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  1. WARNING!!! This story has some incredibly dark content and themes. So much so I felt that the responsible thing was to warn you ahead of time, decide for yourself if this Abdl work of fiction is for you. If you have similar past trauma this book might not be for you. You have been warned. I hate to spoil this for you, but I want to share with you the gist of the plot so you can decide if you want to read it or not. The story starts off with the main character running for their life. They just escaped, and the situation is godawful. In short, he escaped a sex trafficking victim, I would go so far as to say he just survived being a sex slave by some horrible people. The amount of damage done is so extensive that it’s going to take years to recover from the physical abuse alone, much longer for other things. The character escapes and by a chance of fate, he meets a woman who saves him. The book will center on recovering from the trauma, regression will happen quickly enough, and he chooses to live a much simpler and smaller life while his soul heals from the abuse. I don’t want to give everything away, but it’s bad, worse, and then downright wrong and evil. But it will have a happy ending. Other than healing from his injuries, there is a plot that will build up later. When Bigs go to war with a human trafficking ring that is constantly on the hunt for littles, things might get interesting and intense. This world is the same one I have already written( not yet published anywhere), it’s just an alternative reality and darker story for the main character. I’ll try to add the relevant information into the story naturally so everyone who reads this won’t be lost. This is not the DD, it’s an alternative earth. It’s the earth we all know, just one minor difference that happened in the past about 100 years ago. It’s the gene, the thing that makes littles or Bigs. The history of this earth will be remarkably like the one you know. But the Gene does not come into this story as much as my other one so it should be ok if you are new to my world. There will be NO outright descriptions of the sexual abuse, but the MC is traumatized from it, there will be things related to it though. Mostly the mc trying to recover from what had happened. All character are over the age of 18 Come back to this and do this warning right and tagged for the things that matter. But nothing in this posting is descriptive as it’s just the first chapter. Intro Forget fear!!! This is Terror, traumatized little kid kind of fear that claws at your chest and squeezes your heart until it feels like it might explode. It's the kind of fear that makes you scream for your mommy and daddy after watching that horror movie that you are way too little for. You know how it goes. You try to be big and brave; you try to pretend that the monster hunting the kid on screen is no big deal because you know it’s not real…right? You try to be brave, and you insist that you were not that scared. But no one is fooled when they see you clutching your teddy bear and shaking under that blanket that dad said you were too old to carry around. Your heart is racing, and you struggle to catch your breath. You’re frozen in panic, and you are not fooling anyone kid. Maybe your parents or older siblings laughed as they checked your closet and under your bed for monsters that you keep on insisting you know are not real before tucking you in with a reassuring hug and kiss. But once they leave, the paranoia sets in. The nightlight provides little comfort as it casts eerie shadows around your room, making every corner of your room seem sinister. The gentle sway of tree branches outside your window becomes a haunting dance in the moonlight, projecting twisted arm-like shapes on your wall reaching for you. And every creak and groan of the house sounds like a monster creeping closer. Take my advice and let go of that big girl or big boy pride and call your mommy and daddy, just don’t go to sleep. Nothing good is going to follow because there are things that exist beyond terror, a higher dimension of fear that few will ever experience. Nightmare: Well, it was going to happen, you made a lot of poor choices tonight. The worst part? Nightmares are real in their own twisted way. At least until you wake up and have proof to the contrary. But those monsters almost had you, as you wake up in a cold sweat. But you’re safe now, you’re awake and it’s not real. Warm and moist air breathed down onto your face and neck, and time stops as your face to face with the nightmare that is not supposed to be real. It’s staring at you and even mommy and daddy can’t save you now. When monsters become reality, you pray for an angel to save you as there’s no waking up from the horrors that await. As you feel something hot and sharp piercing through your skin, you realize that sometimes, monsters do come for us in our sleep and there's nothing we can do but scream because it's too late. ************************************************************************ I Got You SanguineReader Chapter 1: Terror or Get to the Light “Move!” “Dam it, Move!” Keep moving, at least make the bastards work for it… “Forget fear, Let the pain Motivate you, move it or you’re going to die, move!” The night clung to the city like a shroud, smothering every alley and street corner with its impenetrable blackness. My breath came in ragged gasps, a desperate rhythm syncing with the