Four months, one week, five days. That's how long Isamu has been there. He had been counting the days; counting the minutes that his dear old Dad had 'presented' him to the equalist leader. Amon had apparently taken a liking to the Sato heir, and poor old Hiroshi saw this as an opportunity to get closer in ranks to him. He didn't care what happened to his only son, which only proved to Isamu how little he knew about his Dad.

At first, he had been difficult. Kicked and fought, bit and shouted, everything and anything he could think of. Amon always found a way to punish him for his disobedience. Nothing but water and bread for a week, forced to walk around the complex with nothing on but a leash, playing games with his mind. On more than one occassion, Isamu thought the older man had won and broken him down, but hearing word that his friends were still looking for him brought him away from the edge.

So, he complied with the orders. He bit his tongue so hard he tasted blood and nodded. He did as he was told, 'like a good pet should' as Amon had called him. He would do everything he asked him to do, all the while counting down the days he was there…

…and when he would escape.

"On your knees, pet." Isamu had been stripped of any clothes save for a pair of pants he would wear when out of the room. He sunk to his knees, keeping his gaze downcast. It was when he heard a zipper did he sigh softly and lift his head up.

"Do your duty, pet." The Sato heir freed Amon from his pants and got to work, moving his hand up and down to get the semi-flaccid member erect and took him in his mouth.

Four months. One week. Six days and counting….