Date: Thu, 24 May 2007 23:23:36 -0700 (PDT)
From: Steam Train <steam_t2007@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Control Testimonials  Part 7  A Response

The Control Testimonials -- Part 7: A Response
By Steam Train    (steam_t2007@yahoo.com)



Dr. Milos Learner,
Acting Chairman,
National Supervising Committee,
`Taking Back Control'


Dear Dr. Learner,

I have recently, like many hundreds of thousands of
other citizens read Appendix Three of the First Annual
Report onTaking Back Control. Because of my age my
parents would probably not approve if they knew I had
read Appendix Three, but some High School Seniors who
my older sister is friendly with had a copy and she
borrowed it to read and I borrowed it from her!

I know that an annual report is legally required by
the Taking Back Control amendments to the Federal
Juvenile Deterrence Act, but I felt compelled to write
to you as the current Acting Chairman of the National
Supervising Committee of `Taking Back Control as I too
am one of the people affected by the initiative and
wanted to tell your committee how great it was to be
able to read such a wide cross section of testimonials
with such a wide variety of reactions to Taking Back
Control with an equally amazing cross section of ages,
sex and involvement,

Reading Appendix Three made me realise that I was not
alone in my humiliation, embarrassment and suffering.

I can understand why your report and appendix three in
particular has found its way onto the literary best
seller lists. Everyone enjoys a good arousing story
(don't tell my parents I said that) and when you know
it is all true and happening right now, out there in
this great country of ours it makes the reading of all
the testimonials all the more enjoyable.

I am 12 years old and a 7th grade student at Bitter
Springs Junior High. In our school district, junior
high's start with 7th grade, so I had only just
started at my new school when Taking Back Control came
into force. Now Victoria County where I reside, is in
the warmer south of our great country and because of
it's year round warm temperature, it was one of those
counties that from the inauguration of Taking Back
Control bought in an ordinance, that required all boys
aged between 3 and 17, to be nude at all times. The
girls were exempted as only the male juvenile
population was deemed to be causing concern in
relation to unacceptable attitude, aggressive
behavior, bullying and excessive modesty.

Having read all the other testimonials, I also wanted
to write and tell you how Taking Back Control was
different for me in two main ways from many of the
testimonials in the report.

One was touched on by one or two of the published
testimonials but not by many; that was being made to
strip naked and remain that way in front of our family
slaves, the other was being much more developed than
my peers. This second reason was not highlighted by
anyone in the published testimonials.

I was amazed that my daddy so openly and
enthusiastically embraced all aspects of `Taking Back
Control'. I was bought up by my family to believe
nakedness is what separates a free citizen from a
slave; now I am forced to go about as naked as the
slaves who work the coffles on my daddies' plantation.
The only difference between them and me now, is that
they are collared and branded, yet my daddy could not
see why I was so upset about having to strip naked
like one of his slaves.

When I complained to him that I felt like I was being
treated like a slave, he just went on and on about the
end of the concept of 'private parts' and how the
Bible tells us that God made us in his image and
likeness and that if this was so, why should I at my
age be so modest about showing the world what god gave
me?

When I argued that if it was ok for juvenile males to
be naked why was it not ok for adults, he lectured me
that when you are still a juvenile male, young and
impressionable and capable of being molded to achieve
the best social and moral behaviour there is no good
reason why I should not be made naked! Adult
citizenship however, daddy said comes with the burdens
of responsibility that set free citizens apart from
those in servitude, and there is a need to clearly
differentiate the status between the free citizen and
the slave by the wearing of clothes.

We all know a slave has no need of modesty, that they
are there to serve their masters and the wearing of a
slave collar, their symbol of slave status is all they
need to wear. However daddy said a free citizen in
their adult years like my mummy and daddy needs to
wear clothes to symbolize that they are free and
responsible citizens.

Daddy said his adult modesty is the result of his
being a free adult citizen whereas I as a juvenile
should not be forced into such adult modesty and
behaviour before it is required.

