Slave to Love

Slave to Love

A slave/master type of story - I understand I am not a professional and look for criticism and advice on how I can improve my writing :)

published on October 29, 2012124 reads 60 readers 24 not completed
Chapter 1.
Chapter one: Remembering

Chapter one: Remembering

Selling and buying innocent people is sick. Downright sick and wrong in every way. Letting a playful innocent girl suffer or Samaritan’s be treated like a thing and not a person; no. It’s inhumane.

But… What about bad people? Criminals. Gangs. Menaces to society. Is that right? Can you buy and sell them like objects? Let people use them, torture them, scar them in many ways than one? Is that morally right?

I don’t know. Do bad people deserve bad things?

It seems logical. But how far do you go?

That far that you’re at a point where people are in cages, being tortured and starved to death with little hygiene and quality of life only to be bought by a random stranger who will treat them in the same conditions if not worse? To let bad people be ripped away from their loved ones and stick them in animalistic cages, down grade them to worthless objects and ban them from fresh air or sunlight for years? Let them be raped, tortured, beat up, neglected, stripped of all rights and even murdered?

Because that’s what’s happening. Every day to bad people.

Including me.

I have been stuck in this cage for a long time. Although it’s hard to tell. Never knowing when day starts and when night ends. Never knowing the time, the month, the year. I don’t know how old I am. I don’t know how much I’ve aged or how much I’ve spent in places like this. I’ve been used and I’ve been used again. Like a recycled toy that’s slowly losing it’s touch. If I haven’t already.
I wouldn’t know whether I was asleep or not if it wasn’t for the constant torture filled screams. Or maybe it’s the thudding pain of every bone in my body. Or the cold that bites me. Or the numbing hunger that gnaws at my stomach. It’s hard to tell.

I’ve been auctioned off before. It was one of the few times I saw daylight again. It blinded my eyes and the fresh air felt foreign on my tongue and in my lungs. I was still in chains, stumbling around like a new born calf. It was like I’d never used my legs before – which had been nearly right as I had been stripped from the privilege of walking for probably years. I remember the greedy faces of men and women judging me. It was mostly men there – looking for a toy to play with.

I didn’t know how old I was until the auctioneer said I was fourteen. I remember feeling pride of being such an older age than I was like a naïve child. I was taken at twelve – I was now a teenager! But then it hit me that I’d been in the horrid system for two years and my happiness was drowned by the pain.

I was bought by an old man and after a month of use I was taken back into the system after trying to escape too many times. I was branded as a troublesome one (a large iron-branded ‘T’ on my chest) which was painful. I remember how it felt. I was just an animal to them.

People, the rick folk, they come round to see us in our cages. A private buy away from the auction that cost’s extra. They don’t usually come down here to us troublesome one’s – too much trouble, too much effort. We’ve already been used – second hand. No one wants that.

Would you want something that’s forgotten and recycled?

There was one time, when a woman with her family came down. It seemed they were all looking for a family pet. Sick. Taking your young children to this place – full of torture and pain. But it seemed like a normal family occurrence as neither of the two children were fazed. It made me feel disgusted. I remember when the woman’s long finger pointed at me and my cage opened. I was too weak to try and run – what was the point? Too hungry, too tired, too weak, too much pain.

I was dragged out by my hair. I remember the feeling of the guards grubby hands grabbing my throat and slamming me into the wall. My head lolling to the side because I was too weak to keep it straight myself. I remember being beat till I did. It wasn’t until blood came dripping out my mouth that I mustered the strength to face the family.

I opened my black eyes and stared at them. I felt bare. Naked. Blood dripping down me. My hair bald in some places from where it had been torn out, bruises covering any visible skin and my poor unhealthy weight. But who cared of my appearance? Who cared of anything anymore?

There was a woman, her two children and a man. The man looked different to the family and his piercing blue eyes had stared into my black ones giving me a head ache. I remembered him. I remembered his face. And throughout the time I have been locked away in this cage I still remember.  

The family soon left. Left me to the hands of hell where they beat me till I was near death. I wanted death and welcomed it with open arms but they are clever. Letting you think you’re on your death bed but never really killing you. They make you want to die yet they never let you take that easy way out. What was the fun in that? No, keep you alive. Let you receive more means of torture. Much more amusing. Much more entertaining.

But I am bad. Bad, bad, bad.

So I deserve everything.

**

Aren't I just a bundle of joy writing about unicorns and fairies ?? ^.^ It may seem a bit....morbid right now but this is (kind of) a love story and it (kind of) get's better so it's not all depressing! :)
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Comments (24)

Maya_swan
PLZ WRITE MORE
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on June 14, 2015
Maya_swan
Write more please!!!!! I love it!!!!!!
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on June 03, 2015
britbrat02
OMG!!!! that was amazing. Please keep writing. this is very ineresting.
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on March 02, 2015
The_Panda_Otaku
I..dont know what to think of this.Great story maybe not one of my preferred storylines but still great.Umm yeah..
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on April 08, 2014
TwinSofia
Very very COOLIO!!!!! Please write more soon!!!
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on September 13, 2013
ChokolatLover
We want more! Lalalala, we want more!
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on August 01, 2013
kattie
dude!! its so good
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on June 21, 2013
ManDee
MORE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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on June 20, 2013
killedbythesketchbook
Please carry on but don't put comments at the start it's quite annoying T.T
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on May 21, 2013
Thehost
cary on
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on April 27, 2013
That.1.Otaku.Named.Maya
please write more.
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on April 27, 2013
That.1.Otaku.Named.Maya
i was crazy happy when u added chapter 2. this is an amazing story that should be published for everyone acroos the nation should read. your an amazing writer. (:
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on April 11, 2013
Thehost
Cary on please!!!
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on April 10, 2013
Rainbow_Bird
A little boring at the first part I skipped through the page you explain the first concept to much.
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on April 10, 2013
wolfness
This is amazing. Simply amazing. You have great talent, this story shouldn't be on a random website, it should be published. I have no words to describe the meaning of this, the artistic skill with which you weave your tale. It's perfect in every way I can see, but who a, I? It's who you are, and who you could be.
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on March 22, 2013
Idiot_Killjoy
MORE!!!!
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on March 22, 2013
blank
Love it!!!!!!!!!!!!
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on March 16, 2013
That.1.Otaku.Named.Maya
Love the story. PLEASE WRITE MORE! I love the story.
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on March 15, 2013
EvilAngel1490
Please write more!!! I wanna know what happens next!
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on February 13, 2013
GlowingAndFading
its really good
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on December 24, 2012
Nobody.07
read my story, please!! you are a really great writer, I would like critiques from you!
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on November 06, 2012
Nobody.07
Wow. The beginning was intriguing. The middle was amazing. The end was captivating. I feel the pain, despair, everything. You said in the beginning: "I am not a professional" but this is really amazingly written stuff, especially the idea of it itself. Wonderful! Only suggestion, in the next chapter can we know more about her? birthmarks, # of past families, See More▼
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on November 06, 2012
Cassia
Wow. That's incredible. I love it
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on October 29, 2012
Dedeea
Looks like a true story to me. A sad one. Good luck further.
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on October 29, 2012