex would recall the next few days as hazy and, that's exactly what they were. His consciousness wavered in and out, catching on glimpses of what was happening. He was vaguely aware of being naked, though he couldn't bring himself to be ashamed or embarrassed. He also remembered the touching. There was prodding and pushing, his legs being rearranged, muffled voices echoing over his head. He remembered silhouettes, large figures standing over him, pondering as they poked and prodded, lifting and shifting him around, asking questions in a dull tone Alex was unable to translate.

There was only one instance where he awoke feeling completely aware, though the withdrawal was hitting him with nausea and a nasty headache. In stepped Mr. Hall, followed by a tall, blonde man with large, intimidating features. His skin was tanned, causing the lightness of his hair to appear like a corn or wheat color. Now that he was sober, Alex was distinctly aware of his nudity, and immediately tried to cover his shame. It was then that he discovered his arms and legs were still tied in a manner that made him virtually immobile.

The men callously approached, the blonde grabbing Alex's hair and pulling him up with a firm grip, his blue eyes piercing the young man's. The stare was clinical, the kind one might have when examining a cut of meat. The rest of the session went that way as Alex felt his shame build up unbearably while he was shifted around and examined. Finally, when the man placed his hand on Alex's shaft, he jolted, kicking out his legs, a feral yell ripping from his throat. It was as though his brain were reacting like a wild, caged animal. When the man came back from the sudden outburst, he reached forward again, pulling the youth toward him and placing his hands all over him, exploring his body rather nonchalantly.

Alex squirmed, struggling against the bonds, even as they dug into his skin, but the man's hands wouldn't stop. He wanted to puke, to spit and swear. It just felt so wrong and intimate and that was a place no one was allowed to be and now this man was touching it like it was freely displayed in a store window. He felt himself tear up in frustration, his teeth grinding as he wriggled in the man's grip.

Finally, the blonde stood, smiling at the old man next to him.

“Well, Mr. Torren? Does he live up to your expectations?”

“Oh, indeed.”

“He's not too...rowdy for you?” Mr. Hall seemed nervous, his fingers twitching slightly.

“Oh, no, not at all. I like a bit of challenge.”

“Well, you have the winning bid. If you want we can sign everything away and get him sent off with you.”

Alex drowned out the rest of their conversation with the blood pounding in his head. He was panting, sweating, on the verge of screaming, and likely would have had it not been for the gag in his mouth. They were discussing him like he was property. It disgusted him, touched him somewhere in his mind where he couldn't reconcile with it. He just couldn't accept that he was going to be a slave. No! I'm a human being, God Damn it! I'm a fucking human being! I have thoughts and feelings and a will of my own! His brain swam with all the tragedies of the past days—of his mother and uncle's deaths, his own incarceration and now the realization that he was to be caged and violated like an animal. He found himself doubling over with choked crying as realities came crashing down onto him.

I'm no longer a human. I'm no longer a human. I'm no longer a human.

Alex felt dizzy, wanting to throw up as his brain pounded in the incessant headache.

You're mother is dead. You're mother is dead. You're mother is dead.

He felt himself wretch, the gag making his jaw sore and his dry throat not helping any.

No one will save you. No one will save you. No one will save you.

He was vaguely aware of Mr. Hall approaching him with another needle in hand, though he chose to not fight this one, willingly accepting the bliss of the drugs.

You're all alone.

///

Alex awoke to a familiar feeling of a soft bed curling around his aching muscles. He accepted its warmth, sighing happily. It felt wonderful to be home in his apartment, the next school day an entire four days away.

Alex snapped his eyes open. He wasn't in his own bed, and the realization made him feel sick again. The bed was much larger, and had green sheets, done in a way that made it seem straight from a catalogue. He was unbound except for his ankles, which were close enough together so that running would be impossible. Alex sat up, surveying the room.

It was big, decorated in beautiful swatches of color that were muted, yet somehow vibrant. He stood, testing the bonds on his ankles and taking a few test steps. His legs, unused to the movement, felt weak and wobbly, but he kept at it and was soon half way across the room.

“Oh, I didn't expect you to be awake so soon.” The voice came from the now open door where the blonde man stepped through. Feeling exposed Alex covered himself and glared. “My name is Jacob Torren, and from now on I am your master.” His voice was stern but not as intimidating as the young man had expected from such a big man. “I will be as nice or as mean as I need to be and will not punish you as long as you do what I want.” Jacob approached, smiling a bit as Alex attempted to walk away, nearly falling in the short chains. He grabbed the young man by the hair and dragged him to the bed, forcing him to sit on the end of it.

“I have rules that you will follow. You are to never have your head above mine. You are to always call me master or sir and you may add my name on the end if you so wish. You will do everything I ask without question and will answer each command with 'yes master' or 'yes sir'. You will promptly answer all questions quickly and honestly. I do not like repeating myself.” he paused. “Is that clear?”

Alex simply stared, glaring as hard as he could. “I'm not some dog you can order around.”

Jacob had a dark smile fall over his face at the statement. “You are going to be so much fun.” His big hand reached up and grabbed the other from behind his neck, digging his fingers until Alex could only feel the stabbing pain in his head and was forced to fall to the ground. “I'll say that again. Is that clear?”

Alex said nothing, even as the man's fingers tightened.

“You really want to have a bad start, don't you?” He heard the man 'tut tut' above his head. “Fine then. We'll play it your way.” He pushed Alex ahead of him, steering him by the strong grip on his neck, chuckling when the young man stumbled due to his quick pace. Eventually, they were down in the basement, surrounded by all manner of devices Alex had only heard about in joking passing from other people. He was strapped to one that looked like a big 'X', sighing when the man's hand finally left is neck, though his apprehension was growing.

He could hear Jacob fumbling around, looking for something, his ears trying to create an image for his eyes to see. “My rules, Alex. Are they clear?”

Alex stared ahead at the wall.

Something quickly whipped through the air lashing at his lower back. Alex felt himself yelp, despite his attempts at remaining quiet.

“Are they clear?”

Another whoosh and another lick from the whip.

“Are they clear?”

The stinging pain was spreading and Alex couldn't tell if he was sweating or bleeding. Everywhere the instrument went it burned and when the injuries criss crossed it become doubly painful. Within ten strokes Alex found himself screaming with every one, his shame burning his cheeks. Each time Jacob would ask the same question.

“Are they clear?”

His calm voice was maddening. It was as though the man was incapable of anger. Alex himself losing it, his mind a whirlwind of pain as the lashings crossed against old injuries. It was a compounding pain, that only grew worse as time went by and doubled each time.

“Are they clear?”

This time the lash hit in such a way that, had Alex not been tethered, he would had fallen from the pain. “Yes! Yes, they're clear!” He heard himself shout, his shame all the more unbearable as he did so. He bit his lip and blinked, trying to hold back the tears.

Another lashing made him scream.

“Yes what?”

“Y-yes sir, your orders are clear.”

There was a pause and Alex could hear his heavy breathing, his skin flushed and the pain spreading all across his body.

“Now see, that wasn't so hard.” Jacob walked around the room, examining the handiwork he had left on his prize's back. “You'll find that I can be a kind master. I'm not going to expect you to be nude or to kneel to me at all times. I'm not going to force you to ask me to go to the bathroom or to sleep on the floor. I simply want you to do what I want, when I want.” He approached the quivering young man and dragged a finger down the fresh marks causing Alex to jump. “Is that clear?”

“Y-yes sir.”

///

Oh ho ho ho...*eye brow wiggle*

R&R because I honestly don't know what to say about this one *shrug*