Date: Tue, 18 Jan 2011 00:03:32 -0800 (PST)
From: Christian Debus <servus4u@ymail.com>
Subject: "Changed Circumstances" Chapter 2

"CHANGED CIRCUMSTANCES"

CHAPTER 2: `THE JUDGEMENT'

This is a story of erotic fiction meant for adult readers over the age of
eighteen years.

Written by Jean-Christophe
"To see all my stories go to groups.yahoo.com/group/SlaveNow"

Chapter 2: `The Judgement'

"Who's Guy Maratier? Do you know him? What can you tell me about him?"

I'm surprised by the directness of Simon Barrow's questions. But even more so
his agitated manner puzzles me.

Normally, Simon is deferential and polite when he addresses me. I'm struck by
the fact that he hasn't greeted me formally as is his custom. Usually, I'd be
annoyed by this, but something in his manner tells me things aren`t quite as
they should be. So I choose to overlook his breach of etiquette and answer his
questions.

"I know of Guy Maratier but I don't know him and I've never met him. He is a
very distant relation of mine. Why are you asking?"

I choose my answers carefully. I have no wish to divulge to Simon this
unfortunate aspect of my family's history.

I'm well aware of Guy Maratier. He is after all one of only three living relatives of mine;
albeit a very distant one. His grandmother, Charlotte Barrois was my grandfather's
sister and only sibling who I never knew and she wasn't spoken of within the
family. As a child I was unaware of her and it wasn't until my late-teens that I
learned of her existence,

As a young woman she was noted for her beauty and high spirits and was greatly
loved by her parents. As a Barrois, she was expected to make a suitable marriage
with the son of another pioneering family thus adding to the family`s prestige.
Instead, as I understand the story, she fell in love with a handsome, young
employee at "La Forˆt" and disgraced herself and the family honour by falling
pregnant to him. Considered a fortune hunter by the Barrios family, the employee
was dismissed and when he left, Charlotte went with him. Outraged, the family
cut all ties with their errant daughter and dispossessed her.

Contrary to the Barrois opinion of him, the overseer wasn't a fortune hunter and
from all accounts he and Charlotte were genuinely in love. I'm not too sure of
what happened to them. But I did hear that their lives were made difficult.
 Charlotte, of course, was ostracized by "polite society" and the only
work her husband could find was as an overseer of slaves on the farms of the
nouveau riche and never on the plantations of the establishment. The old money
families - always "close knit" - refused to employ him out of respect for the
Barrois family.

Initially, I was fascinated by this "skeleton in my family's closet" and made
recent discreet inquiries about this unacknowledged branch of the Barrois. These
disclosed that Charlotte had a son who was born shortly before my own father's
birth and he was her only child. Denied the education and privileges enjoyed by
my father, Charlotte's son had never amounted to much and had drifted from job
to job before drinking himself into an early grave. Unable to maintain a steady
relationship, he managed to father his one and only child, Guy before his
marriage broke up. My inquiries told me that Guy is eight years older than me
and now, at twenty-nine, he is married, but separated, and has an eleven year old
son named Etienne. Guy, like his father before him, doesn't amount to much and
prefers to live on his wits.

My curiosity satisfied, I'd promptly forgotten about this branch of the family
and haven't given any thought to them since. Until now, that is, but why has
Simon Barrow asked about Guy and in what context? I'm a little perplexed.

"Well then! We could have a problem." Simon replies. "I have just been informed
that he has petitioned the court about your grandfather's will."

"Why? I don`t understand?" My confused questions tumble out. "Can he do that?
What are his grounds for petitioning?"

"I don't know on what grounds he's based his petition. But yes! If he's a
relation of your grandfather's - he does have the right to petition. Look I
don't know any more about it than what I've already told you. But we may need to
go into court and make him an "offer". How do you feel about that, Lucien?"

"Is that really necessary?" Is all I manage to blurt out.

"Lucien, I would think this is all about money. Obviously, he's after some of
your money. While your grandfather's will was quite explicit in that you are his
sole heir - and that's legally binding and no court will alter that - it could
be easier if you agree to give him a sizeable sum as a goodwill gesture. This could
 prevent a protracted and messy ongoing battle through the courts."

