All characters and events in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real events or real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Though this work of fiction may contain sexual situations and/or sexual acts between adults and minors, neither the author condones such situations and/or acts.
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A Father's Duty....
We are a proud family. Our family founded this town, such as it is. We created the factories that paid everyone in this town, if not directly, then indirectly. The mayor is a cousin. The sheriff is a second cousin. I personally am the District Attorney. And my brother is the only federal judge in the district. To say everything I did was looked at, talked about, examined and even exploited, is an understatement. So when it came time for me to buy my oldest son, Victor, his first slave, everyone was watching to see what I would do.
It is, and always has been, the custom for a father to buy his children a slave on their sixteenth birthday. Until then, they use the house slaves. Now if you are poor, you get the slaves that are left over, unwanted, or not well trained. If you have any standing in the community, it is often the custom to spend a lot of money on your child's first slave. And if your first child is a son, it's even more critical to make sure you get him the best slave you can.
My first slave was a well-trained man of 24. It had been in the military and following its service, had opted to sell himself, and his slave, in order to pay the debts left after his parents died unexpectedly. It wasn't uncommon to sell yourself into slavery, or to sell your slave. What was uncommon was that he was a well off person and would have surely been my equal if his father hadn't made some bad investments.
Now I guess I should say that most of the slaves in this country are not from farms. The law specifically forbids the forced breeding of slaves. If two slaves create a child, on their own, that child belongs to the owner of the slaves. But as the owner, the slave's education, healthcare, and wellbeing until it is of legal age to sell, fourteen, is the owner's responsibility. Therefore, most owners do not allow their slaves to breed.
Most of the slaves in this country are free men and women that sell themselves, or their minor children, into slavery. Big families are expensive, so most families will only keep the oldest son and daughter. Often, if there are any other children, they are often sold to a slave training school. Of course we have never sold a child to a slave training academy, nor has any member of our family ever sold themselves into slavery. With the position that we have in the community, it would set a bad example.
Here is where all this well ordered tradition and ritual goes slightly off track. The government just created a program that encourages public officials to buy slaves that are less desirable, less prestigious, to show that any slave can be a good slave and that its not about how much money you spend. This program started just a month before Victor's Coming of Age Day Celebration.
Today I am at the slave training and auction facility looking over possible slaves for Victor's first slave. I was sitting in a comfortable leather chair with my slave kneeling to my side as the salesman brought his finest slaves out for me to inspect. Now my slave has been at my side since I was sixteen and has done his duty very well. It has been with me longer than my wife and done his duty a whole lot more than my wife has done hers. So before I had even thought about it, my slave was handing me a cigar ready to light, knowing that soon enough he would probably be to busy. Even though there was no smoking in the slave training and auction facility, no one was going to tell me what I could and could not do.
While puffing on my cigar, bring it to life, I was watching as the line of slaves was being put in position in front of me. All of them were between fourteen and twenty. They were all perfectly built. They all had short military styled haircuts, no facial hair, and no body hair. There wasn't a blemish on any of them and while part of me wanted to get the smaller slave on the left, I knew if I did Victor wouldn't be the man he ended up serving.
On the table that sat opposite of my slave, was a crystal bottle full of hundred-year-old whiskey. There was a single crystal rocks glass, and a small crystal bowl with ice cubes. What there wasn't was an ashtray. Luckily, I always supplied my own and it was kneeling there next to me. With a look, slave held out its hand and waited for me to tap the ashes into it, then it opened its mouth and the ashes disappeared.
None of this escaped the notice of the salesman, nor did my fixation on the smaller slave to the left.
"Sir has a good eye", the salesman said as he brought the slave over for me to see closer.
The salesman proceeded to bring up the slave's information and then reading it off. I was half paying attention to him and half trying to figure out how to justify coming home with another slave for myself. I think I have long worn out the excuse that the house needed it.
"Fourteen last month..." I heard as I was eyeing the slave. "Comes from an upper class family that needed the money...." That seemed obvious, the slave had an innocent look that it wouldn't have if it had been raised in a slave training school. "untouched" ...
I shook my head, trying to get my mind back on task. I had to find a slave for Victor and while I was a man of means, I couldn't afford to buy two slaves. And I also needed to keep in mind that the government wouldn't look favorably on me buying my son such a choice, and what I expected to be expensive, slave.
"Piss" I said without another thought and my slave crawled in front of me and took out my hard cock and covered it with his mouth. As I relaxed and filled his mouth with my piss, I couldn't stop sucking on my cigar wondering how that little slave would look under my desk at the office.
"Have you heard of the new policy on Coming of Age Day slaves?" I asked the salesman.
"I have heard of them, but this is such an important day for your oldest boy...." The salesman replied.
