What They Did to Julian Part Eight of Several Parts By Randall Austin
This story is erotic fiction meant for mature readers and should only be read by adults over the age of eighteen years old. Please do not use my stories without my permission and please forward all comments to randallaustin2011@hotmail.com
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After talking with Granger on his return from the Baldwin/Fletcher Farms, Jack returned to his dorm room, slipped into a pair of gym shorts and a tee shirt, and poured himself a beer. Jack was the lightest drinker of his group of friends, and almost never drank alone, but he was seriously saddened and upset by the fact that Granger had failed to get any evidence of an entrapment attempt by the Baldwin brothers on his trip to the Baldwin/Fletcher farms in Fresno, California.
Granger reported to Jack that nothing unusual had happened to him, and he was not lured into doing something that could get him into trouble. His strongest impression of his trip to Fresno was Arnold Baldwin's exceptional hospitality.
Jack went to his computer and looked through his photo album as he sipped his beer and rubbed his hand over his short, well trimmed, beard.
When a photo of himself posed with Julian, Lloyd, Casey, Granger, and Sam appeared, a tear fell from his eye.
As Jack looked at the photos he wondered why no attempt was made to entrap Granger. When Granger wrote to Arnold Baldwin about wanting to visit the Farms, Arnold replied generously, offering to pick him up at the airport along with free lodging at the Baldwin/Fletcher Park Hotel.
Jack was the oldest of the group of friends; he was a junior in high school while Julian, Casey, and Lloyd, were freshmen. The four quickly bonded as top athletes often do, and remained close friends after Jack entered college.
A close-up shot of Julian appeared in his photo album, shot while he was taking a rest during a football practice session. Jack took to Julian as a close friend not just because he was one of the top rated high school athletes in the country, but because he also happened to be one of the nicest people he had ever met.
Several photos of Casey appeared. Casey, the wildest one of the bunch, the one who more frequently than the others was not afraid to flaunt authority and taboos.
When photos of Lloyd came up, with his lady-killing dimples, Jack smiled as he recalled the good times. Lloyd was the one most concerned about being dutiful, about being an upstanding son and citizen, who always did things as his parents, coaches, teachers, and society, wanted things to be done.
A photo of Jack himself appeared, before he had grown his beard, which he grew once he started his sophomore year in college in an effort to appear more mature and manly. Jack admired his high school graduation photo. While Julian, Casey, Lloyd, and Jack, were all especially good looking and well built, Jack felt, without ever voicing it, that he was the 2nd best looking of the bunch after Julian.
Unexpectedly a photo of Granger popped up, and almost immediately Jack snapped out of his glum mood. He thought, suddenly, he just might know the reason for Granger's failed expedition to Fresno.
Jack frantically searched for a photo that was one of his favorites, a photo of Julian and himself, each shirtless, smiling into the camera with their arms around each other's shoulders.
With very little planning Jack dashed off a note to Arnold Baldwin: "Dear Mr. Baldwin. My friend Granger just returned from his visit to the Farms, and he had such a wonderful time, and told me of your gracious hospitality, that he made me want to visit my friends and the Theme Park as well. I thought this weekend would be a perfect time for me to visit, as I have off from my weekend job because of the upcoming holiday. I am wondering if you could suggest some reasonable hotels in the area (if there are any such things). I have attached a photo of Julian and myself that you might enjoy, as it shows you a younger Julian. It was taken when I was a senior in high school and Julian was just a little sophomore dude. Thanks for your generosity to Granger, and for any help you can give me about Fresno hotels."
Jack was just about finished with his second bottle of beer when his email program alerted him. A message arrived from Arnold Baldwin thanking him for the photo, along with an offer to pick him up at the airport and free lodging at the Baldwin/Fletcher Park Hotel.
Jack felt like dancing, but instead he made his way into the bathroom and started to carefully shave off his beard.
On Lloyd's third day of one-on-one training with Dunn Akers, Arnold Baldwin's lead servitor trainer, Lloyd almost had a smile on his face. During his first supervised exercise session with Dunn, Lloyd had been given a jockstrap to wear. Being able to wear a jockstrap felt, to the young athlete, like old times. It almost felt like being clothed.
When the exercise session was over, Dunn led Lloyd back to his training quarters. Lloyd was concerned about what he saw. A cart with all kinds of either strange or frightening things was in the room. It was not in the room on the previous two days. Lloyd looked at the cart apprehensively. The things that Lloyd recognized were various types of whips and paddles.
Dunn instructed Lloyd, "You can remove your jockstrap now."
