Date: Tue, 15 Feb 2005 05:45:59 -0800 (PST)
From: Pete Brown <petebrownuk@yahoo.com>
Subject: Enslaved, Part 9

ENSLAVED, By Pete Brown. petebrownuk @ yahoo.com

Read all of Pete's stories in
groups.yahoo.com/group/petebrownseroticstories

Part 9

Somehow, hearing about the story they'd concocted made
me feel better about - or should I say "reconciled" to
 - my life.  I knew now that my uncle would never free
me, and could never again acknowledge me as his
nephew, having "killed me off" with those fucking
oysters!

I was therefore now fully and properly a slave, and to
survive as a slave without getting bull-whipped or
worse, you had to buckle down and obey, and work.
Actually, I suppose, it's not all that bad:  I had
always enjoyed using my body, and now I could revel in
its power and strength.  And a slave doesn't worry all
that much, you know - you're pretty sure your meals
are going to come regularly, as they want to keep your
strength up.  They may whip you and cane you, but
they're not going to really damage your body as they
want you to be able to work, and, anyway, with the
increasing shortages of criminals and so on, the price
of slaves is going up and up so you are a valuable
commodity. As Blackie and I worked away I sometimes
wondered if I hadn't been dealt a reasonable hand in
life - if I'd gone on being a free man and had gone
north, as I'd planned, I'd have become a lawyer or a
banker or something ,then it would just have been
stress, stress, stress.  And if I'd done as my uncle
asked, I'd have been in charge of the plantation, then
it would have been dealing with Straughan, worrying
about the finances, keeping up appearances.....

As it was, all I had to do was obey orders, and the
rest took care of itself.  People often forget that as
a slave, all responsibility for your actions is no
longer your own, it's your owner's.  So there was no
need to be concerned about appearing naked, for
example - that was my owner's decision.  And of course
I had Blackie - I'd never have known the complete joy
of spending every minute of every day with such a
perfect guy.  We were closer than lovers - we worked
together, shit and showered together, slept together,
fucked each other, fucked other slaves together... It
was almost perfect.

My only problem was Marie-Louise, who still seemed
intent on punishing me for my "crime" of "deserting"
her.  As her pregnancy advanced, and she needed to be
ferried between her house, my uncle's, and the
hospital for her ante-natal checks, she started to ask
my uncle if she could use his landau, with Blackie and
me pulling.  Then, every time, after she'd dismounted
she'd come and touch me - sometimes resting her long
scarlet-tipped fingers on a pec, sometimes just
caressing my butt, and sometimes even feeling my dick
and balls:  it was all so totally humiliating, to have
this woman who I'd known socially using my body like
this.  She always wore black, to remind all the local
studs that she was a widow, and she always claimed
that she had no intention of "re-marrying" as she
revered the memory of her dead husband too much!

Blackie was almost jealous of these attentions, and as
we lay together at night he'd tell me how lucky I was
to have a woman touching my body like this, and kept
asking me why it was that the mistress only touched
me, and not him!  "I'd love to feel a woman just
occasionally, Steve", he told me.  "You're great,
buddy, but there's something I'd like to remember
about my previous life, before I came here.... I don't
want to go back to have to have sex with women, of
course, but the softness of a woman's hand on my
dick... It would certainly make a change from those
calloused hands of yours!"

Still, apart from that, life wasn't all bad, and I
even got to see my sons soon after they were born, as
Marie-Louise took them home from the hospital in the
landau with Blackie and me proudly pulling it.  Yes, I
did say sons - she had twin boys, who were promptly
called Jon and Jed, in honour of their father and
grandfather.  That night was really tough for me -
Blackie quite rightly thought we should be excited at
having heirs to the place, but couldn't understand my
elation and why I was so much more enthusiastic about
it then even he was.  I couldn't tell him, could I,
that a man always wants sons, and now I had them:
after all, he thought that I'd had sons long ago, and
ought to have been missing them following my
enslavement.  Later, though, reaction took over, and
as he was fucking me Blackie suddenly stopped, and
hugged me. I could see he was very upset, and for a
moment thought that I might have inadvertently done
something stupid like cry out about "my babies" in my
passion.  But no, he whispered to me "Steve, you're
the only guy I could say this to - all the other
slaves on the estate think I'm the big, tough, top.
But you're different, Steve, I can tell you
anything...."

