(m/m, m/t, forced, slavery, nc, oral, anal)
This story is (c) Copyright 2007, by MickMack. All World Wide Rights Reserved.
The story below is the epic tale of a totally fictional event. Your feedback would be greatly appreciated. It is gay erotica and is intended to be read by persons who are 18 years of age or older, and by persons that enjoy gay erotica.
The material covered in this story and all other accompanying parts of this story are fictional. Any similarities to persons living or dead are pure coincidence.
Please Note: To those who like reading my material, I apologise for taking so much time in getting this story written and posted. It is a bit off the usual subject matter I play around with, but hopefully you'll enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Please send your comments to: mickmack999@yahoo.com.au
The Reluctant Slave
The Life and Times of Brad Cahill - Pleasure Slave
- Evan Morgan - Family Unity
(From the Private Diary of Evan Morgan)
Sometimes I think I'm just so naïve. So stupidly gullible!
Like the time when I was told Brad Cahill's parents had suddenly taken him out of school so he could attend a relative's funeral somewhere on the east coast.
At the time I found out, I remember feeling heart-felt sympathy for him and his family's recent loss, but I also looked forward to when he returned to school. In my own closeted way, I missed Brad, especially watching his handsome muscular body working out at football training, as well as our regular talks when we bumped into each other.
And I can tell you truthfully that I didn't connect his sudden departure to anything my brother Noel might have been involved in, even though Brad's departure for the family funeral occurred the day after their fight.
How could I have known anything was out of the ordinary, that something was terribly wrong?
How was I supposed to know that Noel had done something so horrendous that would shock and horrify me when I eventually found out?
Anyway, as I was soon to learn, my whole life was about to be turned upside down as I was forced to make a decision that would ultimately alienate me from my parents and turn me against my own big brother Noel.
My parents, Senator James and Gracie Morgan, my eldest brother Noel and I lived in the most expensive area of town. Our family's considered one of the oldest and richest families to have settled in the region more than 200 years ago, and as such, we're held in the highest regard.
In fact, my family was here decades before slavery eventually reached its penultimate peak in the mid 1800's, before finally being abolished at the end of the 19th century. And of course, my family was also one of the first families in our state to immediately benefit financially when slavery was re-introduced just over 30 years ago.
And when you think about it, 30 years really isn't that long ago. Everyone who was young then still remembers how all the territories voted to re-instate slavery, except for three states who abstained, and as such, New Holland, Concordia and Levanda remained slave free. In fact, it is actually illegal to own slaves there, or to try and enslave anyone.
Thing is, I'd never really thought that much about slavery, or voluntary indentured service, because both Noel and I were born into a highly structured society that already prized and indulged in the lucrative commerce that arises from an international export import slave policy.
In our house alone, we have over 50 slaves. We have 14 house slaves, 6 pleasure slaves belonging to my father and brother, and 30 field slaves.
Anyway as Noel and I grew up, it was only natural that we'd learn there is a class and caste structure that automatically dictates where all individual members of our society fit.
Unfortunately, I can honestly say I really took very little interest in how the slaves on our own property were managed. I knew we had an overseer, Mr Hendricks, a huge stout weather-beaten faced middle aged man whose permanent scowl scared me at times.
It was his job to ensure the highest level of discipline among our slaves at all times. Although he was an expert in his field, a professional slave and RFID microchip and security technician, I must admit I'd never actually witnessed any disciplinary measures meted out by him.
To me, even at an early age, it all just seemed far too barbarous, and my dear mother always kept me sheltered from the harsh realities of slavery within our modern society.
Of course, because of our family's very high social status within the state, I wasn't blinded to the fact it was our obligation to own and care for a large number of very carefully trained well disciplined slaves within our household. I mean, who else would have looked after our daily needs, and work on the huge plantations we owned.
In fact, I'd always had an elderly slave whom I've known all my life to look after my needs. To me, he was my personal valet, and his name was Monet. A gentle very obedient and humble old man, he dressed in the traditional slave outfit, a respectable knees-length loin cloth, and waited on and cared for me in ways my parents never had.
When I woke up in the morning, he was always there to wash me and dress me. When I got back from school, he'd make sure my after-school clothes were laid out neatly and ready for me to change into. When I was ready for bed, he was always there to tuck me in and read me stories from my favourite fictional fantasy novels.
