For some reason I have always enjoyed stories that involve Troy being pushed around, extreme angst to the main character if you really want to know.
But for reason I found the that many stories had his father "Jack" as the main abuser and it didn't sit right with me. I always liked his character and thought that he generally cared for his son. So I set out to create a story that focuses on Troy being abused and then the Bolton's helping him to get better. The first few chapters of this story will deal with Troy's life before he comes to live with the Bolton's then it will mainly focus on Troy getting better.

I don't own any of this, just borrowing the charaters for a while.

14 year old Troy's alarm clock went off at 5 o'clock in the morning, he groaned and got out of the nest of blankets he was sleeping under. The basement he was sleeping in was never heated, not that Albuquerque was ever that cold at night but if you were sleeping on a mattress in the basement with only blankets to keep you warm it tended to get chilly.

Troy did not mind after all you had to have had comfort and heat to be bothered by your situation and as far as Troy knew this was how it was supposed to be.

He got up and carefully folded his blankets and straightened his sheets then put on his exercise clothes and went outside.

He first went through stretches to warm himself up and then it was an hour of brutal individual exercise on the private basketball court at the back of the house. He exercised knowing that he was not good enough and if he practiced just a bit more he could at least be on the level of the bottom players of the team and be worthy of a place on the team and not be a bigger embarrassment to his father.

After an hour he went inside to his bathroom downstairs and took a freezing shower. Nowhere in the house except his father's bathroom which he was not allowed to enter was there hot water. His father had seen to that by paying a plumber years ago to cut the hot water to everywhere in the house.

Troy had never known what a hot shower was until he went to junior high school and took a shower after his first gym class and realized what he was missing. His classmates who had already thought him to be slightly weird found the fact he stayed in the shower for over 15 minutes a little strange and a teacher had to be called in to get him out. To his horror his father had been notified of his weird behaviour and he had paid dearly for the 15 minute pleasure and never tired it again. Even now at school his showers were the shortest he could manage usually taken cold so he wouldn't fall to the temptation. He didn't deserve a hot shower anyways.

After his shower he found the clothes his father had left out for him to wear, put them on and packed his school and gym bags. He left his bags by the door and went into the kitchen to make breakfast and a sandwich for his lunch, packed it in his bag along an apple and a bottle of juice.

He made French toast this morning, coffee for his father and a glass of milk for himself. By the time he was done his father had come down and was sitting down with his newspaper. Troy knew that his father woke up around the same time he got up and turned off the alarm but never interacted with him. Troy placed his father's breakfast before him and sat down to eat his.

When he was done he started to clean up. He rinsed the dishes and cups and put them in the dishwasher, after he wiped the counters down he went around the island in the kitchen to stand on the side that was facing his father and turned around.

He unbuckled his belt and lowered his jeans to his ankles, at least for the last few years his father allowed him to keep his underwear up unless he was really upset with him. He spread his feet as far as they would open with his pants being in the way and placed his hands on the island to brace himself and waited.

After about five minutes his father folded his newspaper and got up. He got the strap from where he kept it in the top drawer and moved behind Troy. He reached out and pulled Troy's underwear down. Troy tried not to flinch as he knew that today was not going to be a good day.

His father was upset about something he had done and he was going to get extra discipline this morning. On a normal day his father just gave him five hits and sent him on his way, if he was in a good mood Troy got away with three, he even knew days where his father just gave him two.

As far as he could remember his mornings started the same way. Grid discipline is what his father called it, what he needed, otherwise who knew what he would get up to.

When he first started school it was a spanking, his father would push his chair back to signal he was ready and he would have to lower his pants and underwear and lie down over his father lap and receive what was his due. However as he grew up his father had to get more force full as he became more trouble. He never questioned it because he never knew anything different.

The first five hits were hard and fast right on his buttocks and then his father moved down, he got two on his right side sitting spot and then two on his left side. His father moved further down to hit him on top of his thighs again two on each side, he got one more right in the middle of his sitting spot and one more on his buttocks and his father was done.

Troy absent mindlessly noted that he had gotten fifteen hits that morning and he didn't even know what he could have possiblly done wrong. He no longer wondered or asked his father, he just accepted the fact that this was the way life was.

