Sitting In A Tree

It was cold and he was still shivering. Sage couldn’t stop thinking about how stupid he had been to try and leave.

The room had no windows. Sage didn’t know how long he had been there when he finally heard heavy footsteps coming down the basement stairs. He had been brought down there hours before by Derek’s men. He had been chained on the floor in a kneeling position, with his hands cuffed above his head and attached to a chain dangling from the ceiling. His knees hurt and his arms ached. His wrists were irritated from pulling on the cuffs all night.

His heart began to race as he looked up to see Derek entering the room. A single bulb that dangled from the ceiling was switched on, illuminating the room in a soft, yellowish glow.

“Good morning, Sage,” Derek said as he approached. In his hand was a coiled whip.

Sage quailed under his gaze. “Derek,” he said, “let me go back upstairs, please…”

“What were you doing outside last night?”

“I just went for a walk, please Derek­–“

The was a slap across his face, sending his head reeling.

“Do not lie to me Sage, not now. I’m not dealing with your bullshit right now.”

Sage pressed his face into his bicep, gasping and trying to hold back tears, internally pleading with himself not to cry. “Look, Derek, please just take the chains off… Can’t we talk about this upstairs? Please.”

Derek squatted down in front of him, meeting him at his eye level. For a moment he watched Sage and said nothing. Then he reached into the pocket of Sage’s jeans. Sage flinched at the touch.

“What are you…”

Derek removed the wad of bills from Sage’s pocket that Sage had stolen from his wallet earlier, money he planned to use to leave. He held the money up in front of Sage’s face and smirked.

“You know,” Derek said, “I was actually starting to trust you. But then you lie to me, destroy my property, steal from me. And you think you can just leave when you want? After everything I’ve given you, everything I’ve done for you? You would be sleeping in a piss filled ally right now sucking dicks for smack just like your junky whore mom if it wasn’t for me. And this is the thanks I get from you?”

Sage shook his head, “No, that isn’t what… I am grateful Derek, I didn’t mean… I just…”

Sage stopped himself short and froze. Derek had pulled a knife out and was holding it to his throat.

“Shut the fuck up, Sage,” Derek said. “You’ll talk when I fucking tell you to.”

Sage bit his lip, trying his best not to move or shake, not to beg. After a moment, Derek stood, stepping behind him with the knife still in hand.

“Do not move unless you want to be cut.”

Sage did as he was told, barely daring to even breathe. Slowly and with careful precision, Derek cut Sage’s shirt down his back. The slow tearing of the fabric was agony as Sage feared the knife would nick him. He exhaled as he finally heard the knife being sheathed. His relief was short lived, however, as his ruined shirt was ripped from him, leaving his torso exposed to the damp cold basement air.

He knew what was coming next. He had seen the whip coiled in Derek’s hand. Still, he tried to turn his head, to look and see what was happening. Just as he did, he heard a crack and jerked as much as he could in the chains as a line of fire erupted across his back.

Sage yelped in both pain and surprise. “Oh god, fuck! Derek, just wait a–“

Another crack of fire across his back. He gritted his teeth, grunting as he tried to keep in another yelp.

"I told you to shut up.”

Again there was another lash across his back, jerking him forward as he tried to keep quiet. His eyes watered against the pain. He struggled and pulled against his bonds.

“Tell me where you planned to go last night,” said Derek. “You have permission to speak the truth only.”

Sage didn’t answer, trying to breathe through the stinging on his back. The whip had struck him hard. He could feel welts erupting across his back. He had been whipped during sexual play before, but it had never been like this. This was new. Derek was attempting punish him, make him remember this pain. He didn’t want to be hit like this again. But if he admitted to trying to run away, he had no idea what Derek would do next. He felt paralyzed.

There was the sound of a whoosh through the air before the whip came down on his back again, even harder. This time Sage cried out.

“Come on!” Sage shouted in agony and frustration, “I told you I just wanted to get out for a walk!”

