Date: Mon, 21 Dec 2009 10:36:30 -0500
From: williamrush@hushmail.com
Subject: A Christmas in New Atlantis

The Chronicles of New Atlantis
Part One: A Christmas in New Atlantis
by William Rush


Disclaimer

The content and opinions expressed in this story are not necessarily the
personal view of the story's author and not necessarily those of anyone
responsible for this archive or website.

This story contains depictions of sexually explicit erotic acts. In some
cases these acts may be of a homosexual nature, if this is illegal where
you are at, please stop reading now.


This story depicts simulated sexual acts between adults and minors. If this
type of material is offensive to you, then stop reading now. By reading
further you declare or affirm that you are not a minor or in the company of
a minor and are entitled to read this material, furthermore you declare
that you will not hold the author and the archive or website publishing
this story liable for any damages incurred from reading this story.


The author grants permission for this work and all his other works to be
reposted on any site as long as the site does not charge for membership and
as long as it is legal to post the story on that site and that there is no
illegal intent when posting the story. If a site charges membership,
permission must be granted prior to allowing the story to be published. The
author retains all rights to the story and permission to publish this story
does not alter or transfer those rights.


I also want to make my normal speech now. This is a work of fiction and as
such, should be treated as that. I do not endorse anything that happens in
this story, nor do I encourage anyone to participate in any activities like
this. This is fantasy. If you feel that you are in danger of molesting or
harming a child, then you should seek immediate psychiatric help. Remember
in most countries there's nothing illegal about having those thought, but
if you act on them that's an entirely different matter. Any similarities to
real people or places, is completely coincidental.


(((NOTE TO WRITERS: If you'ld like to write a story based in this world,
feel free to forward a copy of the story or idea to me, and I'll take a
look at it. Once I approve the story, you can submit it to the PZA Boys
Archive to be added to the New Atlantis Chronicles page, please mention
that the story is written for the New Atlantis Chronicles in your
disclaimer. Remember, that since the story will be published on the PZA
Boys Archives, per Celadon's approval, you should ensure the story meets
that website's guidelines. Stories that involve children under the age of
six or extreme themes such as murder, will not be approved. My e-mail is
greenphone69@yahoo.com)))


Prologue


In many ways it was our ignorance that brought it upon us. Having given in
to greed and avarice we slowly destroyed the planet that had given us life
for so many centuries, leaving in its wake a wasteland, barely able to
support those that survived the cataclysm. Our people learned a hard
lesson, driven to small enclosed cities that existed underneath the ground,
each day that passed became more desperate than the last. We thought that
all was lost, that we would slowly wither away to nothing, that each child
born to us, was born with no future but one of suffering and pain... Then
the Teachers discovered it, a fresh green world that existed in another
dimension, outside of our own.

The first travelers to this world came back and told us they had found it,
the mother planet, the one that we had come from so long ago. This planet
was Earth. Earth was not doing well either, the things that had occurred on
Gea, the name we had given our own planet, were now beginning on Earth. It
saddened us greatly to know that the last fertile world of the human race
was sinking into despair.

When news of this great discovery reached the citizens, the Senate was
called to order to decide what we should do. They consulted the Oracles and
sought the guidance of the Gods. Many believed the misfortune that had
struck Gea was the punishment of these same Gods, that Zeus himself had
brought down the destruction of civilization in order to humble us and set
us back on the path of nature. They worried that perhaps our punishment
would follow us back to the planet we once called home, that this world
already struggling to survive would suffer from our own sins.

Our worries were outweighed by our plight. The word was sent out. We would
return home and save Earth, bring life back to that world and end its
suffering. War was a thing of the past on Gea, but it still raged on
Earth. We knew that the people of this world would not bow down and give up
their ways easily, that something else must be done.

We came to Earth in the year of Sterodes, by their calender it was the year
1969. The nation that we chose to contact first was called the United
States. When we arrived we asked them for refuge and it was given. The
northern most state, known as Alaska, was handed over to us, so that we
might start anew.

It was not easy for the people of this new world to accept us. Our ways
were ancient to them, our beliefs dead. We did not abandon Gea completely,
for it was still our home, rather we used the resources available on Earth
to help our city states to survive and prosper.