There was nothing sexual in it at all. He was just my `friend'. Even though father and Noel insisted I get myself my own personal pleasure slave, I just found the idea far too disgusting for my liking.
Also, I had an unfounded fear that if I did go out and select myself a pleasure slave, then everyone would somehow know my biggest secret, that I was gay. I know it was stupid of me, but it was a concern I had at the time.
Of course Noel would sneer at me and call me a prude, but I also liked to think of myself as romantic, secretly waiting for the right person to come along and sweep me off my feet. I also knew that wasn't going to happen, especially in our enlightened times.
And even though Noel and my father always said Monet was just an aging useless slave past his prime, I didn't care one bit, as I don't think I really ever thought of him as just a `slave'.
To me, he had always been there whenever I needed his kindness. To me, he was part of our family, a trusted loyal friend I could always speak to.
Noel, on the other hand, owned an extremely good looking young male slave, whose duties were to look after every one of my brother's daily needs. Ever since Noel had turned 15, my brother had suddenly insisted on selling off his much older childhood slave.
And with my parents blessing, he'd gone out and bought himself one of those very expensive pleasure slaves. A year younger than my brother, Noel had named him August, based solely on the fact he'd bought the slave in the month of August.
August was the same height as Noel, gorgeously lean and slender, and because he was kept naked at all times, you couldn't but notice he had a rather long and thick circumcised penis. Noel, of course, treated him like a favourite pet most of the time, even letting August grow his auburn coloured hair which the young slave was ordered to keep short and stylised at all times.
From the day he'd brought August home, he'd loudly proclaimed I was henceforth barred from his bedroom, never to enter without his permission. Not that that meant anything to me, as I never entered his room anyway, for fear of eliciting his ever-growing fury and cruelty.
As it is, I've always felt sorry for August because I could tell he lived in constant fear of my brother. I can only imagine what vile things Noel did to him in the privacy of his own bedroom.
So it was on that fateful day, a month after my high school sports hero Brad Cahill had knocked Noel unconscious that my life was forever changed.
On that day, just before the sun had set, Noel had come crashing into my bedroom, rambling on like a lunatic, shouting at me excitedly to follow him to the main study.
"Come on slack-ass! Boy, have I got a surprise for you?" Noel had rattled on, urging me to hurry up and follow him. But when I'd cringed away from him in distrust and confusion, unable to understand his enthusiasm and near manic eagerness, he'd lifted his eyes to the ceiling in mock anguish, laughed as he called me a fucking wimp, and then grabbed me painfully by my arm and quickly dragged me towards the main study room on the ground floor of our large 22 room estate house.
To me, it was so unreal. Here he was, eagerly ushering me along the great hallway, continually babbling on to me in a hurried yet friendly, even brotherly manner, as if we were close buddies or the like.
In a sense, I couldn't believe it was my brother rushing me down the marble stairs and into the study, wanting me for some obscure reason to share in whatever good fortune had befallen him.
When I entered the room, I instantly noted two new young slaves standing naked in the centre of the room. As required by law, they were in the traditional mandatory slave position, heads bowed low, hands behind their backs; legs spread wide apart and hairless crotches thrust forward to expose their fully erect penises and testicles to everyone in the room.
Straight away I felt uncomfortable, and even a little nervous.
What was Noel up to? He knew I wouldn't be interested in inspecting any new slaves he may have purchased.
As I took in the view and listened to Noel as he commenced explaining the incredible beauty and value of the two new slaves standing before us, I immediately turned my head towards him, a silent plea in my suspicious eyes demanding to know why he had brought me here.
Then I noticed for the first time both my father and our overseer Mr Hendricks, huddled closely together, talking in hushed tones. Then, when my father realised I was also in the room with them, he smiled, tilted his head in that way he has of acknowledging me, and quickly moved forward to commence a more detailed inspection of the two new slaves.
Now I was really confused. My whole family knew I had no real interest in any slave issues that affected our household. Again I tried to get Noel's attention so I could find out what was happening. But as was Noel's nature, he offhandedly ignored my silent gestures, and continued eagerly to highlight the remarkable qualities and youthfulness of the two new slaves.
Sighing heavily, I knew I'd have to wait until Noel had calmed down. I figured I'd probably be here for a while, so I turned my attention back to the slaves.