Lloyd spoke in a voice that Dunn, by this time, knew very well; it was a voice that sounded like it would break out crying at any moment; "You're not going to use that stuff on me are you? Please sir, Mr. Akers, I didn't do anything wrong! Please don't hurt me!"
Dunn reassured Lloyd, "Nothing is going to happen to you; you didn't do anything wrong."
Lloyd had a frantic look on his face, "Then it's true the stuff I've heard. You whip slaves even if they don't do anything wrong!"
Dunn shook his head, "Lloyd, you need to calm down. I want you to remove your jockstrap and I'll answer your questions."
As Lloyd removed his jockstrap, he sobbed, "Oh please man, sir, Mr. Akers, kind sir, please don't give me a spanking or a whipping. Please!"
Once Lloyd was naked, he covered his privates. Dunn went up to him and hugged him. "Let me tell you all about whips and paddles and some of these other devices. They are not as bad as you think, and you will never get whipped or paddled for no reason."
Being held comforted Lloyd, and like a frightened child he voiced his worst fears, "Slaves are tied to frames and bull whipped."
Dunn let out a laugh, "If you ever did anything that required such a punishment, such as an act of violence against someone, we wouldn't waste our time whipping you. We'd simply sell you."
The possibility of being sold was just another horror in the life of a slave that Lloyd had not previously thought about, and he blurted out, "Who would you sell us to?"
The conversation was getting off topic, but Dunn obliged Lloyd with an answer, "Various armies, such as those of South Africa, Israel, and Angola, are willing to pay top dollar for slaves such as we utilize here at the Farms."
Lloyd was terrorized at the possibility of someone like himself being used by foreign armies, "Why would they want me? What would they use me for? What are they going to do to me?"
Dunn patted Lloyd on the back like one would do to a frightened child. The hugs and constant nudity were all part of the Baldwin/Fletcher servitor formation and resexualization training of field slaves, so Dunn hugged Lloyd more tightly as he answered, "Calm down little fella! We are not going to be selling you, I am pretty confident, so they won't be doing anything to you. Foreign armies often use boys such as you for dangerous espionage work; but if you don't work out, they use you on the front lines."
Even though Dunn's response only increased Lloyd's anxiety about his new existence, Dunn continued with answering Lloyd's original question, "We do not use whips and paddles to change personalities. You are here because we like you the way you are. The whips on this cart are simply training whips. They are similar to a private gym trainer. Gym trainers urge you to go to your limits. We use these whips to occasionally motivate you to get your body up to peak performance."
"The kinds of whippings you fear simply do not take place. Yes, we use corporal punishment for certain infractions, such as if a trainer has to ask you more than once to do something. But they are no more severe than the kind of paddlings you might have gotten from your coach."
"My coach never paddled me. I have never been spanked in my life. I always do what I am told. My mom and dad always told me I was the best behaved of all my siblings."
"That's good to hear!" Dunn kept patting Lloyd on the back as he continued to hug him tightly against himself.
After a couple of minutes Dunn let go of Lloyd, walked over to the implements cart, and selected a cuff type device with a retractable leash and a long handled training whip. He walked towards Lloyd and told him to spread his legs. Lloyd asked, "What is that thing?"
"It's a scrotal choke cuff attached to a leash."
"What are you going to do to me?"
"I'm going to put this on you and we're going to do some marching exercises. When we change shifts out in the fields, the various teams march on and off the field. The changing of the field teams is one of the highlights of the day for spectators. I'm going to teach you the proper way to march."
"You're going to leash me like an animal?"
"It's simply an effective way for me to regulate your pace and distance as you learn your march steps. If you get too far out of the path the cuff acts like a choke collar and gives your balls a little squeeze. It is just a quick way to learn the steps."
"What's that whip for?
"While you're marching I'll use this whip to fleck you on the shoulder to remind you of things if you get out of formation, things such as if you aren't holding your head up high enough, if you're not bringing your knees up high enough with each step, if you're not moving fast enough, and so on."
Dunn set the whip down and reached for Lloyd's balls to attach the cuff. Lloyd backed away, "You can't go cuffing me by the balls like I'm some animal."
Dunn was firm, "Get back here! This is not going to hurt."
Lloyd's frantic voice, the one that sounded like it was near to tears, returned, "You can't treat me this way. I'm a human being. I'm a top student, an honors graduate! My brothers look up to me! They can't see me like this!"
Dunn went up to Lloyd and reached for his balls, "Your brothers are not here, so they won't see this!"
Lloyd backed away again and Dunn ordered, "Get over here, now, or it will be a spanking for you!"
