Wally finally hears the sordid tale of how Rye and his brothers were originally enslaved. If you're just joining the story now, I recommend you look for the first ten chapters.
This story involves erotic situations and actual sexual contact between males - as well as humiliation, exhibition, and much of the usual stuff for this genre. If you are not at least 18 years of age (or whatever legal age is where you are) go away now! If you are offended by the content of this story go away now! If you are in a jurisdiction in which it is illegal to read or possess such fiction stories go away now (well, it would be better if you could get the hell away from that jurisdiction). And if you are someone who cannot distinguish fantasy from reality, please go away and get some help.
I welcome reader response (no flames). Include name of the story in title line. You can reach me at email address below.
THE FATE OF A POOR MAN'S SON, chapter 11
By Master Redbeard (redbeardedsf at yahoo dot com)
Randy was Captain Winston's younger son and therefore was my youngest master in the Winston household. But in my first sexual encounter with Master Randy I had found the small-framed teen to be totally submissive. After having my own butt repeatedly raped by his father and older brother, now it was my turn to fuck hard and viciously into Randy's ass. Not only had the boy been turned on the more brutal I became, but he shot his load without touching his cock as I described a fantasy of him being chained in the toilet of the African slaves' barracks.
Now I lay spread out on his big bed, my head on fluffy pillows. For the first time since my enslavement I felt fully human. How odd! I had been so dehumanized. Did it take dehumanizing someone else for me to regain my humanity? The very thought seemed to pervert the word "humanity."
Randy was eagerly slobbering off his ass juices from my cock and seemed to be enjoying himself thoroughly. But I knew things would go badly for both of us if his father or brother ever learned the nature of our encounter. That's why I lurched up when I heard a door softly open. But Randy seemed calm and just kept licking my crotch. I looked up and saw Rye approaching the bed. The tall blond slave slid his briefs down his legs as he joined us on the bed and playfully smacked Randy's round butt.
I watched with wonder as my two bedmates kissed each other passionately, then smiled and laughed into each other's faces. Randy spoke, "I hope you've been making things nice for my friend Wally here." It seemed an odd thing for the wealthy free boy to say. Everyone knows you can't be friends with a slave!
Rye put one arm around my shoulders and pulled Randy to his powerful body with his other arm as he said, "Smoothed things over the best I could, little buddy." Little buddy? Was this any way for a slave to speak to one of his masters?
The two of them turned to me and explained their relationship. They cut each other off and finished each other's sentences. Indeed, they were like two buddies. And indeed, in spite of the difference in status, I could see that they had a loving friendship.
We talked together like any three buddies might have talked. Well, except that we were naked on the bed and playfully touching each other's bodies. I learned that Randy had chosen to go to a small academic college the following year rather than following the family tradition of going to the big sports and frat university where his brother was already big man on campus. I also learned that Randy had secretly joined abolitionist organizations. He explained his opposition to slavery. But deep down I felt he truly did believe in the institution of slavery - he was just concerned that the wrong people were being enslaved.
Then Randy asked Rye to tell me his story. Rye shook his head and looked around nervously. "You know my father will never bug the room of a member of the family. He says it would set a dangerous precedent," Randy remarked. "Besides, I'm your master and I'm ordering you to tell the story."
Slave and master smiled at each other softly. Then a troubled look went across Rye's face. "My father," Rye began slowly, "worked closely with Captain Winston and considered the captain a good friend and mentor. In fact my brothers and I would visit here often. We would call the captain 'Uncle' and we would go swimming in the pool. We thought it was so cool that Uncle let us swim in our underpants or sometimes even naked in the pool. I used to giggle when uncle would dry me off naked with a big fluffy towel. I remember my father just watching and smiling. My father was as much of a na^'ve fool as I was."
"You and your brothers?" I asked.
Without looking at me Rye said, "I was the youngest of three." I noticed how he said "was" in the past tense and I felt a sense of dread. But I remained silent and let him continue.
