The Neighbor's New Hogboy Part Four 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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Kevin watched, from the front door of his father's house, the collection team lead his cousin Thomas into the back of the county collection van. He knew that watching his cousin get collected would be an arousing situation. So in anticipation of the sexual release he knew he would need once the ordeal was over, he had gotten himself up extra early and showered and groomed himself to look his best. He had figured that once they had taken Thomas away he could make the quick drive to his girl friend's house, Sheila, and get a quick release fuck. He knew that Sheila always fell for him and gave in easily when he was neatly groomed.
But Sheila, and women in general, were not the forces that were arousing Kevin this morning. It was instead the thrill of power, the sensuality of control, the hunger for the tears of those in training, the rapture of watching the enslaved obey, and the lust for domination.
So Kevin chucked his plans to go to Sheila's and made his way up to his bedroom. He turned on the computer and did a search for male slaves. He searched long and hard. He looked at the web sites of brokerage houses, training facilities, county outlets, state outlets, and franchise volume outlets, from around the country. He even checked European outlets. But everywhere he found the same thing; the photos of slaves which they offered on their web sites were of people who looked like any ordinary person who would be sitting next to you on the bus. The photos were doctored to make all of the servants look affable, pleasant, and very happy. And it was all a part of society's need to present social servitude as a wonderful and humane institution which offered people as pleasant looking and as nice, sweet, and normal as your Aunt Helen, and who probably entered servitude voluntarily so that they could contribute to society in a positive way.
But in reality, people only enter into a life of servitude voluntarily when there are no other options, usually when they are in a financial crisis. And the majority of servants are indentured involuntarily, and are not too happy about it.
Kevin wanted pictures of slaves being manhandled. So he searched for slave' and domination', and then he found lots of things. It was all staged pornography, but at least it was hitting the mark. Of all the things he found on the web, the pictures that most accurately mirrored what he wanted to see at this moment were from gay S & M sites. He found a movie clip of four males clad in leather vests, and little else, forcing a completely naked male into submission. They slapped him around, two of the leather-clad men stuck their cocks into the naked man's two holes, and the other two dominants started jacking their dicks over the ravaged submissive.
It was a long clip and Kevin was near to cumming by the time it was over from just gently rubbing his dick through his trousers. Before replaying the clip Kevin pulled his pants and undies all the way down and got comfortable in his computer chair. He lubed up his dick for a slicker feel, and then hit the replay button.
As he started jacking he began to moan. Moaning was something Kevin found out had power over women. Kevin found out that women loved having a big naked man moaning as he plugged away at them, like some big wild animal fucking them. So consequently moaning was something Kevin did when he jacked off alone.
Because of his moaning habit Kevin usually jacked off when he was alone in the house. But this morning he was just too horny, and forgot himself. As Kevin roared himself to a climax jacking off to gay porno, he was unaware that his father was watching him from his bedroom's doorway.
As Kevin started to wipe up his cum covered legs and desk, his father walked slowly up to him, and asked "What are you doing?"
Kevin screamed and jumped up, "Dad, jeeze you scared me! Why in the hell didn't you knock?"
As Kevin scurried to cover himself, his dad looked at his computer screen and asked, "What is this?"
"Dad, I just got so worked up. You know, with everything that was just going on."
"Son, you're gay?
"Whoa, hold on there Dad! No way am I gay!" When Kevin tried to prove his heterosexuality by showing his father all of the porn he had accumulated on his computer of women and men doing it, his dad was only all the more repulsed by his sex-obsessed son. His father came from another era; he did not realize that in the 21st century most young men spent all of their free time downloading porn from the internet. If a naked babe is just a click away, what normal male isn't going to click? And click, and click, and click?
After a moment of quiet reflection, his father spoke, "Son, I think it would be a good idea if you moved out of the house."
"But Dad! This was our agreement; you're letting me stay here so I can save money for a house down payment. I'll never save enough if I have to pay rent. Rent is so expensive right now."
"Son, clearly it's not a good thing that you're living with me. I'm really distressed son. I would like you to leave."
