Title: The Hearts Whisper

Author/pseudonym: Starchild

Series: Yes.

Date First Posted: March 5 2001

Rating: NC-17-Slash

Fandom: Original

Pairings: Lots

Archive: Yes if you think its any good. Just Let me no where please.

Feedback: Is more than welcome at innocentstarchild@hotmail.com constructive criticism please.

I know my spelling and grammar are off Sorry about that.

Notes: Theses Guys are all Mine. I created them. They came from my twisted imagination. The
whole shebang. Please ask before using them.

Warnings: This has not been Beta'd. I'm playing around with the idea and haven't sought out a beta at this point. The following contains slash M/M sexual activity or implied relationship between members of the same sex. If this offends you, then don't read it! It also contains Slavery in its most primal form but in a modern setting. If this offends you then don't read it!

In future series pieces It may or may not contain violence or rape Again If this Offends you then don't read it! <G> I'm also a slow worker so if you are one of those people who can't wait till part two (Like Me)you might want to wait before you read it. I'm not promising the end is anywhere in sight. I've used theses characters in the NON-cybor world and they are still going strong. In a very none M/M kind of way lol. Oh yes and I'm kinda new to the world of slash.

The Hearts Whisper
By Starchild

Its funny how your whole world can suddenly become some place unrecognizable to you. One day you see things a certain way. Then the next complete disarray and mayhem. Simply because your world changes, maybe I shouldn't say simply. Its sort of a contradiction to my point. My world didn't change simply. It shifted momentously in a few brief minutes. My world changed in the amount of time it took for me to stop an answer what seemed like a few harmless questions. The next instant I was alone cold and terrified . Locked in a room I had never seen before. Trying in vain to remember what had happened.

I remember hearing my own screams as if at a distance.

Realization of a sort came to me. I was wet, In different cloths, I was in a bedroom, A rather elegant bed room at that.

My hand flew up to my hair. I ran my hands throw it. Something was wrong it felt different. Like it does after a trim, soft and silky. Then My hand grazed the recently pierced ear.

I was stricken with terror. Why! was the thunderous question. Some where inside me I new I was in measurable trouble. Instinct told me something was far beyond wrong. Panic had grabbed my heart even before the door had opened.

I found myself looking at a malevolent harsh face. I new nothing good was going to come of this. I thought I might die. This could be it. My last days in this world. This man was obviously demented, Kidnaping a teenage boy. Terror immobilized me. I was in serous danger of ceasing to
breath from shear panic.

The wicked grin that spread across his face was evidence he found this amusing if nothing else. I wanted to bolt, to scream. At the second begging was quickly presenting its self as an option. Fear still rooted me to the spot. As he approached reason soon came back in to my mind. I remembered some one in my self defense class had said "those who do not fight off or at least attempt to fight off an attacker. Are the ones found dead in ditches" Self preservation kicked in and I moved rapidly to make a brake for it.

It had been a good-for-nothing move as I was grabbed and pitched roughly back in the direction of the bed. I came sharply in contact with the side of the bed railing. I winched in pain as it connected with a rib. My breath caught. I tried to stand, but the razor edge of the pain brought me
harshly back down to the floor in a crumpled heap. I cursed myself for my lack of durability.

Boots came in to my line of sight. I froze again. Damn my ability to be a man. Fear of further pain keep me in a subservient heap at his feet. I was sure the rib was broken. It couldn't hurt so much other wise. He sat down on the edge of the bed. I didn't dare look up as he placed his hand in my
hair and stroked almost gently.

"You sure are a pleasureful little slave" It was said with kindness that shocked me. "Fear is such a fine trait" the stroking continued softly as my shoulders began a violent tremor "Shhhhhhh Pet" He cooed. "It will be ok Shhhhhhhh" there was a pause "You should control your emotions child."

It was a reproaching to say the least. I couldn't bring my self to look up. Panic was fast drawing near again. I knew I had to run, had to get away.

When his hand brushed my cheek. The panic seized me again and I bound for the door. I was cut short by a man. He was huge. Now I really did feel like a child. He grasped my forearms and gave me a stern shake. I winced in fear as well as pain. I might have even whimpered. I'm not sure I was placed almost gently back at the other mans feet. That's when I realized I was crying. I must have been for some time because my cheeks were completely covered by moisture.

"Foolish" it was said with some amusement. He had fully expected me to bolt. Just as I had. "Can you be good little one" it was asked in almost a detached unconcerned fashion. I wasn't supposed to answer that much was clear. "Your quite pretty little one"

My shaking was quickly advancing again

"Calm your self " Again with the child-like reproach. "That's better little one"

I wasn't even sure what he was refereeing to.

"he willmake a fine slave Teacher"

"If you say so" the other mans tone some what indeterminate "Seems a bit ahhh shall we say venturesome to me"

The man laughed a bit "soon as he finds him self off the leash I think he will bolt" He paused analyzing me "He's a runner I can see it in him"

"He'll break"

"Or bolt" the man called teacher laughed "I don't see him being the compliant little slave. To much fear in him"

"Fear can be tamed as can aggression" The hand began its stroking again "he's quite beautiful"

"Beauty can be deadly"

"Anything can be deadly but I appreciate the lesson Teacher"

"Welcome, But he may not be worth the trouble. why not just turn him over to the pleasure house. Your getting a bit old to be training new pleasures"

I could tell it was meant to be a joke.

"Old now am I" I could hear the laughter in his voice "Maybe when I reach a couple thousand then I might stop seeking to train my new pleasures" He paused "Fear alone will keep
this one at bay"

"We will see brother. we will see" There was a pause "Bring the new pet. We should start sooner rather than later"

I was hauled to my feet by my forearm. As I straightened my body to comply with the unverbalized command the pain quickly made its self remembered as my ribs protested with
sheer agony and my knees folded. I just knew my rib was broken. For a few brief seconds both men were forgotten as I struggled just to breath throw the pain.

When I raised my eyes I was looking straight in to the face of the man who had caused such injury. He was only looking on as if he had a cause to be some what concerned. All the
malevolence gone from his face "Can you stand or should we call for the Doc." It was said with out any sign of malice.

I only looked on caught off guard by the sudden change in attitude suddenly he was speaking to me as if I might really be human

"Well are you ok or should we try this again" it was said with kindness as he reached for my arm I
winced anticipating the pain that was to follow. His hand only rested on my arm "Call Slade I think we might have a broken rib here he's a bit more fragile than I thought"

"He's Human what did you expect Panther" Those words caught in my head. He's human, what was that supposed to imply. "We will have to fix that as soon as he is papered"

"There is nothing wrong with fragility Panther. Well not if you learn some control anyway"

"Control is not my problem"

"Humans can be quite fragile. Might not have him long if you can't control that reflex of yours"


END PART 1
To Be continued...........