‹ Prequel: Blood Family Arc
The Leopard met the Cub.
England. That's where it all began.
You're probably wondering about and mystified by my past. I'm not at all surprised. I've only just recently turned up out of nowhere, and brought danger in the form of a vile, sadistic beast of a man to the forefront of your attention. But I'll get to that after I explain a bit more about myself and the circumstances I thought I'd escaped from.
Let's go right back, to when I was 16, and my brother had just killed our father, after the abuse we'd suffered at his hands after our mother had passed away, and then he'd run. I'm still not one hundred percent sure where he'd hidden out, but it seemed like he was gone. Vanished. Not existent anymore.
I didn't get the brunt of our father's abuse, Will did. He stepped in for me, and I resented him for that. Will, I mean. It weakened him considerably, or at least I thought he was weakened. No, him killing our father and managing to get rid of the body? That was as far from weak as ever I'd seen. What I didn't know was what was going through his mind, and I still don't know completely what the state of his mind is.
So, Will ran, and that left me on my own. After the murder and cover up of our father I returned home. Although... Only it wasn't home anymore, was it? Not without Will. A woman, one of our neighbours, a Ms. Lindsay Partridge, came by to see after the news of both my father's and Will's disappearance. Although I only told her about my father's disappearance, I didn't dare say that I didn't rightly know where Will was. She helped me cope on my own. She stayed with me a lot and after a while asked me where Will actually was. I said the first thing that popped into my head, and that was "England. Helping out in an orphanage."
She believed my story, how could she not? I have a trusting quality in my face, apparently, or so I've been told. So, off I went to England, in the hopes of "finding" my brother. I'll skip the journey and the settling in, I found myself at a little orphanage in the town of Kent. It was a Barnardo's home that I actually stayed in for a while, until I was eighteen.
Once I hit eighteen I hit an all time low. Drink, drugs, you name it, I probably tried it. I found myself in the BDSM club district, a group of abandoned warehouses that I'd stumbled across in a drunken stupor and I'd been slumped against the door, until a shadow fell across my form and I looked up, through bleary vision, and I didn't know then that this shadow would be the end all of end all.
The shadow spoke, because at that point that's all I could decipher what it was. I agreed to what the shadow said, well, at that point I would've agreed to practically anything. I was a mess, drinks and drugs ruling for the most part, and the shadow offered all of that, as long as I stayed with it and was its.
Needless to say, I agreed, and I kept to my promise, for the most part.
I'd been staying with this shadow for quite a while, and he eventually wasn't just a shadow anymore, he turned into Mark Davenport. He weaned me off of drugs, but turned my obsession into something else. Sex. Oh, there was plenty of that. At first it was fantastic, amazing, all of the good words you use when describing something so pure, something that can't even really described by words actually.
It hit a peak, and then it all shattered around me.
He got into the film business, the porn industry, and I mostly stayed out of it, turned a blind eye to it, until I got to my 19th birthday, and he proposed that I join him, making the films at first, then making the films turned into partaking in them.
I was nervous at first, very nervous, I was sure I was in love with the man who would eventually ruin me and I didn't want to disappoint him. I was twitchy and he noticed this, laying his hand on my shoulder and he smiled the sickest-sweet smile I'd ever seen, his eyes darker than I'd ever seen them, and I was trapped. His voice was even more sick-sweet, something I'd never before encountered, and I soon got to realize that this was his "Porn King" tone of voice, what he used on his employees. I was suddenly not his lover, but his little fuck boy, and it was who he really was.
The movie went without a problem, just my own self consciousness at being with another person while Mark looked on over us both, but apparently that was okay. I was a newbie, I'd "get used to it." I would soon "get over the little virgin look" about me. His words stung, more than I'd let on, and once we were home he seduced me. I unraveled before him, unable to resist, really, and we had sex once, twice, thrice. He was insatiable, clearly turned on by my previous performance. It was my face, he'd said, it was too cute and shy looking for my own good. He'd muttered that it would get me hurt, one day, but he'd said it in such a way that I'd thought he was just speaking through the lust. I didn't know he was being serious.
A few weeks passed, and surely, I got into the swing of making porn movies. It was only a couple, "normal" ones, both with men and women, until Mark got into the BDSM circuit. That's when everything around us, our relationship included, dissolved. I was no longer his lover at all, i was his toy. I only belonged to him, even though we were no longer properly together. I was there his entertainment, nobody else's, and I learnt that the hard way.
