NEVER THE GOLDEN SON Pt 2
NEVER THE GOLDEN SON, Chapter 2
by Master Redbeard
This is gay adult fiction (sex story) set in a society where good-looking young men are sold and used as personal service slaves (sex slaves). If it is illegal to read a story like this in your jurisdiction, go away (and move to a different jurisdiction). If you're too young to read this, go away and come back when you're older. If you don't like this sort of story, what are you doing on this website? And if you can't tell the difference between fantasy and reality, go away and get some help.
PLEASE SUPPORT NIFTY! Honestly, this story was written because I knew it could be published on Nifty.org.
Part One was told by Melvin Smith, who grew up as the black sheep of the family, his paternity questioned. Melvin always assumed he would eventually be enslaved, so he lived life drunk and fat, flunking out of two colleges and a trade school. But now, thanks to Melvin's sloth, the bank won't accept the boy as collateral on his father's loan. So instead Dad had to enslave his favorite son, the patrician, good-looking 18-year-old jock, Jordan. Chapter One was narrated by Melvin.
JORDAN'S STORY:
Just half an hour earlier, I was dressed fashionably and I planned to spend the afternoon hanging out with buddies. Now I was stripped bare naked, GPS-chipped and collared by a burly Latino Slave Cop. With my hands cuffed behind my back, I couldn't even cover my penis as I was led out the door in front of my entire neighborhood. I heard groans from some neighbors, and heard the horror in my girlfriend's voice when she saw me being placed in the slave transport.
Beside me was my vile older brother, Melvin, acting like it was all a game. I suppose for him it must have been fun. I'd suspected from any early age that Melvin was a homo. So I tried never to let him see me undressed. He caught sight of me in underpants sometimes, but I hid my dick from him.
Then not long ago I caught Melvin sucking a slaveboy's cock. Can you imagine such an outrageous thing? A free man servicing the cock of a slaveboy? It's not natural. Of course I learned early how to use a slaveboy's mouth for my own pleasure, when my father took me along to a party and insisted I be allowed to partake in the entertainment. Since then, there have been a few drunken nights with frat brothers where I've stuffed my penis into a slaveboy's bottom. Like they say, "If you fuck a slaveboy hard and rough, who's he gonna complain to?"
If our father knew Melvin was a homosexual, he would have had the dumb lug enslaved instantly. But Dad had a lot of headaches over business (I mean that literally -- there were days he was blind from the head pains), and I didn't want to upset him with news like this. Besides, I always figured it was inevitable Melvin would be carted off by the Slave Cops.
But now I was the one chained up in the slave transport, my dick and ass on full display. Sgt. Slater, the Slave Cop, attached my wrists and elbows over my head, so I was helpless. As I felt the truck move, the big Slave Cop's hands were all over my body, first grabbing my pecs, then kneading my ass.
"Hey, man, get your queer hands off...." Before I could finish the sentence, I felt the electric slave prod touch my left nipple. If I hadn't been chained in place, I would have fallen to the floor. My body convulsed, maybe harder since I was in bondage.
As I was trying to get my breath back, Slater was waving the slave prod in front of me and I mumbled, "P-p-please, sir, I'm s-sorry... I mean, this slave is s-sorry...."
Then I heard my ugly older brother laugh loud as he grabbed his dick through the front of his tan trousers. "I could cum in my boxers just watching my hot kid brother getting humiliated."
I froze in place. This stuff was getting too real. My dad wasn't here to protect me. I saw Sgt. Slater grab his penis through the front of his tight black uniform pants and grin at me. Holy fuck! I was bare ass naked and chained in place with two horny homosexuals feeling me up and exploring my muscular body. Melvin was twisting each nipple. I bit down on my lip, trying not to react from the surprising pain. He just chuckled with glee.
I felt Melvin's finger press between my butt cheeks. I tensed up instantly. But Slater pulled my big brother's finger from my virgin hole. "You gotta watch out for your fingernails. They're gonna be getting pretty intimate with his body. You don't want to leave any little cuts." In a softer voice, the Slave Cop continued, "Besides you'll get to use that body however you like by the end of the day."
Melvin's unshaved face was right up against the side of mine and his tongue was licking my ear. He grunted, "I know Daddy's gonna find a way to make this easy on you, but if I owned your ass...."
Before he could go further, the Slave Cop cut in, "Don't count yourself out. I'm going to report that your father is not a proper Master for the boy. The old man is blatant about treating this as a sham enslavement. I'm recommending you get custody of this piece of merchandise."