pounding of my heart as I fled, turning into another alleyway of the city. Each footfall was a muffled thud against the cold and wet concrete, the only sound on these streets as I quietly skulked on. I darted past shadowy buildings, their looming forms indifferent witnesses to my plight. The darkness seemed to reach for me with long, cold fingers, urging me back to the horrors I'd just escaped. But the monster, that relentless pursuer, propelled me forward. Adrenaline surged through my veins, a bitter cocktail of terror and resolve that kept my legs moving when they begged to collapse. The city was unfamiliar, a twisted maze of back streets that felt alive. Every turn was a gamble, each choice a potential trap. My eyes flickered from one darkened alley to the next, searching for a sign, any indication of a safe path. But the city offered no refuge—only more shadows, only more of the unknown. My body was a map of pain, bruises painting my skin in shades of purple, blues, and blacks—a canvas of abuse that stretched across my flesh. The pain was layered, on both the surface and deep within. Each movement sent fresh waves of agony coursing through me, a cruel reminder of what I had endured. Yet it was that very pain that fueled my determination, a grim assurance that I was still alive, still capable of fighting for my life and freedom. As I stumbled onward, the chilling embrace of the night air seared my lungs, but I welcomed the burn. It kept me anchored to the present, to the reality of my situation, away from the memories that clawed at the edges of my mind, threatening to drag me back into the abyss of despair. “Don’t think just move” thinking to myself again. How long has it been since I decided to run? A rare opening presented itself earlier and I got away. Had it been an hour or less? Keeping track of time was beyond me. Yes, maybe it had been that long. But I had managed to escape, I got away from my captors and I was safe. “Yeah right,” I was anything but safe. Still, they were not hurting me, degrading me. I… I no longer had to act or fake it, if I could just get away, far away and past their clutches. Crap, I started thinking. Then the reality of my situation hit me, I had nowhere to go, no plan, no one I could trust, no one I could call for help. Tears came then, washed away by the cold rain and I felt warm despite the weather from what I hoped was not the start of a fever. My mind grew numb at the thought of my prospects and my thinking had grown erratic and uncoordinated. I noticed a dumpster ahead with its plastic lid bent backwards and open. The lid made a sharp angle with the ground, maybe a good place to hide and rest I thought. Thinking was slow and I wanted to stop. With difficulty my mind urged me to keep going, but I was so tired and in so much pain and the thought of a brief respite tempted me. I limped and staggered my way to the back of the dumpster walking teetering on the heels of my bare feet. I managed to leverage a long green plastic sheet and several broken wooden pallets to the side gap of the lid of the dumpster. It was still dark, and I had yet to be found and I hoped that the garbage would obscure me from any pursuers. “Maybe it was a good place to hide” I hoped ignoring the urgency my mind sent down in waves through the circuits and nerves of my body giving in to the temptation to rest. Taking shelter from the rain under the lid of the dumpster, I winced as I carefully slid down the side of the cold metal. Collapsed was more like it as my leg had given out again. I hurt, everywhere. There was something wrong with my hip. I could feel my bones grinding against each other as I had run into the night. And the pain in my hands and feet had returned and grown sharper by the minute as the adrenaline had worn off. My chest hurt but at least I could still breathe, and I was alive. I reached tenderly for my neck, giving it a gentle caress, trying to ignore what was there as I winced from the pain again. It was cold, so cold and wet. Running into the night naked on the back streets of God knows where. It was impossible but at least I was finally free for however long it’s going to last. Lost in my certainty that it was only a matter of time before they got me, my situation was grim, and I did not know what to do. The attempt to wrap my arms around myself, trying to bring my knees to my chest for some warmth ended in more pain. “Why try, why bother? This can only end one way.” Dropping my arms back down my useless hands felt something soft and to my surprise, dry. I turned my head and looked and found some cloth like thing. It was too dark to fully make it out, but I reached for it anyway. Forcing my hand to grab, my hand strength was near nonexistent as I forced myself to ignore the pain. Something dark scurried from the object and up my arm and disappeared into the darkness. The suddenness of the motion, the blur of the thing, and the feeling of tiny legs on my skin sent a shiver down my spine and a jolt of adrenaline into my heart. I was panting from the unexpected motion and nearly made it to my feet before my leg gave out again. Sitting again, I forced myself to be quiet, but I was in pain again. What else was new. “Deep breaths,” I tried to reassure myself. “It was probably a cockroach, and there are worse things than that out here.” I reached out for the cloth again and managed to drape it over my torso. And using what might as well be nubs, I used the palms of my hands to feel and