My daddy told me that he agreed with Taking Back
Control when it said modesty before it's time is
detrimental to the male juvenile and that he fully
supported our counties decision to take back control
and banish the false modesty of all the local juvenile
males by adopting the `All boys aged between 3 and 17
must be naked' ordinance.

Now no slave of my daddy's would dare look at me
directly, whether I was dressed or naked, all our
slaves fear me, their young master almost as much as
they do daddy. They keep their eyes lowered as a slave
should to a free citizen, but that does nothing to
hide my naked demoted state from them.

Of course it is not just the act of being naked in
front of daddy's slaves that is humiliating and
degrading. Whether my penis is shrunken or erect, I
can no longer hide any secrets from my family or
friends. All the girls and boys at school know when I
am erect, there is no where to hide. I found this a
very hard reality to suffer.

The county ordinance requiring all boys aged between 3
and 17, to be nude at all times was to come into
effect at noon on a Sunday. My father had informed me
some days before that date that he planned to organize
my undressing as a private family affair. I was
thankful for this as some of my friends were petrified
of the upcoming Sunday as their parents were planning
on revealing them at much more public functions.

Jimmy Kruger and Bobby Masters were being made to
attend the group stripping on stage at the local
community hall at noon, in front of an audience of
parents and female siblings. Trevor Reynolds was going
to be stripped at a family BBQ along with his other
male cousins and Tommy Burns and David Daniels were
attending a neighbourhood BBQ and stripping at a
neighbour's plantation.

In my case on the day in question we entered daddy's
study as soon as we returned from the Sunday church
service. I expected only my mummy and my older sister
Veronica who is 16 years old to be present apart from
daddy, but to my horror two of daddy's personal slaves
were waiting in the study for us. When I objected to
their presence, daddy dismissed my concerns with the
comment that the two slaves acted as his body servants
and if they were good enough to see him naked they
were certainly good enough for me.

My family all took positions in the high backed
leather lounge chairs that faced daddy's large antique
desk. Daddy is tall and slim with cropped dark hair
thinning on top and graying at his temples. His face
is tanned and well lined, and dominated by a strong
nose and a thin, jutting chin. He speaks with a
gentleman's southern drawl.

Daddy was dressed in his Sunday church clothes,
wearing one of his white linen summer suits with a
subdued striped shirt, but gaily colored suspenders,
white shoes and socks. He was wearing the local
gentlemen's club tie around his neck and a red silk
bandanna as his pocket handkerchief. He had left his
panama hat with the door slave. Mummy and Veronica
were like wise dressed in their best white summer
dresses with tasteful but suppressed jewelry as
befitted respectful church attire.

I went to sit down with my family but daddy beckoned
me not to sit with them but to stand before them. He
looked at his fob watch and asked me in a very
deliberate clinical voice, "Richard, it is time now
time for you to undress so as to conform to the new
county law. Be quick about it and let's have no
shyness, excessive modesty or silly juvenile behaviour
unbefitting your status as my son and heir."

I had heard daddy use this same tone of voice with new
slaves he had purchased. Making them shack their
clothes in front of him so he could inspect his
purchase thoroughly. I felt just like one of daddy's
new slaves who had just been ordered to strip, not his
12 year old son. By the tone of his voice, I half
expected daddy to begin treating me like one of these
new slaves that I had often watched daddy process.

Daddy is always self assured and has that breezy
confidence so common in men who are masters. After
daddy has had the new slave branded, shaved, and his
ID chip installed, they are always bought before their
new master, my daddy. This was just how I felt at that
time, standing before daddy and my family.

All the new slaves are taught from this very first
meeting with daddy that their life has changed, I had
the same feeling. They nearly all have that excessive
and unctuous manner of a new slave who is trying to
hide his fear, I was certainly fearful of what was
about to happen too. Daddy has often told me that it
never ceases to amaze him how quickly former free
citizens become slaves, fear he says is the key to it.
Daddy says, strip them, spank them, put a collar on
them, inspect every intimate crevice of their bodies
and you are well on the way to having created an
obedient fearful new slave. I felt like Taking Back
Control was trying to do the same thing to me!

