Bankruptcy 101

By M

Published on Nov 15, 2021

Gay

INTRODUCTION. It should be obvious that the following is nothing but fiction which has no literary value. The people and situations depicted exist only in the demented imagination of the author. This story is a history of the future. Although the events are yet to happen, they are related in the past tense by someone who will have lived them -- in other words, this is complete fantasy.

Remember too what they say about free lunches. If you have the wherewithal please be as generous as possible.


CHAPTER 6, buying my slave

The way I bought my slave was a little different, but debt was the deciding factor -- debt, always debt.

I became acquainted with a guy who made deliveries to my house. He also worked at a full time job in a warehouse as well as at a second part time job. I thought he was pretty good looking, so I always found something to talk to him about when the opportunity arose. One day, he mentioned to me that he was a little frustrated because he couldn't find anyone to have sex with. "Allow me to introduce myself," I joked. When he didn't get up and run away, I said, "if you ever want to play around, don't hesitate to let me know, I always enjoy sucking a hard dick." A few days later, to my surprise, he showed up and asked if I was serious. After that, from time to time he would show up and we would have some fun.

One day, he dropped by to collect the fees for the month. While I was writing out my check, I asked him how things were going, and he told me that he was on the brink of disaster. His full time job at a warehouse was about to end because the employer had recently purchased robots which were able to perform the work he did 24 hours a day, every day of the year, and each robot could replace four or five workers because of the speed at which they operated. His delivery job was about to be taken over by drones, and his third job as a cashier was being replaced by self-service checkout scanners. In short, he was about to be out of work. When I suggested that he immediately enroll in a retraining program or begin earning a professional degree, he said that he had a large amount of debt and was becoming fearful that creditors would have him declared bankrupt before he would even begin such a plan. I agreed with him that if I were in his shoes, I'd be scared to death. I told him to stay in touch, in case there was anything I might be able to do for him. Of course, I immediately began thinking of him as a potential slave.

A couple days later, he stopped by again and told me that the worst had happened, he has lost all three jobs and bills were going to be coming due. I asked him how much he owed, and while it was a substantial amount, I thought it would be something I could handle. I just came out and asked him if he would want to bankrupt himself to me and become my property. "Do you want to be my slave," I asked. "No, not really," he responded. "Well, then fuck you. Whose slave do you want to be?" He said he didn't want to be anybody's slave, but I told him that ship had sailed. I went over his options: 1) find enough money to pay off his debts in full; 2) become my slave, or; 3) be arrested and be sold at public auction. "Right now, you probably only have two choices because, you're never going to find that much cash, you can either be my slave, or end up doing some back breaking, stinking, endless work. So, it looks like choice number 2 is your best option. How would you like to be sweating your ass off working weeks at a time with no sleep and remember that you could have been here fucking me and sucking my cock."

He said he'd have to think about it, which I understood, but he asked if in the meantime he could do odd jobs for me in exchange for food money. I told him it might be fun to have him over every day, and I'd tell him what I wanted him to do. I said that although he was a free man and could refuse to do anything, I'd push the limits a bit to see if I liked bossing him. He said he thought that would help him decide too. I made it clear that while he'd never see any cash from me, if he did a good job, I wouldn't let him go hungry. I knew I was on the right track because he didn't get up and walk out. That day I had him get out the lawn mower and he mowed my grass, and I then had him wash and wax my car. While he worked, I sat and watched him. When he was done, we grilled a couple steaks. When we were done eating, he asked me if he could give me a blow job, which I naturally accepted.

Most days when he came over, I'd have him get naked and I'd go over him from head to toe. I would have him open his mouth and put his tongue out and just generally play with him for a good hour or two, and then find some chores. Whenever he was inside my house, I had him work naked and gave him any kind of orders that popped into my head. Outside, since he was still free, I'd let him wear some shorts, but he always worked bare chested.

One day he showed me some papers he had been served. He had been declared bankrupt, and had just a week to pay off all his debts. When I suggested again that he become my slave, he asked if I couldn't just lend him the money. I explained that I wouldn't do that because if I bailed him out without taking possession, by and by he would incur more debt, go bankrupt again at which time I wouldn't be able to bail him out. He'd be sold and I'd be left with nothing to show for what I had lent him. So, If he wanted me to buy him, he'd have to let me know as soon as possible so I could complete the formalities with the county bankruptcy authorities. Otherwise, he'd have to take his chances on the auction block.