explore the unknown thing. I felt a string somewhere in the dry mass, and a large pocket, I moved my hands deeper and felt long sleeves and in inner pocket. It was a hoodie. A small smile tugged at my lips, but it had been so long since I last smiled that I couldn't remember when it was. For several agonizing minutes I forced my arms into the sleeves, my fingers were useless as I tried to get the garment on. The sleeves fell well past the length of my arms. I dipped my head down into the bottom of the hoodie and wiggled my way up into it and the body of the hoody fell around me like a dress, but it covered me. Lastly, I used my wrists to squeeze the cloth and tried my best to bring the hood up and over my head. Panting from the effort, no choice but to do my best and ignore the pain. “Finally. Clothes,” I thought. And then I cried ignoring the smell of what I was wearing, overcome with emotion at the dumpster miracle I had found. Sitting against the horrible stench of the dumpster, one last good thing and I was thankful for the unexpected symbol of dignity. I was probably not going to make it, but at least I would be covered I thought bitterly thinking on the last several months of horror I somehow survived as tears tried to fall but wouldn’t. I was too tired for tears and too dehydrated. The thought struck me, “I am going to die tonight,” and I began to shiver, and then I began to sob. Something scurried down my leg and my sobs increased, and my thoughts became hysterical. I am going to die and be thrown away like garbage, alone in the dark. “I might as well be…I am trash,” I whispered to no on in particular. This is where it’s going to end. Falling victim to depression is one thing but falling victim to the truth is another. All my strength was gone, it’s been more than a week since I was last fed, and I have nowhere to go. “Fed,” I laughed. “Yeah, you had it so good” I mocked my own thoughts as I momentarily lost my sanity as I shivered in the cold when a mild wind blew. Alone in my despair, “no one is going to miss me when I go.” “Woosh.” I snapped my head to the left, adrenaline shooting again inside. “What was that?” Cowering in place, “did they find me?” I stared into the darkness and rain, looking but not seeing, for a long… “Woosh,” a sound and bright light moving in the darkness maybe less than a hundred feet away. My heart was beating loudly in my ears as the thing disturbed the falling cadence of the rain and the still of the alley. “Woosh,” another thing moved in the night. It took me a long minute to realize it was a car. “I must be near the street,” I thought as I pieced together what the sound and light was and Several minutes passed before my breathing evened out. “The street,” I thought. Cars, people, and help? But I could not move the fear gripped me, I could not think as I froze in terror. “What if they hurt me too?” Incredible and familiar pain seized my neck, and my body twitched and spasmed uncontrollably. A long and familiar 5 second blast of pure agonizing pain burned its way into my neck. My gums squeezing violently against my tongue. The smell of my flesh burning again as I fell over into a ball withering and screaming. The sound seemed so loud bouncing off the lid and metal of the dumpster, sound waves bouncing back and forth. “Found you kitten, I would know those sweet screams of yours anywhere.” His chuckling taunt echoed somewhere down the alleyway I had been walking down a few minutes ago. My hand reached for the sturdy pink collar locked around my neck. But I could not even grab the metal prongs that were always there. I had no means of turning the prongs away to keep him from shocking me again. I tried to force as much of the sleeve of the hoody as I could into place between my overly burnt and cracked skin and the sadistic metal of the shock box and prong. Hoping against hope that it was enough to keep the prongs from arcing, preventing another painful blast into my broken body. My heart was a galloping horse, a runaway train. Adrenaline pumped again into my weary body, sending signals to my brain to run. But I was seized by the fear of this man. My blood had turned to ice and time slowed as I shook and trembled violently as I laid there on the cold pavement. “This is it,” I thought, my last coherent thought as the terror overtook me sending signals of panic to every muscle in my body. I don’t have the vocabulary for this, what is beyond terror? And suddenly I knew I was about to die. The Pain temporarily vanished like the sweetest dream you have ever had. Maybe an evolutionary trait, that fight or flight reflex that forces you to somehow endure, the body unwilling to give in to fate. My heart would not stop pounding and I was still frozen in fear. “Woosh.” A small light shone where I was hiding. And I had not just been found out, I had been located. I breathed, my body coiled, my body moved on its own without any input from me. Abandoning my temporary save house falling on my face in the attempt, my desperation and panic driving me forward. This must be how a cockroach feels when you turn on the kitchen light in the middle of the night. You are surrounded in the protection of blissful darkness, and you can move around unseen. But then someone flips a switch, and all your little body knows is panic. Your every instinct scream at you to run and to hide. It does not help that whatever it is that disturbed the peacefulness of the darkness can step on you, smack you with