Five years later, June 2009:

The whip fell against his skin, biting only deep enough to truly hurt. The whip would not be allowed to leave any scars behind for it would be a great shame for his skin to blemished in any way. The whip fell against his back again. This was his punishment for trying to escape. Again. You would think that after the five years that he had spent here, he would have learned that escape was futile. He bit his lips in defiance against his master. He would not allow the old man make him cry. Never again would he allow himself to cry. That only ever gave them satisfaction. It showed them that they had broken him and that he was weak. He would never allow that. Never again. The whipping continued until he blacked out from the pain.

When he woke, he found himself in a familiar room and he felt his lips curl in distaste. He sat up and looked around the room. There, over in the corner, sitting in a straight back chair was his so called master. Basile Blanc. A sixty year old Frenchmen who had a fetish for the skin of young boys. The old man motioned him to come kneel at his side but he refused. Frowning, the old man stood and made his way to the bed. He raised the cane he held and brought it down on his ribs. He refused to cry out at the pain radiating up his side.

"When I call you boy, you better come!" Basile yanked him up by his hair and tossed him onto the floor. The cane came down on the back of his thighs. "Get to work you lazy brat."

The young blond, blue eyed boy stood and made his way out of the bedroom and out of the mansion. He was the gardener and as such it was his duty to garden and to look pretty while doing so. There were eleven boys other than him that worked at Basile Blanc's mansion. All of them called the old man 'master' except for him. He refused and as such, often found himself being severely punished. The boy pulled on his gloves, the only clothing that he was allowed to where besides a pair of thin soled sandals. None of the boys who worked at the mansion were allowed clothing. Even in the winter they went without. Thank goodness that the mansion was kept warm or they would all end up freezing to death.

Not that Basile would allow that to happen. He made sure to keep 'his boys' in the best of health. There was even a doctor on the premises to attend to all their needs. All the boys had accepted their lives here as it was a good life. All except him of course. The others had given into their so called 'master' and lived to satisfy the old man's every need. Everything from household chores to even sex. He asked and they complied. Except for him. He refused to give in, he refused to be that man's slave. To keep his hold over the boys, Basile made sure to strip them of their names and give them knew ones. He had done that to him when he had come here all those years ago. Everyday he was called by this new name, William and he hated it. That was not his name. For five years he had rebelled against the name, never accepting it and unlike the other boys, he never forgot his real name. The name that his uncles had called him. The name that his daddy had called him. The name that he was born with, the name he had now and the name that he will always have was Akihito. His name was Akihito.

~VF~

The nine year old boy ran for all that he was worth. He wold not succumb to the way of life at Basile Blanc's mansion. He was better than that. He ran and ran. Ignoring his torn sandals and the burning in his chest. It was cold now that night had fallen but he could not stop to rest. They would notice his absence soon, they would be coming after him soon. He ran and ran, never noticing the man with the gun. He felt a sharp pain in the back of his neck but he continued to run until the world swam around him and he collapsed to the ground. The world around him began to grow dark and he could hear the sound of feet approaching him. He felt rough hands pick him up and he felt the hard shoulder that took the air from his lungs as he was tossed over it. Consciousness left as the big man made his way back to the mansion. Another failed attempt at escape.

When he woke, he found himself in an unfamiliar room. His arms were chained above his head to a wall and his legs were spread wide apart and chained to the wall on either side of his body. He tried to move but there were no slack in any of chains. He looked around in the hope that he could at least get a sense of where he was but there were no windows. He didn't know how long he was there and no one ever came. He found himself unable to stay awake no matter how hard he tried to stay awake. It was like there was some kind of outside force making him sleep against his will.

It felt like that his stomach was trying to eat itself. His mouth felt dry and sticky and he was so tired despite all the sleep that he had gotten. As more time passed, his head began to hurt and his skin became dry.

He was so thirsty. He felt as if he had been out in a desert for months without any reprieve. His head spun, making him sick to his stomach. He closed his eyes hoping that some sleep would help.

Icy cold water was crashing down on his head. He woke with a start, spluttering and trying to catch his breath that the cold had stolen away. More water was poured over him and this time he opened his mouth so that he could quench his thirst. The water was replaced with ruff hands and as he sat there dizzy and tired and oh so hungry, chained to the wall, the ruff hands beat him into unconsciousness. This pattern was repeated again and again. Sometimes they would stick him with needles that were attached to bags. He tried to ask what they were for but all he received for an answer was a slap across the face. On and on it went. The only comfort he had came while slept. Long lost memories of a daddy that had loved him and a dream that his beloved daddy would one day find him again.

~VF~

Bright light spilled into the dark room, hurting the hazel eyes that had grown so used to the darkness. Fearing another beating, he closed his eyes and tried to keep calm. He didn't want to give in. Not again. He had already done that far to many times since he has been here. To his shock, he felt the chains around his wrists and ankles release. He looked up to see a familar face. Tears streamed from his sad hazel eyes. To weak to move, he allowed the man to pick him up and carry him from the room.

"Oh my poor precious boy. Don't worry baby, daddy has you now. No one will hurt you ever again."

~VF~