And as I briefly ran my eyes over them, I suddenly found myself wondering just how much money would have been paid to buy them. Even with my limited knowledge on slave induction, training and standard slave etiquette, I knew immediately these two weren't your average field or house slaves, and they must be worth a fortune.
A cursory glance over their smooth hairless bodies revealed their flawless milky white skin was still unmarked, showing no signs of branding, or any other decorative slave tattooing. This was also a definite sign they must have been recently enslaved.
And then it struck me that slaves this expensive probably wouldn't be joining the ranks of our other well-trained estate slaves. Maybe Noel had bought them as an investment to resell on to make a tidy profit. It was the only logical answer I could think of for their being here in the first place.
Of course I could tell without even seeing the faces of the two new slaves that they must definitely be very good looking.
Then I watched as Noel stepped confidently up in front of the tallest more muscular slave, before turning around to me and impatiently motioning me forward.
"Come on bro. I bought one of these for you too. You can even pick out which one you want. Besides, it's time you discarded that old piece of trash you've had for all these years and got something fresh and young to serve your needs now." Noel stated happily, smiling hugely as he reached down and fondled the large hairless low hanging testicles of the bald headed slave standing before him.
Even though Noel's continued actions of fondling the slave's rock-hard erection and low hanging balls was embarrassing me, I must admit what he'd just said left me in a dizzying state of shock. I shook my head.
Had I heard him right? Had he really gone out and bought one of these slaves for me? Was that what this was all about? Instantly I found myself struggling to believe Noel would do anything bordering on kindness for me.
I even remember after the initial shock had passed and he'd shaken his head to indicate that I had heard him correctly, how I found myself holding back an unexpected welling of tears. Tears made up of renewed brotherly love and pride, an unswerving gratitude towards my big brother Noel.
"It's alright Evan. It's time we started acting like brothers. Time we learnt to get along together. That's why I bought these slaves, so you and I can both proudly show off our newest, most expensive property whenever we go out. What do you say?" Noel said sagely.
My father, half listening in to what Noel was saying, turned around from the slave he was inspecting, and heartily slapped his eldest son on his back.
"I'm proud of you, son. In fact, I'm very pleased to see you acting so maturely by taking on this huge responsibility. I was worried at first when you told me you'd bought these new slaves without my permission, but I'm mightily proud of you for taking the initiative."
Then father turned towards me smiling grandly.
"And Evan, I do hope you'll make me proud too son, by accepting your brother's very generous gift." My father had said in a kind, caring voice, as he stood there gazing at both Noel and me.
Again I was nearly overwhelmed.
It had been such a long time since I'd heard my father talking so affectionately and kindly to me. I couldn't help myself as I eagerly shook my head up and down, while still trying to stop myself from crying with joy.
"Well then, take your pick, bro. Which one do you want?" Noel asked, gently pushing me forward so I stood before the slave he'd just been fondling.
At first I just stood there staring at the two of them.
"Come on, bro. You've got to inspect them properly before you choose one, especially if you intend to bed him down every night from now on." Noel laughed, encouraging me to reach out and feel the enslaved merchandise.
Noel's comments made me turn bright red with embarrassment. And then it hit me. These were pleasure slaves, male sex slaves specifically trained to please and heighten their master's sexual enjoyment!
Like I said earlier on, sex between free citizen men and male slaves was an important and accepted part of our society, so much so it was publicly endorsed and vigorously encouraged as one of the most important and positive ways for an owner to instill his complete dominates over their slave.
And now I was really curious, because these two slaves were unlike any pleasure slaves I'd ever seen advertised on TV or in the glossy sales brochures and catalogues. Nearly all pleasure slaves I'd seen were pierced with large ornate metal studs and ring in every orifice of their bodies, and usually tattooed and marked with elaborate designs so as to emphasise their special sex slave status. These two had none at all.
Shaking my head in confusion I turned my attention back to the one standing before me.
But to be honest, I didn't know what to do. I'd never inspected a slave before and I didn't know what to check for. Also, on a more intimate level, the erect penis on the slave before me was making me feel very inadequate.
To me it was huge, and it made me fully aware of how I've always been very modest about my own nakedness, constantly worrying about the size of my dick and hoping it would eventually grow a lot bigger as I got older.
Fact was I just wasn't hung like Noel, who tended to like showing off his own large seven and a half inch tackle whenever he was in the school gym showers. Also, he had no qualms fondling the genitals of any male slave that grabbed his attention, always wanting to weigh them and measure their length and girth, flaccid and erect, as he tried to ascertain if they would make good breeding stock for our stable of estate slaves.
