Christopher Enslaved
Part Fourteen
By Randall Austin
This story is erotic fiction meant for mature readers and should only be read by adults over the age of eighteen years old. Please do not use my stories without my permission and please forward all comments to randallaustin2011@hotmail.com
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Licker was on good behavior for most of the time after that cell phone incident, and as a reward I told Licker I had a surprise for him. On the last weekend of his stay with me I was throwing a big party in his honor for all of our old friends. He came up to me and in the most honest and direct way he ever spoke to me since he had been enslaved (actually talking to me the way Christopher used to talk to me, not like some sneaky slave who really could no longer stand my guts), and begged me not to have the party. I reassured him. I told him that I was not planning on using him to serve the guests or humiliating him in any way. This was to be a party, a happy time, and he was to be a guest like everyone else. I explained that while he was no longer one of the gang anymore in the old sense, he was still our friend and pal. True, he had a different status now, but we all did. Some of the guys were no longer in school, some were now working full time, and some were unemployed. "I'm now in graduate school, and you're with Baldwin/Fletcher. None of us has to be ashamed of where we are in life." He seemed to buy it.
For the party I wanted to dress Licker up so everyone could see that he was a very stylish slave. I gave him instructions in preparing himself. I wanted him to bathe, shave his pubes, shave his head very neatly around his dome cross, and to oil and powder himself. When he presented himself to me after he had done all of this I led him to my room and asked him to select one of his colognes. He told me he didn't want to wear any cologne, so I selected the one I knew was his favorite and had him lift his arms. I sprayed the cologne into both of his arm pits, squirted some on the area just below his belly button, shot some on his inner thighs, and turned him around and sprayed a healthy dose into his ass crack. I wanted him perfumed slightly more than would be in good taste both to give him a slightly whorey top note, and also to humiliate him. For clothes I had him wear one of those slave skirts and belt that one sees a lot in the slave catalogues, but doesn't see too often in actual use. I figured it would make him stand out somewhat in the crowd, keep his torso nicely exposed, and any guest who wanted to see what a slave's shaved up sex organs look like would have easy access.
I gelled and pomaded the hair on his head, stylishly highlighting his slave cross hair cut. I was going to put a bow tie on him, but when I looked through his assortment of ties which I got from his dad, along with all of his other stuff, I found a very nice long green and yellow silk full length wide tie with a subtle floral pattern. It hung very nicely between his ringed nipples, and went very well with his green slave skirt. I had him put on his fancy slave sandals, with straps going seven inches up the leg. I put slave garters above his knees and on his wrists. From his slave duffle I had him get his slave paint and paint his lips and cheeks red. Slave paint is very soft, not high gloss, so it looks like he was eating berries. But it made him look so good that I also had him paint his dick tip, the glans, just the way he has to do every day out at Baldwin/Fletcher as a field display slave.
As I worked on him in front of the full length mirror I told him he was a beautiful slave. I know he was proud, because he kept looking at himself in the mirror. When it came to jewelry I asked him if he wanted to put any on from his duffle, and to my pleasant surprise he wanted to. He hung a silver porpoise from his right tit ring, and selected three rings, one for the ring finger of his right hand, and one for the index and little finger of his left hand. As he was about to close his jewelry box I noticed an elegant silver mouse. I took it, lifted his skirt, and attached it to his penis ring. I looked up at him, and we both smiled at each other.
But Licker's quiet, pliant, and submissive way did not fool me for a minute. He was preparing to play the slave for our former classmates, even going to extremes of presenting himself as a spectacle to make a statement, and doubtless hoping to win sympathy. What poor Licker didn't understand was that his act probably wouldn't work. Sympathy for slaves was dwindling fast, and slavery was gradually becoming more and more acceptable, even in liberal California. Things had already changed dramatically since he had been enslaved over half a year ago.
The party started out as I expected. Everyone was happy to see old school chums. What everyone really wanted to see was Christopher, but they all put on a good act. No one expressed so much as the mildest astonishment when they met their old classmate Christopher, now drudged to the hilt. And when everyone shook Licker's hand, they all acted as if, Great to see you, you're looking great, no big deal that you are now a lifer slave'. I knew that whole show couldn't last for long, and once things got under way and the alcohol started flowing, questions finally started to get asked and concerns voiced. And that was soon followed, with the help of plenty of party beer, with stronger, less sober reactions. I soon knew I had a party with balls' going.
Licker behaved himself, only talking to answer questions. A few times throughout the party I caught him talking eagerly with Quentin Santos and his buddies, but always out of earshot. Quentin was an anti slave activist, and I invited him not only because he and Christopher were rather close friends, but also to sort of shove Licker and the advancements slavery had made in California in his face.
Peter Burrell and Ivan Ologochev were two of mine and Christopher's best friends during our high school days. We were four idealistic antislavery young men. But by now they had positioned themselves with Quentin and his pals. That judgmental group did not look to be in a very partying mood, hanging around the fringes, doubtless disgusted with the happy laughing party goers. One of my goals in this little gathering was to educate, to proselytize a bit for slavery, to let everyone see that Christopher, rather than being some abject slave, was still my happy friend. There were always going to be Quentin types in the world, no use in letting them get the best of you.
Beth Middleton, a sweet compassionate former classmate, whose father owned a couple of slaves, arrived in high and bubbly spirits. She went right up to Licker and gave him a big warm hug and told him she was happy to see him and how great he looked. And she brought a present. "This is for you Christopher." Christopher looked at me, and I indicated for him to open the present. It was a set of three of those popular Slave Signs' for hanging around a slave's neck, that have some slogan or question designed to make slaves endearing. The three Beth gave us were, I feel like dancing!', No chore too big or too small!' and Have you given me enough spankings today?' We all laughed and tried to decide which one we should hang on Licker. We all agreed it should be `Have you given me enough spankings today?' Beth took the sign from Licker's hands and hung it around his neck.
