A Heart to Trade

Last edited: 11/7/10

Zane was the first to wake the next morning. He softly grunted as he sat groggily up, his hair pointing messily in different directions and his tired eyes almost closed. Noticing his morning erection pointing proudly outwards, he mumbled to himself and rubbed his eyes as he slowly left the bed. Pulling his underwear up around his waist, he looked aimlessly around the room. Damn, what time was it? Zane turned and stared blankly at the clock hanging high upon the far wall. Exactly 6:00; earlier than when he usually woke. He irritatingly waddled to the bed and grasped the sheets to cover himself. Aminri stirred and let out a whimper as he felt the side of the bed sink under Zane’s weight. “Zane? Good morning…” he said softly.

“I’m sorry I woke you. Go back to sleep.”

“Ng…” Aminri sat up and brushed his hair back. “What time is it?”

“6:00, is what the clock says.”

“That’s when I usually get up…” Aminri got up from the bed, much more energetically than Zane did, and pulled the blanket around his nude body as he went to the wardrobe to get dressed for the morning.

“What do you mean? When does breakfast usually start?” Zane asked, his eyes drifting unconsciously to Aminri’s exposed ass.

“About 8:30 every day. Why?” Aminri replied nonchalantly as he shuffled through his clothes.

“What do you do for the two hours before that, then?” Zane sternly crossed his arms.

“Whatever Claudia tells me I’m to do. Usually they are things like helping the chef prepare…breakfast.” Aminri paused briefly, realizing that he had said too much.

“You?! Do the chores?” Zane abruptly turned the boy around and stared angrily into his eyes.

“Y-yes…that’s right…” Aminri began to grow fearful. “Is that bad?”

“Is that ba—of course it’s bad! You’re the son of the head of this house, shouldn’t you be out going horseback riding or reading or something?”

The boy dropped the clothes that he was carrying and picked them up with one hand as he held the blanket up with the other, only to have them snatched angrily away by Zane.“And these—!” he hung the rackety red sweater up by his hands. “Why are you wearing things like this? Why aren’t you wearing nicer things, like what you wore yesterday?”

“Ah, well…my father only bought those for yesterday. Most of my clothes are like the one you’re holding…”

“What? You mean you wear shabby old clothes like these?”

“W-well…yes, I do--”

“I won’t accept it!” Zane exclaimed, his anger reflecting clearly on his face. “We’re going to get you some new clothes as soon as we bring you back to the estate!”

Aminri began to reject, but stopped as he realized that it would be rude to not accept his offer. And deep down he knew that he did, in fact, long for some much nicer, newer clothes. He looked back at the clock. I wonder if Claudia’s looking for me… the boy thought.

“Is there something wrong?” Zane sighed as he slowly began to calm down.

“Ah, not exactly. Claudia usually comes around by now to assign a job to me.”

Zane sighed and put his hands on his hips. “I really don’t know why you let them treat you like this…”

“It’s alright,” Aminri said, smiling. Zane knew better, though. He could sense the boy’s solemn mood. “I mean, my father lets me live in this beautiful estate, and I get very good food to eat. I’m quite used to being put to work, anyways. It’s what I was born to do, after all—”

“Don’t be ridiculous! You’re a boy! The son of an earl! Don’t you understand? And on top of that, you’re going to be my husband!” Zane grabbed his shoulders and shook him as he raised his voice.

“I’m sorry…” Aminri whispered, frightened. Was he going to strike him? Beat him? Was that the sort of man his fiancé was?

But Zane didn’t; instead he lightly pushed him away and turned around, scratching his head. “Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault at all.”
He wanted to ask this boy so many things; why he was being put to work in the first place, what happened to his mother, why he had so many scars on his body (he had noticed them quite a long time ago, though he failed to acknowledge them; he was so caught up in the moment…) “Claudia most definitely isn’t coming. Not if the duke and I are here,” he commented instead.

Aminri looked shyly down. “…should we go back to bed, then?”

“Well,” Zane laughed, “I’m quite woken up, now.”

Looking guiltily downwards, Aminri whispered an apology, though barely audible. “It’s alright.” Zane thought for a moment. “Don’t get dressed yet, though. Wait until later.”

The boy paused, then nodded in resignation and began to fold the clothes he had chosen on top of a chair. Zane took a seat on the bed and looked thoughtfully at the boy across from him. From what he’d heard so far, the boy had led a cruel life, and the man wondered what he himself would do in such a situation. Would he reluctantly accept a life similar to a slave’s at the hand of his own father? Would he rebel? Would he simply go mad? There was no way of knowing, and Zane realized that he probably didn’t want to know anytime soon. He was rather grateful for his wealthy, loving father and his esteemed lifestyle altogether. And, he had to admit, he was quite spoiled by it as well. “Ari?” Zane asked.