something, or some other insane cruelty. Then smoosh. A roach wouldn’t even know. It would happen so fast. Roaches may be the most hated little critter that ever was, their mere existence a crime. It’s kind of unfair really. Roaches are quite defenseless, almost completely blind, and helpless. Kinda of like me. Not feeling it, but my leg gave out again but like that cockroach, fuck it ill crawl if I have to. I scurried on my forearms and knees, pushing as hard as I could behind me propelling myself forward. scrambling up and out somehow forcing myself to stand and my leg held this time, and I ran. Not the slow and careful manner I had been doing before, on my heels, But on my broken toes as fast as I could. “Woosh.” The sound and lights of the cars were just ahead. The answer, my choice, my last choice before he got me again. I did not waste time thinking, it was the best chance I had. To make it end suddenly and finally. “The light, the light, get to the light,” that mantra blasted into every part of my brain as I moved. Something crashed into me as I dove forward past the sidewalk, landing on the curb. My torso was in the gutter, but I had managed to get an arm up in time to brace and protect my face as I crashed into the street. To my regret I took a moment to catch my breath and looked behind me as a raised boot lifted high and it began to fall like a hammer over an anvil in the air. And then time stopped. The rain drops froze in place and all was quiet. They say your life flashes before your eyes at the end. And my life began to play. Memories came to me like a reel of film projected before my eyes in the air amongst the frozen rain drops. Twenty years of experience compressed into a single point and my life replayed itself in that frozen moment of time. The slide show was too short, I only had a few happy years on this earth. The oldest memories played but they were too vague, degraded by time. My early years passed by quickly as details became more vivid, the scope of the slide show grew as I watched my self-grow up, my understanding of the world keeping up with the pace of the growing details. The reel slowed to one of the last good memories I had. Before it all changed when I was six. The days that followed were the worst, and in some ways worse than the horrors that were chasing me. My mommy was there, my daddy too and even my little sister. “Kristen, Kids, I’m home.” He was so tall and so big I thought as I ran to him, “Daddy your home. I missed you.” “I missed you to little guy.” Where you a good boy while I was gone?” “Yep, I was very good.” “And where you a good big brother, where you nice to summer? “I was really nice, I’m not a bad guy daddy.” Chuckling “Good boy, always look after your little sister, your mom too,” he said as he raised me up to give me a hug and a kiss. My sister was there and my mom right behind her. He bent down with me still in his arms and picked summer up. “Daddy,” she squealed “your back.” Kissing her gently on her forehead, “Yep, I’m home and good news I can stay for a few weeks before I have to hit the road again.” Summer cheered as she dug deeper into our dads’ arms. “Missed you Ethan,” my mother said, as she came in completing the group hug, giving a peck to his cheek. I rotated in my dads’ embrace and gestured with my arms to my mother and dad passed me over to her as he readjusted his balance with summer on his hip. I had always looked up to my dad, he was larger than life and my hero and I wanted to be just like him when I grew up. But mommy was my person, and she was special, we had always been close. “Was Josh really nice to summer while I was gone?” “Hey,” I said from my favorite perch, “I’m getting good at being a big brother.” My mom tossed my hair, gave me a kiss as she eased my head to her shoulder, and said, “Yeah, he did a great job, took that chat of yours to heart. Even stop one of the neighbors’ kids from teasing her and he’s been trying to teach her how to ride her bike.” “That’s my boy, you’re going to be a fine man someday, I’m so proud of you” My dad said as he reached out to pat my head as he walked to the kitchen for dinner, my mom carrying me in toe as I beamed at his praise. The memory was one of the happiest I had, from when they were all still alive. My dad coming home, being acknowledged by him. A big family hug in the entryway. It had been so long since we had all gathered at the table as a family. I could almost make out their faces as we sat around the table eating some delicious meal that mom had made. My sister being her silly and annoying self, she really did make it hard to be nice to her sometimes, but I loved her. Dad enthusiastically ate what he called real food, as he talked grown up stuff with mom. And mom thankful for the help dad provided when he was home, now there would be only one set of arms reaching for her, Summer was ever bit a daddy’s girl as I was a momma’s boy. I enjoyed watching the smiles, hearing the laughter. Need some work. The night ended early for my exhausted dad falling asleep on the couch with Summer in his arms. For me, in my parent’s bed in my mommy’s lap as she picked up where she had left off in our nightly reading. She helped me with the bigger words, encouraging me to sound them out, until I had grown sleepy, she took over and we would cuddle close till I began to nod off. A kiss to the head, a flicker of the lamp, then my mommy’s voice sang me the rest of the way to sleep. I had seen enough, and I hoped