I'd become friends with other employees over the course of my now own employment, of course I had. I was practically a social fly on the wall. I'd lost my American accent as I tried to fit in with the other men and women in my workplace, and it was replaced by a South-Eastern British accent. I had a best friend then, his name was James. He had the clearest blue eyes I'd ever seen and it reminded me of Will. I'd never forgotten about Will, I wondered about him every single day, and I'd started the early hatchlings of a plan to find him again.
Things were increasingly getting worse between Mark and I, our work relationship was beginning to tarnish, his jealousy and controlling nature driving me further and further away. I had been spending some time with James, on one of our little breaks in between filming a slave/master porno, before Mark had dragged me away, physically by the scruff of my collar that had been required for my part in the film, and he'd tugged me against him, his eyes stone cold, face grave. His voice was venomous as he ran a hand through my hair, tugging sharply and making my head jerk up, a yelp caught in my throat as he hissed, "one more, my lovely Ben, and it'll spell the end, understand?"
I should've realized then, to get out while I still had a chance, but before I could we were soon back to filming, and I was trying not to piss him off. He'd already started the physical abuse in surprise trysts that would happen at any time. We still lived together, of course, he wasn't going to turn me out onto the street, not when he wanted to keep such a tight choke hold on me.
Soon though, films were beginning to be more deadly, and it was the first time I'd tried to run away. He found me almost straight after this attempt, one of his busybodies has spotted me and I had no choice but to return, I knew exactly how awful he could truly be.
For the newer films though, he'd drug me as a rotten way of coercion. He dappled in snuff films, and he wasn't above raping me, either. I almost became another statistic as I was beaten and raped to within an inch of my life, but James saved me, he got in the way, got in between Mark and I. That defining moment, something changed, James reminded me of Will, and I knew I had to find my brother again.
It was very late one night, and after another violent rape, I knew I had to make my way out then. Mark had been sleeping peacefully in my bed, perfect for me to creep away. I rifled through his scattered belongings, grabbing at whatever money I could find. I found my passport, any other papers I needed, and made my escape.
It was successful, but I was scared as I landed back in Baltimore. I always had the fear that he would come looking for me, but I kept that to the back of my mind as I settled into a sweet little motel by the lake and woods. I found Will again, and I thought it would be alright.
Until the Leopard, as Mark is known by many, found the Cub again.
Let's go right back, to when I was 16, and my brother had just killed our father, after the abuse we'd suffered at his hands after our mother had passed away, and then he'd run. I'm still not one hundred percent sure where he'd hidden out, but it seemed like he was gone. Vanished. Not existent anymore.
I didn't get the brunt of our father's abuse, Will did. He stepped in for me, and I resented him for that. Will, I mean. It weakened him considerably, or at least I thought he was weakened. No, him killing our father and managing to get rid of the body? That was as far from weak as ever I'd seen. What I didn't know was what was going through his mind, and I still don't know completely what the state of his mind is.
So, Will ran, and that left me on my own. After the murder and cover up of our father I returned home. Although... Only it wasn't home anymore, was it? Not without Will. A woman, one of our neighbours, a Ms. Lindsay Partridge, came by to see after the news of both my father's and Will's disappearance. Although I only told her about my father's disappearance, I didn't dare say that I didn't rightly know where Will was. She helped me cope on my own. She stayed with me a lot and after a while asked me where Will actually was. I said the first thing that popped into my head, and that was "England. Helping out in an orphanage."
She believed my story, how could she not? I have a trusting quality in my face, apparently, or so I've been told. So, off I went to England, in the hopes of "finding" my brother. I'll skip the journey and the settling in, I found myself at a little orphanage in the town of Kent. It was a Barnardo's home that I actually stayed in for a while, until I was eighteen.
Once I hit eighteen I hit an all time low. Drink, drugs, you name it, I probably tried it. I found myself in the BDSM club district, a group of abandoned warehouses that I'd stumbled across in a drunken stupor and I'd been slumped against the door, until a shadow fell across my form and I looked up, through bleary vision, and I didn't know then that this shadow would be the end all of end all.
The shadow spoke, because at that point that's all I could decipher what it was. I agreed to what the shadow said, well, at that point I would've agreed to practically anything. I was a mess, drinks and drugs ruling for the most part, and the shadow offered all of that, as long as I stayed with it and was its.