Seeing the sign, Claire Boldstrom remarked, "Now make sure you behave Christopher, or else you're going to have to go over Todd's knee."
During the laughter that followed Cooper Davis asked if Christopher had ever been bad and if I ever had to actually punish our old classmate. I explained, "It's not that Christopher is a bad person, but it is the case that sometimes he is not the best slave. A slave is always going to try to get away with stuff. I mean, if you had to do what you were told to do all day long, wouldn't you start thinking, `What in the fuck am I doing this shit for?', and look for those times when you could get out of doing it. It's not that Christopher is bad. No way. He's my best pal and I love him. But he's a slave and I know how slaves think, how they're always trying to get out of things. I simply want him to be the best slave he can be, and to that end I have had to discipline him a few times."
"It's amazing, really. Licker has been through some of the most rigorous professional obedience training out there, and he still messes up occasionally. He's already rounded up three demerits since he's been here, and out at Baldwin/Fletcher that means he would be due for what they call a `reformatory strapping'."
Quentin interrupted, feeling the need to show his moral superiority, "Todd, I hope you're just talking that way because of all the booze. Because if that's the way you talk in real life, you have some pretty messed up values." There was now tension in the air, and I wasn't going to let it win out, "Quentin, how would you like it if I were to send Licker over to your place for a day so he can do all those odd shit jobs you have been putting off? Get all that crap work out of the way once and for all, what do you say?" Quentin gave a really nasty sneer and shake of the head, but the laughter that followed my remark won back the party mood.
Cooper Davis handed Licker a beer, and I had to stop him. "No beer for the slave, please. He's drinking tomato juice." "Oh come on, let him have a beer!", insisted Cooper.
Mike Draker put some sense into Cooper's head, "Oh yea, great, that's all we need is a fucking drunken slave on our hands!"
George Sillmore was a neighbor and friend of Licker's dad. We both used to caddy for him when we were young, so I invited him for old time's sake. He looked Licker over approvingly. "Well, well, Christopher, good to see you! Are you behaving yourself?" Licker nodded `Yes'. "Good. You make a real cute little slave pup. When you're dad was wondering about getting you enslaved I assured him it wasn't such a bad thing, that slaves lead a carefree life and all. Now I can assure him that I was right and he did the right thing. Slavery is a real good fit for you." Not surprisingly George left the party soon after getting a look at Christopher.
Oswald Stoddard was our old friend and classmate, and a long time vocal proponent of slavery. I knew he would relish, more than anyone else, seeing an old classmate enslaved. He and his friend Bill Abbey came up to me and shook my hand. Oswald greeted Licker, but did not extend a hand. "Well, Well, Mr. Christopher Worthington, look at you! How have you been holding up buddy?" Without waiting to hear an answer he asked me what Christopher's CSSR (California State Slave Rating) rating was? He was intent on showing the group how much he knew of slave lore and culture. When I answered "140, 30, 10", Oswald pursed his lips and squinted, "Whew, he must of had some damn good training. I bet he comes with a pretty hefty price tag." Then looking at Licker, "That means you must do an awful lot of hard work, kiddo. Someone's gotta make a lot of money back on that kind of investment."
Oswald took hold of Licker's smock by the hem and turned it up, exposing his private parts. For the majority of my guests this was a dramatic move, one they just were not used to seeing. Oswald grabbed Licker's flesh by the lower abdomen and squeezed samples. "They keep him nice and firm. I see he's on KLC rations." Oswald dropped the hem and said to Bill, "There's something satisfying about seeing a slave with this kind of CSSR rating. You can bet this one hops to orders on a dime."
Quentin spoke up. "It's obscene." Oswald was up to the unexpected remark. "Talk is cheap. Everything is obscene today. Are all of the slave protection laws obscene? The fact is that..." He was interrupted by Quentin's friend, Miles, "The fact is that this man is a human being."
"Did I say he wasn't human?" Oswald had been in one too many of these circular arguments, and he seemed almost weary of going on in defense of slavery. "We free boys need to stick together right now, what with the legislature considering more strictures on the Slave Handling Act. Hey, I know what would change all of your minds. Let's fit Christopher with a sucker's muzzle and have him get to work on all of us." The loud raucous laughter that followed that brazen remark put everyone back into the party mood, and the booze started flowing again at a good pace.
Cindy, beer in hand, not the brightest bulb in the chandelier, asked what was so bad about slavery. "He looks more fit than any of us. And he doesn't have any whip marks or scars on his back."
Quentin responded, "They've got state of the art punishment, Cindy, designed not to mark."
"You mean Christopher really gets punished?", giggled Cindy as Matthew Koerner put his arm around her and pulled her close to protect her from the harsh reality doubtless about to hit our ears.
David Sorenson answered for me, "Is the pope Catholic? Duhhhhh? Whaddya think?" Everyone laughed, but now everyone was curious. But surprisingly, no one offered any layman stories they had overheard on the matter of slave punishment, so I decided to be the decisive voice of authority on the matter. "One thing you will never hear Licker's owners, the Baldwin's, saying is, "There are going to be some changes made around here. Things are going to tighten up around here." Resolves like that don't need to be voiced because they go by the rules out there. We keep the slaves on their feet and towing the line 24 hours a day."
I then got a brilliant party idea. I decided to read from Licker's punishment book. I excused myself saying it was show and tell time. When I came back into the living room with the book, I saw Licker put his head down. His face turned red. "What I have here is the slave's punishment book. Here Licker records his shortcomings and his feelings about them. Let me read you a few entries from just this past summer."
To be continued...
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