Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Untitled ❯ Duo's Past ( Chapter 2 )

I was born...some amount of time ago - it's hard to remember, I think it was 18 years - underground in one of the few hospitals for my kind that were left in the world. My kind are generally called Sex Demons for our lusty nature, though the majority of us vaguely resemble gargoyles with thick grey skin, black hair, scraggly horns, yellow cat-like eyes, talons for feet, and huge bat-like wings. Though I'm told we originated underground where the hospitals are, in caverns of lava and smoke, we migrated to the surface after the Slayer Wars ended. I personally resent this because unlike most of my kind, I was born with a recessive disease that caused me to look...different. Pale peach skin, chestnut brown hair, violet eyes, and two to three feet shorter than the others.

Now, when I'm in an optimistic mood, I don't mind this so much because I know my looks are appealing to males and females alike (females of other species, of course, my kind is all males and reproduce asexually). But I am often confused for a Soul Demon halfling and this leads to all sorts of problems. Well...really just one problem, but it's a huge one and the main factor of my life, honestly. Standard mistaken identity.

My first encounter of this sort happened when I was very young. Only year or two, but with the body a 5-year-old human might have, having reached my first growth spurt. I was with my dad, wearing the black leather half masked that marked me as a diseased Sex Demon, holding his hand while we walked through a carnival in Los Angeles. It had been my first time on the surface and I was very excited to see all the different species of people around me. Humans, Familiars (humanoids with animal parts), Shifters in all their forms, Vampires clinging to the shadows despite the pills they took to withstand sunlight, fairies and nymphs, Soul demons, even a couple centaurs!

But...in my excitement I became separated from my father and because of the crowds, did not find him for the rest of the day. I wandered hopelessly, fidgeting with my braid (I keep my hair long, around my knees usually) and crooning in the hopes he'd hear me. I left the carnival grounds in attempt to get away from the crowds and soon found myself in the slums of the small city we lived in. Being young and not completely aware of why I needed it, I removed the mask and accidentally dropped it in the ditch that ran down the road. It was quickly swept away by the flowing water and gunk and that was when my troubles truly began.

First things first, it needs to be understood that anyone living in the slums is generally interested in four things: money, food, alcohol, and shelter. It always narrows down to the first, which can of course be used to procure the other three. This place was, in general, not a safe place for a child of any species to be wandering, especially not at twilight as I was, but for me...well I was screwed within ten steps of losing my mask. I quite suddenly found myself surrounded by scraggly coyote and fox familiars, all with vicious grins on their faces as they looked at me.

Remember how I said before my biggest problem was that I get mistaken for a half Soul Demon? This situation was a perfect example of why it was a problem. Soul Demon halflings are bought and sold as slaves. Sex slaves. Now keep in mind I was just a toddler, face blotchy and wet from me crying non-stop, but these types of people know how to spot potential profit. Violet eyes were rare, as were halflings running about without their mommies, not to mention ripe for training.

Despite the fact that I was panicked and had some sharpass talons, they had me roped up, in a steel cage, and on the desk of the nearest slave buyer in under an hour. I was crooning loudly, my hair was down and tangled, my clothes were torn, I was covered with dirt and slum grime, my eyes were bloodshot, my face was streaked with mud where dirt and tears met, and my nose was running. The bastards got seven thousand credits for me. I spent the rest of the night in a cage, a cuff digging sharply in to one ankle with no blanket.

Now, I'm sure a couple of you are wondering why I didn't just tell the dealer I was a diseased Sex Demon. The disease was rare, but well known for exactly this reason. But keep in mind I was little more than I baby, so the only language I knew was the one both species of demons used when they were children, an unintelligible series of chrip's, scree's, da's, and bru's. So it was perfectly understandable that the angel slave dealer didn't listen to a word I said the next morning as he cleaned me up and found a pair of slave pants (black leather, steel D-rings for belt loops) my size. My body had grown overnight, as my kind is prone to do, to what amounted in human years to ten or so. It'd been a year since my first growth spurt, so my third wasn't going to come for a few years.