I know Noel's always had aspirations to enter the corporate slave industry after high school and university, and it was common knowledge on weekends Noel and his close group of friends was always down at the local slave markets checking out any new slaves.
For myself, even though I saw naked slaves all the time, and their nudity meant nothing to me whatsoever, I still found it very hard to reach down and cup and fondle their genitals, as I found it to be very demeaning, especially if other people were watching what I was doing.
Also, I couldn't imagine what the slaves must have thought and felt as they were being inspected!
And this time was no different for me either. In fact, it was even worse than I'd expected, as I was fully aware of my father, the overseer Mr Hendricks and Noel watching intently as I gingerly reached my hand forward.
At first I felt flustered and a little ashamed of how I was reacting, so taking a deep breath to dispel my discomfort, I carefully cupped the young slave's huge plump hairless balls in my palm. The heavy weight of his large hairless scrotum in the small palm of my hand left me feeling a little disoriented, as did the musky, masculine scent that wafted from his naked body, especially from his crotch.
More disconcerting for me was the seven inch length of this young slave's fully erect penis, sticking up nearly vertical to his flat hairless stomach, straining up past his belly button. And as I moved my hand up and stroked the silky length of his rigid youthful manhood with my fingers, I suddenly found my own dick barring up and tenting the front of my pants against my will.
Shame swept through me as I immediately let go and stared at my brother and father red-faced.
"Don't worry bro. It's just a normal human reaction you're having. Happens to the best of us free citizen folk, right Dad?" Noel said with a knowing smile on his face.
My father heartily agreed, also smiling expansively as he explained in detail how having a slave's shaved balls in the palm of your hand can create a natural aphrodisiac affect on any free citizen checking out his or her newest slave.
Suddenly a question struck me. For the entire time the two slaves had been standing before us, they'd each maintained a full blown erection that never seemed to sag or go flaccid at any time as they displayed themselves.
"How do they keep their erections all the time? I mean, it must be really uncomfortable and painful for them to be like this all the time." I asked.
"Good question Evan and one I hope you never repeat in the presence of our womenfolk." My father answered quickly with an amused chuckle.
Then Noel stepped up next to me smiling, actually happy that I was finally taking an interest in something that was probably common knowledge to all free citizens.
"At the back of their necks, injected into their spines, the state-owned slave enforcement authorities have implanted a very tiny micro-chip. As soon as it attaches itself to the inside of the upper spinal column, the micro-chip instantly starts acting like a mini CPU. It then releases thousands of new commands that override all existing brain messages to the musculatory system, effectively taking over the slave's entire body." Noel said excitedly.
"What you then have is total control of your slave and what he does. The micro-chip, designed to the owner's unique specifications will then literally rewire the slave's mind, downloading hundreds of thousands of new audio and visual instructions into the slave's brain. The newly enslaved will know within seconds exactly how to act in his new status as a slave and how to carry out his new duties to the best of his abilities." he continued.
"In effect as soon as any person is enslaved and then micro-chipped, they are instantly transformed into a perfectly obedient, submissive slave. It's what we free citizens term the best combination of our modern slave technology with state-of-the-art science."
"Of course, the micro-chipped slave will always retain their own memories of their past as well as the ability to think for themselves, which admittedly must be very hard for them. Can you even imagine what it must be like to be fully aware of what's happening to you but being unable to control any of your own actions?" Noel said, shaking his head in amazement.
"Anyhow, in essence they have no willpower whatsoever over what they are forced to do, and there's nothing they can do about it but obey their owner's completely. Most importantly though, industry leaders, slave merchants and traders and slave auction venders can now tailor-design their own specialised slaves, specialty slaves that are capable of doing whatever their new duties require of them in their newly entrusted slave positions." Noel rambled on, before turning his attention back to the two young slaves before him.
"Now, whenever these slaves are ordered to assume the mandatory slave position and thrust out their groins for our inspection, the chip automatically sends a powerful electronic impulse to their brains. This instantly releases the necessary neuro-hormones, peptides and proteins required for them to maintain a raging, rock-hard erection. And they'll continue to stay hard until we eventually tell them to relax." Noel explained.
