harsh beginings draft
just a rough sketch of the plot line of what im working on
"Is he dead?"
"Nobody really knows... he hasn't moved in days"
"Poor guy... I can't imagine what he must have done to end up like this"
"I know what you mean... I've seen rough before... but this. This is something else entirely"
"Shit he's coming. Get outta here"
"GET UP YOU WORTHLESS SACK OF SHIT!" I whimper quietly and curl up in pain as the burly man known only as the punisher kicks me in the stomach with a size 15 steel toe boot. "NEED I GET THE WHIP AGAIN? I SAID GET UP. NOW GET UP SLAVE" I whine as I struggle to my paws, my fur bloody and matted, several open wounds still bleeding from my last encounter with the punisher.
"W-what would you have of me today sir?" I ask quietly, my throat dry and breathing still painful.
"Come with me. The master is quite displeased with you, and has requested your sorry ass be dragged before him. Now don't keep him waiting you twinkle toed cock sucker" I whimper quietly as I limp along, resisting the urge to respond to the punisher's insults, knowing it will only end poorly for me.
What did I do to deserve such hell?
I yelp as I am kicked through a pair of double doors, falling to my knees on the white marble floor, several little red droplets staining the polish as I feel a cold metal rod pressed to the back of my head.
"Well if it isn't the worthless fur ball himself... You really aren't good for much of anything are you? No. You're not. Although you do make a fantastic punching bag. Oh how I would love to flay you here and now. Oh the things I could do to end your pathetic life. I could make it quick and just pull the trigger. But that's not very fun, and then I wouldn't have you here to clean the mess you would make all over my pretty marble floor. I could chain you to a wall and leave you to starve, but I don't want to listen to more of your complaining. I have always wanted to whip someone to death. I could finally find a use for that razor tipped whip you all fear so much. It's been so long since it has caused someone pain..." as the tall muscular man I have come to know as master walks circles around me, talking about various methods of torture, he pauses to step on my tail, making sure to twist his boot before continuing. "But alas, I have plans tonight, and you are not part of them. How I would so dearly love to end you and make a rug out of your hideous fur, I need money. So today is your lucky day bitch. You're going to the market. You have become someone else' problem. So hold your damn head up. I've paid a lot to feed you and keep you alive over the years. It's about damn time you did something to earn your keep"
"I... I'm going to the market?" I slowly raise my head to look up at the master, only to be struck with a club.
"That is what I just said is it not? Perhaps I should beat some sense into you before you go.... No, I don't think I will. You simply are not worth the effort anymore. Get him out of here. Take him out back and hose him down before you get rid of him. They sell better clean." Moments later I wheeze as the air is forced from my lungs by the force of the punisher heaving me to my paws and shoving me towards the door leading outside.
I'm going to the market. I'm finally going to the market. I have escaped this prison at last
"Stand still, and maybe I will try not to get soap in your cuts" I whine as I am suddenly drenched with freezing water, a bucket of soapy water dumped over my head and then a powerful jet of cold water cutting through my fur, suds and blood and mud quickly covering the ground around me as I am hosed off. "Good enough. Let's go. The sooner you get to market the sooner I can come back here to beat the rest of the bitches." I silently pad after the punisher, shivering in the frigid air as I am pushed into the back of a truck, left in the cold for the long drive to town.