It wasn’t a lie, not really. He did just want to get out. Get out to walk away and never come back.

“You were running away.”

“No!”

The whip came down on him again. Two more times, three more times, four more times, too many to count. Each time he cried out, not quite screaming. He continued to struggle, the cuffs rubbing his wrists raw.

It took a few breaths after the barrage of lashes for Sage to realize that Derek had paused. Sage’s back was on fire and he could feel that he was bleeding now, the skin torn open by each lash. He shook, from the pain and stress and fear of what was coming next.

“This is completely pointless,” said Derek. “I already know you were running away. Where were you trying to go? You thought you could start a new life with $150?”

Sage said nothing, realizing how stupid his “plan” sounded when said out loud.

The whip came down on him again.Sage screamed.

“Where were you going, Sage?” He was hit again.

“To the cops? You a fucking narc, Sage?”

“No!”

Again the whip sliced across his back. “You know snitches get skinned alive, Sage.”

Again he was hit. It was too much.

“I just wanted to go home!” Sage shouted before the whip could come down on him again. “Please, please, I’m sorry, ok? I’m so, so sorry, please forgive me. Please don’t hit me again, it hurts! God, it hurts so bad! I just wanted to go home!”

Sage was sobbing in earnest now. Behind him, Derek was silent. Sage shivered, bracing himself for another hit.

It didn’t come.

For a few minutes, the only sound in the room was Sage’s crying. Finally, Derek said, “This is your home.”

Sage let out another sob. “I know,” he said. “I know that Derek, I know, and I’m sorry. But I just, I wanted to see my family, ok? And you, you don’t let me see them. You don’t even let me call them.”

“Your family doesn’t give a fuck about you, Sage.”

“But I haven’t seen them in years! I just wanted to check on them…”

Behind him, Derek was laughing, “Your junky parents don’t give a single fuck about you, not then, not now. They sold you to me, remember?”

Sage swallowed as tightness was building in his chest. His mom had been the one to introduce Sage to Derek three years ago. Derek had been getting drugs for his parents, and also giving them odd jobs here and there. At the time, Sage had liked Derek. He was older and fun and exciting. Back then, it seemed like Derek could offer him an escape from the hell he had grown up in. And Sage hadn’t realized what was really happening, that he was just escaping from one level of hell to another, and he hadn’t realized he was being “sold.”

Derek had told him this multiple times, usually during a fight or punishment, or just when Derek wanted to bring Sage down, remind him that he owed Derek everything. But sometimes, especially recently, Sage was beginning to doubt if it was really true, that his parents had really “sold” him for a pound of heroin, or $1000, or whatever Derek decided it was depending on the day he was telling the story. He wanted to see his family again to find out the truth.

His parents were fucked up, but they weren’t that fucked up, were they?

Another line of fire suddenly erupted across his back, ripping him out of his thoughts.

“Derek, stop! Please!” he begged, resuming his sobbing with the renewed pain.

Derek ignored his pleas. “The question remains then,” he said, “why would you want to go back to your junky trash family? You do realize they’ll beat and whore you out too, right? But you won’t have protection and you’ll be living in squalor.”

Despite the pain and the fear, something about the way Derek said that ignited a rage inside of Sage.

“You don’t protect me,” he said under his breath.

“What was that?”

Sage didn’t answer.

The lash came down on his back again.

Sage screamed.

“What the fuck did you say, Sage?”

Again the lash came down.

“I said you don’t fucking protect me!” Sage screamed. “Alright?! You don’t protect me! You let strangers hurt me, and I hate it, ok? And you don’t even fucking care… No one cares…” He trailed off as his body wracked with sobs. Derek didn’t care about him, his family didn’t care about him, no one cared about him. Only one person in the world had ever truly cared about him, but like the fuck up that he was, he had ruined it, and that person likely and rightfully hated him now. And now he was here, alone and in pain, with no one to save him.