In less than two decades, the threat to Earth was gone and the knowledge we
had gained on this new world was used to reverse the slow decay of Gea
itself. There was joy in both worlds. New Altantis, which was what we
called Alaska then, was a golden beacon to all the nations. We thought that
peace would reign, that somehow we had stopped the decline of both society
and nature, then came the jealousy that is so beset in the hearts of men.

New Atlantis prospered while other nations still suffered under the yoke of
poverty. The first attack came unexpected and nearly destroyed the entire
city of Nereus. The senate deliberated for two days before a decision was
made to strike back, but not in the way that most would expect, rather we
offered to share our knowledge, to help the world enjoy the same joys that
New Atlantis enjoyed. New Atlantis sent delegates to each country, sharing
technology and offering them an alliance. Many still saw the Atlantians, as
we had come to be called, as misogynists and sadists, but much of the
world, seeing a chance for a better future accepted the offer and became
member states, governing themselves, but abiding by the general decrees of
New Atlantis.

The hardest laws to absorb were those pertaining to pederasty and
slavery. Many could not ascribe to these concepts, seen as evil and sinful
by most of the modern religions. New Atlantis did not force this upon any
of its states, rather it merely required that they not enforce any law that
would deny the rights of those citizens in other states the right to
practice pederasty or own slaves in those places where it was legal. Hence
the ninety day law was enacted in most countries.

This law stated that a man or woman that owned a slave, could only bring a
slave into another state for a maximum of ninety days if that state did not
allow the practice. They could retain their slaves while they were in these
states, but were required to treat the slaves according to the universal
laws of slavery while they were in the non-slave states.

By the year 2009 one third of the nations in the world joined the Union of
Atlantis and nearly half of those had adopted slavery. The stigma of
slavery had declined for the most part.

Now the fortieth anniversary of New Atlantis was upon us and the states of
the Union were prepared to celebrate. It was decreed by the Senate that all
parents should ensure the prosperity of the Union by celebrating the
Festival of Lights, also known as Christmas, to its fullest. Parents
throughout the world sought to make this year the best Christmas ever, and
it is here that our story really begins.


Part One

A Christmas in New Atlantis

Chapter one


Brent stared out the window, watching the snow as it drifted down from the
dark sky. It was Christmas Eve and his parents had told him that Santa had
gotten him a very special present that he could open that night, if he was
a good boy. Brent was nine and didn't believe in Santa anymore, but he did
believe in presents. Brent tried very hard to be a good boy, he even helped
his little brother David build a snowman. Mother laughed as her sons
struggled to lift one heavy snowball on top of the next as they built their
snowman.

Brent and David had different fathers, so it wasn't readily apparent that
the boys were brothers. Brent looked very much like his own father, he had
dark black hair and blue eyes, his skin was pale and he was slender. If his
hair grew too long, people mistook the boy for a girl, so his mother kept
it short and parted to one side. David, looked more like his mother, he had
long dark blonde hair and brown eyes, he was a bit stocky, but in no way
fat, just a hardy little lad.

That night mother made her special Christmas ginger cookies for
Santa. David was so excited he could hardly wait to set out the cookies and
milk, certain Santa would leave him something very special of his
own. David wasn't certain how Santa had given Brent's present to his
parents without him knowing, but he wasn't too upset, because he knew he
would get to open a present that night too.

The boys found it impossible to sit still during dinner, they knew that
afterwards they would be opening their special presents. Both boys tried to
get out of eating, thinking the sooner they finished the sooner they'd get
their presents, but Mother wasn't having any of it. She made them eat all
of their vegetables and then desert.

When dinner was finally over, the boys tried to get up from the table but
Father stopped them and told them, "you need to stay here so I can bring
your presents out. If you try to sneak a peak, you wont get them 'til New
Years, got that?"

Both boys nodded their heads and clasped their hands together, overjoyed at
the prospect of finally receiving their special presents. They heard their
father and mother in the living room, bringing the presents in and sat on
the edge of their seats.

"Alright," father said, "you can come in now."

Brent and David leaped from their chairs and ran into the living
room. Brent stopped in his tracks when he saw what his present was, in fact
his legs trembled a bit and he thought he might fall down. It was not joy
that filled his heart, but trepidation, for there, standing beside father,
with a big bow wrapped and around his chest and privates, was a young boy,
barely thirteen. The boy had dark brown hair and brown eyes, his skin was
an olive complexion and Brent thought he looked quite frightened. Beside
the boy sat a very large puppy, a mastiff to be exact.