I can see the wisdom of what Simon is saying. It's clear that Guy is looking to
share in my good fortune and common sense tells me it's better to settle with him
amicably rather than engage in a costly and rancorous court battle. And
certainly there are enough funds in the estate to allow for this. Also, I ask
myself - do I want a public airing of the family's unhappy history? I decide I
will do all I can to prevent this from happening.

"Alright Simon. I see the wisdom of your suggestion. What amount would you
suggest we offer?'

"Let's play it by ear, shall we? We don't want to offer too much for a start,
Let's start small and work up and see how far he'll push us ? But I do have your
permission to go into the court and negotiate?"

"Yes!" I reply simply.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

As we enter into the courtroom, I feel apprehensive and intimidated. I've never
been to a court before so everything is strange and bewildering.

The room itself isn't large; one could say it has an air of intimacy about it.
I'm not to know it's been designed to put the litigants at their ease. Its
primary function is one of mediation and conciliation, unlike the adjoining
courts used for hearing criminal cases. Nevertheless I do feel confronted by
it. I'm not here of my own free will; I've been ordered to appear.

At the head of the room is a raised bench behind which, I presume Judge Matthews
will preside and below it are the ancillary tables at which the court
officials are already sitting. A court bailiff directs the two of us to a
table set to the left and in front of the judge's bench - I'm to learn this is
the respondent's table - and in a corresponding position on the judge's right is
an identical table for the use of the petitioner. Sitting at this table are two
men whom I assume are Guy and his lawyer.

It's not too difficult for me to decide which one is my relative - I recognise in
him a family resemblance to my grandfather. As I look at Guy, I see a tall,
powerfully built man of striking appearance. His black, shoulder length hair
frames his handsome face and even beneath his cheap clothes, I see he possesses
an impressive physique. I'm strangely drawn to him and I ask myself - if it's
because of our common blood? I have a sense of regret that we've met under these
circumstances and wished we had known each other through the lonely years of my
childhood. How I would dearly have liked an older "brother" to look up to.
Perhaps even now we can be friends. I'll certainly make an effort to do so.

Then, he looks towards me and stares directly into my face. He smiles but not
in welcome. The sheer malevolence of his smile causes my blood to run cold and I
shudder as I see the hatred in his eyes. Quickly, I avert my eyes and continue
scanning the room.

There is a small, public area set aside for visitors to the court and it's
already crowded by spectators - I wonder at their interest in something as
trivial as my routine visit to this court. I'm to discover later that these are,
in the main, friends and supporters of Guy Maratier. And seated in the front
row of the public gallery are several men equipped with cameras. I don't know
it, but these are members of the press alerted by Guy to this afternoon's
hearing. He has told them of the possibility of something unusual and
newsworthy happening and they sit bored and waiting. In their experience
nothing newsworthy EVER happens at the Court of Disputations.

As my gaze travels around the room, I watch as several uniformed officers of the
court file in and line up against a wall. For some unknown reason their presence
disturbs me and makes me fearful. Why are they here and for what purpose? I'm
about to ask Simon but am prevented from doing so by the shouted order of the
Judge's Clerk to

"ALL RISE! For His Honour, Judge Clarence J Matthews.

We remain standing as His Honour takes his seat and the clerk reads out the
business of the court. The judge then asks if both litigants are present and
when told that we are, he asks that both Guy and I remain standing. Our
respective lawyers stand alongside of us.

Judge Matthews reminds us that, whilst the proceedings will be conducted
informally, we are still in a court of law and that its dignity is to be
preserved. He tells our lawyers that he'll allow them some latitude but won't
tolerate any unruly interjections of behaviour from either of them or their
clients. Anyway, he tells us the proceedings will be brief as a decision on the
matter before him has already been made and this afternoon's gathering is
simply a formality - it is serves as an opportunity to deliver those findings.

All of this is bewildering to me and I'm unaware of what matter is before him
that required his deliberation. As I glance sideways at Simon, I note the
perplexed look on his face. I am disturbed by all of this.