"Then my father got into some business trouble. He was accused of industrial espionage. It was a troubled time for our family. We made a lot of visits to this house and the captain always seemed like such a good friend. Finally there was a momentous day when dad brought me and my two brothers over here and brought us all into the captain's study. I had never seen my father looking so grim before. The captain sat behind his desk watching and dad was pacing the floor trying to find the words to tell us what was happening."
Rye looked up at me and took a deep breath. "The upshot was that my father was in even worse trouble than we had realized. It looked likely that he would be convicted and that the sentence would be lifetime enslavement. Before that could even sink in, he told us that since his sons were considered assets the courts would enslave all three of us boys. Then he said that he had found a solution to save us from that fate. Well, it didn't really save us as it turned out.
"Our father looked over to Captain Winston and explained that his good friend had agreed to buy us. Dad would enslave us for five years and the captain would be our owner. Dad explained that if we were enslaved by the court we couldn't know what sort of person might buy us. But if we were already enslaved before our dad's sentencing, then the courts couldn't touch us and we would be assured of the captain as our owner. Then dad went on and on about what a good person the captain was and how much he trusted the captain.
"I remember that's the point where the captain stood up to speak to us. He was stern but kindly. He explained that this wouldn't be just a game. He said we would be slaves and would have to be inducted the way any other slaves were, that we would have to be stripped and shaved and collared, and that we would have to call him master or sir.
"It was very sobering news for a boy my age to hear, but the captain had always been kind to us and I felt certain it would all work out OK."
"H-how old were you and your brothers at the time?" I asked.
Rye answered flatly, "My oldest brother was legal age. My middle brother was three years younger than him and then there was another two years before I was born."
I did the math in my head. My mouth fell open when I realized how young Rye had been when he was first enslaved.
"Of course dad made a point of saying that there were restrictions on the uses of underage slaves. Then he quickly said that even though there could be no restrictions on the use of my oldest brother, dad trusted the captain to do the right thing. The captain kept nodding his head and mumbling his agreement. Dad looked at me and smiled saying that since I was only enslaved for five years I would only serve my time as a juvenile slave.
"When dad left he reassured us that he was certain he'd be found innocent of the charges against him. He said that he'd probably return to buy us back in a few days. What I didn't know then was that my father went directly from the captain's house to the courthouse and he would never emerge as a free man again. I would never see my father again."
Rye looked down to take a breath. I felt his pain since I also now felt certain that I would never see my father again. But at least my father wasn't enslaved. At least he wasn't enslaved as far as I knew.
Randy broke the silence by loudly saying, "His father's trial was presided over by Judge Snow and I suspect that my father...."
Rye raised a cautionary hand and said, "Please, that's a serious charge. We can't know that for sure." Then he took a deep breath and continued his story. "The captain told us he wanted to personally supervise our enslavement, but he had a uniformed slave policeman along. Suddenly it all became very intimidating. The three of us were taken to the slave bathing room downstairs. It's the place I work now, but back then I'd never seen a room like it. We were ordered to strip naked. All three of us had gone skinny dipping in the captain's pool, but this felt so very different. The three of us stood in a row while the captain and slave cop were fully clothed and staring right at us.
"Of course the nervousness made my penis fully stiff. I glanced down the row and saw that each of my brothers was in a state of arousal. The slave cop started by shaving my oldest brother. I watched the shave cream and the cop's fingers at the base of my brother's hard cock. I had seen both of my brothers naked plenty of times but had never seen either of them with an erection. In a few minutes every hair on my big brother's body had been shaved off: under his arms, on his calves, around his penis, on his balls, and even in the crack of his ass although I don't know if there really were any hairs there to begin with. Then they gave my brother a very short slave haircut, much like the one I have now; they put on a collar and cuffed his hands to the D-rings on the back of the collar. They even put a cockring behind his balls - it matched the collar - and that made his cock and balls stand out from his body, again much like the one I'm wearing now.
