Date: Tue, 5 Apr 2011 16:41:03 -0700
From: Liam R <elathrin@hotmail.com>
Subject: Destinies - Part 2

Destinies
by Liam Wheelwright

Note: this story is entirely fictional and set in a future time when
slavery is once again legal and normal.  This tale does not include any
person under the age of 18, however if subjugation of persons at or near
age 18 is worrisome, bothersome or troubling in anyway do not read.  Also,
if mention of a person, who appears over the age of 18 but is mentioned to
have been enslaved prior to his 18th birthday is an issue, again please
don't read.  Thanks.

PREVIOUSLY:

In a future time where slavery is legal, a power-mad dictator is overthrown
by the brother of a boy he'd had enslaved.  As punishment, the usurper has
the deposed dictator watch as his own son, 18 year old Justin is enslaved,
and given to the usurper's brother...who is to be freed under the usurper's
rule.  The deposed dictator is then enslaved, and his vocal cords removed,
silencing him forever.  Now only a number, 513 (formerly Justin) faces the
challenges of his new identity as property, and a seeming future of
lifetime slavery.

Chapter 2


513 woke abruptly, the world dark around him.  For a moment, he hoped that
the overthrow of his father, and their enslavement had been a nightmare.
However, several things disabused him of that hope; the cold are running
along his bare skin, he was used too, but the heavy cold mass of metal
ringing his neck chilled him; the pain from the still healing slave brand
on his left thigh; the heavy metal shackles on his ankles, and the clink of
chain as he shifted his legs; and his cock throbbing vainly in side the
Slave's Belt, begging to get hard, screaming for an orgasm it would never
have again.

513 sobbed, crying silently as his hopes that he'd dreamt it all evaporated
as water left on a boil.  The shock of the previous day had begun to wear
off, and now the cold, hard reality of the situation sank in.  He was a
slave.  His father was a slave.  They would be slaves for the rest of their
lives...the Usurper had warned as much.

Under his father's rule, lifetime enslavement had been reserved for severe
criminal offenses...at least from a legal standpoint.  Treason, Rape, Grand
Theft, Deliberate Vandalism, Habitual Re-offences, and Murder all carried
mandatory sentences of lifetime enslavement, without possibility of
reprieve, parole, or retrial; though those convicted of murder were first
lobotomized so they would not be a danger to their owners.  Most other
crimes carried varying sentences from no less than 2 years to 30 years.
However, 513 had to admit--even if just to himself--it was not uncommon for
those sentenced to terms of enslavement between 2 and 30 to find themselves
facing ever extending indenture for one trumped up reason or another.

513 had to wonder how the slave laws would change under the Usurper's rule.
Would mandatory lifetime enslavement be given to fewer of the current
crimes for which it was the sentence?  Would it be removed entirely from
the judicial system?  Would it even be possible to remove it while still
holding 513 and his father as slaves for life?

That though caused him to wonder...was the Usurper bluffing?  Claiming that
513 would stay a slave forever, just to spite his father?

As his tears slowly dried, 513 dismissed that notion.  There'd been no hint
in the Usurper's eyes that he'd been anything but truthful when he made
that statement.  513 knew that if the Usurper had his way--and there was
currently no means to prevent that--then he'd be a slave forever.

513 was surprised to learn how quickly he could accept the knowledge of his
position, and even accept the fact of it.  He wondered, alone in the
darkness, if he'd be able to accept the duties and realities of it as
easily...if he could accept the emotional burden it would require?

Chains clanking, he shifted himself into a sitting position, his legs
pulled up but spread apart.  Reaching down he ran his hand along the front
of the Slave's Belt, wistfully caressing the solid metal shield that
covered over his crotch, hiding the narrow cock tube in which his penis had
swollen.  Whimpering in growing sexual frustration, he hoped his Owner
would allow him occasional prostate massages to milk the building cum from
his body.  513 knew it wouldn't be the same as an orgasm, but a milking
would at least alleviate the pressure in his balls, and what was sure to be
ever-present sexual frustration.

The sound of a door opening drew 513's attention away from his belt, though
he whimpered again briefly as his body begged for sexual release.

Looking up, he saw another slave move in front of the cage.  The slave was
naked, as slaves usually were kept in summer months, except for bands about
his wrists, and shackles on his ankles, linked like 513's were by chain.
The body was creamy, inviting, and the cock and balls hung between the
slave's legs were larger than average.  513 caught a glimpse of a long
healed slave brand.  While he had expected to see other slaves, especially
others of his father's former possessions, he was startled when the slave
knelt down before the cage.

Staring at him from the other side of the bars was his Owner.  He had not
expected to see Derrek dressed as a slave, since the last he'd seen of his
new Master, the young man was fully dressed.

Not knowing how to react, 513 simply struggled to a kneeling position
himself, and bowed low to his Owner.

"It really isn't fitting that you do that, just yet."  Derrek clucked.

513 looked up, confused.

"My brother made me dress last night for his coup; but until the
manumission papers are signed, I'm still a slave like you.  I can't even
technically take ownership of you until later today."  Derrek paused.
"After last night's activities, I was, of course, required to return to the
appropriate attire of my current station."

513 thought this through a bit.  He supposed it made sense, after all
Derrek was a slave until the right paperwork was signed and processed.
Emboldened he asked: "Why are you visiting me now, then?

There was a slight smile on Derrek's face.  It was less cold than the night
before, but not by much.  "I thought I'd take a chance at getting to know
you while we're still on even footing."

513 blinked.  "Why?  I was not under the impression that you wanted
anything more personal with me than vengeance for the life my father
imposed on you."

Derrek tilted his head to the side.  "Vengeance?"  He rolled the word
across his tongue, it sounded almost distasteful, but not quite.
"Perhaps."

513 shifted uncomfortably under Derrek's gaze.

"Vengeance," Derrek said, "will not change the past.  It will not undo the
three years of humiliation and misery I endured.  And, it wasn't you that
did that too me, so my taking vengeance on you would be pointless.  The man
responsible has already been dealt with."

Derrek paused, and 513 felt he was considering what to say to 513's
unspoken response: "If vengeance against me is pointless, why then should I
be made to suffer for the rest of my life, when surely and equal trade of
time served would punish my father as well?"

"Hiller, my brother, however disagrees with me.  He feels that the wrongs
committed by your father warranted a harsher punishment for him than
death...or even life enslavement.  No, Hiller felt that knowing his actions
led you to a lifetime of slave labor, would drive your father made with
grief and misery.  It is a much more 'fitting' punishment; in Hiller's
mind.

"When Hiller bought me from my last owner, two months ago; and told me what
he planned, I tried to dissuade him.  But, brother or not, I was his slave,
and my opinion mattered little.  He was gentle about it, but put his foot
down, as it were."

"So if not vengeance...on your part, then why come here? Why talk to me on
even footing?"

"Because our situations--my history, and your future--are not totally
dissimilar.  We both were enslaved for the actions of others.  And I feel
that, while we're still equals, you deserve to know more about me."

513 thought this through a moment.  Then he nodded slowly.  "Thank you."

Derrek positioned himself in a standard slave kneeling rest position; knees
wide apart, feet tucked, back straight, and hands resting on his thighs.
After a moment's pause to collect his thoughts, he began to speak:

"My brother and I are the sons of a wealthy and powerful Senator...."

To be continued....?