Because we had just returned from the Sunday church
service I was still dressed in my tailored white
summer suit, silk tie, pale blue silk shirt, socks and
white shoes. My often unruly hair was on this occasion
neatly combed.

Whilst daddy was asking me to remove all my clothing,
one of daddy's two slaves who were present in the room
came forward holding a wicker basket and the second
slave followed closely behind.

Veronica leant over towards my mother and I could hear
hushed whispering between my sister and mummy but I
could not make out what they were smiling about as I
removed my suit jacket and handed it to the second
slave, who carefully folded it before he placed it
into the basket being held by his fellow slave.

As I started to untie my tie, I began to panic and
stopped undressing, looking first at my daddy then my
mummy for some support, I guess hoping for some
miraculous turn of events that would allow me to stay
dressed. I received no such reprieve, only a look of
disappointment from my mummy and a look of reproach
from daddy.

I could not go on undressing in front of everyone; it
was just so humiliating and degrading. I had not been
naked in front of my parents since I was a little boy;
in fact I had no recollection of it ever occurring it
was so long ago. My slave nanny used to wash and dress
me till I was ten, but since then I have dressed and
washed myself, declining daddy's offer of a personal
slave to assist me in such matters.

I dropped my hands, and to my everlasting shame I
started to cry, right there in front of my daddy, my
family and the slaves. I tried to hide my face from
daddy as I knew he would be ashamed of me, his son and
heir behaving like a little boy, but daddy saw, he
always does!

Daddy said nothing but he was very annoyed at me, I
could tell. I had shamed him. He motioned to his
slaves and the second slave came forward and finished
untying my tie, and removed it. He then started
unbuttoning my silk shirt. When it was unbuttoned, I
was so shamed at my childlike behaviour that I forced
myself to gain a measure of composure. Enough to
remove my shirt myself and hand it to the slave.

I then bent down and slowly removed my white shoes and
socks and handed them to the slave who put them with
my other clothes in the basket. When I removed my
under shirt, I heard a slight gasp from my sister, it
was obvious she had seen that I was no little boy,
even though I was only 12 years old.

I have a tight well defined stomach with a trace of
`happy' trail hair already visible running from above
the waist band of my boxers all the way up to my
indented belly button. My chest was still smooth and
hairless but under my arm pits the thick patches of
pit hair had obviously been seen by my sister as I
lifted my under shirt over my head.

My sisters reaction didn't help lessen how much I
blushed as I summoned up new courage and unbelted and
unzipped my suit trousers. I stooped to remove them
revealing fully my grey and black silk boxer shorts.
Again I paused hoping daddy would finish it then and
there, but knowing in my heart that the law required
total nudity.

When nothing was said I resumed, blushing so profusely
I could feel every inch of my face burning like it had
never burned before. As I started pulling down my
boxers, I tried to turn my back to my family and I
covered my groin with my other hand, but daddy
motioned to one of the slaves who gently grabbed me
and redirected me so I was again facing them all.

"Hands by your sides Richard!" daddy demanded.

Reluctantly I complied; fearful daddy would make the
slave remove them with force. As I did this I
simultaneously lowered my head and stared toward the
ground in shame. I was now totally naked and everyone
present could see what I looked like. I blushed even
more profusely than before, my blush spreading from my
face all over my shoulders and chest. My mummy and my
sister sat there gently smiling but daddy was
emotionless, he just stared at my exposed shame.

And shame it was, I was so hairy and so developed!

I am five feet four inches tall and weigh a
hundred-and-five pounds, I was at that stage where I
had lost the soft contours of my pre teenage years,
but had not yet developed the full muscular definition
of an older teen. However I had started growing hair
around my penis and balls when I was still 10. Now at
12, I looked much hairier and more developed than any
12 year old NEWDD or slave I had ever seen. I had a
full thick triangle of curly black pubic hair and even
a thin but ever thickening `happy' trail of hair
running from my pubic triangle all the way up to my
belly button. In fact I was so maturely developed down
there for a 12 year old that I think I totally
surprised my daddy, mummy and sister.