"And don't worry. They don't feel any pain from having an erection for so long, as the micro-chip negates any discomfort they may feel. In fact, it does the exact opposite by keeping them in an extremely high state of arousal at all times. Eventually they'll become so used to getting an erection within seconds of being ordered, that the micro-chip's continued use to keep them aroused will eventually become redundant."
"Also, you can actually refine the commands as well. Just verbally select the pleasure level you want the slave to be set at, and then tell the slave what you want. The micro-chip will instantly kick in and make it happen. Now stand aside a fraction and watch this." Noel said as he pulled me out of the way of the tall young naked slave standing before me.
Then Noel turned back towards the slave, and in a firm commanding voice, he ordered the slave to ejaculate.
In less than a few seconds and as I watched in growing awe, the young slave, with his head still bowed low to his chest, suddenly shook all over uncontrollably. And as every perfectly defined muscle on his body twitched and spasmed, he whimpered and moaned loudly as he thrust his crotch out as far as he could, and ejaculated the largest amount of semen I have ever witnessed in my life.
"See! Pretty cool, don't you think? Also he's still as hard as an iron bar. I could get him to cum continuously over and over again if I wanted him to." Noel smiled wisely as he saw how impressed I was by this little demonstration of total dominance and control.
"Not only that, the micro-chip provides an added bonus of continually stimulating their prostates. This means the slaves will always be receptive and usually begging to be anally penetrated whenever their owners want to use them."
"Thankfully it also makes their anal passages clench and unclench for hours on end, while cleansing out their bowels at the same time. Now slaves don't have to exercise their pleasure holes to keep themselves ultra tight, or constantly have enemas to keep themselves clean. The micro-chip does it automatically for them."
"Also, micro-chipped slaves no longer have to be taken out and exercised on a regular basis. The same process occurs whereby the micro-chip automatically sends out electrical impulses to every muscle fibre in the body. It stimulates them every few seconds so that the slave's muscles maintain their physical shape and appearance without having to undergo strenuous exercising. I've actually seen very unhealthy and obese slaves become slim taut and physically fit in a matter of weeks." Noel added.
"Of course the micro-chip also acts as a GPS locator and neural punishment device. If a slave were ever to consider doing a runner on us, which is unthinkable, we can instantly track him by satellite and find them no matter where he tried to flee to. And if they ever need to be punished, which is also very unlikely, all you have to do is indicate the level of pain you want applied and the micro-chip does the rest."
"Now you know why the government banned the use of all those old primitive style whips and paddles, except for those used in state-sponsored BSDM slave brothels. The old style punishment tools have now been completely phased out in favour of the new micro-chip implants. Again, it's far more effective and doesn't leave a slave's skin damaged and scarred, thereby reducing its resale price." Noel stated.
And then a multitude of questions hit me as I ran my gaze over them.
"Why don't these two slaves have any slave piercings or tattoos? And why haven't they been branded with our family crest and fitted with cock rings and butt-plugs?" I asked in a rush.
Noel looked at me and raised his left eyebrow.
"Evan, there might be hope for you yet! Only kidding, but I must admit, those are some really good questions!" he replied with a voice bordering on grudging respect. Even father and Mr Hendricks were smiling, patiently waiting for Noel to continue.
"Firstly, these two fine youthful specimens standing before you will only ever be used as pleasure slaves. Evan, to have them branded with our family crest, and then pierced and tattooed would automatically result in their current and future market value dropping by more than a half. That's not good!" Noel said, emphasising his point by running the palm of his hand over the smooth hairless chest of the youngest looking slave.
"Secondly, the micro-chips implanted in these two slaves have been electronically configured to identify our family as their rightful owners, and any free citizen who has any doubts about their enslavement or who owns them can use their personalised palm-held slave scanners for confirmation."
"Also, the micro-chip will do a far better job of prominently displaying their genitals when we take them out to show them off in public. I can guarantee you that no permanently fixed metal ring or external gadget secured at the base of their genitals can compete with the micro-chip when it comes to totally controlling and displaying their erections to any free citizen who may wish to inspect them. No cumbersome foreign metallic or ceramic objects to get in the way." my brother continued.
"And lastly, butt-plugs were only ever used by a slave's owner to reduce the incidences of a slave shitting himself at the most inconvenient times. Believe me, it's not a good look if you're at an important high school function, business meeting or traveling long distance, and your slave suddenly needs to take a crap and can't control his bowel movements." Noel said.