"You may go now" was the first thing and the last thing his father told him every morning since he had started grade school.

"Thank you for caring sir" was Troy's automatic response as he moved to pull up his boxers and jeans. He moved to the door and got his bags and went to wait for the school bus.

He got on the bus and moved to sit at his usual place in the middle of the bus. He never flinched when his buttocks touched the seat after all he was used to pain. He was in constant pain and always uncomfortable during school but he was used to it. His buttocks were always a purple colour but his father was smart, he only hit Troy in places that people were not likely to see. None of the other boys thought it weird that he would put on his boxers under his towel after his shower as many did the same anyway.

After school Troy got of the school bus and moved towards his house. He unlocked the door and went in, the alarm went off, and he waited until his father came to disable the alarm and to reset it. Every door and window in the house was connected to the alarm and Troy was never privileged to know the nine digit combination his father changed every few months.

He was now a prisoner in his own house but a fish that lived in a fish tank for all its life never knew that it was in a tank.

His father moved towards his office and Troy followed, he left his school bag in the kitchen and went in the office and stood in the middle staring off into space. It took his father about ten minutes to start, he built up from telling Troy how he had killed his mother and how she had died for a no good, useless bit of space who no matter how much he worked at it would not add up to anything.

"I mean I try, every day I try to make you at least be on the same level as the lowest scum who walk this earth, but do you have the ability to get there? No, you are good for nothing; you will be nothing whatever I do, whatever I try. Just look at you; stupid beyond words, not able to do anything, you have to work harder than any other student in school and still you amount to nothing."

So it went, usually his father ranted on for about half an hour and then let him go, what could he do, Troy tired his hardest every day, he got straight A's in school, his homework was impeccable and he was in the basketball team however he knew that he was not good enough.

He was an embarrassment to his father, but he tried, he tried his best but his best was never enough, he would never be on the same level of the other students in school. All he could do was work, work and work and not fall behind so no one would notice that he was stupid and slow.

Today as he knew his father was in a vindictive mood as he went on for an hour before getting the rubber ruler he had. Troy knew that they had come to the end, his father asked him to hold out his hands and received his usual 2 hits to each of his palms and was told to go his way.

He went to the basement and carefully took of his school clothes neatly folded them up and put on his house clothes which were an old pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt, no matter what the weather was this is what he wore. He went bare foot as he was never permitted to wear socks or shoes in the house.

He grabbed his clothes and went upstairs. He left his clothes for his father to pick up and put away upstairs in his room. His father and he lived in a big house that had four bedrooms all with a joining bathrooms upstairs. Downstairs there were three other bathrooms two for guests and one designed for the use of the staff that would work in the house, this was Troy's bathroom as all his toiletries were there and it was the one he used. Also on the main floor was a huge living room, dining room, his father's office, a family room and a huge kitchen with a seating area. The whole house was white marble with a few carpets around.

Troy himself had a bedroom upstairs that had a king size bed, a wide screen TV, an apple laptop that sat on his desk. The only problem was that he was never allowed into the room unless he was to clean it and on Saturdays to be kept out of the way.

Cleaning of the house was Troy's responsibility, the least he could do (according to his father) to pay for his keep around the place and pay for the expenses he ranked up.

Troy went to the supply room that was actually designed to be a bedroom should you have live in help and got out the bucket and cleaning supplies. He filled the bucket with water and added the right amount of cleaning detergent in it and grabbed the vacuum cleaner. He then carefully navigated his way to the living room. He had to keep to a schedule his father had made up about what was to be done around the house each day.

This had become routine for Troy as he did everything on auto pilot and usually planned out his homework assignments while he worked. He also could recite some of his favourite books as he worked but he kept that to himself as his classmates thought him to be a mental case when they found out that he could recite some of the books they were to read in class by heart.

First he carefully dusted all around the room, then vacuumed under and between the cushions, after vacuuming and rolling the carpets out of the way he got down to cleaning the floor. His father was against mopping of the floors claiming that when you mopped them they never got clean enough so Troy got down on his hands and knees and scrubbed the floor, then he wiped it with a rag and dried what was still damp with a towel.

