New Black and White Gold

NEW BLACK AND WHITE GOLD PART 4 THE JUSTICE SYSTEM SWIFT AND FINAL

Oil Can was positively grinning as he sat backing his chair. "Well, Mr. Wilson, if you'll just remain here, we'll see when the judge plans to hold court." I did not appreciate his little joke as I would certainly be just where I was unless someone released me. I was strapped in the chair. I was sweating, and I felt like crying but I was not going to give Oil Can the pleasure of seeing me descend into infantile sobbing. I sat there and tried to think rationally. There was going to be a court hearing. I would explain it all to the judge. The judge could look at the video and see how Oil Can had manipulated the phone calls. I would ask to talk to Tom Scott of the bank myself, and I would have the money and soon be free to flee this situation. That little bastard of a slave dealer might himself be in trouble. With this comforting thought I sat in my chair and tried not to consider any consequences, but that I would soon be free from this horrible situation. I was almost calm. I knew that soon all would be rectified. After about ten minutes I started to find a new sensation. I has to piss. The coffee that was so liberally offered during the slave handling training and during the action had gone through my bladder with its usual speed. The piss urge stay hidden by all the other concerns during the phone calls that had made. Now, with no other distraction I really became aware of my need. How does one tell the goons behind me - at least I assumed they were still behind me - that I needed to be allowed to go to the toilet. I began making noises behind my gag again, and thrashing about hoping to attract their concern. Well I partially successful I got their attention. However they only came over to make fun of my antics. "Look at him do a wiggle around" one of them said as he gyrated in a jerky way in imitation of me. The other one came over a patted me on the head . "There little fellow." he said, "Don't you fret. We'll have you up and out of here in no time and you will be able to spend your first night in a nice secure cage! Won't that be fun?" I suddenly heard myself talking to slaves. Why did free men talk to slaves like the slave was a child? One hour ago I was treated as an intelligent man who as a slave buyer was worthy of polite respect. Now I had already made the transition in their eyes to the slave-child who was funny in its own childlike way. I renewed my efforts leaning my head down toward my crotch and trying to use the fingers on my hands to also point in that direction. The two cretins loved these actions which they dubbed "The `restrained' chair dance." All this activity took my bladder over the edge, and suddenly the flood of urine exploded out and the smell and the huge wet area of my pants made it clear that I had pissed myself. "SHIT ASSHOLE!" exploded one of these mentally challenged brutes. "If you had to piss, why didn't you tell us?" I really wanted to piss on them at this point. They were still so slow that they did not recognize all the things that I had done to do just that. "It's a good thing that these chairs are all steel and plastic" the other solemnly intoned. "That was the little pisser just gets to sit in his own mess." I glared at him in true fury, for which I received a strong cuff to the side of my head. "Don't you glare at me shit head. You better learn respect or your ass will be sore all the time. Slaves are respectful of their betters." "I AM NOT A SLAVE" I shouted into my gag, for which fury, I received another matching blow to the other side of my head. "Sam go get some disinfectant, paper towels, and some plastic gloves. I am tired of smelling this, and pretty soon his piss will work itself from the chair on to the floor, and then We will be in trouble." I smiled to myself hearing this. I wanted them to have to have to soil their hands with my piss. It would be a bit of revenge to have the goons have to deal with my piss. As I was in this reverie, I saw the guard go to the storage cabinet that I had noticed earlier. He opened it and after stuffing his arms with the items said to his partner, "I got the stuff. Let's put shit to work." I suddenly realized what I should have known. NO free man does shitty work when a slave is around, and formalities aside, these two already thought of me as a slave, and as a slave I would be put to work on clean up. I now also found out that the plastic gloves were for the goons as they unbuckled the straps holding me in the chair. I was soon given some paper towels and told to mop up my piss and put the towels in a plastic trash bag that the goon had also brought over. Mopping up the piss got the towels sopping wet with cold piss, but I had no choices as I knew that if I did not wipe up the chair clean, I would be beaten. I finished sopping up the piss, I stood up, and looked for instructions. "Well SHIT-FOR-BRAINS USE THE DISINFECTANT AND WIPE THE CHAIR AND THEN DRY IT OFF!" This instruction was shouted and said very slowly as if I were both deaf and a two years old. Goon 1 intoned solemnly, "You see you have to give slaves very clear instructions, They don't know how to do anything except to do as told. If you forget any part of the process of even simple tasks like cleaning up piss, they just stand there stupidly like Asshole here until you give them the next steps. Any normal free man would have the intelligence to figure out what should be done next. You can always see why these guys get enslaved. They are not capable of getting through life on their own." These remarks were accompanied with head nodding and a genuine feeling of stating and hearing some great universal truth.

