I can't believe I'm actually posting this. If not for my dear friend glares(you know who you are), I would never have posted this, the plot is too terrible. That aside though, if anyone does read this, I hope you can get past all the terrible things that happen to Salem and enjoy it anyway.

WARNING: This is going to be a pretty messed up story. It will contain male pregnancy, prostitution, swearing, sex between men, rape, slavery, and any other bad things I come up with along the way. In the world the story takes place in, male pregnancy is possible and slavery is permitted. Just go with it, okay. If you read this and are offended remember, I did warn you.

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"What the hell were you thinking, you little bitch!" he screamed, slapping me across the face hard enough to knock me to the ground. "Did I give you permission to leave the mansion?!"

"But I just wanted to get…"

"Shut the hell up!" he yelled, slapping me again. "Don't you dare talk back to me! If I say you don't leave the fucking mansion, then you don't leave the fucking mansion!"

"I'm sorry master, it won't happen again," I whimpered, cowering on the ground in fear, not daring to meet his gaze. He gave me a long hard glare, probably contemplating on how to punish me, before roughly kicking me in the side.

"Get out!" he hollered and I bolted from the room, getting as far away from him as possible, knowing how he could get when angered. I managed to make it to my room before collapsing onto the floor, holding my aching side. I didn't think he had broken any bones, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt like hell. I could deal with being slapped, I was used to it after all, but I hated being kicked. It always caused more pain and carried the risk of broken bones.

I remained on the floor, trying to regain my composure and will away the pain. It wasn't like this was anything new though. Mr. Ashton, the man who had been my master for a little over a year, had taken to hitting me whenever I did something to piss him off. Even when it wasn't me who had pissed him off, he would still take his anger out on me, either through violence or through other means.

I picked myself up from the floor then, not liking where my thoughts were heading. Not bothering to do anything about my injuries, I headed to the one place that could help me right now, the place where I could find the only person who gave me a reason to live.

As I reached my destination, I heard giggling coming from the other side of the door, the sweet innocent giggling that only a child could make. A small smile graced my lips as I gently opened the door. The sound of shuffling could be heard as an old woman of about 76 turned to me, baby in her arms.

"Salem," she greeted, pity clouding her emerald eyes.

"Mrs. Ashton," I answered back, greeting her with a curt nod as I moved to take the baby she was holding. She tentatively handed the baby to me, giving me a warm smile before stepping back to let me properly greet my child.

"Hi Eben," I cooed, pushing back the baby's platinum blond locks, "Daddy's missed you."

The child reached his tiny hand up, tangling it in my long white hair as he made sweet cooing noises. I kissed my child on the forehead, holding him close to me. My thoughts and feelings from the incident only minuets before instantly vanished, replaced with only love for my child. Despite whatever hardships I faced, I could handle them as long as I had my beautiful baby boy with me. He made up for any amount of pain I might endure.

I continued to hold my child, gently rocking him back and forth. Despite the fact he was already four months old, he was still so tiny, too tiny in fact. He was only about a foot tall and weighed 8 lbs. He had started out a small baby though, weighting only 3 pounds due to the fact he had been about a month premature. His small size could probably also be attributed to the fact his "mother" was a 16 year old boy weighing under 90 lbs at a height of 5' 5''.

I sighed and nuzzled Eben gently. The doctors had claimed Eben would be fine despite his size, I just needed to try and get him to eat more to help him gain weight. If only he hadn't inherited my appetite, or lack thereof, that might have been easier to manage. Planting another kiss on Eben's forehead, I turned to the old woman in the room, thanking her for always taking care of my child while I was away. Margrette Ashton was the woman's name and she was Mr. Ashton's wife, although I knew she wished she had never married the man. She was a kindly old woman, and would have made an idealistic grandmother. She probably would have loved to nurture grandchildren, but since she and Mr. Ashton had never had children together, she nurtured Eben as if he were her own.

She smiled at me kindly, informing me it was always a pleasure to look after Eben. She then turned to leave, saying she was going to help the chefs prepare dinner, but stopped abruptly when the door was pushed open from the other side. The door softly thudded against the wall, revealing a smirking Mr. Ashton.

"Why hello Margrette," he sneered, amethyst eyes twinkling with glee at the disgusted look on his wife's face.

"Hello George," she spat, her obvious dislike for the man evident in the way she said his name.