“Yes?”

“How old are you?”

The boy turned to him and headed to the bed. “I’ll be turning 21 in a few months. And you?”

“21? I’m 27. Rather old, I know.”

“Not really. You most definitely don’t look that old. You look Harold’s age…”

Zane chuckled and pulled the boy onto his lap, holding him in his arms. “I suppose I get my age defiant looks from my father. He’s 50, and yet he looks like he’s around 35. It’s astonishing, really.”

Aminri nodded in agreement. A knock came at the door then. “Um…My lord? It’s Claudia, may I speak with the young master for a few minutes?”
Zane frowned and held Aminri tighter. “Are you here to give him a job?”

The opposite side of the door was silent. Claudia fidgeted in place, unsure of what to say and was beginning to grow irritated at Aminri. The little devil was probably looking all confident in that room, with the lord protecting him! “Y-Yes…I am.”

“Then you may not. Ari is to remain with me until I leave. You will have to assign someone else his job for today.”

“Yes, my lord…” Claudia mumbled, gripping her trousers in anger as she left.

Zane sighed and turned the boy, who was sitting tensely on his lap, around. He examined the boy up and down; pale goose bumps lined his arms, while his pert nipples were erect. His large, hazel eyes were looking up at him. They’re so pretty… Zane brought him closer and kissed his temple.

The man wrapped his arms around him. The boy looked down at the hardwood floor and wondered…was the man actually falling for him? Well, Aminri wasn’t in love. He couldn’t be. Not with a person he was being forced to be with; he just couldn’t accept that, no matter how much he thought about it. He wanted to be in love with someone he chose himself. He wanted freedom. Just once.

Aminri’s eyes had a dreamy feel to them; half-lidded and distant looking. Slightly concerned, Zane brushed his hair away. The boy looked up and feigned a smile, though Zane could see it in his eyes. The man began to lean closer to him, wanting to steal every bit of Aminri's lips, and realized that they had never truly kissed before. Yes, they’re lips had brushed, but it was never a true kiss. A kiss lovers made. And yet, they had had sex anyway. He leaned back again and looked the beautiful boy in the eyes. This was his fiancé; a kiss was more than obligatory. Zane glided his thumb down Aminri’s chin, wondering what the boy was thinking about. Slowly he pulled him forward and kissed him, deep and passionately. Aminri gasped as their lips touched and gripped the bed sheets.

Zane gently grasped the boy’s groin and whispered, “Is this alright?”

Aminri pulled away from him and looked down, his mind beginning to wander. His family… “Ari?” Or his freedom… “Ari, is something wrong?”

“No. No, it’s not alright, I don’t want to,” Aminri said softly, tears forming in his eyes.

Tears…how silly, the boy thought. Just like a child.

“Alright, that’s fine with me. If you don’t want to, we won’t.”

Zane pulled him into his arms and cradled him. He didn’t know what had gotten into this boy; they had been conversing quite freely earlier. But he was definitely upset, and he felt obligated to comfort him. This fiancé of his…

~ * ~ * ~

Breakfast was equally as tense as dinner had been, except Harold had been even angrier, thus adding to Zane’s irritability. Lady Parselle constantly reminded him to exhibit good manners in front of their guests, but Harold ignored her. Instead he downed his milk even louder, glaring swords at Zane all the while. Finally, Zane replied as he tried to calm himself, “Is there something you’d like to tell me, The oh so Honorable Harold?”

“Zane,” Anthony whispered as he looked warningly at his son.

“Well, my lord, I couldn’t help but overhear how much fun you and my brother were having last night.”

“My god, Harold, how—” the earl snapped.

“Earl Parselle, I don’t suppose your son’s milk is alcoholic?” Zane raised an eyebrow and grinned as he noticed Aminri trying hard to contain a chuckle.

“Why you…” Harold stood from his chair.

“Greg! Joseph! Take Harold to his room,” Lady Parselle ordered, disgusted by her stepson’s actions.

“Quiet! You’re not even my real mother! You’re just an imposter!” Harold exclaimed.

Bram, forgetting the Benningtons completely, chimed in, “That’s right, you’re just a whore pretending to be our mother! Your first child even drowned when you went boating with him, didn’t he? Hardly a parent!”