As I sprayed on the disinfectant, and then wiped it off, and finally wiped all the chair and seat one last time, I thought to myself "Until I made the stupid mistake of keeping bidding when I went beyond the limit that had been established I was thought of being quite capable and even intelligent. Had the spirit of competition not overcome me, I still would be regarded as an outstanding man." However competition and emotion had taken control of me, and now I was here on my knees, cleaning up my own piss, with the two cretins watching me and treating me like a retard. Soon I completed my task, and as much as I wanted to go on to the next step and prove that I was smart enough to be independent and not prove these goons wrong I really did not have any idea of what I should do next. The moment of indecision was enough, in a second I heard a slave command I had heard and even given many time. "Position 1" I knew that Position 1 was "slave at attention awaiting orders," and was one of the five basic slave commands all slave are taught to follow without even thinking. Reluctantly I did as I had seen so many slave do. I stood up straight and locked my hands to opposite arms behind my head, and fixed my eyes on the ground about a yard in front of me. "Good boy" the guard said, and patted me on the head like a pet animal. "What'll we do with his pants.. They smell too" said one of my goons in a bored monotone. "Leave'm on him" said the other goon. "It will help the judge to understand why this boy needs the discipline and direction of slavery. It'll show he can't even take care of basic hygiene." "The problem is how to keep him from messing up another chair" replied goon 2. "GOOD POINT!" goon1 said. "Go get a slave diaper and we'll put that on him." I silently cursed the outburst that had gotten me gagged. Had I not been gagged I would have been able to ask to be taken to where I could piss, and I might have been able to appear before the judge dressed like a young professional. Now I was going to appear before the judge with no pants on, and instead in a slave diaper which is used on slaves that are so animal like that the slave just pisses and shits like an animal whenever it wants. I knew that my appearance would only make my enslavement more likely. I awaited my diapering. It did not take too long as I waited in my Slave Position 1. Goon 2 went back to the cabinet and then reappeared with the yellow slave diaper in his hand. "Slave strip off pants and underwear and put them in the trash bag with the towels." goon 1 ordered. I obeyed. The diaper was placed flat on the floor. "On the floor on your back with your ass on the diaper." I was ordered. Again I just obeyed. Whoever said that corporal punishment did not change behavior I am here to tell you that that person is wrong. Those powerful slaps were in my mind as well as still present in some stinging on my face. I would obey rather than be slapped more. As I sat down with my ass positioned on the diaper and then laid back so I could be diapered as a child, I knew that it would not be hard for them to turn me into a very compliant slave. I was most of the way there already. After the Velcro fasteners were strapped tightly. I waited for further orders. I knew that I was not expected to stand up unless ordered to do so. "You look cute boy," goon one said. "Stand up and go over to one of the chairs in front of the bench." I rose and walked over to the chairs in front of the bench. I don't know what caused me to do it, but I headed for the right side and started to sit down in one of the regular chairs. The two goons had not paid attention to my walk but had instead been taking the trash bag over behind the curtain, where I heard a door open, close, and then open again. .

When they turned around goon 1 yelled. "YOU STUPID SHIT. YOU KNOW YOU'RE NOT ALLOWED IN THOSE CHAIRS AND GET OVER ON THE LEFT AND TAKE THE RESTRAINT CHAIR." I immediately arose and scrambled over to the restraint chair behind the other table and sat down and tried to give my best "I'm sorry; I did not understand look." IT WORKED. Goon 1 looked at me with a look that was a mixture of pity and contempt. "It's like I said." intoned goon 1, "You have to be very clear and exact with slave instructions. They just can't even make the most simple decisions on their own." I smiled to myself, but carefully did not allow any change to the blank look I was presenting to the two goons. As I sat there awaiting the next step in this process which I hoped would be one last chance to save myself from the slavery that seemed so close to me now, I made a mental note to give slaves a little more credit since in the quiet of the room, and with me once again retrained in a chair, I had plenty of opportunity to remember the many times I had pompously preached the similar doctrine that slaves were slaves because they were meant to be slaves, and needed to be slaves. If I escaped I planned to present a much more humane consideration of slaves into my life, and quit what I now saw to be a rationalization of free men to justify the enslavement of other men who had been free. This total change from human to property could not be justified to any rational mind unless the underlying necessity and even perhaps generosity of putting a thinking human being into a situation where to survive it had to act like a dumb animal. And I do mean dumb animal. Free men would accept more intelligent responses from real horses, dogs and other animals than they would accept or acknowledge from their former human, now slave, animals. I knew better now. I prayed that this revelation would not go in vain as I myself became a dumb human animal - credited with less sense that a well-bread horse, dog , or cat. When I was seated in one of the restraint chairs goon 2 came over and strapped my legs to the chair. "Boy, when the judge comes in all persons are supposed to rise, and technically you are still a man, and should rise. It will not help your case if you do not. If I don't strap your wrists, and around your waist you will have to keep your hands on the arms like they were strapped in except for the rising. Can you do that? I am only trying to help you." I could not believe that one of the goons was being this considerate, and so I nodded my head vigorously up and down, and so I was not strapped in except for my ankles, and my lap and wrists straps were left off. "Now don't take advantage of this kindness," goon 2 said after strapping my legs securely to the chair, "because if you do get enslaved I'll be one of the first to give you a punishment strapping on your slave butt." I knew that using a punishment strap on my butt would hurt like hell since I did not have a toughened hide like slaves acquire after having their butts swatted multiple times a day.