After two hours he was done with the living room and the hallway. After disposing the cleaning equipment in the supply room he went to the kitchen and prepared dinner for his father and himself. When he was done he looked over at the clock and realized that he had 56 minutes before dinner, he could get in some suicides.

He went downstairs and changed into his exercise clothes and while downstairs he started a load of washing. Then he went outside and ran suicides for the next half hour, came back in took a shower and was in the kitchen putting the finishing touches to dinner when his father wondered into the kitchen.

While his father and he shared the kitchen table for breakfast it was not the case for dinner. His father liked to have his dinner in the dining room alone while Troy ate his in the kitchen. He served his father his dinner and sat down to eat his. While eating he got his text books out of his school bag and started to read the next chapter in his chemistry book. The teacher was not going to cover what was in that chapter for another two weeks but Troy knew he was going to need that much time to get hang of the material and not look like the idiot he was in front of the class.

When his father was done he wondered though the kitchen heading towards the family room and this was the indicator for Troy to get up and clean up, he went into the dining room to get the dishes and placed everything in the dishwasher and started it. After making sure the kitchen was its spotless self he sat back down at the kitchen table to finish his school assignments and get in some much needed studying so he was able to keep up with at least the bottom members of his class.

Around nine o'clock his father came in and informed him that he had not heard him practice the piano in a while. Troy practiced every night for an hour however his father didn't listen to him that often.

He had almost forgotten that his father was in a bad mood and he knew what was coming after his father listened to him practicing but went into the living room and sat in front of Winter & Company baby grand anyway.

Pleading and begging with his father never worked and he had lost the will to do so almost two years ago. He began to play what he had been working on which was Beethoven's Piano Concerto 2 in B flat minor. As he played he got lost in the music and he was not in this world anymore but was sharply brought back by his father, who screamed,

"Enough! Go wait for me in the basement."

Troy froze with his hands on the keys and slowly got up and did as he was told. There was one reason his father ever came down to the basement, which wasn't every often once in a month or so.

Before his father came down he took the washing out the washing machine and placed them in the dyer, he didn't dare start it with his father on the way but made a mental note to himself to do it afterwards. He then placed a chair in the middle of the room and sat down and waited.

It didn't take long for his father to descend down the stairs. He came carrying a short fat bamboo stick with him, for a moment Troy wondered if he slept with it as he had never seen where his father kept this particular item.

His father moved towards him like he was in a hurry and had other things to do and that this was a chore. As his father grabbed his right ankle and lifted it up and started to hit him on the sole of his foot, Troy considered that perhaps this was a chore for his father.

After all it was not his father's fault he was so useless in everything he did. If he was a bit better than his father wouldn't have to apply the constant discipline to keep him in line. Who knew what he would do if he wasn't constantly disciplined, pushed and punished to be normal?

Troy couldn't help but to let out a whimper as his father delivered the tenth blow and dropped his right foot, he bit his lower lip to keep quiet; he would receive an extra blow for any of the sounds he made. Then his father bent down and grabbed his left ankle and delivered the same treatment to that foot.

Troy's breath was coming in short gasps as his father finished with him delivering a very powerful 11th blow for the whimper Troy had let out. He felt his eyes water from the pain but the tears never fell. He had learnt long ago that he was not allowed to cry in front of his father if he could help it. His father had to do all these things for the sake of his mother so she wouldn't have died in vain and crying for what your father had to do for your sake was not ok.

His left foot hit the floor and pain shot up his entire leg and he rather felt than saw his father leave the basement turning of the lights at the main shaft leaving Troy in complete darkness. Troy knew his way around what he considered his room and didn't mind the darkness so much.

Once upon a time he was terrified of it but crying always got him worst punishments then the monsters in the corners, after all the monsters in the corners never hurt you for real. He just never told his father that they were still there.

He gingerly got up and painfully lipped over to the dryer, started it and made his way over to his mattress in the corner.

He lied down and pulled his knees up to his chest and covered himself with the blankets all the way so they covered his head as well as his body. He tried to tell himself that the tears that were streaming down his face were a onetime thing, next time he would be stronger and they wouldn't fall at all. He would be the strong son his father wanted but deep down he knew it was a lie; the tears would fall no matter what he did. He was a useless piece of space that no one but his father cared about. He cried himself to sleep like he done countless times in past and would do so in the future.