Flustered and horrified of the returning memory, tears began to emerge in Lady Parselle’s eyes. “It was an accident…” she whimpered.
The other children rose from their seats and shouted back at the two in defense of their mother. Zane, fascinated by the events taking place, leaned back and calmly observed. Duke Anthony, on the other hand, sat awkwardly in his seat looking back and forth at the uprising. Earl Parselle was shouting over everyone in an attempt to calm the situation, but to no avail. “Well, what about Aminri’s mother?” one of the much younger children said. “She was certainly more of a whore than ours.”

To this the earl did not reply. “Well, that I can agree with you on,” Bram said. “But that little Mavalian bitch doesn’t have anything to do with this!”

Aminri let out a whimper at the statements. He had never met the woman before, but his mother was still his mother. Anthony, finally having had enough of the scene and sensing the boy’s tenseness asked if the two and Zane could be excused. “Yes, yes…I’m so terribly sorry about all this. You may take a walk in the garden, if you’d like.”

“Thank you,” the duke replied as he bowed slightly and motioned for Aminri to come with him.

Knowing that his father wanted to talk privately with the boy, Zane, almost shouting over everyone else, said, “I’ll be up in my room reading, father.”

“Alright,” Anthony replied, nodding.

He took Aminri out to the garden, as the earl had suggested, and sighed contentedly at the warm weather. “It’s quite a nice day, isn’t it?”

“Yes, sir, it is,” the boy meekly replied.

“Aminri…quite a nice name. Unusual, though. Is it Mavalian?”

“Yes, sir. My mother gave it to me. Father says that she was very traditional…”

“I see. Have you ever been to Mavalia? I hear it’s quite a nice country.”

“No, sir, it’s too far away; all the way across the sea. My father would never take me there…I’ve never really been out of the country, now that I think about it.”

The duke turned to him and smiled warmly. “Oh, really now? Well then, I’ll make sure to bring you along when the family goes on another outing.”

Aminri smiled back, grateful for the statement. They continued slowly along the path as they chatted about one another, and, to Aminri’s relief, the boy found that the duke was quite a pleasant person. “Why are you leaving so soon?” Aminri asked, “Why don’t you take me with you?”

“Right now my family members are at home, and because of certain…circumstances, it would be far too hectic if you came with us now. The reason why I came today was to iron out a few agreements with your father. Zane only came so he could meet more closely with you.”

Aminri looked down at his feet and remembered the first time he had met Zane. He was wearing shabby, ragged clothes and was sitting in the lounge room of the Parselle estate. The man had looked so intimidating, with his calculating stare and his unexpected questions. The boy had been so horrified that day. First he was on his knees in the garden weeding (just like his regular agenda) and before he knew it he was a candidate for marrying Lord Zane Bennington. He couldn’t completely grasp the situation, and he wasn’t sure why the duke had gone through the trouble of arranging the two to meet. But he was grateful, nonetheless, for a chance at escaping the cruelty that was the Parselles. “So, Aminri. What do you think of Zane?”

The boy looked up, surprised at the sudden question. “He is…kind.”

“Really? Does he treat you well?”

He bit his lip. “Yes, he’s very kind.”

Anthony, not completely satisfied by the boy’s brief answers, decided to push further. “Does he make you uncomfortable? Do you think he’s too close-to-quarters?”

“No, not at all! He’s been very good to me so far…”

“Is that so?” Anthony replied, glancing at his pocket watch. “Ah, we should head back. It’s almost time for us to head out to the train station…”

~ * ~ * ~

Aminri was sitting on the bed as Zane gathered his things. “Well, I suppose I’ll be back again in five days.” Zane smiled.

The boy smiled back, but tensed as the man leaned in to kiss him goodbye. Just as their lips were touching, Claudia appeared at the doorway. “Um, my lord? Are you ready?”

“Yes, I am,” Zane replied as he straightened his shirt and lifted his bags. Claudia went to help him, but he shook his head and carried them out himself.

Aminri followed Zane outside, where a large, adorned coach awaited him and Anthony. One of father’s private ones… the boy thought.

Zane waved briefly at Aminri as he followed his father into the carriage, a slight feeling of worry entering his mind. He hoped that his family would treat him better after they left, or at least not any worse than they already were. But what could he do? It wasn’t his place to demand such a thing of the earl, and he most certainly couldn’t tell his father, lest it ruin the two family’s treaty. He could only pray to a god he didn’t believe in. The door was shut behind him, and, with a strike of the reigns, the coach left.