One day it happened. There was a knock on the door, and a marshal handed him papers saying that unless full payment had been received by 5:00 the next day, he would be arrested and all his property seized. I told him that push had come to shove. He had just a few hours to make a decision. I said: "This is going to be the last decision you ever make. You can decide to bankrupt yourself to me, or be arrested and put up for auction. Not making a decision was the same as deciding to go to the pens." He asked if he could have just a little more time to think about it. I told him that as long as he was a free man, he could do what ever he wanted to, but time was running out. Just before I left, I told him that as far as I was concerned, if he decided to sign the papers, he would be my property the very second he made that decision. I said "If you decide to be my slave, from the very second you say to yourself that you'll be my slave, you will belong to me. In case that's your decision I'll just give you one order now: within seconds, let's say 10 seconds, no that's too long, within 3 seconds of you making that decision, I want you to kneel down and phone me with the phone held so I can see that you're kneeling down. When I answer the phone, I want you to beg me to buy you. You had better sound sincere and respectful. Do you understand?" When he said he did, I told him I'd be waiting to hear from him.

I immediately called the bankruptcy office and explained the situation. To my surprise, I was told that the decision had already been made. The marshal was going to pick him up at 5:00 the next afternoon. A buy now price had been assigned. A buy now price was determined by expert appraises who determined what a slave was worth at auction. Most of the time the experts were right on the money, but sometimes a slave would sell below the expected price, and other times much higher. If I wanted, I could agree to pay the buy now price and avoid the hassle of the auction. And, if he wanted to think he was bankrupting himself to me, we could go through the charade -- "who cares what he thinks or knows, if he thinks it's his decision to be your slave he'll be that much easier to break in, but the result will be the the same." I told the clerk that the next day I would get a cashier's check and either bring him to the bankruptcy office or be there waiting when the marshal brought him.

The next morning, about 9:00 my phone rang and he asked if he could just ask one question. "Of course," I said He wanted to know what I would do with him if he really became my property. "That's a very good question." I said. "If you become my property, I'll do whatever the fuck I want with you. You won't have anything to say about it. You'd better get this through your head, either you do as I tell you, or you'll do what someone else tells you to do." Then I said, "stand up and listen. You've had several weeks to be thinking about this. I'm getting tired of fucking around. When I hang up, you have 20 minutes from now to decide. And if you're smart you'll make your decision in the next ten minutes. If 20 minutes goes by and I haven't heard from you -- you're on your own. The clock has been running now for five minutes." I hung up.

Just a couple minutes later my phone rang again. I just turned my phone on, and saw that he was kneeling on the floor. "What?" I said. "Master, please buy me, I want to be your slave. Please, please, master, please buy me, I'll do anything you tell me to do. I'll wait on you night and day. Please, Please Master, Please buy me." "Alright", I said. I'll be over to get you in about an hour, while you wait, I want you to stand in the corner in the kitchen. I hung up, and called the bankruptcy office and made an appointment to show up at 1:00 to complete the paperwork. The clerk told me that before coming to the office, I should go through the apartment, and help myself to any of his personal belongings. In the first place, it would be good to have him see that he no longer owned anything, and secondly, once the marshal arrived the property would be sealed until the real estate auction.

By then the banks were open, so I went and bought a cashier check. Finally, I stopped by a slave supply store to see what was there. As I drove in I saw a sign that said owners desiring slaves to go through the obstacle course should blind fold the slave now. I didn't make much of that but when I got out of my car, I noticed a set of steps in front of the store, but unlike regular steps, there was nothing but a drop off at the top. So the blindfold slave would be directed to climb the stairs only to fall after three steps. Inside the store, there were several obstacles that were perfectly visible to someone who could see, but a clear and present danger to someone wearing a blind fold. For example, there were low beams on which the slave bumped its head, poles in the middle of the aisles to walk into. There were boards with the tips of nails sticking up, so when the slave walked on them, the nails would be just painful enough that the slave would think his feet were being stabbed. One area of the floor was equipped with ball bearings so that when the slave walked over them, it was nearly impossible to keep balance. There were several free kids leading a family slave around, laughing their asses off when the slave walked into one of the obstacles, and freely using a leather strap to force the slave to get up and walk into the next obstacle. Before I left the store I bought a blindfold and put it in the glove box of my car, the clerk explained that multiple trips through the course continued to be fun, before the slave got to the store, most masters would turn the slave around several times to completely disorient it. The whole thing was considered good fun for everyone, except the slave. Next I checked out some punishment devices, I chose a whip that looked like a piece of cane, but was guaranteed to inflect maximum pain with minimal scaring. I came to an aisle that had several canisters. A salesman told me that there were various aerosols and chemicals that could be used to discipline slaves, or even to use for entertainment. He showed me a little bottle that he said contained extremely hot pepper extract. Put a little dab of this on the edge of the slaves eye or just inside his dick, and for about 20 minutes it burns like a house-on-fire. There were several aerosol cans that would inject foam into the slaves mouth or nostril(s) to simulate the taste to garbage, or pig shit and a couple that cause the sensation of pins and needles throughout the mouth and throat. All were guaranteed to cause extreme discomfort with no lasting damage. I bought several items from that department and several cans of slave food made from the meet of dogs and rodents. All slave food was certified to be complete safe and nutritious but as disgusting to the taste as possible. I decided to have the whip gift wrapped. While checking out, I told the cashier how much I liked what I saw and said I'd probably become a good customer. Nude carry-out boys put all the products in my car.