I hugged him back, "Yes, of course, Blackie...."

"Steve - seeing those babies today... It breaks my
heart.  I remember my sons... I wonder where they are
now?  I've missed seeing them growing up, Steve.  Boys
need a father's guidance, and although their mother's
very good, I sometimes wake up at night worrying that
they'll go wrong somewhere without me there to advise
them.  Oh, Steve, why do you think she never tried to
buy me?  I'm sure she'd have had the money, and our
owner would certainly have sold, as you know how he
likes to make a profit on slaves..."

He broke off as he started to give small sobs - those
catches of breath that men do when they don't want to
break down completely.  And I found myself doing the
same, not only in sympathy for Blackie, but because I
was remembering how it was me that had deprived him of
that glorious chance to really mould and cherish his
sons.

Still, I had some chance to take part in my sons
upbringing - a very small one, admittedly.  I was
there outside the church for the christening, attended
by all the finest families locally, and where I heard
that Marie-Louise gave a little speech praising her
dead husband, and saying how she would forever wear
black widow's weeds in his memory.  Well, black they
might be, but widow's weeds, hardly:  she was always
taking little trips to Paris "to see my dress maker"
as she said, and returning with boxes and boxes from
the couturiers on the Faubourg St Honore.

I even got a chance to actually touch my sons
sometimes - one particular incident that stands out in
my mind is when Marie-Louise had taken the boys, now
aged four, for a picnic.  She was sitting under the
shade of one of the huge oaks that border the meadow
by the swimming hole, and Jed and Jon were running
around playing together.  But they got fractious and
cross in the humid heat, and needed "amusement".  I
heard Marie-Louise telling them the should play
"horsey", then her clear voice rang out, telling
Blackie and me to come over, and get on our hands and
knees.  Little Jed rode me, and Jon rode Blackie -
they sat astride our backs and we had to "race" around
the field on our hands and knees.  It was fun, I
suppose - but that night I was really uncomfortable as
my ribs were all bruised where Jed had constantly
kicked at me with the heels of his shoes, to "help you
go faster, Steve", he'd kept shouting.  It seemed that
he was learning young about the way to operate slaves!


Later, when the boys must have been about twelve, and
they were allowed to take us out by themselves if
their mother or my uncle or their grandparents did not
want the landau, they'd taken us down to that very
same spot where they'd played "horsey" for about a
year until they tired of it.  It was stiflingly,
oppressively hot, but they did allow Blackie and me to
stand under the shade of one of the oaks.  We watched,
not keeping our heads totally bent as we should have,
as the boys stripped off their shorts and Ts and
pulled on swimmers.  Then I head Jon say "This is
fucking stupid - look at the ponies, how cool they
look with nothing on... Come on...."
He pulled off his swimmers, and ran naked across the
grass to execute a perfect dive into the cool water of
the swimming hole, closely followed by his brother.
Afterwards, they lay on the grass, drying in the sun,
and we could see the white stripe across their
otherwise tanned bodies as they lay there.  Across the
clear air it was perfectly easy to hear what they were
saying, and Jed turned to his brother and asked  "You
don't think we're freaks, do you, bro?  This hair
growing on our balls...."

"No, of course not!  It's natural.  You weren't
listening in school and at church, when they told us
god caused this to happen at our age, to show that we
were turning into proper Christians." I was truly
appalled at the way that our education system was
degrading, hearing how those fucking Christians had
subverted it even more than when I was at school, when
they'd first started teaching that creationist
theology rubbish in stead of proper Darwinian
evolutionary theory.