"My oldest brother was left standing there looking every inch the slave and the captain and slave cop turned their attention to my middle brother. The two men seemed to spend a lot of time putting their hands all over my middle brother. I couldn't understand why. But then I noticed that both of these men had big tents in the front of their pants. You know the slave cops' black uniform pants, how tight they are. I could make out the shape of the man's rod going down his leg. I remember the captain was wearing tan pants and not only was there a tent but there was a wet spot. And yet the captain was doing nothing to try to hide it. I figured he must not be aware of it and that when he realized what was showing in his pants he would be very embarrassed. Yes, I was terribly na^'ve."
Rye took a deep breath and rubbed his eyes as if it was painful for him to envision this scene from his past. "Then they were touching me. The slave cop took two swipes of the razor above the base of my penis and then told the captain that he didn't think I needed anymore shaving. But the captain had to doublecheck that by feeling around. Then the slave cop bent me over a chair and took an awful long time to determine that I didn't need anything shaved around my butthole. But the captain insisted that he had to investigate for himself. The captain's finger was working around my previously-untouched anus. I had never known such sensations before. Suddenly without any warning I erupted onto the chair. The captain lifted my face and shouted, 'Look what you've done.' Then he ordered me to lick it up.
"My oldest brother protested. But before he could get a full sentence out of his mouth the slave cop had zapped my brother's tits with a slave prod. There he was, the older teen I idolized above anyone else, writhing on the floor and peeing uncontrollably. The captain was giving a lecture about slaves being obedient and not talking out of turn, but I don't know if my brother heard a word of it.
"Meanwhile, seeing my brother zapped like that I just got down on my knees and started licking my spunk off the chair. I didn't even think of it as something sexual. I had messed up the chair and so my master had demanded that I clean it with my tongue. The idea of what I was licking repulsed me. But the taste turned out to be rather innocuous.
"As my big brother caught his breath and tried to stand up, the captain ordered him to lick his piss off the floor. My brother weakly said something about that being wrong, that the captain couldn't ask him to do something like that. That's when the captain held the slave prod just an inch away from my middle brother's balls. The slave cop held my middle brother firmly in place. Captain Winston gave my brothers the most evil grin and told them that if my oldest brother didn't lick up the piss, my middle brother would get an electric shock on his balls. My middle brother was bawling and sobbing so loud by then. My oldest brother just bowed his head looking so defeated and was licking his own piss off the floor.
"By that time all three of us were so scared that we followed the captain's commands and administered enemas to each other. I thought licking my spunk off the chair was the worst humiliation, but having both my brothers shove a nozzle up my ass and then watch as I squatted over a hole in the floor - I felt I had reached a new level of humiliation and I feared that things would get worse.
"Soon enough my middle brother and I were chained to the wall naked where we could watch the proceedings. My oldest brother was strapped down bent over the leather horse and the captain spent a long time testing various switches and canes and straps, swishing them through the air and trying to determine what would be an appropriate punishment for my brother. Then he grinned that evil grin again and let out that creepy laugh and said, 'Why should I mark up this pretty white ass when I could fuck it instead.' I watched helplessly as my hero, my oldest brother, was raped on the horse by our new master, the man who had been such a good friend to my father, the man to whom he had entrusted his sons."
Was that a tear I saw in Rye's eye? He turned away and cleared his throat. "Our master knows how to control and shape slaves. He knew that my oldest brother would withstand any sort of punishment rather than face degradation - especially in front of his two younger brothers. But the captain twisted it around so that if my brother did not follow an order instantly, the punishment would be meted out to me or my middle brother. That made my oldest brother obey."
"B-but as for you," I started hesitantly. "You were younger then."
"Right," Rye looked up at me with a sardonic smile. "But the captain could legally use me for any standard household services. The captain decided I should wash him in the shower. I remember the first time that bathroom door was closed and he was naked showing me how he wanted me to soap up my hands, how he wanted me to use my hands."
I clasped Rye's hand in mine and squeezed. I was currently serving the captain in the shower. Most mornings he would have me soap up his penis until it was good and stiff and then I would have to use my tongue to make sure I had gotten him "clean enough." I wondered how much that evil old man had dared to do with Rye when he was younger.