When I arrived at his apartment, there he was standing facing the wall, but about a foot away from it. I grabbed him and asked him what I had told him to do. "Stand in the corner," he said. "Then why the fuck are you standing in the middle of the room?" When I put you in the corner, I want your nose and your toes touching the wall, and I want your hands on top of your head." "Okay," I said, "from now on, when ever you come into my presence, I want you to genuflect in front of me." And, you had better start acting like a slave right now because that's what you are, and what you'll be the rest of your fucking life. Kneel down and kiss my feet!" Which he did. I took one last look around his place but didn't see anything else I wanted, so we left for the bankruptcy clerk's office.

When we walked in I told the receptionist who I am and that I had an appointment. We were led into the an office and we completed the transaction. The clerk shoved some papers in front of him and demanded he sign in about 6 places. Both the clerk and I knew the papers were meaningless, but you could see that he thought he was signing his freedom away. At that point, the Clerk told me that the cost to me was the exact amount for which I had bought the cashier's check. I gave it to him and he began to fill out the title. He asked me if I wanted to change his name. I thought for just a second, and said. Look at those ears. I've always thought they stand out prominently -- let's call him earboy. That way, when I holler his name, he'll have no doubt who I'm talking to. The clerk thought that was a great name.

When we left the Clerk's office, I made him kneel on the floor of the front seat of the car. When I stopped at a light, I happen to glance at earboy and saw he was looking out the window. I reached over grabbed his hair and slapped his face as hard as I could. "What the fuck are you looking at?" I said. "Nothing Master." He replied. I hit him again. "Your master is sitting right beside you and you'd rather look at nothing? If I ever catch you looking at anything but me, I'll beat you bloody."

After I got him home, I started playing with earboy. I got him undressed and said, "Oh, I have a little present for you." And handed him the gift wrapped package I bought for him. When he opened it and saw what it was, he didn't know how to react. I told him that was his new best friend because it would help him be a really good slave. "Let's try it out, I said and gave him a couple really hard swats across the top of the back of his legs. He let out a yell and I said, "Did that hurt." "Yes, Master," he said with tears in his eyes. "Oh, that's good. I want you to consider this guy to be your friend, because it will remind you that you belong to me, any time you're not being a good boy, or anytime I want to get your attention, this bad boy will focus you really quick." I told him that anytime he felt like he needed a good beating, he was to kiss my feet and ask me to use his friend on his butt, and that he had better ask for a beating once or twice every week.

I also enjoyed fucking with his mind. I called earboy over and had him kneel in front of me. I took hold of his ears and asked: "Are you my slave?" When he said "Yes master," I said "What are you?" He responded: "I'm your slave, master." Then I said: "Are you going to be a good slave?" "Yes master." "What are you going to be?" "I'm going to be a good slave, master." "What are you?" "I'm your slave, master." "What are you going to be?" "I'm going to be a good slave, master." Sometimes I would do that for hours at a time and then stand him up and suck his dick.