Please forgive me, Carson.

Maybe this was what he deserved.

Sometimes he wished Derek would just kill him.

Behind him, Derek was laughing again. “God, you are such a fucking pussy, Sage. You are a pathetic whimp. You have absolutely zero talent for anything, you can’t even take a little rough fucking. You are absolutely nothing, you can’t even be a good whore. The easiest job in the world and you are still a failure at it. You’re right no one cares about you, why the fuck would they? You are a worthless waste of oxygen.”

The lash came down again on him. He screamed before sagging in his chains. His wrists were slick with blood from the cuffs. He gasped for breath, his back burning. He could feel tears on his cheeks. There was so much pain in his body, but Derek’s words opened up a pit of despair in his gut that felt even worse. He knew that everything Derek was saying was true.

Behind him, Derek stepped forward. A hand was in Sage’s hair, pulling and wrenching his head back. He moaned as pain ignited again across his back, torn skin being pulled at and stretched as he moved. He winced, meeting Derek’s eyes.

“Nonetheless,” said Derek, “you are mine. You belong to me. I decide where you go, what you do, who you see. If I want you to smile, you will smile. If I want you to bleed, you will bleed. I decide who you talk to, who you fuck. I will give you what you need, and I will take from you what I want. You are nothing but my property, and you deserve nothing of your own. Do you understand me?”

Sage whimpered but said nothing. Derek yanked on his hair harder.

“Yes!” Sage cried, fearing more pain. He just wanted this to end. “I’m yours, Derek, I’m yours. I’m so, so sorry I tried to leave. It was wrong, it was stupid. Please, I’m so sorry.”

Derek smirked down at him before letting go of his hair. Sage dropped his head forward, sagging again in his chains, trying again to breathe through the pain radiating down his back, trying not to be overcome with despair.

He heard chains rattling before he realized Derek was unbinding his legs from the floor. The punishment was over, and he felt himself sighing in relief. Derek reached up and unlocked the cuffs on his wrists and Sage collapsed onto the floor with a cry.

For a few moments he lay there, too exhausted and hurting to do anything else. Slowly, he attempted to push himself up, he knew he had to stand, to walk, get himself out of this horrific basement. Maybe Derek would give him something for the pain, put ointment on his back, let him sleep it off.

Before he knew what was happening his arms were being wrenched behind him, cuffed behind his back. The movement ignited agony throughout his body and he collapsed forward with a cry.

“You have lost house privileges,” Derek said.

Sage looked up at him in confusion.

“You will stay down here indefinitely. You will do what I say without question. You will service every person who comes through that door without complaint.”

As best he could with his arms bound and his body in agony, Sage moved himself into a sitting position. “Wait, you can’t just leave me down here…”

Sage cried as Derek backhanded him across the face.

“You will not tell me what I can and can’t do. You are my property, and I can do what I want with my own property.”

Fresh tears welled up in Sage’s eyes. “But…” he said, “Please Derek, please don’t leave me here.”

“You can’t be trusted to have free rein of the house.”

Sage felt his heart begin to race and he was struggling to catch his breath. Panic was taking him. He couldn’t stay down here in the dark basement, in pain, with open wounds untreated, bound as he was, he couldn’t do it.

“Please, please, I’ll do anything, please!”

“Stay down here and prove to me that you really will do anything, and I’ll consider letting you back into the house. But it will take a while to prove it.”

“But I need something for the pain, please Derek, and for my back, it’ll get infected...”

“I will tell you what you need.”

“At least take the cuffs off! Please I won’t fight, I won’t try to escape, I promise. I’ll be good. I’ll be good for you, for anyone, I’ll do whatever you want. I don’t need the cuffs, please!”

Derek made for the door.

“No!” Sage was frantic, “Derek please! I’m yours, I’m yours, I should be with you! Please don’t leave me like this, please!”