His Honour addresses me and asks if I'm KNOWN as Lucien Henri Barrios - as he
does so, I sense his hostility towards me and I note the disdain in his voice -
I answer in the affirmative. Then he asks Guy if he IS Guy Patric Maratier.
After answering "Yes, Your Honour" the judge gives Guy permission to sit. In
contrast, I am ordered to remain standing throughout the proceedings.

I now know something is seriously amiss and this is re-enforced by Simon'
whispered protest to me of "What the fuck's going on?

Suddenly, I'm afraid.

In great detail, Judge Matthews now explains why we are here.


>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

If this court is designed to put its protagonists at ease then I feel decidedly
uneasy. I'm the only one standing - everyone else is sitting - and inexplicably
I feel "guilty". But of what am I guilty?

I notice that the members of the public have a new interest in proceedings. It's
almost as though they sense something momentous is about to happen and they lean
forward eagerly listening to Judge Matthews. Even the journalists have stirred
from their lethargic boredom and are busily recording every word of his
deliberation. The room is electric with anticipation.

I can't describe how I feel. I know `something" is wrong and now I am really
scared. What is happening is totally unexpected and I still don't know what I
have done and why I'm being treated this way. I ask myself. What have I done?
What is my crime? I rack my brains thinking - what is my transgression?

As the only one standing, I feel like a criminal and I suppose I must look like
one to the rest of the court-room. Briefly I have a flashback to the seven young
convicts I'd just watched being taken to the forge for branding and collaring as
the first step into their slavery. Is this how they were treated when they
appeared before the courts? Did they have to stand as judgment was passed on
them? My bowels squirm and I feel the need to piss - badly.  My body trembles
involuntarily.

The stillness of the court-room is broken by the drone like pitch of Judge
Matthew's words and the occasional gasps of surprise from an outraged public.
And as I listen, I too share their disbelief. At another time and under
different circumstances, I would have shared their self-justified outrage. The
story being outlined by Judge Matthews is so shocking in its content that it has
the potential to shake the foundations on which a slave-owning society rests. To
a slave-holder, what the judge is portraying is a heinous crime deserving of the
strongest condemnation.

As I listen to the judge's words, I'm mortally afraid and a sideways glance at
Simon Barrows face tells me my fear is justified. As he listens to the Judge
Matthew's deliberation, he looks shocked and totally disbelieving of what the
judge is saying.

My mind reels at the judge's words as he details the case against me.


>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Judge Matthews outlines to the court how shortly after the death of Jean-Claude
Barrois, - my grandfather - and the settlement of his will in my favour, the
Court of Disputations had received a petition from Guy Patric Maratier claiming
that the will was illegal and asking for it to be set aside in his favour.

Judge Matthews tells us that at first he'd viewed the petition as preposterous
and determined to dispense with it quickly. And to avoid any embarrassment to
the illustrious Barrois family he decided to do so in secret. However, as he
considered the petition, there were several compelling factors and documentary
evidence that made him reconsider his initial re-action to Guy Maratier's petition.

In essence the petition suggested that the will was illegal in declaring me as
its sole beneficiary. It went on to say that I had no legal standing under the
law as I was slave-born. (At this, the court erupts noisily and has to be
brought to order). I'm confused and the implications of these words don't register.

The petition stated Henri Barrois was indeed my father but my mother however
was a slave-woman known as Ophelia who was in the service of the Barrois
household. After my birth, the slave Ophelia was sold but the family kept me
and presented me to society as its son and grandson.

At this point, Judge Matthews pauses to comment on the sense of disgust he'd
felt when he'd discovered this subterfuge on the part of Barrois family. It is,
he said an outrage that anyone would foist a slave born child onto a trusting
society and present it as the family's heir. Further, he adds it is fraudulent
and disgraces the proud Barrois family. Once he'd established that a fraud had
been committed, he worked diligently to right an evil wrong and to restore some
measure of honour to the tarnished Barrois name.