Just like the college kids, I and my friends enjoyed gaming our boys. One of my favorite games was frisbee. The first time I played with boy, I and a friend were sitting outside enjoying a bottle of wine. My friend had brought his boy, and we had both of them standing in front of us keeping track of how often their dicks got hard. I told my friend I had an idea and sent earboy to get the frisbee. The two boys thought they would toss the disk back and forth, but I had a different idea. I tossed the frisbee out into the yard and told earboy I wanted to see how fast it took him to get it back to me. When he got back, we recorded his time, and tossed the frisbee back into the yard. This time, my friend's boy was told that he'd get a spanking with one smack for every second longer than my boy's time. We repeated that several times making the boys run faster each time to avoid being spanked. After a while I told earboy to hold the frisbee in his mouth while I handcuffed him behind his back. I threw the frisbee and he had to run as fast as he could find the frisbee, pick it up in his mouth and run back. After we did that for a while the next round was to throw the frisbee and have both boys chase it together. The looser, was spanked. For the last round, we told the boys that the frisbee was always up for grabs and it was they were to fight to keep it away from the other guy and the one who came back empty would get double spankings. It was a hoot to watch them run, fight to get the frisbee in their mouth and then keep the other guy from taking it away and get it back if it was "lost." The last thing we did was to not let them see where it went, so that they had to search for it in the grass. My friend and I never had so much fun -- well we did, but frisbee was great sport.

Another good game when several of us were together was to have the boys put their noses up our asses and learn how each one of us smelled. Then, we blindfolded the boys and had them guess who's ass they were smelling with a ten stroke spanking for each wrong guess.

I decided that I wanted to put some muscle on earboy, so one day I called a cement block company and had a couple pallets of blocks delivered. I had them dropped right at the edge of my drive way, just so they were out of the street. I Told earboy to grab a block in each hand and follow me to the very back of my property. I told him to assemble the blocks in a cube and that if there was any overhang it would be his ass. I wanted the cube to be smooth as silk. Every trip to and from the street was to be done in record time. I got a chair and a cold beer and sat and watched him sweat. When the cube was assembled, it didn't look half bad. However, he then learned that the entire cube was to be moved to a different location. I kept him doing that for several hours every day. And sure enough, it wasn't long that his muscles were hard as a rock.

Over the years, I trained my boy to do everything for me from opening doors to wiping my ass after I took a shit. He would wash me in he shower, and fetch anything I wanted even if it were in reaching distance anyway. The whole idea was to boss him around as much as possible. I never let him forget that he was a slave, a piece of property, that he belonged to me. When we were out at a store or some other place, if he did the least little thing wrong, I would bare his butt and make a show of administering a good spanking. Spanking is more about the humiliation than the pain, but a little pain is good too.

One day I stopped by the slave supply store to buy some cans of slave food and a few aerosol foam cans. Close to the entrance was a display of new sulkies. I had seen a few such vehicles being pulled by ponyboy slaves, but had never given much thought to using earboy as a pony. However these sulkys kind of turned me on. A salesman saw me looking and asked if I'd like to try one out. "Your boy has very nice chest muscles and nice arms and legs. He should be able to learn very easily," he said. "Why not, let's give it a try," I said. The salesman pulled one of the carts away from the display and we had earboy stand between the poles that came with cuffs that could be attached to a boy''s wrists. "Let's just have him take the cart and walk it around the parking lot once." The salesman and I watched as earboy walked around the perimeter of the lot. The salesman said: "That boy looks really good. These sulkies are really a lot of fun for evening strolls in the park, they are more for sport than for transportation. In just a couple weeks, the store is going to start holding some weekend fairs with some nice prizes for the best looking boys." When earboy got back, the salesman invited me to get onto the seat. "Take it around the lot again," he said so I told earboy to walk again. When I got back, I remarked that was fun. The salesman said we should check out the other gear to get the most out of the sport. I got a harness that went over the top of the pony's head with a bit that was inserted in his mouth. Attached to the bit were reins to give the driver maximum control over the pony. I also bought a buggy whip that was just the right length to snap at the boy. The salesman pointed out a couple training manuals he thought would be helpful. "With a good looking boy like you have, this would be just the sport for you."

Back at home, I got earboy into the head gear and attached the reins and locked his hands on the poles of the sulky. For a while, I just had him stand there while I figured out how to pull his head first one way then the other. Little by little, he learned to respond to each tug to move his head one way or the other.

Then I got the buggy whip and snapped it a few times. I don't know if it was easy to use, or I was just good with it, but I quickly learned that I could make a loud snap right next to his ear. I could also give him a good snap on various parts of his body -- his ass, shoulders, ears, and I could even lay the tip of the whip right across his lips or his nipples. I was really happy when I landed a shot on one of his balls and he let out a good yelp, even with the bit in his mouth.

"Okay," I said, "let's walk down the street." I climbed into the seat, snapped the whip on his butt, and ordered him to walk. When we got back, I jumped down and checked to see if the bit was in his mouth properly, and I rubbed his stomach and chest and told him that he did good. "This time, I want to go a little faster. When I snap your butt, pick up the pace a little and trot rather than walk." In no time at all, he was trotting down the street.