The boy had a feeling of uncertainty as it faded into the distance; what was he going to do now? Was he going to keep cleaning and doing a servant’s work? Well, that was certainly what Claudia had in mind, for when the coach was out of sight, she marched sternly towards him. “You! You missed your duties this morning!”

Aminri turned around, slightly offended. “Zane was here. How was I supposed to work?”

She struck him across the cheek and squared her shoulders proudly. “Don’t get so confident! You’ll be doing double the time for today! Don’t think that he’ll be here to save you, because he won’t!”

The boy stared at her, and to Claudia it looked as if he thought she was stupid. In reality the boy just didn’t know how to reply, but she struck him again and shoved a bucket into his chest. “You’re to clean the windows, the floors, and the laundry. Be done by dinner time, or I’ll have you beaten.”

With that she stomped angrily away, and for a moment Aminri thought he was going to cry. For what was her anger for? Worth? Hitting and yelling at him would do no good. He slowly walked back to the mansion, his head hung low with dejection. The bucket was empty other than an old rag, which was sitting wrinkled at the bottom. Aminri went to the kitchen and placed the bucket beneath the faucet, sniffling violently.
The upstairs floors were filthy, with blots of dirt and other mysterious substances coated on the floor. When he had left the room that morning, he was sure that they were fine… It appeared that the other slaves were keen on making his life miserable. He sighed heavily and got on his knees, dirtying his slacks, as he began to scrub as hard as he could. By the time he had finished the first floor, his arms were aching and his breath was heavy. But he was satisfied, nonetheless, as he could see his blurred reflection looking back at him in the tiles. He stood, wiping the last of the substances and grime from his pants, and headed to the next floor. As he stared at the sight behind him, his satisfaction disappeared. Muddy footprints had been newly painted on the floor, and at the end of the trail stood a snickering Bram, who was returning from a riding session. Aminri wanted to storm towards his brother and strike him at that moment, but his senses told him otherwise. He lifted the rag once again and cleaned the mess as his brother silently retreated up the stairs.

Thankfully, Bram did not return to bother Aminri anymore after that, allowing the boy to complete the rest of his assignments. His work was hard and exhausting, but in the end it had done him well. He sat at the dinner table, eating his meal graciously. Although it was much less extravagant than the rest of his family’s, he was relieved to have something to fill his empty stomach.

Dinner had begun to end when the two of the much younger children dismissed themselves and ran to their room. They both had dirtied their clothes carelessly with food, though neither seemed to care. The earl was not appeased, though. Aminri, now much refreshed, was ordered to go after them and make sure that they behaved. This was his job almost every night, to his dismay. The children were chaotic, and it didn’t help that they despised him. “Shouldn’t the caretaker look after them?” Aminri had protested.

But his father had shaken his head and angrily ordered the boy to go after them. He just finds it amusing to watch me fail, Aminri thought.
The youngest of the two hid behind the door to the bedroom at the sight of Aminri heading up the stairs. They whispered to one another, then giggled, and sprinted down the hall. “Hey! Don’t run, you could hurt yourself!” Aminri called after them, running as well.

The older stuck his tongue out and, grasping the other child’s hand, ran at a faster pace. As Aminri followed them to throughout the house, he was softly cursing himself for being so out of shape. After only a few minutes of pursuit he found himself worn-out beyond belief, and yet he continued to run after the children. But as they reached the end of the hall, the children turned abruptly to the left, and, catching himself, Aminri stopped just before crashing into a porcelain vase sitting atop a pedestal. His hip had gently pushed the rectangular base, though, sending the vase off balance. The decoration rotated slowly about for a moment, then fell and crashed to the ground before Aminri could stop it. The boy stood in horror at the shards of porcelain which were scattered across the ground. The children emerged into the scene and laughed, seeing clearly Aminri’s coming misfortune. “What’s going on?” Bram came out of his room, but stopped as he saw the earl’s favorite and expensive vase laying broken on the ground. The boy knew that it had been a gift to his father from Aminri’s grandmother just before she had passed away, and so it had been of great value to the earl.

Bram grinned evilly, his eye darkening. “Father!” he called.

“No, Bram, please!” Aminri whispered, grasping his older brother’s forearms.

But Bram shrugged him coldly away as he saw the earl marching down the hall. The man paused, then glared at Aminri, blaming him for the broken vase, even though he hadn’t been told so. The boy flinched and backed instinctively away, only to be stopped by Bram’s body. “…Harold!” the earl commanded, ignoring Bram’s expression of disbelief.

Harold immediately, almost suspiciously so, came from his room down the hall. “Yes, father?”