Needless to say, I agreed, and I kept to my promise, for the most part.
I'd been staying with this shadow for quite a while, and he eventually wasn't just a shadow anymore, he turned into Mark Davenport. He weaned me off of drugs, but turned my obsession into something else. Sex. Oh, there was plenty of that. At first it was fantastic, amazing, all of the good words you use when describing something so pure, something that can't even really described by words actually.
It hit a peak, and then it all shattered around me.
He got into the film business, the porn industry, and I mostly stayed out of it, turned a blind eye to it, until I got to my 19th birthday, and he proposed that I join him, making the films at first, then making the films turned into partaking in them.
I was nervous at first, very nervous, I was sure I was in love with the man who would eventually ruin me and I didn't want to disappoint him. I was twitchy and he noticed this, laying his hand on my shoulder and he smiled the sickest-sweet smile I'd ever seen, his eyes darker than I'd ever seen them, and I was trapped. His voice was even more sick-sweet, something I'd never before encountered, and I soon got to realize that this was his "Porn King" tone of voice, what he used on his employees. I was suddenly not his lover, but his little fuck boy, and it was who he really was.
The movie went without a problem, just my own self consciousness at being with another person while Mark looked on over us both, but apparently that was okay. I was a newbie, I'd "get used to it." I would soon "get over the little virgin look" about me. His words stung, more than I'd let on, and once we were home he seduced me. I unraveled before him, unable to resist, really, and we had sex once, twice, thrice. He was insatiable, clearly turned on by my previous performance. It was my face, he'd said, it was too cute and shy looking for my own good. He'd muttered that it would get me hurt, one day, but he'd said it in such a way that I'd thought he was just speaking through the lust. I didn't know he was being serious.
A few weeks passed, and surely, I got into the swing of making porn movies. It was only a couple, "normal" ones, both with men and women, until Mark got into the BDSM circuit. That's when everything around us, our relationship included, dissolved. I was no longer his lover at all, i was his toy. I only belonged to him, even though we were no longer properly together. I was there his entertainment, nobody else's, and I learnt that the hard way.
I'd become friends with other employees over the course of my now own employment, of course I had. I was practically a social fly on the wall. I'd lost my American accent as I tried to fit in with the other men and women in my workplace, and it was replaced by a South-Eastern British accent. I had a best friend then, his name was James. He had the clearest blue eyes I'd ever seen and it reminded me of Will. I'd never forgotten about Will, I wondered about him every single day, and I'd started the early hatchlings of a plan to find him again.
Things were increasingly getting worse between Mark and I, our work relationship was beginning to tarnish, his jealousy and controlling nature driving me further and further away. I had been spending some time with James, on one of our little breaks in between filming a slave/master porno, before Mark had dragged me away, physically by the scruff of my collar that had been required for my part in the film, and he'd tugged me against him, his eyes stone cold, face grave. His voice was venomous as he ran a hand through my hair, tugging sharply and making my head jerk up, a yelp caught in my throat as he hissed, "one more, my lovely Ben, and it'll spell the end, understand?"
I should've realized then, to get out while I still had a chance, but before I could we were soon back to filming, and I was trying not to piss him off. He'd already started the physical abuse in surprise trysts that would happen at any time. We still lived together, of course, he wasn't going to turn me out onto the street, not when he wanted to keep such a tight choke hold on me.
Soon though, films were beginning to be more deadly, and it was the first time I'd tried to run away. He found me almost straight after this attempt, one of his busybodies has spotted me and I had no choice but to return, I knew exactly how awful he could truly be.
For the newer films though, he'd drug me as a rotten way of coercion. He dappled in snuff films, and he wasn't above raping me, either. I almost became another statistic as I was beaten and raped to within an inch of my life, but James saved me, he got in the way, got in between Mark and I. That defining moment, something changed, James reminded me of Will, and I knew I had to find my brother again.
It was very late one night, and after another violent rape, I knew I had to make my way out then. Mark had been sleeping peacefully in my bed, perfect for me to creep away. I rifled through his scattered belongings, grabbing at whatever money I could find. I found my passport, any other papers I needed, and made my escape.
It was successful, but I was scared as I landed back in Baltimore. I always had the fear that he would come looking for me, but I kept that to the back of my mind as I settled into a sweet little motel by the lake and woods. I found Will again, and I thought it would be alright.
Until the Leopard, as Mark is known by many, found the Cub again.