I called up my neighbor who also had a pretty good looking boy, and told him to come and have a look at what I had just bought. I let my neighbor harness his boy and try it out. He liked it so much that he ran to the supply store and bought some gear of his own. That evening, he called and suggested we take the boys for a ride in the park.

After a couple days of walking and trotting, I decided that a really good looking pony could prance while pulling a sulky. I told earboy that while he was trotting, I wanted him to hold his head high and back a little and to lift his knees with each step, so that he was prancing rather than just jogging at a trot, but at the same pace. I could tell that he was embarrassed to being used that way, which made it all the more fun to snap the whip, pull the reins and order him to do various maneuvers. Whenever, he responded well to a couple hours of training, I would reward him by stoking his chest and belly, and when he did really well, I'd masterbate him so that he started to associate a good performance with a good hand job or even a nice blow job.

I was spending so much time training earboy to be a good pony, and working him so that his muscles were developing, that some of the yard work was being neglected, so I started thinking of buying another boy or two. One day while walking through the local farmer's market, I noticed that there was some livestock being sold at one end. One farmer had chickens for sale. Another was selling a calf. One farmer had a pair of boys with for sale signs around their necks. I stopped and had a look. The farmer said that the boys had been born on his farm and that they were now sixteen years old. They weren't brothers but they were about the same height and weight, and both were kind of cute. I liked the feel of their muscles. They both had nice cocks. After negotiating the price for both boys, I was now the owner of two more healthy young boys. I took them home and put them to work cutting the grass and other outdoor work.

That night when I hitched earboy up for a stroll in the park, I noticed some rings on each side of the sulky and got an idea. I attached a piece of chain to each ring and attached one of the boys to each side of the sulky. Now, I had earboy prancing, with a boy on each side of the cart. "Wow, that looks really sharp," said my neighbor when he caught up with me. Over the next few weeks, I trained all three boys to trot and prance in step. Any deviation from one of my commands, immediately resulted in a snap of the buggy whip. Once I snapped the boys' nuts, they learned how to stay in step. All three of the boys began to find the whole thing as stimulating as I did so there was lots of hard cock to enjoy at the end of every session.

The slave supply store sponsored a weekend show once a month. It was really a beauty contest for owners to show off their ponies. I bought a big feather to attach to earboy's head gear, and some ankle bracelets with bells so that he made a nice sound as he pranced around the track. Since the two boys attached to the sides each had a free hand, I bought a set of streamers that each one carried in their free hand. I began win prizes, mostly "gift" cards for merchandise at the store. One Saturday afternoon, I entered the boys in a pony show. We were prancing around the track. The boys' heads we high, streamers flowing, everyone in step, me snapping the whip and barking commands. As we approached the judges stand I noticed numerous cameras aimed at us. When the winners were announced, I walked away with nearly a thousand dollars in prize money -- then I found out why, as we came around the last corner, I snapped the whip and ordered the boys to step high and look sharp -- all three of them responded with beautiful big hard cocks. I was encouraged to enter the boys in several local and regional contests and the prize money just continued to roll in.

One day, I got a phone call from a guy who introduced himself as a breeder. He asked if I would be interested in selling earboy's sperm -- and he offered a fantastic price. The next weekend he came over and we milked earboy several times before he was exhausted. I couldn't believe that with the record number of bankruptcies and the low price of boys, that anyone would be breeding slaves. The guy said there was still a market for specialty boys, and earboy had such a reputation now as a prize wining pony that any of his offspring would bring a high price in about 15 years. It was a long term investment that the breeder was willing to invest in. After that, there were articles in the sport journals, and the offers for his sperm continued to come in. Within just a few weeks, the fees from the sperm became very profitable. I recouped everything that I had spent to acquire earboy as well as the other two boys, and after that it was pure profit.

I kept earboy for about 10 years, and then he began to show signs of age and his sperm count went down. By that time, I was also getting older. I put earboy on the market and he was eventually bought by a family that needed another boy to keep their house clean. I'm not sure if he's still there or if they resold him -- like an old car, after I sold him I didn't think much more about him, he served me well but his use was finished.

Every story has a beginning, a middle and an end. This is the end of my story. If anyone reads it, I hope it brings a bit of pleasure. Keep in mind that all events described here won't take place for centuries to come. This is a history of the future. As such, the author claims no ownership of this story. Nothing would give the author more pleasure than to read stories that expand on something written in these chapters.


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