Jed got up and came over to us.  My son cupped my
balls in his hand, and felt around.  Then I felt his
fingers slide over my dick, and even though I was as
embarrassed and humiliated as hell, I couldn't stop
getting an erection.  He did the same thing to
Blackie, then went back to Jon.

"Well, I think they're lying - the ponies are men, and
they don't have hair on their balls....."

"You are an idiot, Jed!  Of course they don't -
they're slaves! Slaves aren't Christians, so god
doesn't give them hair there."

"They go erect though, Jon... Like we do...."

"Well of course they do.  They're animals, after all,
even though they're not proper men.   You've seen how
all the real horses, and the bull, and that big porker
on the pig farm all get erect... All male animals do."

"And do they cum, Jon, like you and me?"

"Of course!  Come here..."  Blackie and I watched as
the two young lads started to stroke each other, until
they both shot.  They lay there, laughing and giggling
to each other, and I marvelled at this scene of
innocence.  I'd always had to keep my own jerking off
secret from my dad, but these boys were totally
uninhibited in front of me.  And then the thought
struck me - no, they'd be just as embarrassed in front
of their grandfather, and probably their father, if
they had one - they just didn't mind doing it in front
of us, as we weren't really "there" as far as they
were concerned - they were so used to having slaves
around that we just didn't count at all.  They were as
private, they believed, in front of slaves as they
would have been in their own bedroom.  I hated the
thought that my sons now just regarded slaves as
objects,  but growing up rich and privileged in the
south, I suppose it was inevitable.  Still, I envied
them one thing - how incredible it must be to have a
twin brother, and to be able to share everything with
him.  I'd come to recognise the unbelievable feelings
that being so close to Blackie brought me, and for
them, it would be even better - they wouldn't waste
the first years of their lives discovering what the
love of one man for another could bring.

They lay still, recovering from their exertions, then
Jon said "Hey, Jed, remember how we used to play
'horsey' with Steve and Blackie?  Want to play
again.... I bet I'm still the better rider..."

"No, it's too hot.  I don't want their hot sweaty
backs under my ass."

"Well I can think of another game....", then his voice
changed, and he called out "You slaves, get over
here."

Blackie and I were made to kneel in front of the boys,
and Jon chose me, and Jed chose Blackie.  Then Jon
ordered us to jerk off!  "I bet you Steve will shoot
first", he told his brother.  "In fact, I bet you a
five..."

Blackie and I looked at each other almost in shock.
It would b terrible for Blackie, I knew, to have to do
this as he was used to topping the house slaves who
were not all that much older than these two.  But for
me it was infinitely worse, to be ordered to
masturbate in front of my sons, and for a bet, too.
Still, what could we do?  When they saw us hesitating,
Jon snapped "Get fucking wanking, slaves, unless you
want me to report you to Straughan when we get
back..."  So as the two young lads watched, their own
dicks rising with excitement as Blackie and I brought
ourselves to erection and then to climax, as we just
had do as ordered.

That swimming hole was also the scene of the third
most vivid memories of that time.  The boys" were now
men, having celebrated their sixteenth birthday the
previous evening with a huge party for all kids from
their school - there  had been a huge marquee on the
lawn, a rock band playing, and a lot of illicit
drinking.  We'd heard it all from the stables, and
some of the guests had even crept in to find some
quiet place to fuck, or to throw up!

That morning, much later, when they'd finally got out
of their beds, looking totally wasted, they ordered
the carriage for Blackie and me to take them to the
swimming hole again, as they wanted to keep out of the
way of the adults who were not too pleased with the
way that the party for "young ladies and gentlemen"
had gone.  They were fully mature now, and I could see
the amazing similarities between them and me at their
age - the same slim but defined musculature, the
handsome faces, big dicks and low-hanging balls, the
dark blond hair, bleached white on their legs and
arms, but shading to darker around their pubes....

They swam in a desultory way for a few minutes, then
threw themselves on the grass.  "Do you remember, Jon,
all that crap about god giving us pubic hair..."

"Sure, bro.  Just like all the crap in church.  All
that walking on the water, virgin births, rising from
the dead... All fairy stories!"