Kevin was incredulous, "Dad, you really think I'm a homo, don't you?"
"Son, what I think isn't important. I just want you and your computer out of this house. I think maybe you need to fend for yourself a bit, take on more responsibility, and then maybe you won't have so much time on your hands to waste on such crap!"
Kevin was flustered, "Dad, look at me. You really are upset. I bet if I were under the age of 19 you'd have me enslaved just the way Uncle Phil did Tommy."
"Kevin, I'm in no mood to argue with you, or even discuss this. I want you to start looking for a place right now. I want you out of this house by the weekend!"
For handsome and popular Kevin, this was the biggest crisis he had so far faced in his 22 years of existence. To suddenly find out that his own father wanted to have nothing to do with him, and had cast him out of the family home, was too much to bear. Kevin found himself wanting to cry, to cry really hard for the first time since he was a child. Suddenly Kevin's world was bleak, and he found himself feeling painfully alone, as he never had before.
When his father exited his bedroom and slammed the door behind him, Kevin plopped himself on his bed. And like his newly enslaved cousin when he was strapped down in the collection van just minutes ago, Kevin broke down and started to cry the loudest and hardest he had ever cried in his entire life.
When Thomas was led into Judge Golda Ruben's chamber by officers Mansley, Dante, and Carson, his father, Phillip Dayton, was already seated with his lawyer. Thomas's father and the lawyer were busy in conversation. Thomas was seated in a chair somewhat removed from his father, and when his father noticed that his son had arrived; he nodded at him, smiled and said, "Oh, hello son."
Mr. Dayton managed to conceal the fact that he was taken aback at Thomas's appearance: his left temple shaved and dyed, a big yellow tag dangling from his ear, a big pink tag clipped to his nose, and there was clearly something inside his shirt attached to the left side of his chest. Mr. Dayton held up a finger for Thomas indicating that he was pressed for time, and he and his lawyer continued hurriedly reviewing and discussing several documents that were laid out before them.
After a few moments Judge Golda Ruben entered the chamber, wearing a robe, and took a seat at her desk. Everyone stood up. Thomas noticed that Judge Ruben was a short lady, with a somewhat mean looking face.
Judge Ruben spoke, "You may be seated."
"Thomas Robert Allen Dayton, I have reviewed the order for your indenturement submitted by your father, Phillip Dayton. I find that the order, as presented, merits action. No objections, legal or otherwise, have been offered; all determining criteria have been satisfied; I have here a validation of your homosexual tendencies submitted and signed by Dr. Paul Rykus; all of the subsidiary factors listed here support the case for indenturement; and therefore I herewith sign this order of indenturement of hard and durable labor for a term of your entire natural life."
As Judge Ruben signed the order, there was absolute quiet in her chamber. When she had signed the document, she explained, "Thomas, because of your health, education, and general good condition, I am leaving all options and terms of service open and to be determined by the Hennepin County Social Services Authority so as to maximize your indenturement and the return on that indenturement for the good and the common well being of the citizens of the State of Minnesota."
Judge Ruben nodded at Thomas, "Thomas Robert Allen Dayton, you are now a social servant. I wish to thank you in advance for your commitment and wish you well."
"Officers, you may remove Thomas." When Judge Ruben stood, so did everyone else in the room. As she exited the chamber Thomas felt cold. Too cold to cry.
Mr. Dayton wanted to speak with his son after the sentencing, but his lawyer engaged him on some matters. When finally the lawyer was finished with what he had to say, Mr. Dayton looked around, but the officers had already taken Thomas away.
Thomas was led into a room where there were two boys ahead of him in line. Another boy was naked and standing on a low raised platform, and was being photographed from every angle by a youngish kid with a fancy looking camera.
The two boys directly ahead of him were undressing as their tending officers watched. The other boys in the room had much of the same processing getup as Thomas. And all of the boys had the same kind of chastity control band around the base of their cocks, which left their cocks and balls lifted up and thrust far forward.
Officer Mansley explained, "It's picture taking time."