That's when my body really tensed up. The truck came to a stop. Slater unshackled me from the truck and let me rub my wrists to get the feeling back. He seemed solicitous, but then he took hold of my right hand and put my fingers around my older brother's erect penis. I hadn't even noticed that Melvin pulled his hard-on out of his fly.
Melvin was grinning at me. The Slave Cop was fiddling with the handle of his slave prod. I didn't want another electric jolt. I began to stroke my older brother's cock. As I was pulling his foreskin back and forth over his slippery cock head, his hands were all over my naked body. Then, in an instant, my fingers were soaked with his pre-cum and Melvin suddenly grabbed my hand to stop me from moving it. His cock pulsed and I felt his cream dripping and overflowing my fingers.
I pulled my hand back and was about to shake it in an attempt to get some of the jizz from my fingers. The Slave Cop barked, "Stop right there, slaveboy! Don't you dare waste that free man's cream. Lick it off your fingers." He put his hand on the handle of his electric prod and snapped, "NOW!"
I brought my fingers to my mouth and reluctantly licked up my brother's cum. I sucked each finger clean as I tried to forget what I was tasting. I had to suppress the urge to retch. When I finished, Melvin inspected my hands. Then he ran a finger through a patch of spunk that had landed on my chest and brought the finger to my lips. When I licked his finger clean, he patted me on the side of the face and said, "Good boy."
A leash was attached to my collar and I was led into the Slave Processing Center, My hands weren't cuffed, but there was no chance of escape surrounded by all the guards and workers. I had visited this place on a field trip in my Economics of Indenture class, and I knew there were a lot of homosexuals who worked here. I could feel them looking at me, but I kept my eyes down.
Then I felt a hand grab my right butt cheek and squeeze. I froze in place, biting my tongue to keep from shouting out. A high-pitched man's voice squealed, "Is this ass cherry?"
Sgt. Slater smartly replied, "Mr. Bodoni, sir, this is the slaveboy's former brother...."
Melvin had no sense of decorum. He was chuckling as he said, "Jordan was a straight teen jock. I'm certain he never took dick... before this."
I knew the name. Mr. Bodoni was in charge of the slave processing center, part of the family that founded the high-end Bodoni & Felch Slave Emporiums. Now he had both hands grasping my bare cheeks as he asked Melvin, "Are you planning to sell this piece of merchandise?"
Melvin stopped chuckling and said, "His father... I mean our father would never...."
Slater interrupted to say, "Don't worry about the father, Mr. Bodoni. My report will show the man was not willing to treat this s;aveboy in an appropriate manner."
There was a hard smack on my butt and then Bodoni commanded, "Bend at the waist, slaveboy. Then reach back and spread your butt cheeks as wide as you can."
What could I do? I bent over and reached back. I grabbed the inner curve of each butt cheek and pulled them as wide open as I could. I felt Bodoni's shoes kick my feet wider apart. Then he said, "Has this boy felt the electric prod yet?"
"Yes, sir. But only at 10-percent power."
The snide older man leaned over me and snarled, "You can spread those cheeks wider, boy. Show us your sweet cherry asshole." When I did as he commanded, he ran his hands over my hard muscled body and moaned, "Nice hunk of slave flesh."
I was in the slave processing center. If I said or did any little thing out of order I would have been tased and shocked and beaten. But a voice in my head was screaming: "Dammit, I'm not a piece of slave flesh! I was president of my senior class. At next month's graduation I was set to receive the school's athlete of the year honor! I'd been offered scholarships to two different Ivy League universities." But to this old queen who was feeling up my naked body, I was just a "hunk of slave flesh".
Bodoni commanded me to stand. "You know Slave Display Position, boy?"
Melvin helpfully chimed in, "He's had slaveboys all his life."
I stood upright, hands behind my back, legs at shoulder width, head upright, but eyes looking at the floor three feet in front of me. Bodoni was now caressing my face, "And he has such a lovely face, so masculine and yet boyish."
Then I heard a voice to my right call out, "I know that kid. I used to teach at his school."
As I was ushered toward that voice, Bodoni was being sociable with Melvin. I heard him explain that if Melvin didn't want to sell me outright, he might want to lease me out. "If we auctioned off his virgin ass, just for one night's use, we could make a fortune between us." He then shared his business card with my gross older brother.
I was placed on a platform with my arms chained high over my head. The man who had recognized me was Mr. Hunter, who had been my social studies teacher freshman year of high school. We were all shocked the following year when he was fired for being caught at a gay party where free boys were illegally enslaved. He was a handsome blond, with a powerful athlete's body, and none of the boys suspected him of being queer. Now he had his queer hands all over my naked flesh.