"Then one day I was cleaned up real good inside and out and brought up to the captain's sitting room in my slave briefs." Rye had a stoic look on his face. "He was dressed in a suit and drinking whiskey. He seemed very friendly and I was glad for that. He had me sit beside me, offered me cookies, and then he showed me some paperwork from the court. I didn't understand what it was. The captain explained that according to this paperwork I was of legal age. What he was saying seemed absurd. Anyone who looked at me could tell I was still just a boy. I tried to laugh about the error but that got the captain very angry. He roared something about, 'Who's gonna believe a slave boy over a respected judge.' And for sure there was Judge Snow's signature on the document."
Rye didn't have to continue his story. The impact of what he was saying sank in. I shook my head and whispered, "That would mean the captain is guilty of...."
"That's a very serious charge," Rye said with a defeated tone in his voice. "And if the only evidence is the word of a slave boy..." He shrugged his shoulders.
The captain's snide remarks to my father echoed in my head. My master had talked about how a man might circumvent the laws that protected slave boys who were not yet legal age. The captain had said that if everything was in private and the only two who knew about it were the master and the slave boy, no police force or court could ever touch the perpetrator.
I looked to Randy who had been silent for such a long time. He was hunched over looking down at his hands as if he were weighed down with his own family's sins. As if he felt my eyes on him he softly intoned, "I study philosophy. I believe there is a just universe. I believe that in the end all will receive justice." I wanted to spit in the wealthy free boy's face.
Another thought struck me and I turned to Rye to ask, "But the five years? You were only enslaved for five years? Surely that was over some time ago."
Rye chuckled under his breath and said, "Between the captain and his buddy, Judge Snow, they can get anything through the court."
There was a cold sinking feeling in my stomach. What did that mean to the five years and fifteen days of my enslavement? I didn't want to ask. I didn't need to ask. I knew that I was now facing lifetime enslavement.
Then I found myself with another question I didn't want to ask, but I knew I had to ask it. "Y-your brothers, Rye? W-what happened to your brothers?"
Now there were tears streaming down Rye's cheeks as he softly said, "I had been here a little less than a year. One morning I woke up and they were gone. They had been sold. Nobody said anything to me about where they had gone. I knew enough not to ask questions. I just put my head down and did the work I was ordered to do."
There was a long silence and I didn't think Rye was going to say anything else, but then he broke the silence to add, "Then sometime later the captain showed me a full-page ad in the newspaper for a show in Las Vegas, a sex show with all sorts of performers. You know that since so much is legal in Las Vegas the newspapers all over the country let them advertise those sorts of shows. And there in the center was a picture of my two brothers with my father standing between them. All of them were naked and looked very fit. Apparently the selling point of that act was that these three slaves who performed sex together right in front of the audience were truly a father and his two sons. It said that the club had authentication that they really were blood relations. It also said that these performers were available to be booked for private sex or parties.
"The captain then made the point that the owner of that club had offered him a huge sum of money for me. But the captain wanted to keep me. He told me I was the lucky one. I was somehow special to him. He has this theory that the very best slaves are the ones you can break at a young age. I suppose I was the youngest he ever had. Maybe his theory is right. I have always been an obedient and faithful slave to my master."
Rye shook his head. "I don't know what's happened to the three of them since. My father was a very fit and handsome man. But he would be around fifty by now. I don't want to think of what his probable fate has been. My brothers? Well, I understand the audience gets tired of performers in Las Vegas after about three or four years. The performers are then sold to brothels. They start off in high-class brothels in New York or London where clients are paying a small fortune to use them. But as time goes on they are transferred and transferred again until they end up in some flea-infested shanty in Thailand or in Nigeria where they're chained to the bed and servicing dozens of men a day.
"Yes, I suppose my master was right. I am the lucky one." Randy wrapped his arms around Rye and held him. I wrapped my arms around both of them and wished we could just stay like this and not have to face this terrible world again. But I knew we would have to face the world. And I knew that the captain's party was coming up very soon.