"Now practice standing so you don't fall on your face." he said. I again was very thankful for goon 2's consideration. I tried to get up, and with ankles strapped tightly to the chair legs. I indeed began losing my balance. Goon 2 caught me and advised me to lean a little back toward the chair as I rose, and to use my hands to grasp the chair arms to steady myself. I practiced a couple of more times. "Good boy," Goon 2 said, and instead of being offended by being called boy, I genuinely smiled as best a could and mouthed "Thank you" through my gag. Goon 2 seemed to understand my thanks and said "I think you were trying to tell us you needed to piss, and we did not understand. I think we owed you these two courtesies." I was overwhelmed with thankfulness and gratitude. I wanted to kiss his hand. When I sat there awaiting the arrival of the judge I realized how much a slave would appreciate any human kindness however small. Again my resolve to improve on my callous use of slaves became stronger, and I also resolved to revise my plans for the slave powered vehicles to include as many considerations as I could.for for the comfort the slave-power of those vehicles. A few minutes later a man arrived and slid into the real chair next to me. "I am your public defender." he said, adding " I need to see if there is any way to save you from slavery." "Guard remove this man's gag." he ordered. "I have a right to consult with my client." My luck seemed to be changing! I was shown some kindness by Goon 2, and now I had a lawyer, and he was able to get that awful gag out of my mouth. I know it is trite to say, but truly one does not appreciate something until it is lost. The ability to open and close my mouth was glorious - and that I could talk like a real human was almost thrilling beyond any good event in my entire life. Again it is trite but adversity does help a person understand the essential parts of life. I began to have some guarded hope. Maybe with my lawyer's help, I could find the money and escape the slavery which Oil Can seemed so determined to bring me to. When I could talk again, my first words were "THANK YOU SIR!" to my lawyer. He may be young, his suit rumpled, and he slightly smelled of perspiration, but to me at that moment he was as close to a saint as I ever expected to see. "My name is Sam Parish." he said, and then looking at the bright yellow slave diaper, he paused and yelled, "WHY IS MY CLIENT IN THESE SLAVE DIAPERS!? WHERE ARE HIS PANTS!? THIS MAN IS NOT A SLAVE AND IF YOU HAVE CONFISCATED HIS PANTS ILLEGALLY YOU MIGHT BE STRAPPED IN THIS CHAIR SOON." I now literally loved this guy, and weird as it might be, wondered if he would like for me to lick all that sweat off him. Well what can I say. I am still young. I am gay, and right at this moment this guy is the best friend and buddy I could imagine. I would love to show him up close and personal just how grateful I could be. The goons dashed over and Goon 2 gasped out "SIR, he pissed in his pants, and we put these on him to protect the chair. His pants are in the garbage bag, SIR" "And did he ask you to go use the rest room?" my lawyer sneered? "SIR he was gagged, and when he was wiggling around we did not understand, SIR" Goon 2 continued. "Get his pants out here, take them across the street and have them rushed clean, and I know you have some pants here, and get regular pants on him immediately!" my lawyer again yelled in a very authoritative voice. The two goons ran off to do their tasks. I loved this guy, and if he got me off, I was going to show him in EVERY WAY I knew just how much I loved him. "Now" he intoned, looking at me" tell me how you got yourself in this mess." I told him the story of the bidding, the stupid competition I got into, and finally I admitted that the attendant did tell me I had overbid my resources, and I went ahead anyway. I felt totally stupid and childish at this point. My lawyer confirmed this feeling with a terse "That wasn't too bright was it." I then told of being taken to this room, and how the phone calls were made, and how I ended up strapped down and gagged. "Well" Sam said after I finished, "the attendant did not do anything illegal. He brought you to this special reconciliation room because there was a potential you committed fraud by over bidding your resources. As you noticed this room is equipped to restrain, and even try a person who commits this crime, and there was reasonable suspicion you had committed a felony. He did not have to keep you from using the phone, but it is within his rights to do as he did. Your grabbing at the phone is a stretch of his rights to prevent a possible felon from harming him, but with the state always looking at any conviction of a young male as also creating a potential male slave, the judge will probably not give us any slack on that one." At this point Goon 1 arrived with a pair of jeans, clean and pressed. "Here SIR" he said. "These belong to one of the guards here. He keeps it here in case he wants to go out after his shift, and a slave handling uniform