"But most important of all Evan! The micro-chip is an all-purpose slave device, specifically designed to make a slave do anything you want, regardless of his own personal feelings or concerns. It will instantly take control of his mind and body in direct response to any set of instructions you require." Noel finished saying expansively, smiling widely at his own words as he looked at me.
"Now why don't you finish off your inspection of these slaves, and make your choice. I'll answer all your other questions later on."
Immediately I returned my attention back to the tall young slave who'd just cum. I realised he must have been around my own age, but he was taller than me by at least five inches. Gingerly I ran my fingers over his amazingly flat washboard stomach, then slid the palm of my hand up to his extraordinarily muscular chest, absently pinching his large pouting nipples as I marveled at how smooth and hairless his skin was.
The other shorter slave still stood in the slave position, head bowed down so low his chin touched his chest, hands held clasped behind his back, and his groin thrust forward as far as he could so his erection jutted out for all to see. For some reason, he looked a lot younger than the one I was inspecting, maybe somewhere around 15 or 16 years of age and about my own height.
Again I couldn't help it when my own dick stiffened rock-hard in my pants, but thankfully this time I had my back to both Noel and my father. There was no way I wanted them to see my pants tenting out again in this most lewd of ways.
The slave in front of me definitely had the biggest cock, but I could see that the youngest slave next to him also had a large thick erect dick with fat hairless balls.
Looking at both their penises, I knew they were definitely bigger than me, and unfortunately, that thought tended to deflate my own ego and my raging erection straight away, as I suddenly felt a wave of inadequacy swamp through me.
Eventually I returned my full attention to the slave standing before me, and as I once again admired this tall young slave's incredibly firm muscular physique, I reached up and lifted his bowed bald head up off his chin.
Yes, he was extraordinarily handsome in a youthful boyish way. His brilliant sad blue eyes looked me in the face, and I knew this was the one for me.
If Noel wanted me to select one, this was the slave I'd choose, also because he definitely reminded me of my high school hero and role-model Brad Cahill.
In my mind, as I suddenly thought about Brad, I began fantasising about sleeping with this slave and pretending it was him.
"Noel, I'd like this one please." I said shyly, my face red with embarrassment as I looked into the gorgeous face of the slave who would now look after all my untapped sexual needs, help Monet dress me and keep my bedroom clean at all times, and then escort me to school everyday.
2.1 Noel Morgan - A Diabolical Plan Decided
(Compiled from the Confidential Testimonies of Noel Morgan)
A lot of people think I needlessly pick on my youngest brother, always heaping unnecessary scorn, ridicule and violence on him in the most cruel and insidious ways possible.
For some reason, they don't appreciate that what I'm doing for Evan is nothing more than trying to get him to be a man. I want him to take responsibility for what he is and who he is, accept that his family legacy demands that he become far more motivated and stop acting like a queer pussy.
If I told you that my constant harassing of Evan has only ever been in his best interest, and that I actually love my brother very much, you'd probably laugh in my face and tell me I'm nothing but a bare-faced liar.
Well, to be honest, I don't give a flying fuck what anyone else thinks, because the reality is, Evan has to one day take his rightful place next to me in our family dynasty.
Evan has to start looking towards his future and start toughening up. The time for him to grow up is now, and I'll do anything to break him out of his pitiful wimpy complacency, so he's ready to help me run the family estate when our father eventually hands over those vast responsibilities to both of us.
So in a way, it was fortuitous the day I was teaching Evan a lesson on how to be a man, trying to get him to stand up for himself against me in front of my friends, that Brad Cahill, that sleazy faggot whore, sidled up behind me and pushed me away from my own brother.
Yeah! I can admit it! I went ballistic. All I could see at that moment were rivers of blood, with this tall blond-haired nancy-girl's dead carcass quickly swept up and carried off to oblivion.
I mean, how dare he interfere and show me up in front of all my friends!
All of a sudden, I found myself swinging my fists as I lunged at him. And then just as quickly, a million starbursts exploded in my head and suddenly the lights went out.
I can't tell you how ashamed I was when I came too seconds later! To find myself covered in dust and dirt, lying on my back as a group of about forty students gathered around me laughed at my complete humiliation at the hands of that fucking faggot-girl.
And as I'd looked over at my brother Evan, I watched in fury as even he tried not to laugh, a smirk raising the corners of his mouth.