Officer Carson, the youngest of the three officers, who was new to his job, asked, "Why would they take pictures of these servants in the condition they're now in? Who would buy a servant who looks the way these kids look: all tagged, dyed, clamped, teary-eyed, and cinched? They look kind of pathetic."
Officer Mansley responded, "The pictures that are being taken at this stage are not for the general public. These advance photos are only made available to industry insiders with whom the State of Minnesota has business partnerships. The clients who see these pictures are able to `read between the lines', so to speak, and know how to evaluate servants without being disturbed by processing getup or tear-streaked faces."
Officer Mansley instructed Thomas to remove his clothes and leave them on the floor, "Everything off, including that ring on your finger."
When the servant next in line got on the dais, Thomas was surprised at Officer Dante's comment, "Wow, look at the little dick on that kid!" The three officers laughed.
Officer Mansley spoke, "Some of the kids who come through here think that they can avoid sexual service by trying to make their dicks shrivel up as much as they can for the pictures."
Officer Carson asked, "Does it work?"
Officer Mansley laughed, "Of course not! For every buyer who wants a big-dicked slave, there's another one who only wants baby-sized weenies. There's a broad range of tastes out there!"
When Thomas had all of his clothes off, the two young officers looked him over. Officer Dante asked him, "Did you have a girlfriend, kid?"
Thomas nodded and answered quietly, "Kind of." He was unsure of the reason for the question, but he was shocked at the officer's next question, "Did you ever fuck her?"
Thomas was confused and wondered why Officer Mansley would allow the younger officers to speak in such an unprofessional manner towards him. But before Thomas could react to the lewd question, he was summoned to the dais.
As Thomas stood on the dais, and the young photographer walked around him snapping pictures of him from every angle, he felt the photographer's freedom, and he envied it. He wanted to be free like that photographer. Thomas's sense of being un-free was palpable. It was almost as if free people were another species. There was within him a deep longing to cry, but he was too exhausted to cry.
When the picture taking was over, the three officers led Thomas to a door at the back of the room, and entered into the next room; a room that left Thomas speechless.
It was a large room with concrete walls and with lots of overhead steel rigging with conveyor tracks. And from the tracks were hanging about seventy body harnesses. And in about 30 of those harnesses were suspended 30 male slaves. They were not suspended very high; their feet were only about two feet above the floor.
Officer Dante pulled one of the harnesses down and had Thomas step into it. He explained, "This harness offers full weight bearing support, so it won't cause you any discomfort.
As Officer Dante cinched Thomas into the harness Officer Mansley spoke, "The front desk told me things were going pretty slow here today, so you'll probably be hanging here for several hours before they get to you."
When Thomas was fully fitted in the harness, Officer Dante pulled on the harness's control reign and Thomas was slowly raised two feet off the floor. The three officers looked up at the dazed Thomas, and Officer Mansley spoke, "Okay, Thomas, this is where we leave you. Make sure that you behave yourself."
Officer Mansley walked off, and when Officer Dante turned to address Thomas, Officer Carson stayed with him, "Let me give you some advice kid!" Officer Dante gently grabbed Thomas's dick, which was just below the officers' face level, and with two fingers he slowly started jacking it, "These processing guys don't put up with any shit. Officer Mansley's advice is good; behave yourself or you're going to find yourself in a lot of pain."
Officer Dante let go of Thomas's dick, and the two young officers smiled with what appeared to Thomas to be genuine smiles of affection, nodded farewell, and walked off. Thomas was confused by both the consideration and the effrontery shown him thus far in his indenturement ordeal. He didn't understand how he could be touched on his private parts, and how the officers seemed unconcerned if their superiors saw what they were doing to him.
Thomas tried to collect himself, but the sights and sounds around him were too strange not to draw his full attention. There was some quiet talking among the hanging slaves; there was sobbing to be heard; there were some guys pissing onto the grated floor as they hung suspended; there was some laughter; and there were lots of erections. Seeing all of the naked men harnessed with their cinched dicks sticking out and high aroused Thomas, and soon his own dick started hardening. It felt good to let his dick rise in front of everyone. He went along with it. Suddenly in his new world it was okay to be hard in front of everybody. An hour ago he could not have imagined it. Why was everyone hard? Was it the cinch? Was it the body trying to give pleasure to men whose lives would now be short on pleasure?