Unlike his wife, Mr. Ashton was anything but kind, which I knew all too well from personal experience. On the surface, he was the ordinary CEO of some honest company with more money then he could ever use. Under the surface though, he was the ring leader of some organization dealing with the sale of drugs and prostitution. I wasn't entirely sure about all the details, but I knew that they sold people as slaves, both sex and otherwise, and it was because of this organization that I was stuck with Mr. Ashton in the first place.

Mr. Ashton stepped past his wife, looking down on her with a scorn. Where he stood at a height about 6' 3'', Margrette was only about 5 foot, causing her to strain her neck to return the glare. She then left the room, knowing it was never a good idea to stay in the same room as her husband if he hadn't requested it. She briefly glanced at me, trying to give me a reassuring look, before closing the door behind her.

After she was gone, Mr. Ashton stepped towards me, a lustful glint in his eyes. I stepped back instinctively, thinking he was going to punish me for earlier. I hadn't meant to leave the mansion without permission, but I needed to pick up some things for Eben and I figured it would be quicker to run to the store a few blocks down then to ask someone. I should have known Mr. Ashton would over react when he found out I had left. He had forbidden me from leaving the mansion without supervision and that's exactly what I had done. I probably deserved whatever punishment he had prepared for me.

"Now now, Salem," he soothed, "There's no reason to be scared. I'm not mad about earlier and I only reacted the way I did because I was worried about you. Who knows what could have happened to you out there."

"I'm sorry, master," I whispered as he drew close to me, briefly running his hand through my hair.

"As long as you understand and don't do it again, I can forgive you," he answered, pulling me close to him.

"Thank you, master," I replied, letting him pull me closer, but turning slightly so Eben wouldn't be crushed between us.

"How's our baby?" he whispered into my ear, trailing his hand up and down my thigh suggestively.

I fought the urge to shudder in disgust. Oh, how I hated this man, hated his fake kindness and compassion. The only good thing he had done for me was giving me Eben, although the means that brought around my son were far from pleasant.

"Our son is fine." I answered, trying to ignore where his hand was stroking.

"That's good," he whispered, trailing his tongue along my ear while fingering me through my pants.

I let out a gasp, trying not to get aroused, but failing miserably. Despite the fact that I hated this man, hated what he did to me, my body had adapted to this new lifestyle. After all, it was easier to deal with being raped if my body found it pleasurable rather than not reacting. At least that's what I told myself. I didn't want to believe that I actually enjoyed sex with him.

"Not in front of the baby!" I moaned, tightening my hold on Eben while trying to move away from the man that was currently molesting me.

"It's not like he's old enough to understand what's going on," he replied, grabbing my hips and pulling me back towards him, turning me to face him in the process.

I flinched as he started to grind against me, no longer able to hide my aroused state. This fact just made him laugh cruelly in my ear.

"See little whore," he sneered, "You want me to fuck you. Now put our son back in his crib so I can take you right here."

I whined in protest, still trying to pull away from him. "Not in front of our son!" I cried. Even if he was too young to understand what we were doing, I didn't want him to see. It would be wrong to do something like that in front of a child. I continued to try to pull away from him, whining in protest until he eventually grabbed my chin and angrily turned me towards him.

"Alright," he growled, "Put him in his crib and we'll take this back to my room."

I quickly moved away from him, putting Eben back in his crib and headed for the door before he could change his mind.

Mr. Ashton didn't even spare the room a second glance as he all but drug me from the room. As we reached his room, he hastily threw open the door and grabbed me around the middle, roughly throwing me onto the bed.

"Undress!" he commanded and I complied while he did the same. "Now get on your hands and knees!" Again I complied, afraid to disobey him in fear of pissing him off even more. He obviously wasn't very happy about having his fun ruined in the nursery.

I felt him grab me around the ankles, pulling me to the edge of the bed so he was standing directly behind me. I tried to brace myself for what I knew would happen next, disgusted at myself for the way my body shivered in anticipation. I screamed as he slammed into me, trying desperately to get my body to adjust to the pain. I let him do what he wanted, never protesting to what he demanding of me. I was his bitch and my body had long ago become his to do with as he pleased.

As he sped up and I felt myself getting into it, I forced myself to block out what was happening. Block out his grunts of pleasure and my pathetic begging. I truly was pathetic, begging him to fuck me harder, moaning like the cheap whore I was. I even screamed his name when I came, not master, but George, the name he had commanded I call him whenever he would fuck me into the mattress. He continued to move behind me as I felt darkness lapping at the edges of my vision. When I felt him reach his orgasm behind me, I collapsed onto the bed, letting the darkness finally take a hold on me. The last thing I was aware of before falling into oblivion was being picked up and placed under the sheets, followed by a warm body lying down next to mine.