Lloyd moaned, "Oh gawd, no, please Mr. Akers!"
"Then get over here!" There was no response from Lloyd, so Dunn set the cuff down, went up to Lloyd, and tried to guide him to a chair. Lloyd resisted, so Dunn took him by force.
Lloyd was a strong and fit young athlete, but he was no match for the head Baldwin/Fletcher trainer, who sat in the chair and had the naked Lloyd pulled over his lap in no time. Dunn immediately started to whack away at the young footballer's butt globes with the `hairbrush paddle', a paddle shaped and weighted like a large hairbrush, and which is universally regarded by professional disciplinarians as the paddle capable of delivering the most serious sting of any paddle ever designed.
Lloyd immediately began to scream, buck, and howl. But he also did something else; something that Dunn had never before heard from a new slave getting his first dose of corporal punishment; through his screaming, howling, and sniffling, Lloyd began to plead with Dunn, "Mr. Akers, please don't tell anyone about this."
The paddling lasted only about two minutes, and it was as severe a paddling as could be delivered without abrading flesh. Professional that Dunn was, he kept the swats focused on a very limited area of Lloyd's buttocks, thus causing maximum pain with a paddle style designed to deliver maximum sting.
When it was over, Lloyd rolled off Dunn's lap onto the floor, and continued his plea as he cried like a baby, "Please Mr. Akers, sir, please. Don't tell anyone about this. Please don't tell anyone what you just did do to me!"
Dunn understood Lloyd's concerned, but explained, "I'm sorry, but I have to write up a report on any corporal punishment session."
Lloyd continued his bawling, as pleaded through sniffles, "I don't mean that. Please sir, don't tell any of my family or friends what you had to do to me. Please! If anyone ever found out that I had to get a spanking like a little kid, I would die. Please sir."
Dunn understood very well what the proud, young, footballer and ace student, was going through. His pride had been paddled away from him, and he no longer knew how he could regain his dignity.
Lloyd wondered, still sniffling, "Did Casey and Julian have to get spanked like this, sir? Were they treated like little boys, pulled over your lap, and spanked naked?"
Dunn answered like the professional handler that he was, "Just as you want privacy on this matter, so I respect the privacy of your friends. If you want to know the answer to your question, you can ask Casey and Julian for yourself, once your initial first two months of training are completed, and you begin training and living with the rest of the herd."
Dunn felt for the new trainee. He knew that Lloyd's entire world, identity, sense of self, sense of worth, and understanding of existence, had been humiliated away through the bare naked paddling he had just given him.
From Dunn's perspective, the spanking was a huge success, for it gave a new perspective to Lloyd that Lloyd seemed to understand. But Dunn nevertheless felt sorry for Lloyd, as he did for all the boys he had to break. He knelt down and hugged Lloyd, and Lloyd, lost and frantic, responded by hugging his trainer back.
Dunn whispered, "I am so sorry I had to do that." Hugging Lloyd with his left arm, Dunn reached down with his right hand and clasped Lloyd's balls. He tugged gently on them as he spoke quietly, "Everything is going to be alright. You're a good boy and we're all so proud of you."
Dunn's whispering comforted the by now desperately lost Lloyd. While gently clasping and tugging on Lloyd's teen footballer sack, he used his middle finger to gently massage Lloyd's perineum. It had the effect of making Lloyd's cock, already plump from the spanking, start to erect.
Dunn found Lloyd's hole with his middle finger and began to gently push it in and out while still gently tugging and massaging Lloyd's balls. Dunn continued speaking in a comforting voice, "You know what? If you're like several of the field boys, this could very well be the only spanking you will ever have to receive."
Lloyd whispered a question, "Really?" as his teen footballer cock seeped a drop of precum.
Dunn was elated, for he had just taken Lloyd to the first step in getting over his free-boy inhibitions. Dunn, a bisexual, would have liked as much as any homo to go down on the hunky and handsome young footballer's cock, but he was a professional, and whispered, "Come on big fella. Why don't we have a little fun? I want you to prance in circles for me as I teach you how to do some marching steps. It'll be lots of fun."
Dunn helped Lloyd to his feet and Lloyd was like a curious little boy as Dunn fitted the choke collar about his balls. He attached the leash to the collar and tried to ease Lloyd's concern over the fearsome looking training whip that he picked up, "Now don't you be afraid of this. This is only to touch you a bit to guide you. This is a fun march step I'm going to teach you and all of the boys love it. It's most of the field boys' favorite march step, and the crowds love it as well."
Lloyd was no longer afraid as he had been, and his shame at being naked and ball cuffed and guided by a whip were as nothing compared to the humiliating paddling he had just received.