Returning to the petition, Judge Matthews told us how he'd gone to great
lengths to establish the authenticity or otherwise of Guy's claims. He'd managed
to locate the slave, Ophelia, now an elderly nanny to a family of five children,
and he'd managed to obtain a statement from her supporting Guy's petition. Of
course, the judge hastens to remind us that the evidence of a slave is
inadmissible to a court unless that evidence is obtained under "duress". The
slave Ophelia had given her evidence under duress and therefore the judge
accepted it. But even then, he wasn't completely satisfied and, in
the interests of justice, he had DNA samples taken from both Ophelia and
me. Just how he'd managed to extract my DNA is open to conjecture and he
didn't elaborate on this. Still, I often attend social activities and I suppose
it would be easy for someone to secretly obtain a sample of my DNA.

The ethics of his actions don't seem to worry the judge; he goes on to justify
his actions by saying that if the test refuted Guy's claims then it was done in
my best interests but if it established that I was indeed slave-born then no
harm was done as slaves don't have rights under law. Anyway, he concludes, it
needed to be done in the interests of justice.

The tenor of his arguments and the ominous tone of his voice confirm by worst
fears. The inference in his words already sees me as a slave. I am doomed. What
is to happen to me?

The court is brought to a shocked hush as Judge Matthews now hands down his
findings. My world is crashing down around me. Less than an hour ago, I was
Lucien Henri Barrois sole possessor of the family's fortune and full of the
pride and arrogance of the rich and powerful. Now it appears that all this is to be
stripped away from me leaving me where and as what ........?

Trembling from a mixture of shock, uncertainty and fear, I struggle to listen as
Judge Matthews hands down his decision. It is devastating for me.

Judge Matthews tells us once more of his disgust at the machinations of my
grandfather and father in presenting me to polite society as a legitimate member
of their family and at their cruel betrayal in denying the existence of a true
heir of the blood in the person of Guy Marratier.

At this juncture, he pauses and offers Guy the court's profound expression of
regret at this deplorable action on the Barrois family's part. And he tells Guy how pleasing
it is to him - personally- that he is able to rectify the situation. I look across
at Guy and see him smiling broadly as he acknowledges the judge's sentiments.

Returning to his judgment, Judge Matthews tells us that my father, Henri hadn't
broken any laws in impregnating the slave -woman, Ophelia. He was only
exercising the rights of a young master in using a slave for his own pleasure -
all perfectly legal and understandable. But he adds that the law is quite
explicit when it comes to the status of any progeny born from such a liaison; it
is and remains a slave unless manumitted by the "father". A close scrutiny of
the records had shown no such manumission had ever occurred and therefore the legal
status of the individual known to us as Lucien Barrois is that of a slave.

The silence of the court-room is broken by my anguished scream of, "NOOOOO......!"
as I collapse into my seat.

My outburst earns me a stern rebuke from the judge and he orders the court
guards to restrain and gag me. I struggle futilely in their firm grasp as my
hands are fastened behind my back and I have a gag placed in my mouth. As they
do so I`m conscious of the room being lit up by camera flashes. I`m not to know
my story and its accompanying pictures will soon be front page news and will set
tongues wagging over many a dinner-table where I`d once sat as a welcome and
honoured guest.

I'm shaking uncontrollably and sobbing hysterically into my gag as I listen to
Judge Matthews return to delivering his verdict.

"I find that the petition is upheld and I further find in favour of the
petitioner, Guy Patric Maratier"

There is a triumphant shout from my distant cousin and the court breaks into
shouts and loud handclapping from his supporters. The judge watches indulgently;
the excitement of the petitioner and his friends is perfectly understandable.
Judge Matthews is pleased - Justice has been served and he is its Instrument.

He waits patiently until the noise subsides and resumes his deliverance.

"I rule that the individual presented to this court as Lucien Henri Barrois is
slave born and the progeny of a casual liaison between Henri Barrois and one of
his slave women, called by the name Ophelia. In the absence of any "Document of
Manumission" granting him freedom, I further rule that the legal status of the
individual known as Lucien Henri Barrois is that of a slave and I order that he
be returned to immediate slavery. He is no longer entitled to bear the name by
which he has been known to date and in the absence of any other name he wiil
now be referred to simply as "slave". And of course, he IS the property of the
Barrois estate."