Father had selected the boy and dog himself, for more prurient reasons than
the boys could understand. Mother had not wanted to get the boys these
particular presents, realizing they were more for the benefit of her
husband than the boys, but she gave in when he said he'd take her to Paris
for a second honeymoon.

"Well," father asked, looking at the shocked little boys.

"You got me a slave," Brent said, sounding a bit disappointed.

"Yes," father said smiling. "He's all yours."

"That's a big puppy," David said, looking at the brown colored pup. "Why
didn't you get me a slave Daddy?"

"Well David," Father said, "if you can take care of this puppy, then maybe
we'll get you a slave next year, okay?"

"Cool," David said, smiling.

"What's his name," Brent said.

"I haven't named the puppy," David said, "I do get to name him, don't I
Daddy?"

"Yes David," Father said, then, knowing Brent was talking about the slave,
added, "and Brent you can name your slave too."

"He doesn't have a name," Brent said, looking at the boy carefully.

"Not anymore," Father said. "You can name him whatever you want."

The slim boy was much bigger than Brent. Brent could see that the boys arms
were held tight to his sides by the ribbon, the boy also had a gag in his
mouth, put there to prevent him from spoiling the surprise. The slim
teenager trembled as he tried to stand still, tears streamed down his
cheeks.  He looked very frightened and Brent felt bad for the boy.

"He had a name," Brent said, "didn't he Dad?"

"Yes," Father said, "but you need to give him a new one, he isn't that boy
anymore. It would be cruel to call him by his old name."

"Why," Brent asked.

"Because he'll remember what his life was like before," Father said, "and
that'll make him sad."

Brent nodded his head, thinking that made sense.

"What should I name him then," Brent asked.

"Whatever you want," Father said, smiling, thinking of his own names for
the boy as he shifted his erection in his pants.

"I'm naming my puppy Scruffy," David said. "I always wanted a puppy named
Scruffy."

David's mother smiled as she stroked her son's hair, "we know honey. Why
don't you go say hi to Scruffy?"

David ran over and kneeled down beside his new puppy, petting him and
smiling as the little dog licked his hand.

"I like Scruffy," David said, "thanks Mommy. Thanks Daddy."

"Oh," Mother said, "you're so welcome dear. I'm glad you like him."

"I told you he would," Father said, smiling. "What about you Brent, don't
you like your present?"

"I don't know," Brent said, "What am I supposed to do with him?"

"He's your slave," Father said, "You can do whatever you want with him,
well, within limits."

Father explained to Brent the things he could and couldn't do with his new
slaves, leaving out the more lurid options. For the sake of brevity, the
laws regarding treatment of slaves simply states that you can't permanently
harm a slave, unless you receive a permit, you couldn't kill a slave for
any reason, the penalties for doing so were severe, including capital
punishment, and you had to make sure that the slave was fed and kept
healthy.

"Do you want to unwrap him," Father asked.

Brent hesitated for a second, then walked over to the older slave boy and
yanked on the ribbon, When it came free he gasped, seeing for the first
time another boy's erection. Brent stared at the boy's little prick,
fascinated by the skin that covered the tip of it. He and David were both
circumcised, the sight of an uncircumcised penis so close to him caused the
boy's curiosity to peak.

"Jesus Frank," Mother said, "Couldn't you put some underwear on the boy?"

"I didn't think he was a slut," Father said, then shouted, "get that down
boy, now!"

The slave boy whimpered and closed his eyes trying hard to get his four
inch little stiffy to soften, but he couldn't. He sobbed knowing what would
happen if he failed.

"Grab his balls Brent," Father said, "It's your job to keep him soft."

"But Daddy," Brent said, "I like him having a woody."

"You do," Mother and Father said almost at the same time.

"I've never seen one like that before," Brent said, "Can't he keep it for a
little while?"

Father looked at his son, then the slave boy, thinking about where this
might go, then finally said, "Okay, but he can only have an erection when
you want him to and that doesn't mean all the time."

"Alright Daddy," Brent said, staring closely at the slave boys erect
member. "I think I'll call him Woody."

"What," mother asked.