Dunn proceeded gently, pleased that for Lloyd the learning of the march step was now more like some crazy fun thing he was trying out, rather than a demeaning slave training session. In fact, Dunn sensed that Lloyd was beginning to see him as his coach, and wanted to please him, in the same way that Lloyd always wanted to please his coaches in high school.
As Lloyd marched in circles around Dunn, with Dunn holding on to the leash attached to Lloyd's balls, as he occasionally flecked the new indentee's back and legs with the whip, Lloyd seemed to be having fun as he tried to follow Dunn's instructions.
It was all a testament to Dunn Aker's skill as a servitor trainer; just moments ago Lloyd was a big egoed football hero, too proud to be naked and controlled like an animal. Now he was a jogging, high stepping, whip-controlled servitor, proudly obeying orders as he jogged and marched around in circles; with his choke-collared balls leashed, and his erected cock bouncing and sloshing off precum.
The morning business meeting between Retcher Baldwin, President of Baldwin/Fletcher Family Farms, and his brother, Arnold, Vice President of the farms, was always an informal affair, where the brothers shared morning coffee and info about their previous evening's escapades before getting down to business.
Retcher took care of the business end of running the theme park, while Arnold tended toward the handling of all personnel matters.
Retcher cut short the informal morning banter, "Sorry Arnold, but we've got a lot to cover and I have to meet with the construction people this afternoon."
Retcher took out a sheet of paper and handed it to Arnold, "So I think we've agreed on going ahead with the `milking' attraction?"
Arnold nodded his head in agreement as he perused the sheet.
Retcher continued, "I think we've agreed to put it in visitor sector four, as that's where we highlight the day to day activities of the field boys and show a little of how the field boys actually live when they're not working in the fields. It's been a successful sector of the park, and gives our park attendees an honest presentation of the humane treatment our slaves receive here while in service at Baldwin/Fletcher Farms."
"The sheet I gave you shows the estimates on the construction costs of the `milking station'. I like your idea of having only one boy at a time getting milked, with a milking taking place once every two hours. We know it will be a popular attraction and visitors will pay top price for the ticket. By having only six milkings throughout the day it will be an event that's certain to sell out months in advance. By keeping tickets to the milkings rather difficult to obtain, it will help generate audience curiosity, drum up major new business for us, and we can price the tickets so that they are by far the most expensive attraction here at the Farms!"
"If you could look over the costs and let me know if you have any changes or suggestions by noon, that would be great."
As Arnold scribbled some notes on the cost sheets, Retcher dove into the next topic, "We got some more letters from some religious groups who are complaining about the way we name slaves. It seems that the name we gave Julian Raider is what called attention to our naming practices, because he made the national headlines.
Arnold shook his head, irritated, "Jezzzusfukincrisss, don't these yahoos have anything better to do with their time?"
Retcher held out his hand, "Hold on there, Arnold, these people are our attendees who, for the most part, support the concept of our theme park and are likely to revisit. You know how they are, simple religious types, fundamentalists; to them slavery is a good thing, it's in the bible and all that."
"It seems they love the idea of introducing slavery to their students by using our theme park, and they have no problem with any of it, except that when they bring the kids here the young ones all end up asking about the various names of the slaves, such as Poopee, Spurtz, Jizzy, Creamer, Farty, Licker, and so on. Their objections seem to be not that we give our slaves fanciful names, but that the names we do give them are rather raunchy."
"So think about this; we stop using such names, make a public announcement about our new naming policy, and we win big with not only the religious types, but also with those who are critical of our theme park. It will both show the world that we're enlightened slavers, and can only have the effect of increasing attendance."
Arnold nodded in agreement, "I see your point. If we go with getting rid of the raunchy names, what kinds of names do you suggest we use?"
Retcher had an answer, "We let the slaves choose their own names! We let them use their real names if they'd like. It would show in a dramatic fashion how enlightened we are, and whatever name Julian chooses for himself, it is certain to get us back into the national limelight!"
Arnold smiled, "I like it, Retch. Great idea!"
Retcher thanked Arnold for his support, and moved on to the next topic, "So, you emailed me about another one of Julian's friends coming out here?"
Arnold nodded with a smile, "Oh yeah!"
Retcher smiled, and shook his head, "Oh dear. Let's hope he's not like the last one they sent out, that kid with the funny name."
Arnold smiled, "Granger. Hey, don't blame me. I didn't know what he looked like, but I figured since Julian, Lloyd, and Casey were all prime specimens, this kid would be too! I didn't know he was tall, awkward, and gangly."