I have a circumcised penis that in the utter shame of
that moment was completely flaccid at about 4 inches,
but erect I have measured it in private, wishing it
would stop growing and it already measures over 6 ½
inches in length. My penis is also quite thick for my
young age, and it hangs out because it has to arch
over my plump scrotum. Comparing my balls to those of
our slaves, mine are almost adult sized; they are very
prominent and can't be hidden, like they still are on
a lot of my fellow students who are my age.

When I fronted for school the next day, my shame was
complete.

Every boy was now naked and I soon discovered that the
majority of the guys in the 7th grade who are 12 years
of age like me are mostly still hairless and have
fairly small penises and balls. A few boys have some
small patches of pubes but no one in the 7th grade or
the 8th grade for that matter was as hairy or anywhere
as developed in the genitals as I was.

Boys and girls on the verge of their teenage years can
be especially cruel and uncaring. Now that all the
boys were naked and could be compared, my close
friends were careful to tread lightly about the size
of my genitals and the amount of body hair I had in
comparison to themselves, though the other guys and
girls at school who weren't so close and particularly
the few who openly disliked me were much less guarded
in their comments. I was the butt of endless jokes and
torment. My name didn't help either. Richard O'Hare,
yep you guessed it, `Dick Hair' they began calling me
and it became a label which stuck.

Whilst I was smart enough to know that I had to ignore
my tormentors so that I didn't get into trouble at
school and suffer the added humiliation of being made
a NEWDD for fighting or abusive language, I was not
good at hiding the fact of how hurtful their comments
were to me.

I hated being the odd guy out at school and because of
this my anger was on the rise. Whilst I would not
actually fight someone for a "Dick Hair" remark, I was
becoming more and more verbally aggressive. This would
inevitably lead to a teacher hearing my comments or
some `goody goody' telling his parents or the school
authorities or both, about my behaviour.

My parents were soon very aware of my decline in
behaviour but when I tried to explain to my daddy that
it was my advanced development that was the problem he
refused to allow me to use that as an excuse for my
behaviour, saying it was a better problem to have than
delayed puberty. Daddy just didn't understand what it
was like for me!

I had been jerking off for years, in fact at least
daily, but sometimes two or three times a day if the
opportunity arose. My ejaculations even after two or
three times in a day were always copious; shooting
numerous globs of cum, as I enjoyed the sexual orgasm
of pleasure they produced. I confess I think I was
addicted to masturbation by the time I was 11 ½ years
old!

This was the only real advantage I could find in my
early development, though it was not something I could
use to throw back at those boys in my class with their
hairless little dicks and balls and probable dry cums,
who were tormenting me. You never confessed you jerked
off!

In the third week of Taking Back Control, daddy acted
to correct my declining behaviour after the school
advised him they were thinking of having me made a
NEWDD. No son of a southern gentleman should ever be a
NEWDD, daddy told me, it bought shame upon your
family.

My mummy was not there but my sister Veronica sat with
daddy in the big leather chairs in the study as
daddy's slaves acted upon his orders. Daddy had
decided that if I had no body hair I could not be
tormented as `Dick Hair', so he ordered his slaves to
shave me bald from the neck down.

Again I felt like a slave. This was just how they were
treated, the only difference being that a slave's head
hair was trimmed or shaved as well. When the slave
touched my flaccid penis to make sure it stayed out of
the way as he ran the electric clippers through my
thick pubic bush, I started to erect. When he held my
delicate low hanging testicles in his hand as he
removed the hairs off my scrotum I went fully erect. I
had seen many a slave suffer the same fate. Now I knew
just how helpless they all felt, your most private
parts being fondled at will.

The slave ran the electric clippers through my pubic
bush, over my scrotum, my bum crack, up my happy trail
and through my pit hairs reducing every hair to
stubble. Then the second slave lathered me up in the
same areas, before the first slave ran a sharp razor
over all my stubble till I was as smooth and hairless
as a little boy. I didn't really look like a little
boy with my 6 ½ inch erection now highlighted even
more by the lack of hair. With all my pubic hair gone,
the only visible sign was a pink rash on my fair skin.
Somehow daddy knew, he always knows, I felt better!
Daddy had made me look more like a little boy again
and when flaccid I knew I would not stand out quite so
much.