The rest of that day...and many days that followed...were filled with the most humiliating and painful torture I think I ever have and ever will experience. They made me do the most degrading things with any and all parts of my body - including my braid - with other slaves and trainers alike. At night they strapped me to a chair facing a giant screen that flipped through the pages of what I now know is the Kama Sutra. A woman's voice was coming out of the speakers, a dry monotone telling me that my only concern was the pleasure and happiness of my owner. I would do what I was told, when I was told, how I was told, with no argument. If I closed my eyes for more than half a second, or more than once in ten seconds, I got whipped.

This went on for months until I finally just...gave up. I stopped fighting, stopped crying, stopped trying to escape. I plastered on a fake mindless smile and just did as I was told. The trainers seemed pleased and I got disgusted looks from the other slaves but honestly I couldn't bring myself to care anymore. Soon after that I was put out into a cage in the shop, which was much nicer than the training ones. With my looks and eager attitude, I sold quickly.

My first owners, luckily, were an elderly tiger familiar couple that just wanted me as a pet/butler, not as a sex toy. I was still a virgin, though a well educated one, and I wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible. It was as perfect as a life as I could have possibly led as a slave, and I cherished every moment of it. Three years passed with me doing nothing but cooking, cleaning, and having my ears scratched (degrading, but pleasurable none the less).

But...one night, while I slept in front of the fireplace downstairs, my mistress suffered a heart attack. My master panicked and yelled for me to call and ambulance. They arrived ten minutes later to take her to the hospital but she...died on the way. After the funeral (which I was not allowed to attend) my master fell into a deep depression. Two weeks after she died, he followed. The doctors, after I called them in a panicked fit, said he died simply of old age, natural causes. I personally felt he'd died of a broken heart, cliched as that may be.

As the master's final will stated, I was sent to live with his bachelor son in Santa Fe. I was shipped by crate in the back of a train, again missing out on the funeral. I took the time during the trip to mourn the passing of my owners, they'd been like surrogate parents to me. But they'd often spoken of their sweet, well-mannered son so I hoped maybe my new life wouldn't be too different from my old one.

Hopes are brought up to be shot down, I learned. The money my old owners had been sending to their son under the impression he was too busy volunteering at the humane society to work had been put to uses other than food or housing. My master's son was a cunning man if nothing else and had turned the money into a large enough profit to afford himself a huge house without having to work. He did not, however, spend his free time volunteering.

Master owned a young (or....young-looking....I don't know his real age) dragon named Wufei Chang that he told everyone was a servant, but I knew better. The Chinese boy was too pretty for anyone like Master to use for cleaning and cooking and I got to watch the live action of my education daily. I watched the pretty black hair get tangled and the perfect white tail and wings get splattered with blood and cum, sharp black eyes squeeze shut in pain as Wufei struggled to keep quiet. He always did, too. I never heard a sound other than Master's grunts and moans and roars.

Wufei and I grew very close. Because Master was a tiger familiar, he was asleep more often than he was awake, and in that time we had no company aside from one another. Behind the stern, tightass attitude I found Wufei to be very caring, he would always wrap his arms and wings around me at night and tell me stories until I fell asleep. He always...he always put himself in Master's path so that I would go unnoticed, that I would be spared. Wufei understood that I was still a toddler despite my body and so strived to protect me from violation. When Master fell asleep he would always take me - crying like a little girl - to the bathroom and promise me he'd get both of us away from that place while we bathed.

My protection could only last so long, though. One day instead of raping Wufei, Master beat him viciously and crammed him in my cage, which was too big for me, let alone someone bigger. Master was angry with Wufei for protecting me and so made him watch as I had watched so many times. He said I'd been freeloading too long, eating his food and living under his roof and that I owed him for his "generosity." You can figure out what happened then, I'm sure. It...hurt more than anything I could have imagined. There was no lube, no preparation, nothing but blinding pain starting from my rear and spreading all over my body. Under my screams and Master's hissed words I could hear Wufei, roaring and rattling the cage's bars, but it meant nothing to me. It ended abruptly with Master's claws digging into my hips and his weight crashing down on my smaller body. The session would repeat six more times that day before Master finally let Wufei out and went to bed.