"Cause he's got a woody mom," Brent said.

"Don't you think there are better names for him," Mother said. "Maybe
Stephen or Max, those are good names."

"Mommy," Brent said, "I want to name him Woody. Please."

"Fine," Mother said, rolling her eyes. "You can call him Woody, but god
help him if he thinks he's going to run around here with an erection for
the rest of the night."

"Why's his pee pee stiff mommy?" David asked, staring at Woody's erection.

"Oh Jesus," Mother said, "Are you happy Frank."

"He's just excited buddy," Father said, "when boys get to be his age, their
penises get stiff when they're excited."

"Oh," David said, then looking at Woody's penis even more intently asked,
"What's he excited about?"

"That my boy," Father said, "Is something you'll have to wait to find out."

"Daddy," David said in a whining voice.

Brent stared at his slave boy, watching the slim young teenager stare at
him as well. Woody looked sad and very embarrassed. Brent felt a bit
embarrassed too.

"Can't he wear some undies Daddy," Brent said.

"Absolutely not," Father said, "I don't want anyone thinking we're
anti-Atlantians."

"But," Brent said, "I think he'd be happier in undies Daddy."

"I know son," Father said, "but it's not good for him to wear clothes,
he'll start to think he's a free boy."

"Okay," Brent said, reaching out to touch the young slave boy's smooth
stomach.

Woody flinched, worried that the boy might pinch him or hit him, but the
boy didn't, instead he just stroked the boy's tummy, as if he was trying to
figure out if he was real or not.

"Can we take the rubber thing out of his mouth," Brent said, "I want to
hear what he sounds like."

"Not right now," Father said, "maybe later tonight."

Father looked at the boy and hoped that his son would be too scared to let
the older boy sleep in his room. If he was, he was certain to take the boy
out to the garage that night to try him out himself. Mother saw the look in
Father's eyes and wasn't happy. She knew he liked young boys and it was
only the fact that her husband was constantly staring at his own boys when
they were naked that caused her to agree to this ridiculous arrangement.

The laws stated clearly that, although it was legal to have sex with a
slave boy, it was still against the law to have sex with free boys without
the boy's consent, and the punishment was particularly harsh for men caught
forcing themselves on their own flesh and blood. Mother believed Father
could control his urges if he had a slave boy to satisfy those urges with,
but she also was very upset with her husband for wanting to have sex with
someone other than herself, so with the gears working in her mind she
decided to make it a bit harder for her husband to satisfy those urges.

"Brent," Mother said, "This slave is yours and only yours. No one will do
anything to this slave without your permission. Okay honey?"

"Okay mom," Brent said, in a happy little voice.

"Honey," Father said in hushed tone.

"What dear," Mother said, "Did you want to play with Woody too?"

Woody looked at the man and did not miss the fact that the man sported a
large erection. His young heart beat very hard in his chest. He prayed to
Zeus that the man's wife would not let the man 'play' with him.

Father didn't say anything, he just stared at his wife and shook his
head. He loathed his wife at that moment. He wished she was more
progressive. The Henderson's had a little nine year old slave boy named
Ricky, and Mary Henderson had no problem with her husband toying with the
little blonde haired boy now and then. Father knew that Bob Henderson would
let him fuck little Ricky if he wanted, but he hadn't asked because the boy
was so close in age to Brent and he worried people might get the wrong
impression and think he was doing things with his own son.

"Why don't you take Woody to your room dear," Mother said. "so you can get
to know him."

"He doesn't need to get to know him," Father said, "he's a slave for
Christ's sake."

"Frank," Mother said, "really that's up to Brent now isn't it?"

"Damn it Linda," Father said, "you're going to turn the boy into an
abolitionist."

"Don't be silly," Mother said, "Run along Brent. If you need us you can
just holler, okay?"

"Yes mommy," Brent said, grabbing Woody's hand and leading him to his
bedroom.

Brent looked at the slave boy with a mischievous smile. Despite what his
parents thought, Brent knew certain things about boys and sex. He hadn't
had anyone to try those things out with, that is until now. When he looked
at Woody, he wasn't looking at a slave really, but rather an older boy that
could teach him everything he wanted to know about penises, blow jobs, and
fucking.