Thomas's musings were interrupted by the arrival of two processor employees. Both appeared to be in their early 30's, and were dressed in the county's processing employee jumpsuits. One of them spoke, "Okay you guys, what did I just tell you? Keep the dialogue down; it's getting kind of noisy in here. If it gets any noisier in here we're going to hose you all down with ice water!"
There was immediate silence, with only the occasional sobbing to be heard. The two processors walked up to Thomas, and one of them took a tapered five inch plastic rod out of his jumpsuit pocket, squirted some lube on it, and went in back of Thomas, "Okay, loosen up, buddy. We gotta plug ya!"
As the worker tried to work the rod up Thomas's asshole, Thomas tightened and squirmed. The worker coaxed Thomas, "Come on, fella. Everyone on the harness has to get plugged. Relax your butt muscles, because this thing is coming in whether you like it or not."
As the worker pushed up on the plug, Thomas yelled out in pain, "Oww, it hurts!"
The worker was losing patience, "Come on you dipshit, we don't have all day long to get this rod up your ass!"
The second worker took out a fountain pen size taser and held it near Thomas's dick, and spoke, "You know what this baby is? It's a dick-taser. At least that's what we call it, because we like to use it on slaves' dicks. And if you don't start easing the rod up your ass, I'm gonna give your dick a tickle with this thing!"
The processor working the rod up Thomas's hole, grasped Thomas's dick with his other hand and started slowly jacking it, and was thus able to start easing the rod up Thomas's hole, "That's the way, kiddo! I find it hard to believe that someone who has a pink tag hanging from their nose doesn't like taking things up their ass."
The second processor put his taser away, "There you go homo boy! Jackin your dick a little made it go in easy. I bet you're beginning to feel at home now that you've got a rod up your ass."
Once the plug was fully in, the first processor fitted a holding band that went down Thomas's ass crack and around his left leg to hold the plug in.
The processors left the room, and the room again started buzzing with quiet talk among the hanging slaves.
Thomas now realized why almost everyone in the harnesses was so hard; the butt plug. His own cock was now not only erect, but purple knobbed hard. It was a strange world now: hanging in a harness along with 30 other naked guys, all rock hard, and with nothing they can do about it.
About two and a half hours later Thomas's father was led into the room by a processor employee, who accompanied Mr. Dayton up to the hanging Thomas. The sights in the room took Mr. Dayton by surprise, and he stood next to Thomas for a while just looking around, somewhat overwhelmed by what he saw in the room. As Mr. Dayton gazed about in amazement, the processor employee spoke, "When you're finished, just exit out the same door we came in." The employee left Mr. Dayton with his hanging son.
Eventually Mr. Dayton collected himself, looked up at Thomas, and spoke, "Tommy. I tried to get here as soon as possible. I know this is a difficult situation for you right now, but it has also been very hard on me; having to have my own son indentured for his own good. But I've got some good news for the both of us. I spent most of last night and today working out a deal with our neighbor, Mr. Patterson, and he has agreed to purchase your lease, mainly for our benefit; to help us ease into your new status together."
"Mr. Patterson, as you know, buys newly indentured servitors, and then spends about 18 months training and bulking them out for a profit. He usually has only one slave at a time, as you know. He just purchased a new slave, that young architect, Craig Winston. But when we talked about your situation, and he saw my distress in having you wrenched out of my life so suddenly, he agreed to purchase, train, and bulk you out so you could be near me. So for the first time he will be working with two slaves instead of one. He said it will be an interesting challenge for him, but he is very much looking forward to it."
Thomas's first reaction was one of horror, "But Dad, Mr. Patterson treats his slaves like crap. He spits on them, slaps them, and lets Waylan do whatever he wants with them. Waylan pees on the slaves when they're in the slave hole."