scares some guys." I did not really care, and I rose with my new skills and looked for someone to take off the ankle restraints that locked me to this chair. Goon 1 knelt down and began letting me free when Goon 2 arrived with my pants. "Here they are." he exclaimed breathlessly. "They cleaner rushed them through a dry cleaning, and pressed them." The lawyer said how much, and Goon 2 smiled and said "I charged it to the auction house." I thought that if I escaped after I made sure my lawyer was thanked in EVERY way I could thank him, I would have to make sure that I gave as much attention and personal appreciation as I could creatively create to Goon 2. I was released, and then looked at my fairly tight pants, and knew they would not go over the bulky diaper. My lawyer solved the problem by unfastening the diaper and letting it fall to the floor, and after giving my equipment a quick look over, said "Just put the pants on without underwear. The judge will only see the pants." I mentally noted that I had been checked out, and knew that my offer to make this MAN happy, content, and satisfied would seem to be welcomed. Goon 1 then looked at me and said "SIR DOWN so your ankles can be re-strapped." I meekly sat down and again felt my ankles lose their freedom. I hoped that this loss of freedom would not be followed by any more losses of my personal freedom. However, I pushed this idea from my mind as right at the moment the momentum seemed flowing my way. Now Sam looked at me and said "I have a cell phone. Who can you call to get the $15,000 you need?" I said that I would try for an advance from my employer. Sam gave me the phone and I dialed my boss. When he answered he seemed genuinely surprised to hear my voice. "Johnny, I had been led to believe that you were going to be enslaved for making a unsupported bid for a slave." Mr. Galvin said. "SIR no SIR, that has not happened yet. Mr. Galvin it does not need to happen if you could make me a "15,000 advance on the bonus you told me yesterday that I would be receiving this month." I knew that you have heard the saying that at some point "my heart stopped beating." Well I think that mine did as I knew this man and his decision was my fate. "Well John^Å" he intoned solemnly. My hopes began to crumble as I knew that this was not leading to what I wanted to hear. He continued slowly and seemingly with some reluctance. "John, in my conversation with that very helpful and considerate Mr. Thornhill he pointed out that if you were enslaved he could arrange your sale to the firm and even though the initial sum might be high you would now belong to us. We could be sure you worked seven days and week and longer hours, and the break even point over your freeman salary and the cost of keeping you as a slave was less than two years. I am sorry to tell you John, but you have already been officially terminated, and so there is no bonus to give you this money. There was a pause, and Mr. Galvin continued with, it seemed to me, real regret in his voice. "John I have always liked you, and I would loan you the money personally, but I am the one who sold (not a term I wanted to hear in any context at the time) the company our buying you, and I would lose my job if now I subverted the plan I have proposed." Then hastily he added, "If you are able to keep from being enslaved I will be \happy to give you my highest personal recommendation as a valuable employee and good worker." With that remark the line went dead. My ashen face and sagging shoulders told Sam the money was not coming from the bonus even before I told him what had happened. I silently said a fervent prayer that some really horrible disease or other calamity could happen soon to Mr. Oil Can Thornhill. I knew with no job a bank loan was out. "Do you have any friends who will and can advance you the money to keep you from being enslaved?" Sam asked, looking genuinely as sorry as I felt for myself. I thought and thought and suddenly had one idea. A man I had known in high school, and with whom I had done some gay sex exploration lived in the city and we had met and talked over old times on several occasions. Terry had made a ton of money , ironically in the present situation, in the slave trade. Terry was a hope. We were friends of a sort, and I suspected - actually I knew - had spent $15,000 at the racetrack one day we had gone there. I marveled that I even remembered his phone number. After just having my hopes dashed and feeling the straps on my ankles seem to tighten, now hope returned, and I could imagine these straps flying off my legs never to return. I dialed his number . I got his answering machine. At that moment Oil Can and two others slaves-to-be came into the room with a bevy of guard goons. The other restrained guys were taken over to the steel restraint chairs along the wall , and each completely strapped in. Oil Can Thornhill and another man went over to the table next to us. Thornhill smiled - no smirked - over at me. It was as if he knew that my last hope had ended in "Leave a message after the tone."