These words don't penetrate into the swirling maelstrom of my mind and I don't
hear as Judge Matthews continues.

"My findings do in fact invalidate the will of the late Jean-Claude Barrois in
that he nominated a slave as his heir and sole beneficiary. His actions in
 elevating a slave above his true station are reprehensible and endangers
the very fabric of our society. It has distressed me to no end that a name so
illustrious as that of Barrois could perpetrate so vile a crime, but I have to
some extent been able to mitigate their guilt in this by looking closely at the
will and establishing that Guy Patric Marratier is in fact the true and sole
heir to the Barrois estate. I therefore declare him as the true successor by
both blood and birth to the Barrois fortune."

Again the court-room erupts as Guy's friends and supporters in the public
gallery break into loud cheering.

"Mr. Maratier, you have my heartiest congratulations on your good fortune and I
express my sincerest regret at the unfair and quite spiteful treatment of the
late Jean-Claude Barrois in seeking to deny you your birthright. I derive much
personal satisfaction in righting a great wrong. But now we need to get down to
the serious business of transferring the Barrois estate over to you. Already, I
have court officials working on this and over the coming days they'll help you
to establish your authority over the various Barrois enterprises."

I still stand uncomprehending of what is happening to me. The judge's words
swirl around me.

"Mr. Maratier, no doubt you'll want to take immediate possession of your town
residence and the plantation known as "La Forˆt". To help you do this I'll send
a court bailiff with you to establish your ownership of them as soon as
proceeding here are finished and I order Mr. Simon Barrow to assist you in every
way possible. I can count on your co-operation, can't I Mr. Barrow?"

"Indeed you can, Your Honour." Simon answers as he hastily leaves my side and
moves over to Guy's table.

I now stand alone. I am completely, utterly and devastatingly alone. I'm now a slave
without a friend in this court and indeed, as I'm to find out in coming days,
without one in the wider world.

"Mr. Maratier. What are your wishes regarding your slave?" The judge's question
crashes through my conscious and I'm aware that it's me he's referring to.

"How do you mean, Your Honour?" Guy asks.

"Well the slave is your property, Mr. Maratier. What do you want done with him.
He's now yours to do with as you please. That is, once he's been processed
through the courts. We will need to issue you with "documents of ownership" for
him. Do you have a name for him that we can use to register him under or do you
intend to let him remain unnamed?"

Guy pauses as he considers this before answering. "Rafe, Your Honour. I want to
call him Rafe."

"That's' spelt R-A-F-E is it? The judge asks. "We must get the spelling
correct."

"Yes, Your Honour."

"It's an unusual name, Mr Maratier. Nevertheless it's a good name for a slave - brief
and straight to the point. Why did you choose it, Mr Maratier?"

"Your Honour. When I was a boy I had a dog named Rafe."

"Ahh! So it's a pet's name. Do you intend to keep your new slave as a pet, Mr Maratier?

"No, not at all, Your Honour. He was the Barrois family's pet for far too long.
It's my intention that he's to experience life as a working slave. I'll be
putting him to hard labour."

"I commend your decision, Mr Maratier. The slave is eminently suited for heavy
duty work. I congratulate you. It could be said that this is your first executive
decision as the head of the Barrois enterprises. If you keep making those types
of level-headed decisions then I know the business is in good hands. But tell me
Mr Maratier, Is it your intention to retain the name of Barrois for your various
businesses or are you to change them to Maratier? You're perfectly entitled to
do that, you know."

"To be honest with you, Your Honour. I haven't thought about that. After all, I
couldn't pre-empt your decision could I?'

Indeed not, Mr Maratier. That was very wise of you."

"I would need to think carefully about that. It would mean changing the
companies' name and logo. And I would think - although I don't know for sure -
that all the Barrois slaves wear the Barrois brand.'