If Brent's mother had been aware of this, she most certainly wouldn't have
let Brent go off to his bedroom alone with Woody, but she, like most
parents, was oblivious to the small amount of knowledge her child possessed
about sex. She thought the worst thing he might do is touch the boy's
penis, and to be honest, she thought that was a bit on the adorable
side. Even now as her son sat on his bed, staring at Woody, she imagined
her son stroking the slim teenager's rod, causing the boy to cry out in
lust. She wondered if he'd bring him to culmination, actually cause the boy
to cum or if he'd torture the poor little adolescent, stopping before he
had a chance to orgasm.

Brent had ideas of his own. He had felt the itchy feeling before, when he
tugged on his little willy, but he knew that it was supposed to feel much
better, he just didn't know how to make it feel better. This slave knew,
Brent could see it in the boy's eyes. Woody would be his gateway to
pleasure, he was certain of that. All those mysterious things the other
boys talked about on the playground at school, would soon be revealed to
him, in perhaps a most unexpected way.

"Do you want me to take that thing out of your mouth," Brent said.

Woody nodded vigorously and dropped down to his knees in front of his young
master. He looked at the boy as he struggled to unbuckle the gag, unable to
pull the tightly fastened strap loose.

"You do it," Brent said, "I can't get it loose."

Woody reached behind his head and unfastened the buckle. He sat there
waiting for the boy to pull the gag out of his mouth. Brent looked at him
for awhile, wondering why Woody wasn't taking the rubber thing out of his
mouth, finally getting impatient he reached down and pulled it out. Brent
was shocked to see that the gag was actually a long plastic thing in the
shape of man's penis. It was at least five inches long and he wondered how
the boy was able to breath with it in his mouth. Of course Woody himself
had difficulties learning to draw a breath around the long gag, but like
all slave boys he did learn.

Brent stared at the penis gag for awhile and shook his head, wondering why
they would put something like a penis in the boy's mouth, then it dawned on
him, it must have something to do with blowjobs.

"Can you talk," Brent asked.

"Yes master," Woody said, in a clear high pitched boyish voice.

"Good," Brent said, "do you like your new name?"

"Yes master," Woody said.

"What was your old name," Brent asked, still curious.

"Your father has forbidden me from telling you master," Woody said,
trembling a bit, worried about what the boy's reaction might be.

"Come on," Brent said, "you can tell me, I wont tell him."

"I'm sorry master," Woody said, "but your father has forbidden me."

"I'm your master," Brent said in a huff, "Dad can't tell you what to do."

"I'm sorry master," Woody said, remembering clearly that the boy's father
had threatened to 'cut his balls off' if he told Brent his former name, a
threat he took quite literally.

"Well that sucks," Brent said, looking at the boy's penis again. "Stand up
Woody."

Woody stood in front of the boy, his penis stiff as a board. His foreskin
had started to slip over the tip of the boy's rigid little member. Brent
touched the shiny exposed head causing the boy to gasp at the sudden
sensation. Woody kept his hands at his sides as he watched the young boy
sitting in front of him touch his penis. He hated the boy, not for any
other reason than the fact that Brent could touch his penis, but he
couldn't.

He felt incredibly ashamed that a boy smaller than him had such absolute
control over his body. He knew that if he wanted to he could grab this
skinny little twirp and thrash him, but he also knew that if he did that,
he might end up emasculated if the Slave Authority believed he was
attempting to rape a free boy. Realizing he had few options he stood still
feeling the rising pleasure in his penis from the boy's playful touch.

Brent giggled when the slave boy's little rod twitched in front of him. He
pulled the boy's foreskin over his cock head and then pulled it back,
looking at the older lad tremble and whimper. Woody knew that if the boy's
father found out he had an orgasm, that despite what the mother had told
this boy, he would be severely punished. He fought hard to avoid the
sensations building inside of his penis, wanting more than anything to be
someplace else.

Brent however was having a great deal of fun. He watched the slave boy's
cute little eyes widen as he continued to pull the boy's foreskin back and
forth over the sensitive head of the boy's penis.

"Do you like that," Brent asked the older boy.

"Master," he said, "please stop."

"I'm sorry," Brent said, "I thought I was making you feel good."

"You are master," Woody said, "but if you keep doing it, I'll get in a lot
of trouble."

"Why," Brent said.