NEW BLACK AND WHITE GOLD PART 4 THE JUSTICE SYSTEM SWIFT AND FINAL Oil Can was positively grinning as he sat backing his chair. "Well, Mr. Wilson, if you'll just remain here, we'll see when the judge plans to hold court." I did not appreciate his little joke as I would certainly be just where I was unless someone released me. I was strapped in the chair. I was sweating, and I felt like crying but I was not going to give Oil Can the pleasure of seeing me descend into infantile sobbing. I sat there and tried to think rationally. There was going to be a court hearing. I would explain it all to the judge. The judge could look at the video and see how Oil Can had manipulated the phone calls. I would ask to talk to Tom Scott of the bank myself, and I would have the money and soon be free to flee this situation. That little bastard of a slave dealer might himself be in trouble. With this comforting thought I sat in my chair and tried not to consider any consequences, but that I would soon be free from this horrible situation. I was almost calm. I knew that soon all would be rectified. After about ten minutes I started to find a new sensation. I has to piss. The coffee that was so liberally offered during the slave handling training and during the action had gone through my bladder with its usual speed. The piss urge stay hidden by all the other concerns during the phone calls that had made. Now, with no other distraction I really became aware of my need. How does one tell the goons behind me - at least I assumed they were still behind me - that I needed to be allowed to go to the toilet. I began making noises behind my gag again, and thrashing about hoping to attract their concern. Well I partially successful I got their attention. However they only came over to make fun of my antics. "Look at him do a wiggle around" one of them said as he gyrated in a jerky way in imitation of me. The other one came over a patted me on the head . "There little fellow." he said, "Don't you fret. We'll have you up and out of here in no time and you will be able to spend your first night in a nice secure cage! Won't that be fun?" I suddenly heard myself talking to slaves. Why did free men talk to slaves like the slave was a child? One hour ago I was treated as an intelligent man who as a slave buyer was worthy of polite respect. Now I had already made the transition in their eyes to the slave-child who was funny in its own childlike way. I renewed my efforts leaning my head down toward my crotch and trying to use the fingers on my hands to also point in that direction. The two cretins loved these actions which they dubbed "The `restrained' chair dance." All this activity took my bladder over the edge, and suddenly the flood of urine exploded out and the smell and the huge wet area of my pants made it clear that I had pissed myself. "SHIT ASSHOLE!" exploded one of these mentally challenged brutes. "If you had to piss, why didn't you tell us?" I really wanted to piss on them at this point. They were still so slow that they did not recognize all the things that I had done to do just that. "It's a good thing that these chairs are all steel and plastic" the other solemnly intoned. "That was the little pisser just gets to sit in his own mess." I glared at him in true fury, for which I received a strong cuff to the side of my head. "Don't you glare at me shit head. You better learn respect or your ass will be sore all the time. Slaves are respectful of their betters." "I AM NOT A SLAVE" I shouted into my gag, for which fury, I received another matching blow to the other side of my head. "Sam go get some disinfectant, paper towels, and some plastic gloves. I am tired of smelling this, and pretty soon his piss will work itself from the chair on to the floor, and then We will be in trouble." I smiled to myself hearing this. I wanted them to have to have to soil their hands with my piss. It would be a bit of revenge to have the goons have to deal with my piss. As I was in this reverie, I saw the guard go to the storage cabinet that I had noticed earlier. He opened it and after stuffing his arms with the items said to his partner, "I got the stuff. Let's put shit to work." I suddenly realized what I should have known. NO free man does shitty work when a slave is around, and formalities aside, these two already thought of me as a slave, and as a slave I would be put to work on clean up. I now also found out that the plastic gloves were for the goons as they unbuckled the straps holding me in the chair. I was soon given some paper towels and told to mop up my piss and put the towels in a plastic trash bag that the goon had also brought over. Mopping up the piss got the towels sopping wet with cold piss, but I had no choices as I knew that if I did not wipe up the chair clean, I would be beaten. I finished sopping up the piss, I stood up, and looked for instructions. "Well SHIT-FOR-BRAINS USE THE DISINFECTANT AND WIPE THE CHAIR AND THEN DRY IT OFF!" This instruction was shouted and said very slowly as if I were both deaf and a two years old. Goon 1 intoned solemnly, "You see you have to give slaves very clear instructions, They don't know how to do anything except to do as told. If you forget any part of the process of even simple tasks like cleaning up piss, they just stand there stupidly like Asshole here until you give them the next steps. Any normal free man would have the intelligence to figure out what should be done next. You can always see why these guys get enslaved. They are not capable of getting through life on their own." These remarks were accompanied with head nodding and a genuine feeling of stating and hearing some great universal truth.