"So who's coming out this time?"
"His name is Jack. Here, take a look." Arnold handed Retcher a printout of the photo Jack had sent him of Jack and Julian with their arms around each other, bare chested in the sun, both smiling into the camera.
Retcher's eyes grew big, "Wow! He's even better looking than Lloyd, and almost as hot as Julian!"
Arnold smiled as he watched Retcher nod in appreciation at the photo.
Retcher gave a warning, "You better be careful. It looks to me like these guys are operating with a plan. This one is probably coming with a hidden camera."
Arnold stood up, "Oh, I'm sure he will be. Granger was already armed with one of those lapel cams. But you know that you don't have to worry about such things. Since I suspected that Granger and his pals were already suspicious, I was already prepared to go into `plan b' for Granger; but, of course, once I picked Granger up at the airport, I knew I wouldn't be trying to entice him into our fold."
As Arnold prepared to exit, Retcher gave him a smile, "Good luck dealing with Jack! He sure would be a nice addition to the manure pits!"
Lloyd and Casey, along with two other Baldwin/Fletcher servitors in training, were given full body shaves, their hair was mohawked, and they were bathed in a special solution. Once their bath was completed, they were collected by an overseer and led to a special processing room.
When they entered the room they knew it was the dyeing room, for there was a large vat of a heated solution, and an overhead network of trolleys and pulleys connected to special seats that the boys sit in when they are soaking in the dye.
Two technicians in white coats, and two overseers, directed the boys to each take a seat in one of the special seats that were each connected by cords to an overhead trolley.
All four servitors were somber at the prospect of getting dyed, but Lloyd was more than somber, he was terrified. Lloyd did not move when asked to take a seat. The technicians looked curiously at Lloyd, and proceeded to strap Casey and the two other servitors into their seats.
One of the technicians again told Lloyd to take a seat, and in a trembling voice Lloyd called out, "You can't do this to me. This is not right!"
Lloyd did not move, but only frowned as tears rolled down his cheeks. One of the technicians went up to Lloyd and gently tried to lead him to a seat, but Lloyd backed away as he began to cry, "No. This can't happen."
The technician looked at one of the overseers, who approached Lloyd, "Come on boy. This isn't going to hurt."
Lloyd looked for a way to get away, but the overseer moved quickly on him, put his arms about his waist, and was able to move the struggling Lloyd to a seat, "Come on boy, you're getting dyed whether you like it or not! We have to dye your body so it looks good as you work in the manure pits."
It took a second overseer to hold Lloyd in the seat as the first overseer strapped him into the seat. Lloyd began bawling, "No, no. Please don't do this to me. This can't be happening. I am not an animal. Please, please, let me go!"
As they strapped Lloyd down one of the overseers tried to comfort him, "We're just gonna put a little color on you. You will look stunning!"
Once Lloyd was secured, one of the technicians tended to the controls that ran the seats, and slowly the seats, with the four servitors strapped in, began to rise.
Lloyd could only continue sobbing as his chair, along with the other three servitors, slowly began to rise. He wondered why some technicians should have the right to do such a thing to him. How come he had to get dyed and they did not? How come they were free and he was not?
The four chairs moved over the vat containing the dyeing solution, and slowly the chairs began lowering with the new field workers into the heated solution.
The servitors were lowered into the vat so the solution covered just their shoulders. As one of the technicians went up to the sobbing Lloyd and began drying his face of his tears, he explained what they would be doing, "For your neck, face, and head, we will be applying a dyeing paste."
While the first technician began painting Lloyd's face with the paste, the second technician applied the paste to Casey's head and neck. Lloyd liked the technicians, for they seemed neat and polite, just the way he was. He wanted the technicians to know that he wasn't just some dumb athlete, but that he was also a top student. He wanted the technicians to respect him, to know that he was smart.
Lloyd wanted to be a respectable member of society whom people looked up to and respected; it was all he ever wanted. He wanted to be a neatly dressed gentleman with well-styled hair, and smell good, just like the technician who was applying the dyeing paste to his neck, face, and head. He wanted his friends and family to look up to him.
But Lloyd knew that he was now not like the technician gently working on his face. He would now be, for the next ten years of his life, a naked slave laborer. But not just an ordinary slave laborer; he would be, in fact, a dyed, mohawked, ringed, belled, befrilled, spangled, feathered, butt plugged, high stepping, whip-controlled, human pack animal.
And every day of every year he would be kept nude and fully exposed, on display for all of the good folks visiting the Baldwin/Fletcher Farms.
To be continued...
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