that if there was a god, I would see them soon. Not wanting to watch the rest I cut the reel of film somehow and the memories dimmed and vanished. “Woosh.” The raindrops began to fall again as the boot came crashing down on my outstretched leg. My leg the lever, the curb the fulcrum, and the impact my femur and something cracked and broke inside me. I was sure I had felt it all before, every kind of pain there is, but my understanding of pain reoriented itself around the soul piercing scream that came out of my mouth and the fire in my upper leg as I heaved in the gutter. His boot came up under my other leg and he flipped me over onto my back, while I continued to scream and spasm in the rain. And he looked at me, with those dead and drunk eyes. “Thought you could get away huh bitch?” He pulled something out of his pocket and pointed it at me. My world was an explosion of pain, but I knew what it was, the remote to the collar. Sizzling and crackling fired at the side of my neck, and I winced bracing for more pain, and to my shock nothing happened. I did not have long to think about the sleeve that I had forced into place with my broken fingers, despite the rain there must have been enough dry material in between the prongs and my skin. He looked confused and annoyed, then angry. And he moved to kick at me again, but lost his footing, either drunk or high, he slipped on the wet curb screaming with a curse. “Woosh.” Another car sped past behind me, it was so close, and I remembered my mission, “get to the light, and make it end.” Forcing myself to sit up, I could not turn away from him. My left leg dangled in front of me useless and I ignored the pain in my hands and pushing with my one good leg as I scooched tripoding my way to the finish line, salvation was just feet away. “Woosh.” He picked himself up off the street as I made my slow backward advance into the street. Scooching backward, I kept my eyes on him, hoping that I could make the last few feet before he got me. He righted himself and looked back down at me, and advanced. A shriek of tires, a blinding flare of headlights, reality twisting violently. I closed my eyes turning my head towards the light, hoping and afraid that they would never open again, like a cockroach, just let it end without me knowing. Screech Bang!!! The impact was sudden, metal against bone. The pavement rose up to meet me, and I sprawled across it, my mind severed from my body, like a puppet severed from its strings. . . . Despite the falling rain the world somehow seemed still as I laid there. The pain was gone at least but I could not move, and my only thoughts were wisps of consciousness and my last view of the world and sky were marred by my long and wet hair plastered to my face as the cold rain continued to fall slowly. My vision reduced, and the view was circling in as light seemed to radiate from everywhere. “So, it ends, it’s over. It’s finally over.” . . . Or so I thought as I laid there. . . . A face appeared, breaking through the veil of light and into the circle of my dying world. The face was beautiful, enchanting, and worried. Long brown hair touched my face. Fingers gently brushed away my wet hair from my view. Concerned and pleading eyes gazed down into mine that touched the dying sparks in my soul. So, Gods a woman. Go figure. I wanted to laugh but the muscles in my face could not move. God said something, her lips moved, and I could not hear it. But then she looked away and up, into the darkness that I had come from. I could not see much, the light was blinding, but I was looking at her chin as she rose like a giant above me. Sound returned as a figure darted into the edge of my periphery. So, he’s going to get me after all. Puddles exploded around me as feet fell and I waited for a boot to the face, but it never came. And helplessly I watched, figures and shadows dancing in and out of my circle of vision. Arms lashed out, shouting, and bestial cries followed as I lay helpless. A body was flung through the circle of my worldview and crashed behind me. . . She came back to me as my world of light began to fade to black. She hovered over me looking away into the night like a sentinel. I don’t know for how long but when red and blue began to collide into my dimming world she looked back down at me; her hair again caressing my face and I wanted to reach for those brown strands. “It’s ok, I’m here, your safe.” “I got you.” Chapter 2 The Angel King may want to keep the Angel king for the main story Notes1:I do want a recount of Maryes pov of the fight with Dylan. Maybe she is reliving it in her mind as she’s in the waiting room of the hospital. There are some important things for this. It alludes to Beth. But most importantly I want a moment for Dylan (1-2 paragraphs of his point of view only, this will be one of the few times)as he retreats back into the night after the fight with Mary. He was drunk or whatever and not at his best. Though it would have been a close fight. One thing that must happen. Dylan needs to get a photo of Mary license plate. Mary’s point of view has that short phone call with Robert, the sauce between the dialogue should help establish things when Robert and sunny return later. I don’t want to much of marys pov, I want to try to center this on josh, but there are a few places where it might be better to watch josh react to things instead of experiencing them from a writing standpoint.
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