As I sprayed on the disinfectant, and then wiped it off, and finally wiped all the chair and seat one last time, I thought to myself "Until I made the stupid mistake of keeping bidding when I went beyond the limit that had been established I was thought of being quite capable and even intelligent. Had the spirit of competition not overcome me, I still would be regarded as an outstanding man." However competition and emotion had taken control of me, and now I was here on my knees, cleaning up my own piss, with the two cretins watching me and treating me like a retard. Soon I completed my task, and as much as I wanted to go on to the next step and prove that I was smart enough to be independent and not prove these goons wrong I really did not have any idea of what I should do next. The moment of indecision was enough, in a second I heard a slave command I had heard and even given many time. "Position 1" I knew that Position 1 was "slave at attention awaiting orders," and was one of the five basic slave commands all slave are taught to follow without even thinking. Reluctantly I did as I had seen so many slave do. I stood up straight and locked my hands to opposite arms behind my head, and fixed my eyes on the ground about a yard in front of me. "Good boy" the guard said, and patted me on the head like a pet animal. "What'll we do with his pants.. They smell too" said one of my goons in a bored monotone. "Leave'm on him" said the other goon. "It will help the judge to understand why this boy needs the discipline and direction of slavery. It'll show he can't even take care of basic hygiene." "The problem is how to keep him from messing up another chair" replied goon 2. "GOOD POINT!" goon1 said. "Go get a slave diaper and we'll put that on him." I silently cursed the outburst that had gotten me gagged. Had I not been gagged I would have been able to ask to be taken to where I could piss, and I might have been able to appear before the judge dressed like a young professional. Now I was going to appear before the judge with no pants on, and instead in a slave diaper which is used on slaves that are so animal like that the slave just pisses and shits like an animal whenever it wants. I knew that my appearance would only make my enslavement more likely. I awaited my diapering. It did not take too long as I waited in my Slave Position 1. Goon 2 went back to the cabinet and then reappeared with the yellow slave diaper in his hand. "Slave strip off pants and underwear and put them in the trash bag with the towels." goon 1 ordered. I obeyed. The diaper was placed flat on the floor. "On the floor on your back with your ass on the diaper." I was ordered. Again I just obeyed. Whoever said that corporal punishment did not change behavior I am here to tell you that that person is wrong. Those powerful slaps were in my mind as well as still present in some stinging on my face. I would obey rather than be slapped more. As I sat down with my ass positioned on the diaper and then laid back so I could be diapered as a child, I knew that it would not be hard for them to turn me into a very compliant slave. I was most of the way there already. After the Velcro fasteners were strapped tightly. I waited for further orders. I knew that I was not expected to stand up unless ordered to do so. "You look cute boy," goon one said. "Stand up and go over to one of the chairs in front of the bench." I rose and walked over to the chairs in front of the bench. I don't know what caused me to do it, but I headed for the right side and started to sit down in one of the regular chairs. The two goons had not paid attention to my walk but had instead been taking the trash bag over behind the curtain, where I heard a door open, close, and then open again. .

When they turned around goon 1 yelled. "YOU STUPID SHIT. YOU KNOW YOU'RE NOT ALLOWED IN THOSE CHAIRS AND GET OVER ON THE LEFT AND TAKE THE RESTRAINT CHAIR." I immediately arose and scrambled over to the restraint chair behind the other table and sat down and tried to give my best "I'm sorry; I did not understand look." IT WORKED. Goon 1 looked at me with a look that was a mixture of pity and contempt. "It's like I said." intoned goon 1, "You have to be very clear and exact with slave instructions. They just can't even make the most simple decisions on their own." I smiled to myself, but carefully did not allow any change to the blank look I was presenting to the two goons. As I sat there awaiting the next step in this process which I hoped would be one last chance to save myself from the slavery that seemed so close to me now, I made a mental note to give slaves a little more credit since in the quiet of the room, and with me once again retrained in a chair, I had plenty of opportunity to remember the many times I had pompously preached the similar doctrine that slaves were slaves because they were meant to be slaves, and needed to be slaves. If I escaped I planned to present a much more humane consideration of slaves into my life, and quit what I now saw to be a rationalization of free men to justify the enslavement of other men who had been free. This total change from human to property could not be justified to any rational mind unless the underlying necessity and even perhaps generosity of putting a thinking human being into a situation where to survive it had to act like a dumb animal. And I do mean dumb animal. Free men would accept more intelligent responses from real horses, dogs and other animals than they would accept or acknowledge from their former human, now slave, animals. I knew better now. I prayed that this revelation would not go in vain as I myself became a dumb human animal - credited with less sense that a well-bread horse, dog , or cat. When I was seated in one of the restraint chairs goon 2 came over and strapped my legs to the chair. "Boy, when the judge comes in all persons are supposed to rise, and technically you are still a man, and should rise. It will not help your case if you do not. If I don't strap your wrists, and around your waist you will have to keep your hands on the arms like they were strapped in except for the rising. Can you do that? I am only trying to help you." I could not believe that one of the goons was being this considerate, and so I nodded my head vigorously up and down, and so I was not strapped in except for my ankles, and my lap and wrists straps were left off. "Now don't take advantage of this kindness," goon 2 said after strapping my legs securely to the chair, "because if you do get enslaved I'll be one of the first to give you a punishment strapping on your slave butt." I knew that using a punishment strap on my butt would hurt like hell since I did not have a toughened hide like slaves acquire after having their butts swatted multiple times a day.