“I wish to see no more of this little whore,” The earl snarled, “Punish him.”

“B-but father, why can’t I?” Bram whined. “I’m the one who reported to you, afterall.”

“Enough, Bram. You’ll have your fun later.”

Bram pouted, crossing his arms and glaring at his older brother. The eldest son nodded and grabbed Aminri’s arm, taking him away. “Harold please--”

Aminri was taken to Harold’s room down the hall. As the older brother shut the door behind them, he turned and smiled reassuringly. Aminri sighed in relief. “Did you really think I’d do anything to harm you?” Harold said as he stroked his brother’s hair.

Finding the gesture to be awkward, Aminri gently swiped Harold’s hand away and smiled back. “Well, for a moment, yes. Thank you, though.”
The brother’s smile widened. For a few moments afterwards, the two brothers stood in an awkward silence, Aminri glancing up at his brother occasionally, who was staring at him. “Well, I suppose I should go…” Aminri finally said as he begun to leave.

Harold stopped him with his arm. “Don’t. Father will think I didn’t punish you. You’d best stay here, for now.”

Aminri nodded in agreement and retreated back into the room. “Come, sit on the bed,” Harold said as he sat upon it and patted the empty space beside him.

The boy complied and joined Harold on the bed. His brother drew his arm around him, but, unnerved, Aminri rejected him and scooted slightly away. Frowning, Harold gently grasped Aminri’s chin and pulled his closer, as if for a kiss. Gasping, Aminri quickly pushed him away. “Harold! What do you think you’re doing?”

“How cruel you are, Ari!”

“Cruel?” Aminri softly repeated.

“Yes, cruel! You know of my feelings for you. Why do you reject me so disgustingly?”

“I reject you because I don’t love you as you love me! I love you as a brother, nothing more. This isn’t right, Harold.”

“And? Who says it is?”

“Everyone!”

“They are a cruel and hypocritical people, Ari. Just a few decades ago they found people like that…Zane person to be disgusting, too. And look how it is now!”

“That’s different, Harold! That’s far too different!”

“Why? Why do you think so?”

At that Aminri was silent. He simply stared, appalled, at his brother. He had no reason for his opinions; they simply were as they were. He couldn’t explain why he liked music, he couldn’t explain why he liked writing, he couldn’t explain any of it at all. The opinion that incest was forbidden was driven into his mind since his birth, but there was no clear reason why. “Well? Tell me! Why?” Harold demanded again.
Aminri stood from the bed and squared his shoulders. “In this case, I cannot explain. But I do not love you! Even if you were a friend, a woman, I would still react all the same! I do not love you! You are my brother--”

Harold stood as well and promptly struck his brother. Shocked, the boy looked slowly up as he gingerly touched the reddened flesh of his cheek. “You are mad…” he said softly.

“It is you who is mad! You!” Harold lashed out. “Why don’t you love me? After everything I’ve done for you all these years! After everyone in the family has shunned you, called you a whore; after all of this it was I who was the lone person who had an ounce of respect for you!”

“And for that I am unspeakably appreciative. But…”

“You don’t love me? Yes, yes, yes, I’ve heard it already!”

Harold grasped Aminri by the shoulders, forcing his face into his. “Stop it!” Aminri cried, violently shoving his brother away.

The older brother’s body went tumbling backwards, tripping over a table leg and crashing painfully onto the ground. The small wooden table tilted slightly to the side, eventually crashing down onto Harold’s stomach. Gasping, Aminri moved to help his fallen brother up, as he had not intended to cause so much damage. But Harold coldly rejected his aid and moved the table away himself. As the loud banging of wood clashing with the marble floor sounded, Harold stood slowly up, his expression dark and frightening. Aminri took a step back, his eyes widening with surprise.

"Oh, Harold, please...I didn't--"

Harold grasped Aminri's forearm in a painfully tight grasp and began to drag Aminri out of the room. At first the boy staggered, attempting to pull back from his brother and escape. But the young man was surprisingly strong, and continued down the hall to the basement with an uncanny steadiness. The door to the wine cellar was thrown open, a loud, metallic ring echoing in response. Harold, with a deep scowl upon his face, threw the boy onto the cold concrete floor. He then left the room, shutting the door loudly behind him. Aminri could hear the click of the door being locked, and began to despair at the pitch-blackness that drowned him. Was he going to simply leave him here? Well, that wasn’t nearly as bad as what Aminri was expecting. But he was fearful of such darkness; irrational fears were already beginning to form in his mind. He was content with not being beaten, though. He could deal with childish fears, and he found the strong smells of the wine in the cellar oddly relaxing.