"What do you have that would qualify?" I finished pissing and with a quick look at the glass, my slave crawled over and poured me a glass of whiskey then held it out, waiting.
"Let me look for you Sir. Should I leave this slave out or take it back?" nodding at the small slave.
"Leave it until I make my decision." Was all I could say.
I took the glass out of the slave's hand and then it returned to where it was when all this began. Kneeling at my side with one hand held out, palm up, waiting for ashes which it got whenever I tapped my cigar on it.
Into the room the salesman returned with five slaves that I would have been mortified if my father had given to me. Old, worn out, in the case of two, visible criminal tattoos, these were not what I was hoping for.
"What do you have that might be slightly better than these?" I asked and away the salesman went taking the slaves out with him.
I called the small slave over to me and started feeling my way around his body. It was tight, but not in the muscular way. This slave still had a layer of fat on it, a sure sign that it hadn't been in service too long. Typical slave food is all nutrients and protein with only trace amounts of fats. Usually after a year or two of being on a slave food diet, most of the body fat is gone.
I put my hand on the slave's ass and it instinctually pulled away making me laugh a little. The salesman was right, this slave was untouched.
Returning with another group of five slaves, the salesman returned seeing me feeling the small slave.
"Please Sir, not until the slave is paid for." He said with a smile.
This group of five slaves wasn't much better than the last. I recognized one, I had seen his file at the office, he was sold into slavery as punishment and to pay the other party who had won the lawsuit. These men were more middle aged. Again, three had visible tattoos marking them as criminals. One had tattoos more closely related to the military, and the other was too out of shape to be of any interest to me.
"What makes these three more valuable than the other two?" I asked between cigar tokes.
"All of these slaves have completed the slave training courses so are worth more. The last group of slaves have yet to be trained, so if purchased, the cost of the training would be yours Sir." The salesman said.
Well the three criminals were not bad choices, after all there would be some symmetry to a DA giving his oldest boy a slave sold into slavery for criminal acts. And this might be looked on favorably from the government. But I couldn't disappoint my boy by giving him a middle-aged slave with a criminal background.
"Slave" pointing at the other slave with what I thought might be military markings.
"Sir, this slave is a recent acquisition from the debt relief office. This slave is former military, well educated, and was given a 3 out of 5 on its service test."
That made me laugh, "3 out of 5"... that means it barely passed.
"Age?" I said looking it over.
"Paperwork shows it is 25." The salesman said turning the slave around, showing it off.
"A 3 out of 5 on its service test and its 25, this slave is almost worthless" I tested the salesman.
"Sir, we are highly motivated to sell this slave but I do need to disclose that it has had some discipline issues and we are recommending sending it back to slave training." The salesman said very matter of fact like.
"So you should be paying me to take this slave off your books." I said laughing out a cloud of smoke from my cigar.
Now the salesman knew there was a deal to be had here. He hit a button he had been carrying in his pocket and another salesman came in taking the other four slaves out of the room, leaving just the salesman, myself, my slave, the small slave, and the ex-military slave.
"I will offer you 10,000 for both." I started. This was a reasonable price for the small slave but meant that they would be giving away the other slave for free.
"Now Sir, that's not being overly reasonable. We cannot take such a low amount for two slaves." He countered.
"Then give me a number?" I asked tapping ash into my slave's hand and sitting my empty glass down.
Without prompting the small slave refilled my glass and offered it back to me.
"14...." The salesman said not missing a beat when he saw how the slave had immediately served me and got a reaction when it did.
"11,000 and I expect you to pay for this slave's retraining" I returned now fondling the ass globes of the small slave.
"Please Sir, you are putting me in an awkward position..." the salesman actually was sweating a little. "11,000, as is Sir is the best I can do."
I was now pushing on the small slave's shoulder, and it was kneeling in front of me as my slave reached over and took my cock out. This little slave's lips were as soft as I had imagined. It definitely got a 5 out of 5 on its service test. I had at least 6 inches of cock in the small slave's mouth when I countered, "10,5 you pay for that older slave's retraining, and I don't tell your boss how you allowed an unowned slave under your supervision to be used for sex, a clear crime and easy to prosecute with so many witnesses.
The salesman went white. He knew I had him. He hurried off and I finished pushing the last 4 inches of cock down my new slave's little throat. By the time the salesman returned, I was enjoying throat fucking this small slave. With a hand on the back of its head, I was making sure that it took my 10 inch cock to the base, then come up until just the head was in its mouth. Tears flowed from its eyes. Snot bubbles were popping out of its nostrils. And I was sure that while its ass might be untouched, everyone had touched this slave's tonsils.
I signed the contract just moments before I filled the small slave's stomach with my DNA, thus avoiding any crime...