It's funny, how in moments like these, the light goes on, and you know what you have to do. It happened to me as I listened red-faced to the laughter and applause that swirled around me.
Within a fraction of a second, I knew it was time to smash the false image erected around Brad Cahill off his self appointed pedestal.
I knew in that instant, it was now time to put an end to the queer's sad belief he was one of us and his interference of my family's affairs as well. But more importantly, I knew it would be Evan who would be instrumental in finally teaching the cunt where his place in society really lay.
With a calmness and clarity of mind that startled me, and keeping my cool, I swatted away with disdain the proffered hand the faggot-girl extended to me as I struggled to lift myself up onto unsteady feet.
And as I walked away, refusing to acknowledge the fucking turd's condescending comments that we should just shake hands and let bygones be bygones, I vowed to myself that within the week, that slut's pussy would be all mine.
Then we'd all see who was laughing.
But what really surprised me was the painful erection I'd suddenly sprouted as I'd stood up and stared with rage into the brilliant blue eyes of my nemesis.
Suddenly I found myself intensely attracted to him. I found myself thinking how extraordinarily good looking he was, marveling at how he even appeared massively powerful in a strange sexual way.
Immediately I shook my head, dispelling the frightening gay-like thoughts from my mind, putting it down to the knock to my head.
Of course, as I walked away feeling confused while at the same time silently cursing the cunt, I had to smile as I don't think people realise just how powerful the Morgan family really is.
Silly when you do think about it, because all you have to do is look up the business editions of the region's local newspapers to find out Morgan Global Industries owns two thirds of the state. My father is reputed to have a net worth of over $28 billion, with both Evan and I sitting comfortably on $2.5 billion each.
So it honesty wasn't all that hard to work out how to deal with cunt-face.
Of course, by the time I got home, back on track and now seething with rage, I not only wanted to destroy the interfering cunt and all he stood for, but his entire family too by this stage. Not all that hard to do either, especially if you've got the right connections and a lot of money.
For me, it only took one phone call, and my scheme was set in motion.
As I'd anticipated, the Federal Internal Tax Office (FITO) suddenly received an anonymous tip-off and began to investigate Sam Cahill, Brad's father, for not having declared an undisclosed amount of income 22 years ago.
By the next morning, charges were drawn up against Cahill senior, charges that would see the old man and his whole family end up enslaved.
But for me, it still wasn't good enough that I had beaten that queer-girl. Once he'd been enslaved, I needed Brad Cahill to know that I was personally involved in his and his family's downfall and destruction.
I needed him to come begging on bended knee before me, admitting to me that he was nothing but a queer girlie-boy, begging to suck my hard uncut cock like the faggot he really is, and for him to do it in front of all my best friends.
So it was decided. Like I've said faggot-girl and his family's arrest and enslavement was so easy to orchestrate. My contact knew what I wanted, and pressed the necessary buttons that would send the Cahill family into a living nightmare.
And once the family was in custody and Sam Cahill had signed the appropriate legal documents, then the State Slave Enforcement Agency would move in and pick up Brad from the school dorm apartment he was staying on campus.
Of course, there were only three conditions I demanded, demands that I was quite happy to pay handsomely for!
Firstly, none of the three Cahill boys was to be physical scarred in any way. These would not be your typical `run of the mill' slaves, so I wanted their skin intact and silky smooth as the day they were born when they were eventually handed over to me. Oh, I didn't mind if they were slapped around and beaten up and bruised a bit, but I did not want their skin cut or disfigured in any way.
Secondly, upon their arrest, I wanted faggot-girl and his two younger brothers to be immediately micro-chipped and then repeatedly raped and gang-banged. I wanted them totally clear headed and aware of what was happening to them, terrified of their predicament, but most importantly, unable to stop their young teenage bodies from responding enthusiastically and eagerly as they were sodomised over and over again.
Thirdly, their whole ordeal, every second of it, was to be video recorded, and the original copies of their arrest, enslavement and slave training sent to me on a daily basis. As for his parents, well, I didn't give a damn what happened to them.
And if all went to plan, it would be faggot-girl who would come to me on his knees, begging and pleading for me to help him and his brothers from the nightmare they were enmeshed in. Then I would make sure he suffered untold mental and physical anguish as I plucked the last vestiges of his young proud teenage masculinity from him.
Now I ask you? Have you ever watched any of those late-night cable TV channels that show reality cop and law enforcement programs all night long?