He rubbed shaving cream around my cock, then down behind my balls and between the crack of my ass. I heard, "Mmmmmm, I used to call you up to the whiteboard just to see your ass in those tight jeans you wore." A second man rubbed more shaving cream under my armpits and around my calves. Then the two giggling queers used razors to shave my body smooth. Mr. Hunter spent a long time working his fingers around in my butthole to "make sure he didn't leave any stray hairs." But as he was doing it he mumbled into my ear, "This is my pervy dream come true, fingering the ass of the cutest young jock at school."
Then his co-worker trimmed my head to a standard one-eighth inch slaveboy haircut. I caught site of myself in a mirror: no hair around my dick, no hair in my armpits, legs shaved smooth as ivory, and a super-short crewcut. If it wasn't humiliating enough that I looked and felt like a naked middle school boy, my cock was standing up rigid and stiff in front of me.
I was then led off to a small alcove by two big black slaves, frightened of what they'd do with me. It turned out they were assigned to give me enemas. At least I was behind a partition and not out in full view of the large workspace. But then I looked up and realized that my fat older brother was peeking around the partition and even rubbing his cock through his pants as he watched me take another load of water up my bowels.
Melvin looked serious as he said, "As a slaveboy, it'll be your responsibility to clean yourself out."
I heard Sgt. Slater's voice add, "Slaveboy, I didn't hear you thank your Master for giving you instruction." I mumbled a soft thank you. But Slater was already on to his next pronouncement: "After you fuck this boy up the ass, Melvin, you've gotta stick your dick in his mouth to have him clean you off. After that he'll get serious about cleaning out his hole."
They took my blood and urine. They tested my eyes and my hearing. They kept trying to upsell Melvin on special features, but he told them he'd have to think about whether to apply tattoos or piercings. It was all so much, so fast, it swept over me. Then I was chained upright to a new station. My arms were at my sides, my legs spread just a little bit. Melvin wrapped his fingers around my cock and looked into my eyes as he began pumping. Slater held a small bowl under the head of my penis. I knew they had to collect a sperm sample for the records.
Melvin really got into jerking me off. He leaned forward and started licking my left nipple. Soon he was sucking on it, then biting playfully at it. "I'll have to work these tits, boy." Then he grabbed the back of my head and pulled my face toward his. Melvin kissed me hard on the lips. His tongue pushed until it was in my mouth playing with my own tongue. His right hand never stopped stroking my cock. His left hand moved down my back and then I felt it rubbing in the crack of my ass, until it found my hole. I gasped when he shoved the full length of his finger all the way inside my ass.
He was fingerfucking my virgin hole as he tongue kissed me and jerked me off. I closed my eyes wishing I could shut out all of this. But Melvin was a homo, so he was an expert at playing with cocks. I couldn't stop myself shooting load after load of cream that filled up the small bowl Slater was holding.
Now Melvin's grin was self-satisfied as he stepped away from me and said, "From baseball hero for the school to pussyboy slave for the queers. Nice."
I tried to scrunch my face tight but I couldn't hold back. Tears were streaming down my cheeks and then my body was heaving with sobs. Nobody seemed to mind as they took me down from these restraints and brought me to the next ones.
I was led to a horse, the kind they use to fuck slaves and punish them. I was bent over the black leather top, with its rancid smell of stale sweat. My arms were shackled to the front legs of the horse, while my legs were shackled to the rear legs. Then a heavy strap was placed across my middle and cinched tight.
Melvin had been speaking to Slater in hushed tones, then I heard my brother say, "But it's only a five-year indenture...."
"Of course you can't disfigure or modify the body of a five-year boy. But branding is permitted."
Melvin's hand caressed my left butt cheek as if he was contemplating. I wanted to tell him he couldn't do it, our father would never approve. Then I wanted to beg him not to do it to his own brother. He smacked my butt and said, "We'll go with the tattoo for now."
All slaves have a red letter S placed on their left butt cheek, either with a tattoo needle or a white-hot branding iron. Slater explained that they had developed a special procedure so that the tattoo would begin fading in four-and-a-half years. That way a five-year indentured boy would have a nearly clear butt when he was freed. The pins of the tattoo needle kept stinging my tender flesh. But I looked at the fire burning nearby with brands sticking out and breathed a sigh of relief that my ass wasn't being singed with one of them.