"Now practice standing so you don't fall on your face." he said. I again was very thankful for goon 2's consideration. I tried to get up, and with ankles strapped tightly to the chair legs. I indeed began losing my balance. Goon 2 caught me and advised me to lean a little back toward the chair as I rose, and to use my hands to grasp the chair arms to steady myself. I practiced a couple of more times. "Good boy," Goon 2 said, and instead of being offended by being called boy, I genuinely smiled as best a could and mouthed "Thank you" through my gag. Goon 2 seemed to understand my thanks and said "I think you were trying to tell us you needed to piss, and we did not understand. I think we owed you these two courtesies." I was overwhelmed with thankfulness and gratitude. I wanted to kiss his hand. When I sat there awaiting the arrival of the judge I realized how much a slave would appreciate any human kindness however small. Again my resolve to improve on my callous use of slaves became stronger, and I also resolved to revise my plans for the slave powered vehicles to include as many considerations as I could.for for the comfort the slave-power of those vehicles. A few minutes later a man arrived and slid into the real chair next to me. "I am your public defender." he said, adding " I need to see if there is any way to save you from slavery." "Guard remove this man's gag." he ordered. "I have a right to consult with my client." My luck seemed to be changing! I was shown some kindness by Goon 2, and now I had a lawyer, and he was able to get that awful gag out of my mouth. I know it is trite to say, but truly one does not appreciate something until it is lost. The ability to open and close my mouth was glorious - and that I could talk like a real human was almost thrilling beyond any good event in my entire life. Again it is trite but adversity does help a person understand the essential parts of life. I began to have some guarded hope. Maybe with my lawyer's help, I could find the money and escape the slavery which Oil Can seemed so determined to bring me to. When I could talk again, my first words were "THANK YOU SIR!" to my lawyer. He may be young, his suit rumpled, and he slightly smelled of perspiration, but to me at that moment he was as close to a saint as I ever expected to see. "My name is Sam Parish." he said, and then looking at the bright yellow slave diaper, he paused and yelled, "WHY IS MY CLIENT IN THESE SLAVE DIAPERS!? WHERE ARE HIS PANTS!? THIS MAN IS NOT A SLAVE AND IF YOU HAVE CONFISCATED HIS PANTS ILLEGALLY YOU MIGHT BE STRAPPED IN THIS CHAIR SOON." I now literally loved this guy, and weird as it might be, wondered if he would like for me to lick all that sweat off him. Well what can I say. I am still young. I am gay, and right at this moment this guy is the best friend and buddy I could imagine. I would love to show him up close and personal just how grateful I could be. The goons dashed over and Goon 2 gasped out "SIR, he pissed in his pants, and we put these on him to protect the chair. His pants are in the garbage bag, SIR" "And did he ask you to go use the rest room?" my lawyer sneered? "SIR he was gagged, and when he was wiggling around we did not understand, SIR" Goon 2 continued. "Get his pants out here, take them across the street and have them rushed clean, and I know you have some pants here, and get regular pants on him immediately!" my lawyer again yelled in a very authoritative voice. The two goons ran off to do their tasks. I loved this guy, and if he got me off, I was going to show him in EVERY WAY I knew just how much I loved him. "Now" he intoned, looking at me" tell me how you got yourself in this mess." I told him the story of the bidding, the stupid competition I got into, and finally I admitted that the attendant did tell me I had overbid my resources, and I went ahead anyway. I felt totally stupid and childish at this point. My lawyer confirmed this feeling with a terse "That wasn't too bright was it." I then told of being taken to this room, and how the phone calls were made, and how I ended up strapped down and gagged. "Well" Sam said after I finished, "the attendant did not do anything illegal. He brought you to this special reconciliation room because there was a potential you committed fraud by over bidding your resources. As you noticed this room is equipped to restrain, and even try a person who commits this crime, and there was reasonable suspicion you had committed a felony. He did not have to keep you from using the phone, but it is within his rights to do as he did. Your grabbing at the phone is a stretch of his rights to prevent a possible felon from harming him, but with the state always looking at any conviction of a young male as also creating a potential male slave, the judge will probably not give us any slack on that one." At this point Goon 1 arrived with a pair of jeans, clean and pressed. "Here SIR" he said. "These belong to one of the guards here. He keeps it here in case he wants to go out after his shift, and a slave handling uniform