"Why are you erect Richard? A free man or boy should
not act like a common slave. Get rid of that
erection!" Daddy ordered.

My sister Veronica giggled, but stopped when daddy
glanced at her with a very stern look.

"What! Right here in front of you, sis and the slaves?
I panickly asked daddy.

I had often watched slaves being milked and had found
the spectacle quite amusing, watching the slave orgasm
in public. But this was different, daddy wanted me to
do that most private and secret of acts, while he, my
sister and his slaves watched!

I couldn't do it! I stood there helplessly, looking at
daddy, he merely looked at me impatiently before he
said, "Well, what are you waiting for Richard, I'm
sure with the package you have, you've masturbated
many times, many, many times!

He knew; how did he know? Daddy always knows!

Blushing completely with embarrassment, I reluctantly
raised my right hand to my erect penis and seized it
behind it's head, making a circle with my thumb and
forefinger around my shaft and draping my other
fingers around the shaft below my forefinger and began
moving my hand up and down my erect penile shaft.
Shivers of pleasure ran through me despite the
embarrassment of the situation. I slowly stroked
myself several times before I picked up the pace of my
stroking.

Daddy motioned for one of his slaves to come over to
him, and ordered, "Slave when Richard ejaculates, be
sure you catch it all as I want to inspect it." Daddy
then leaned forward and handed a glass ashtray to the
slave, who immediately came and stood in front of me
as I continued to jerk off in absolute shock at what
daddy had just ordered. I was now defiantly being
treated like a slave!

As my fingers slid up and down my penis it was soon
throbbing with sensation and pleasure. I could feel
the pressure inside building that always signaled
impending orgasm. I began to moan with the pleasure
and the excitement despite my situation as my balls
started to contract as they got ready to pump my seed.
Moments later I erupted, The slave who had done this
countless times before, grabbed my penis at the last
possible moment and forced it down towards the ashtray
and held it there as I spurted out four thick squirts
followed by several lesser dribbles whilst at the same
time I thrust my hips forward and curled my toes as
waves of pleasure flowed through me and the "after
shocks" ran like electricity through my body.

Daddy broke the silence of his study that was
otherwise only punctuated by my rasping breaths.

"Bring it here", he said to the slave, and the slave
instantly moved over and handed the ashtray containing
my ejaculate to daddy.

Daddy dipped his thumb and forefinger into my creamy
deposit of semen lying in the ashtray.

"Excellent colour, very high viscosity, and a large
volume for your age Richard", he remarked to me,
making me blush some more.

"Send a sample off for testing" daddy instructed his
slave. "A good chance to certify that my son's not
shooting blanks and will be able to produce me an heir
in the due course of time."

So Dr, Learner that was my initial experience with
Taking Back Control. I am still immensely humiliated
and embarrassed by the programme. I feel that people
whisper and even giggle among themselves when I
approach. I am sure I have caught a glimpse of even
our slaves acting like this, though they have enough
sense to correct their behaviour before they get
caught out and suffer the whipping such behaviour
deserves.

Now after reading the Appendix Three testimonials I
worry that daddy will use
Maxregressa-Medroxyprogesterone-Acetate, on me as
well. He has supplies of it on our plantation and
already uses the drug on our domestic male slaves to
chemically castrate them. I don't want the size of my
genitals reduced back to a little boy's package! Maybe
if they could be reduced just a little bit it would be
ok, but I am happy with just being shaved till my
fellow class mates begin to catch up to me. When they
do, I will then be only too glad to have the biggest
hairiest genitals in my grade and be the envy of all
my peers.

Reading about Hugh Wills, Greg Deller and Mark
Shepherd in the testimonials, I don't want to end up
with a tiny little boy penis befitting a 7 or 8 years
old, that would be just as bad if not worse than
having a 6 ½ inch penis at 12 years of age!

Every juvenile suffers under Taking Back Control but
it is not only the poorly endowered who suffer added
humiliation, embarrassment and pain from this
programme; it is also the precocious developers who
equally suffer!

Regards,


Richard O'Hare.


THE END.