By the time the tattoo was complete, Melvin returned from the in-house shop with various slave supplies. He fastened a permanent collar around my neck, thin platinum that clicked in place and could only be removed by a state official. Then he fastened a very thin platinum chain around my cock and behind my balls. I knew this was an electric shock device to keep slaveboys obedient.
I was then handed a little piece of cloth to wear. It was like the pouch of a jockstrap in the front, but there was only an elastic waistband, nothing at all in the back. My evil older brother chuckled, "I don't want to deprive the world of the full view of Jordan's perfect little ass." Then he cuffed my hands behind my back and used a short chain to attach my wrists to my slave collar.
I was taken by surprise when Slater forced my mouth open and pushed something between my lips. It was a device that kept my mouth open wide, but covered my teeth. My tongue was free to move around. I didn't understand the use of this thing, until the Slave Cop pushed me to my knees. I was facing his fat uncut cock. I tried to turn away but he held my face in place. I couldn't close my mouth. Soon I felt his heavy cock press down on my tongue and I could taste his leaking pre-cum.
I couldn't speak and couldn't defend myself. Besides, I was surrounded by Slave Cops and slave attendants. They were alert to any disobedient slave, and prepared to inflict punishment. My eyes were wide, trying to communicate with my brother. In my head I was shouting out, "Don't let him put that filthy cock in my mouth. You know I'm a straight boy!" But Melvin was getting too much pleasure from watching me get face fucked.
Slater grabbed my head and held me in place right up to the base of his cock. I couldn't breath because his thick black pubes were up my nostrils. His cock was pulsing and shooting cream down my throat. I had to swallow to keep from choking. The nasty Slave Cop pulled his penis from my throat before he was finished shooting, so he could splash his final drops of cum across my face.
Melvin immediately started removing the mouth spreader from my face. I gasped in relief. Without being prompted, I even said, "Th-thank you, M-master."
But then I saw that my fat older brother was pushing down his pants and his boxers, revealing his thick erection that was standing upright. I was still on my knees when he glared at me, "You're a smart boy, Jordan. Whatever else, I know you're not stupid. You know what they do to slaveboys who injure a Master?" Everyone knew that if a slaveboy injured a Master, the boy would be immediately castrated and then bullwhipped.
Melvin rubbed his dripping penis side to side on my lips as he continued, "I don't need to use the mouth guard with you, do I, slaveboy? Let's start by having you stick out your tongue and lick up all the nice pre-cum your Master has been leaking." I stuck out my tongue and started licking, then he plunged his cock deep into my throat and began fucking hard and fast. He was holding my ears and using them for leverage. Every time he slammed in deep i gagged and choked, but that only seemed to turn him on more. He pushed me down so my head was on the ground. The last few thrusts were punctuated by Melvin's obnoxious voice calling out, "Fucking... your... mouth... like... it's a.... whore's cunt." Then there was a flood of cum that I had to swallow.
Slater helped Melvin shove me into the carrier, the type you'd get for a large dog (but was too small for an 18-year-old jock). Then I was placed in the backseat of Slater's car and he drove us home.
I got up the nerve to speak and cautiously asked, "Please, Master, permission to ask a question."
There was a long silence and finally my older brother said, "Oh, go ahead, boy. But you better not displease me."
I cleared my throat and said, "My Da... I mean, um, your Father said he would meet us at the processing center, but he never showed up."
Clearly, Melvin was thinking. When he finally spoke, he scolded, "Slaveboys don't have to be concerned with the comings and goings of free men."
When we pulled up in front of the house, the twins were outside. They ran up to the car and spoke almost in unison. They said things had been so hectic they never even had a chance to phone Melvin to let him know that our father had a stroke and was taken to the hospital. "You can visit him, but the doctor says he's in a coma."
Then the blond twins looked in the backseat and saw me doubled up in the cage. Melvin opened the cage and it took some effort for me to get out and stand up. The little slave jock had fallen off, so I was once again naked in slave display position. The twins froze in place and both mouthed, "Wowwwwwwww!" Melvin gave them a wry half smile and said, "Our new slaveboy already has experience sucking cock."
Just then a big car pulled up and Mr. McKellen, Dad's lawyer, got out. He started to say something about Dad's stroke, but then he looked at me and his mouth just fell open. I swear I think I saw the old man drooling as his eyes moved up and down my naked, shaved body. I know he licked his lips when he caressed my smooth ass and finally whispered, "Fine hunk of slave flesh."
I had always thought of Mr. McKellen as a nice old rich man, almost like a kindly uncle. Now I saw him as a horny old perv who wanted my newly-enslaved body.
(END OF CHAPTER TWO)