scares some guys." I did not really care, and I rose with my new skills and looked for someone to take off the ankle restraints that locked me to this chair. Goon 1 knelt down and began letting me free when Goon 2 arrived with my pants. "Here they are." he exclaimed breathlessly. "They cleaner rushed them through a dry cleaning, and pressed them." The lawyer said how much, and Goon 2 smiled and said "I charged it to the auction house." I thought that if I escaped after I made sure my lawyer was thanked in EVERY way I could thank him, I would have to make sure that I gave as much attention and personal appreciation as I could creatively create to Goon 2. I was released, and then looked at my fairly tight pants, and knew they would not go over the bulky diaper. My lawyer solved the problem by unfastening the diaper and letting it fall to the floor, and after giving my equipment a quick look over, said "Just put the pants on without underwear. The judge will only see the pants." I mentally noted that I had been checked out, and knew that my offer to make this MAN happy, content, and satisfied would seem to be welcomed. Goon 1 then looked at me and said "SIR DOWN so your ankles can be re-strapped." I meekly sat down and again felt my ankles lose their freedom. I hoped that this loss of freedom would not be followed by any more losses of my personal freedom. However, I pushed this idea from my mind as right at the moment the momentum seemed flowing my way. Now Sam looked at me and said "I have a cell phone. Who can you call to get the $15,000 you need?" I said that I would try for an advance from my employer. Sam gave me the phone and I dialed my boss. When he answered he seemed genuinely surprised to hear my voice. "Johnny, I had been led to believe that you were going to be enslaved for making a unsupported bid for a slave." Mr. Galvin said. "SIR no SIR, that has not happened yet. Mr. Galvin it does not need to happen if you could make me a "15,000 advance on the bonus you told me yesterday that I would be receiving this month." I knew that you have heard the saying that at some point "my heart stopped beating." Well I think that mine did as I knew this man and his decision was my fate. "Well John^Å" he intoned solemnly. My hopes began to crumble as I knew that this was not leading to what I wanted to hear. He continued slowly and seemingly with some reluctance. "John, in my conversation with that very helpful and considerate Mr. Thornhill he pointed out that if you were enslaved he could arrange your sale to the firm and even though the initial sum might be high you would now belong to us. We could be sure you worked seven days and week and longer hours, and the break even point over your freeman salary and the cost of keeping you as a slave was less than two years. I am sorry to tell you John, but you have already been officially terminated, and so there is no bonus to give you this money. There was a pause, and Mr. Galvin continued with, it seemed to me, real regret in his voice. "John I have always liked you, and I would loan you the money personally, but I am the one who sold (not a term I wanted to hear in any context at the time) the company our buying you, and I would lose my job if now I subverted the plan I have proposed." Then hastily he added, "If you are able to keep from being enslaved I will be \happy to give you my highest personal recommendation as a valuable employee and good worker." With that remark the line went dead. My ashen face and sagging shoulders told Sam the money was not coming from the bonus even before I told him what had happened. I silently said a fervent prayer that some really horrible disease or other calamity could happen soon to Mr. Oil Can Thornhill. I knew with no job a bank loan was out. "Do you have any friends who will and can advance you the money to keep you from being enslaved?" Sam asked, looking genuinely as sorry as I felt for myself. I thought and thought and suddenly had one idea. A man I had known in high school, and with whom I had done some gay sex exploration lived in the city and we had met and talked over old times on several occasions. Terry had made a ton of money , ironically in the present situation, in the slave trade. Terry was a hope. We were friends of a sort, and I suspected - actually I knew - had spent $15,000 at the racetrack one day we had gone there. I marveled that I even remembered his phone number. After just having my hopes dashed and feeling the straps on my ankles seem to tighten, now hope returned, and I could imagine these straps flying off my legs never to return. I dialed his number . I got his answering machine. At that moment Oil Can and two others slaves-to-be came into the room with a bevy of guard goons. The other restrained guys were taken over to the steel restraint chairs along the wall , and each completely strapped in. Oil Can Thornhill and another man went over to the table next to us. Thornhill smiled - no smirked - over at me. It was as if he knew that my last hope had ended in "Leave a message after the tone."