"I can't tell you master," Woody said, remembering this time the threats of
the boy's mother and what she would do to his penis if he corrupted the
boy.

"Then I'm not going to stop," Brent said, beginning to stroke the boy's
penis again.

"Ngggh," Woody cried out, clenching his fists at his side, "please master
stop, please!"

"No," Brent said, "Not unless you tell me why."

"I can't master," the boy sobbed, "please stop now, before it's too late."

"No," Brent said, "if you can't tell me why, I'll find out why."

Woody's entire body tensed up as he felt the little boy tug the end of his
foreskin away from his body, then just as quickly pull it back over the
head of his penis, he came a second later, small spurts of his young boy
juice shot out across his young master's hand and fingers, as he let out a
loud cry. Brent, shocked at this unexpected occurrence, let go of the boy's
penis and watched it throb in front of him as more of the clear fluid
dribbled out of his cock.

"Wow," Brent said, "is that what you wouldn't tell me about?"

Woody nodded, knowing it was too late now.

"That's cool," Brent said. "Daddy! Daddy! Come and see what Woody did."

"No master," the boy said, "please!"

Brent's father walked in a few moments later and immediately saw that the
slave's erection was nearly gone, but he also saw the clear boy juice
dripping from the end, as well as the droplets of fluid coating his son's
hand and wrist.

"What the hell did you do," Father shouted at the slave.

"I was tugging on his penis and stuff came out," Brent said, "I think he
might be sick."

"For Christ's sake," Father cried, grabbing the slave boy by the arm and
dragging him out of the room, "he's only nine you filthy beast."

Woody begged the man not to hurt him. He told the man that he had tried to
stop the boy, but he wouldn't. Father didn't care, he knew now that he'd
have time alone with the boy, his wife would never let her sons witness the
boy being punished. They had never spanked their boys, let alone punished
them the way young Woody was about to be.


Chapter 2


"You fucking little beast," the man shouted as he thrashed the boy's bottom
with a belt. "You want to cum on my little boy!"

"No master," the boy begged, "it was an accident master."

"Fuck that," the man said, bringing the belt down over and over across the
boy's bottom, "you wanted to get your rocks off and you used my little boy
to do it."

The slave boy screamed as the man continued to lash his bottom with the
belt. Unlike the trainers at the Center, this man did not land each blow
with accurate precision, rather he savagely struck the boy over and over as
hard as he could.

The boy's pitiful cries could be heard in the house, where Mother had just
learned what had happened. Unlike her husband, the woman was not
particularly upset, rather she realized that the lad had been forced to
have an orgasm against his will. Hearing the young boy's scream sent
shivers down her spine and soon Brent began to sob, guilt overwhelming his
gentle soul.

"I didn't mean to get Woody in trouble," Brent sniffled. "Please make Daddy
stop."

"Make him stop Mommy," David sobbed.

"Alright dear," Mommy said, "I'll go make Daddy stop."

Mother walked to the garage and opened the door, she watched her husband,
whose pants were now wrapped around his ankles, thrash the boy, his
erection quite obvious in the white briefs he wore. Mother shook her head
and hit the switch for the garage door. As it opened her husband, realizing
the neighbors would see him with an erection thrashing a naked slave boy,
panicked and pulled his pants up quickly, putting his belt on as fast as he
could. He tried in vain to reposition his erection so no one would be able
to notice.

He sighed when he saw that only Bob Henderson was out, in fact he was
walking his own slave boy, little nine year old Ricky. He had heard the
sound of Woody being beaten and worried that his old friend had lost it
with Brent or David. He had thought about going in to check on things, when
the garage door opened.

"Hi Bob," Father said, trying to sound nonchalant, waving to the man
standing in his driveway.

"Hi Frank," Bob said, staring at the naked boy hanging by his wrists, "Is
that a slave I see?"

"Yeah," Father said, trying to catch his breath, thrashing the boy had worn
him out.

"Good looking lad," Bob said, "he'll be fun to have around, I'm sure."

 "I'm not sure how much fun Frank will have," Mother said, "He's Brent's
slave."

Mother and Father stared at each other. Father wanted so badly to spend
time alone with the boy, he couldn't resist the urge to fuck the boy. He
knew the boy was a virgin still, he had been given up by his parents less
than six months ago because of disciplinary problems. The boy had been
indentured to the Center to be trained in the basic functions of a boy
slave, in particular the boy had been trained to perform expert oral sex on
a man and also clean and cook, the basic skills usually required of a
slave. Anal sex was not included, because virgins were much more valued
than trained boys in that regard.