If you have, you can imagine such a raid being carried out against the Cahill residence late one winter's night. Although Brad was staying at the high school student dorm campus that evening, it was fun to watch video footage of the rest of his family; his parents and two brothers, bleary eyed and terrified, confronted by 40 armed police and FITO agents.
Video footage of Sam Cahill and his wife bundled out of their cozy warm beds, stripped naked, handcuffed with their hands behind their backs, gagged and blinkered, with small electronic plugs inserted deep in their ears to remove all surrounding auditory sounds, as they were quickly frog marched out to a waiting armoured police van, where they were thrown in the back and taken away for interrogation.
More exciting was the incredible close up footage of the two young teenage brothers blubbering and wailing as they were dragged out of the bedroom they shared by 20 armed agents, their pajamas and skimpy jockey brief underwear painfully ripped off their young firm youthful teenage bodies.
And as they wept and tried to cover their shameful nakedness with their trembling hands, the full frame video captures zeroing in as the petrified boys were roughly thrown onto their stomachs on the carpeted floor of their small lounge room, where the team leader of the heavily armed police and FITO agents carefully injected the slave microchips into the back of their spines.
I can tell you the only existing video, which I own, is absolutely fascinating viewing. Especially as the armed men grabbed the boys' legs and arms, pulled them apart and held them spread-eagled as each uniformed man took their time brutally sodomising them over and over again.
Back then I remember viewing it for the first time, and at some point as August was sucking me off I thrilled at the scene of the two naked sobbing brothers suddenly falling silent, completely confused and horrified that their bodies were now vigorously responding to the vicious anal and oral rapes they were being subjected to.
And when the men had finally finished, how the shocked and stunned boys were wrenched up onto their feet to be hurried along on the tips of their toes with three very thick latex-covered probing fingers shoved all the way up their severely stretched cum-filled rectums into a waiting police vehicle. It was then that I decided I wanted to own them as well as their big brother, faggot-girl.
How my mind leapt with hideous joy as I began to fantasise about all the erotically juicy things I could do to them once they were in my clutches, how I could use the two younger brothers to completely break faggot-girl's will once and for all.
Again, it's strange to remember just how quickly events moved back then.
It had taken me only one afternoon from the time queer-girl had punched me in the face and knocked me flat on my back, to have my contact get the ball rolling.
And by late Thursday evening and the following Friday morning, the whole family had been arrested, brought before the courts and each family member condemned to the maximum penalty of `slavery for life'.
It just goes to show you how powerful the Morgan family name is here in New Texico and what enough money thrown around can really buy.
Both the parents, of no value whatsoever to anyone, were immediately sold after their interrogation and enslavement to a large bauxite mining outfit, where they would probably live out the remainder of their now severely reduced mortal existence. For all anyone knows, they're probably dead now and good riddance.
And then there was faggot-girl and his two brothers?
I immediately offered an astronomical figure to purchase them straight away, an amount which the courts found to be more than generous.
Within two hours they were legally mine, and as had been arranged with the courts approval, my three new slaves were immediately transported to the state-owned `Regional Slave Induction and Training Facility'. Known as one of the state's most progressive slave training centres in the country, they publicly guaranteed immediate results within seven days, or your money returned.
There my new slaves would undergo a four week intensive slave training program that would break their wills and their minds in preparation for their next ordeal, which was to be delivered to their new master - me.
I know it sounds so harsh, especially since the micro-chipping actually makes slave training unnecessary. But the truth is, micro-chipping doesn't take away free will, or make a slave completely loyal and obedient to their owners.
Oh, they do what they're told and do it very well, but all slave owners want their property to truly understand the importance of servicing their masters with unwavering obedience.
And that's what I wanted for Brad. Fact is I wanted faggot-girl's very spirit completely broken before he was handed over to me. I wanted him cowering at my feet, knowing he was my slave and I had beaten him, and that his very existence depended on my good will.
But a week before they would eventually be handed back to me, I wanted to see them at the Slave Training Centre.
It was important I gauged their initial reaction to me, especially queer-girl's, so I could then lay the foundations whereby Evan would assist me in making Brad into nothing more than a broken down useless gay pleasure slave, and for faggot-girl to help me in directing Evan down a future path I needed him to travel.
To Be Continued...
(If you liked the story, please send feedback to mickmack999@yahoo.com.au)