Mr. Dayton tried to calm Thomas, "Son. Do you think they would do that kind of stuff to you? Oh, sure, there's probably a few encouragement pokes and prods given out now and then, but that's to be expected. Remember how when we got our dog Bowser, we had to train him. No one likes hurting an innocent little puppy, but we had to give him some whacks from time to time with a rolled up newspaper in order to teach how to behave so that he was fit to live with us and we could share our home with him. Well that's all Mr. Patterson will be doing to you, son; giving you the equivalent of a few whaps with a rolled up newspaper from time to time to help you learn the stuff that servants have to learn. That's all son. Mr. Patterson certainly wouldn't want to hurt a boy as sweet and gentle as you."
Thomas moaned, "Dad, no!"
"Son, if I thought for a moment that you would be mistreated in any way, I certainly would never have gone the route of indenturement in treating your problem. But all the experts with the Social Services Authority assured me that servants have full protection under the law."
"And Thomas, consider this; remember how whenever Mr. Patterson would get a new slave, you and your brother, Michael, couldn't wait to see him. How you two would run across the street so that you could be the first in line to see Mr. Patterson's latest slave. Well now that new slave will be you; you will be the center of attention! The star of the show!"
Mr. Dayton was surprised that what he had just said didn't cheer Thomas up, but he continued, "And some more good news; because Mr. Patterson is a state certified trainer, that means you won't have to stay here to be trained. As soon as they take you off the harness, they'll be removing most of your getup. You'll need to stay here for a couple of days for some routine tests and surgery, but after that you will be right back in the neighborhood, just across the street from your Mom, your brother, and me!"
Thomas worried, "What surgery?"
"Just some routine implants, son. That's all."
"What kind of implants, Dad?"
"Just standard stuff they put in all servants these days. Nothing that will affect your appearance in any way."
Mr. Dayton, upset that he was seemingly unable to offer his son any comfort, touched Thomas on the leg, "Son, I hope you are not unhappy. And I hope you know that I only had you indentured because I love you so much! I have never been more proud of you, my dear, sweet, son!"
Mr. Dayton looked at his watch, "Son, I've got to run now. I just wanted to give you the good news. You hang in there!" Mr. Dayton realized his wrong choice of words as he made his exit.
Gloom overtook Thomas as he thought of Mr. Patterson's back yard slave hole. He recalled all of the slaves that he had seen in that screened-over hole through the years, cringing in fear on their first day at Mr. Patterson's. How Mr. Patterson would have a back yard barbeque and invite all of the neighbors over to see his latest purchase. How the well-meaning neighbors would look in the hole and ask the frightened slave questions, "What did you used to do?" "What were you enslaved for?" "Do you have any brothers or sisters?" "Were you married?" "Do you have any kids?" "What were your hobbies?" "Are you aware of the power of prayer to get you through difficult times?" "Do you know Jesus Christ as your personal lord and savior?"
Thomas sighed. And then, all of a sudden, he remembered Craig Winston, Mr. Patterson's latest slave. It was jacking off to thoughts of Craig that landed Thomas where he was. He would soon be living with Craig, the man of his dreams. They would be slave mates. Maybe even naked slave mates.
Thomas's anxiety dropped as his dick rehardened. He thought that maybe if he was obedient Mr. Patterson wouldn't have to treat him the way he had seen Mr. Patterson treat his other slaves. Thomas would be a good slave. He would do whatever he was told. He always thought Mr. Patterson was good looking. It would be nice to have a good-looking master.
Thomas noticed that the two processor employees had reentered the room and were taking two more slaves off the harness.
Thomas's thoughts ran to that of his home, or what used to be his home, just across the street from Mr. Patterson's. The thought of having a handsome master or slave mate could not make up for Thomas's lost freedom and his life as it used to be. Uncontrollably Thomas started to cry. Soon two boys hanging near Thomas also broke down and started crying.
As the processor employees led the two slaves out of the room, one of them spoke to the other, "That's why they're slaves; they're a fuckin bunch of crybabies who don't know how to handle life!"
To be continued...
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