Mother could not understand how anyone would give up their child that way,
but at the same time she was resigned to the fact that slavery existed, and
for the most part, was a benefit to society. Child molestation had
plummeted since the implementation of slavery, so did violent crime. The
sentence of life as a slave was much worse than life in prison. No one
wanted to be sent to the mines or farms, having to work fourteen hour days,
sometimes seven days a week, only receiving a rest when there was no more
work to do, and rarely did a slave run out of work to do.

The young slaves had it worse, most of them were reserved for sexual
favors. If the boy or girl was attractive, there was no way around them
becoming a house slave. Even the less attractive ones usually ended up as
sexual treats for some man or woman who didn't mind placing the boy or girl
in a permanent mask or paying for cosmetic surgery.

There were two thoughts regarding the practice of children being used for
sexual pleasure, one believed that since children are capable of
experiencing sexual pleasure from birth, that it was simple piety that
prevented them from experiencing those joys. Why then, if a child was
destined for a life in an orphanage or if the child had behavioral problems
that posed a threat to others, shouldn't they be put to use in some way?
Most masters were not cruel or harsh, though some, such as Father were
prone to be, most were kind and loving. They doted on their slaves as if
they were their own children. Perhaps they might spank them a bit more,
perhaps they took them to bed with them, but they fed them and kept them
off the streets, was it better for them to starve or be deprived of
attention?

The second group believed that slavery was as much a part of the human race
as anything else. It had existed for as long as man had, and despite
societies greatest efforts, it was never banished. If then, slavery does
exist, why shouldn't one make use of it. Isn't it true that society
consists of the strong and weak, the wealthy and poor? Is there a reason
why one should not enjoy the labors of another if in the end society gains
some benefit from it?

With this being said, Father was looking at young Ricky now with a desire
he hadn't felt in a long time, if his wife would deny him the pleasures of
young Woody, he realized that he would not be able to resist finding some
purchase for the night. He looked at his wife, with lust in his eyes and
his wife knew his desire, just as Bob Henderson did.

"Please honey," he said, like a child begging his mother for a new toy,
"I've been so good."

Mother looked at her husband, disdain in her eyes, and simply said, "fine,
but only his mouth."

"Thank you honey," Father said, sounding like he was about to cry. "I love
you honey."

Mother looked at the sobbing slave boy and shook her head, feeling terribly
sorry for the poor creature, but knowing that it was for the best. At least
he would not try to fuck the boy in the bottom, which she knew from
personal experience was a painful act.

Mother closed the garage door and went back into the living room. Brent and
David sat in the kitchen waiting for Mother's return. When she saw her two
little boys she smiled and took them by the hand and went back to the
living room, so they would not hear her husband and the slave boy.

"She might've saved your ass," Father said, "but your mouths mine boy."


Chapter 3


The boy sobbed as the man untied him. Woody immediately dropped to his
knees, his hands reaching for the man's pants. He knew it was better to
just get it done with, fighting the man was futile, he was bigger and
stronger, not to mention horny as a dog in heat.

The man looked at the naked boy and saw that his erection was gone now. The
boy was still beautiful though, his slender frame and boyish face fueled
his lust. He wanted to feel the boy's mouth so bad.

The boy pulled the man's cock out with an experienced hand, he was shocked
at the size, it wasn't that it was exceptionally long, in that regard it
was only seven inches, rather it was the fact that it was very thick and
almost angry looking.

"Lick it," Father said, looking down at the sad little boy.

Woody did as he was told and stuck his tongue out and licked the man's
cock. He could taste the salt from the sweat that had clung to the stiff
member. The man moaned, gripping the boy tightly by the hair.

"Yeah," the man said, "just like that."

Woody looked up at the man, making sure to look in the man's eyes, knowing
that would arouse him even more than he already was.

"Suck it now," Father said, "but don't try and make me cum fast, I want
this to last."

The boy nodded and took the man's member inside of his mouth, running his
tongue in circles around the thick head. The man's cock stretched the boy's
lips, it was more than a mouthful for the young teen. As he took more of
the man's cock in his mouth, he began to huff, as he tried hard to breath
through his snuffed up nose.