I had been fading in and out of consciousness and so was only vaguely aware of Wufei carrying me up to the bathroom and cleaning me gently. However careful he was, I still hurt. Pain consumed me and my childish mind couldn't comprehend why anyone would enjoy or want to participate in such an activity. After that day, beatings and rape became a part of my daily routine. Wufei still tried to protect me but only got hurt and stuffed into the cage. We learned from eavesdropping on a phone conversation that Master was being banned from his casinos and racetracks because he'd been cheating, and without the steady flow of money from his parents his wealth was steadily draining away. It made him angry, but it also meant he was home more often and spent more of his waking hours with me.

It was so much harder than training because...the pain was constant and the violations were always changing. He used me in so many different ways, bending me in positions I couldn't reach until my ribs or arms or legs snapped under the strain. Several times my pelvic bones were crushed under his weight and Wufei had to heal me in spite of the painful magic wards we both wore. Wufei...was always there. Even when he was barely conscious from his beating, he forced himself to stay awake, to watch. When I asked why he said that he would not disrespect me by turning away. I never figured out what he meant by that but I didn't ask again. I knew it was tied in with justice, one of his favorite topics of conversation and something he felt very strongly about.

It went on this way for what Wufei tells me was eight years. When I turned ten (five years after my first owners died) I reached my third growth spurt and my body changed to resemble that of an 18-year-old human. It made the last three years more painful, as Master discovered my older body was more flexible and could tolerate more pain without blacking out.

But one day, one glorious day, my Master learned he had no more money in his savings and was severely in debt. He had to sell all of his possessions. Of course, he went through damn near every object he owned, including his servants, his car, his house, before he sold Wufei and I, but that rush of relief when he handed over our papers was like a ten ton block lifted off my soul. I burst into tears and cried all over Wufei as we were loaded into a crate and put on another train, this time to be auctioned off. I was lucky, Wufei had the good sense to break us out of the crate and get us off the train before we got there. Had I been by myself I would have just cried my happiness the entire trip and been sold to someone else.

At the time I didn't know how to fly, so Wufei had to carry both of us miles and miles into the next state. We hid out in alley ways for days until we found a newpaper reporting that the train we'd been on had crashed and we were listed as "lost goods" among furniture, money, and pets the officials hadn't recovered. So long as we were careful to hide our wings, Wufei told me, we could walk around in public. No wanted posters were put up for us because we were assumed dead, and so no one would recognize our faces.

We spent the next five years more or less as criminals, coming out only at night, swathed in trench coats and sunglasses. Wufei brought in most of our money, whoreing himself on street corners across the country as we moved from state to state. The moving was my fault, if it'd been up to him we'd have stayed in California and never left. But something was drawing me north-east and so that's where we went, on foot and wing, Wufei giving himself up to the highest bidder every night just so I wouldn't have to. It still happened, of course, any time I went out without him nearby, but it never lasted long and for that I didn't complain. I was fed, clothed, and most importantly I was cared for, even if Wufei was a bit gruff and an incredible tightass.

Now we're in a dingy hotel in Brackney, Pennsylvania. Wufei is sleeping on the one bed after a quick shower. I think he had a rough night, he barely even grunted when I welcomed him home and he was limping badly. Tomorrow we'll be crossing the boarder into New York, where my constantly-increasing urgings are leading us. I get the feeling whatever it is I'm looking for is somewhere in that state, and Wufei tells me that when I find it I will realize my destiny. I don't know what that means but after thirteen years in his company, I'm sure he's right, or my name isn't Duo Maxwell (and it is).