"A minor concern, I should think, Mr Maratier. You could always re-brand your
slaves on another part of the body with your own logo; more or less putting your
stamp on them. Certainly there would be a few legal necessities to be attended
to in changing the name and logo of the various Barrois enterprises but
re-branding the slaves is a decision for you alone to make. They're your
property, after all. With regard to changing the name of the companies, I'm sure
Mr Simon Barrow would be willing to assist you with this. Isn't that so, Mr
Barrow?"

"Absolutely, Your Honour! I'd be delighted to assist Mr Maratier in any way I
can."

"I'm sure you would, Mr Barrow." The judge adds sarcastically. "There you are
then, Mr Maratier. Call on Mr Barrow to assist you. And I strongly urge you to
do so. This whole unsavoury affair is likely to cause a backlash against anything
bearing the Barrois name When this unhappy event becomes known, the public will
be justifiably angry at the Barrois family's unscrupulous attempt to foist a
slave onto society. I'm afraid; Mr Maratier that the Barrois name is now sullied
and irredeemable. In your own interests, I urge you to use your own name rather than
the disgraced Barrois name. The public will, I'm sure understand and accept the
necessity for you to do this."

"Thank you for your wise counsel, Your Honour. I see the wisdom of what you're
saying and will take immediate steps to implement the changes you suggest. I'm
grateful for your good advice."

"I'm glad and I wish you good luck. Remember, if you encounter any
difficulties, I stand ready to assist. But now let's return to your slave. You're quite
sure about the name you've chosen for him. It's your wish that the slave be
known as Rafe?"

"Yes, Your Honour. I'm quite sure,"

"Then in future, the slave is to be called Rafe." Judge Matthews rules.

I listen in shocked disbelief at my dispossession. In less than an hour, I have
lost my fortune and my freedom and I've also been stripped of my humanity. I no
longer have the name I'd borne all my life and that identified me as a free
person; I am now a slave called by the name my new master has chosen for me. I'm
no longer Lucien Barrois, freeman; now I'm the slave, Rafe. I am at rock bottom.
Things can't get worse for me. How wrong I am.

"There now remains only the physical examination of the slave as a preliminary
to filling in his papers and then he'll need to be branded and collared before
he is taken from the court's precincts." The judge continues, "Once that has
been done, the slave is yours to take with you should you so desire. You
indicated earlier that he is to be put to hard labour. Is it your wish to keep
him for such duties or do you want him sent to the dealers for sale as a work
slave, Mr. Maratier?"

"No, Your Honour. I intend to keep him whilst I decide his future." Guy answers
quickly.

"I assume the slave is unbranded? Perhaps we should check whether or not he is?"
Judge Matthews comments, "Bailiff! Unfasten the slave's hands and have him
disrobe for the court please."

I'm totally unprepared for this and listen in shocked horror at the judge's
instructions. Through my consternation, I hear the ripple of conversation from
the watching spectators who are, no doubt, excited at the prospect of my
ultimate humiliation and the sight of my enforced nakedness.

This eagerness on their part is soon to be shared in the wider community. I'm
about to become a "cause celebre", one much discussed and debated, widely
despised, absolutely reviled and the subject of much voyeuristic curiosity.

I wait as the guards unfasten my wrists; incongruously I think that tonight I
was meant to share the podium with the Governor as he outlines his tough new
stance on the state's slavery laws. My former name was meant to add substance to
his proposals. I don't realise it, but it won't be the prestige of the former
Lucien Barrois who gives strength to his arguments. Rather tonight, he'll use
the unhappy saga of the slave, Rafe to rail against the abolitionists and
do-gooders and to scare the public into an acceptance of his extreme policies.
In fact, it will be the story of Rafe which wins the election for the Governor
and give him the excuse to implement even more draconian laws controlling the
already miserable lives of slaves than the ones he'd previously proposed.

Life for slaves is about to become even harder than it is currently. After The
Governor's successful re-election, masters will be allowed to work their slaves
longer and harder and to subject them to even harsher punishments than they
already suffer. This will be the unintended result of my story. I, as the slave
Rafe, will be the cause of their increased misery and suffering and I will
share in their hardships.

To be continued .....