By the time Aminri heard keys being inserted into the lock of the door, his eyes had adjusted enough so that he could see the outlines of the various shelves. Light flooded into the room, as well as a sharp and elongated creak, as Harold slowly opened the door. Aminri shielded his pained eyes, but looked up when he heard more than one pair of footsteps. There at the entrance were three people; Harold, and two other men around the same age as his brother. Puzzled and slightly horrified by the idea he had in mind, Aminri stood slowly. “What is this, Harold?” he asked.

His brother only grinned as he started towards him. The boy began to retreat backwards, only to be stopped as his brother wrapped his arm around his waist and drew him into a kiss. Disgusted, the boy shoved Harold away. Again, Harold pressed himself against Aminri, but the boy succeeded in avoiding him worm-like lips. As the boy struggled, he came upon an idea, and kneed his brother in the groin as hard as he could. Harold let out a choked cry of pain and stumbled back, both hands holding his balls protectively. “Fuck! Fuck you! Do it!” Harold cried to the other men, who quickly obliged.

Aminri attempted to run, his eyes wide with fear, only to be stopped by the more muscular of the two men. He lifted him over his shoulder like a sac and went deeper into the storage room, ignoring the boy’s futile attempts at resisting. The second man trailed behind them, rubbing his hands eagerly together. Aminri let out a grunt of pain when he was thrown down to the ground and began to crawl desperately away. But the men would not allow it, and dragged him across the floor into a corner. They tore his clothes off, throwing them haphazardly around the room. The boy let out a sob of hopelessness as he felt hot, naked skin rub against his. But the man on top of him was jerked away by the stronger of the men. “I’m first, you cunt. I called it.”

The other man huffed and retreated to the sidelines as Aminri’s hips were forcibly raised. He could feel something hard and hot rubbing against his buttocks. “Please, Harold, don’t let them do this to me!” Aminri cried out, only to have his mouth stuffed with his own underwear.

The man’s erection dug into him, inch by inch, until finally, without warning, the man shoved him down to the hilt. Aminri screamed, for help and for mercy, but neither would come, and at that moment he wanted to die. The man wasn’t as large as Zane was, the boy couldn’t imagine anyone being larger, but without the proper preparation Aminri felt as though he was being torn in two. The boy struggled as hard as he could, but the man gripped his wrists as if his hands were made of iron, and all hope was lost.

Aminri was being driven into the ground, the invasion draining the life out of him with every thrust. He tried to cry the pain away, to lull himself into unconsciousness, but the torment wasn’t great enough to make him faint, and soon he found that he had run out of tears. The man reached his release and soon Aminri could feel the man’s hot seed flood his insides. The boy collapsed onto the cold ground, completely drained. But they weren’t at all done with him. Not yet. The second man, all the while handling his member eagerly, grabbed the boys hips. The boy protested in whimpers, but when he found that the attempt was too far gone, he turned to begging the man to be gentle. He could hear Harold snicker at the plea, and the man didn’t seem keen on obliging. Aminri could only keep his head down as the second man entered him. He was pounding furiously into him, even harsher than the previous man. The boy made no protests or sounds then, only wishing to be elsewhere. Eventually, although it had taken a while, the man finally released his seed inside of him. One of the men turned to Harold, but he shook his head, his arms crossed. He shrugged and Harold motioned to the two to leave. The door closed behind the three, and again Aminri was left alone, consumed by the darkness and his despair. The boy found that the once intoxicating smells of the cellar was now sickening.

~ * ~ * ~

When he woke, he found himself in his room, laying face up on the hard bed. The air was unusually cold that night; the window had been left wide open. The boy attempted to stand, but flinched as a sharp pain shot through his lower body. He grasped the bed post as he steadied himself, then glanced at the clock. 2:00 in the morning…he sighed and sat back onto the bed. He was dressed in his nightshirt already; he figured that Harold had changed him. A sickness rose in his stomach at the thought of his brother’s prying eyes browsing intently over his naked body. He looked over at the window and sighed, tears forming in his eyes. He longed to be free, to have his own life, to marry who he wanted. None of that would happen, though, not for a long while. The window…it seemed like a gateway to freedom to him, but what did he expect to do? Jump? Jump…yes, the idea seemed quite luxurious, but he doubted himself. He still had a lifetime ahead of him. He was only 20, after all. He would just have to wait…

Five days, it was, until the Benningtons would return for him.