"Keep doing that," the man said, loving the feel of the boy's tongue
running along the bottom of his cock.

The boy did as he was told and went to work, rubbing his tongue along the
man's cock, pushing up against it as hard as he could. The man groaned and
pulled the boy by his hair further onto his cock. Woody gave a muffled cry
at the sudden pain.

"Quit complaining," Father said, "if I had my way, this would be up your
ass you little tart."

Woody whimpered, looking up at the man with his sad brown eyes. Father,
feeling a moment of sympathy, relented his assault on the boy's hair and
instead placed his hand firmly on the back of the boy's head, guiding him
on and off of his cock.

Neither the boy or the man realized that young Brent was watching the
scene, having snuck out of the living room to check on the wellbeing of his
boy slave. As the man gasped, Brent's mouth hung open in awe of the lurid
display that presented itself to him. He could see his father's thick
turgid rod pushing in and out of the boy's mouth slowly, and it frightened
and mesmerized him.

"Jesus," the man said, "you're going to get it soon boy."

Brent, for a moment, thought that his father was talking to him, but then
realizing that neither knew he was watching closed the door 'til it was
just open a crack and kept watching. It was that brief movement that caught
Father's attention. He glanced towards the door and realized that Brent was
there, for a second he was going to stop, but then a perverse desire washed
over him and instead he renewed his assault on Woody's mouth, thrusting
nearly his entire rod into the young slave's mouth, causing the boy to gag.

"Take it," Father cried out, "take it all!"

The perverse notion of having his son watching him fuck the boy's mouth
with his cock was too much for the man and with one final thrust he grunted
and released his cum inside of the boy.

Spurt after spurt of the man's thick seed shot into the boy's small
mouth. Woody fought to keep up with it, but the confined space caused some
of the man's cum to run down along the sides of lips and drip off the boy's
chin. Father, wanting his son to see the powerful act of his orgasm, pulled
his cock out, letting the remaining cum shoot out in short bursts over
Woody's face, coating his nose and cheeks.

"That's it boy," Father said, "you like cum don't you."

"Yes master," the boy said, out of breath.

"You'll be doing that a lot from now on," the man said, "so get used to
it."

"Yes master," Woody said, "thank you master."

Brent, shocked and still a bit frightened, moved away from the door and ran
back into the living room. Mother looked up from playing with David and the
puppy and saw that something was wrong with her son.

"What's the matter dear," Mother asked.

"Nothing," Brent said nervously, "we're out of eggnog."

A bout of anxiety filled Mother's heart as she suddenly realized what might
be causing the boy's anxiety.

"Did you spy on Woody and Daddy," mother asked, her heart dropping inside
of her chest.

The boy nodded and then ran over to his mother, who grabbed the boy and
wrapped her arms around him.

"He made him put his penis in his mouth," the boy said, sobbing, "then he
peed all over him."

"Oh dear," mother said, "my poor boy. You shouldn't have spied on
them. Poor, poor child."

Mother took Brent too his room and talked with him. She explained about
blow jobs and orgasms, how men liked to do things with little boys because
they thought it was sexy. She explained that Daddy wasn't hurting Woody, he
just wanted Woody to make him feel good. All the while her mind raged,
wanting nothing more than to tie her own husband up in the garage and beat
the living shit out of him.

"How was I supposed to know he was watching," Father yelled.

"He wouldn't have watched anything if you could keep your dick in your
pants," Mother yelled back.

The argument went on for awhile. Brent sat in his bedroom, Woody sitting
next to him, trembling, wondering if he would be punished for what had
happened.

"What does it taste like," Brent asked, looking at the dried streaks of cum
on the slave boy's face.

"It's salty master," Woody said, bowing his head.

"Do you like the taste," Brent asked.

"Not really master," Woody said, "but you have to say you do."

"Why," Brent asked.

"Because that's what masters want to hear," Woody said.

"You don't have to tell me that," Brent said. "I like you Woody."

Woody smiled at the innocent child and saw the goodness in the boy's heart,
he reached out and messed up the boy's hair.

"I like you too Master," Woody said.

"I'm glad I got you for Christmas," Brent said.

"Me too Master," Woody said.



To be continued???