"Sure, Jon, of course.  But it's good for the slaves
to think there'll be a better life after this, even
though no sensible person would believe it.  But do
you remember when we were kids how we got Blackie and
Steve to jerk off that time?  We'd seen our own cum,
but we were totally awed by the volumes those two guys
shot!  And now we're getting to be old, like them.."

"Don't be fucking stupid, Jed!  Steve must be almost
forty, and Blackie's older... I heard Straughan going
through the slave records the other day.  We've got a
long way to go yet, before we're really old, like
them."

"Still, Jon, we're men now - have been since
yesterday.  It's all legal now!"

"You mean fucking?  So what?  We've been fucking each
other for three years."

"Yes, Jon - but we can fuck other guys now, and they
can't lock us up - or enslave us!"

"So shall we celebrate... Roll over, and get your legs
in the air, little bro - and I'll take my privileges
now for coming out first when we were born..."

"No, Jon.  I want to celebrate by fucking a real man,
a real hard ass... Let's give ourselves a birthday
treat...."

"You mean go back and get a couple of the house boys?
Or are you thinking of some of those big niggas in the
fields, all strong long thighs, and big bubble
butts...  Forget it - It's too hot, I just want to
stay here."

"No, Jon - let's fuck the pony slaves!  We've watched
those butts of theirs long enough...  Every  time we
take them out we see those asses.  And do you remember
how we used to ride them when we played 'horsey'?
Well, let's try riding them properly now, as a master
can ride the ass of a slave...."

Jon gave a great shout of "Yes!", then called for
Blackie and me to go over to them.

Look, I really don't want to write about this.  It was
awful for both of us - I saw Blackie almost crying as
instead of using the young house slaves hard, as he
did, Jed now pounded him in what Blackie regarded as a
complete reversal of "the natural order".  And I was
completely mortified as my own son knelt between my
thighs and looked down at me as his dick forced its
way into my ass.    But I had to hang in there, didn't
I?  I mean, apart form the fact that I was gagged and
didn't speak, if I'd held out, as it was so wrong, the
truth might have come out, and my sons' lives would be
ruined - they'd never be able to look their friends in
the face again, as they'd always be taunted as being
the sons of a slave.

My uncle died when the boys were twenty, and the trust
fund, set up all those years ago, resulted in them
becoming owners of the plantation a year later.  They
were at college - a "proper" southern one, where the
values of society were properly understood, as their
mother said - and one day, when we got back as
Marie-Louise had used us to go into town for a lunch
with some of her lady friends, still all in black,
still a widow, the two young men bounded down the
steps to greet her on her return.  As usual,
Marie-Louise had stopped to touch my dick, and Jon
called out "Oh mom, don't!  That's so out..."

"What do you mean, Jon?  These are still the finest
ponies in the area.  And with the price of slaves
going higher all the time, it's unlikely we'll be able
to buy better..."

"Yes, mom, but they're so 'out', so totally
'yesterday'.  We can't take them anywhere, as our
friends are all laughing at us."

"I'm sure they're not, Jed.  Most young men at college
would be pleased to have one pony these days, let
alone a matched pair like this."

"No, mom, they're laughing at  us as these are so old
fashioned and so totally last decade.  'Modern Slave
Owner' says that the only 'respectable' pony these
days, the only pony a gentleman would want to be seen
driving, should be gelded, and stubbed."

"What on earth's that?

"Stubbing, mom... Don't you know anything about
anything, except clothes?"  Jon smiled as he said
this, paying his mother a huge, affectionate
compliment.  "Stubbing  - they simply slice the
slave's dick off at about half an inch from the body.
After all, without his balls he doesn't need it for
shooting!  And he can still piss properly and
everything, as you know that's all controlled by the
bladder muscles - they just neaten up the end of the
urethra.... There's no mess or anything.  And the
AMSPCS has said it isn't cruel at all - in fact, they
say that concerned slave owners ought to have it done
to slaves who have to work nude, as it's kinder to the
slaves not to have to have their balls and dicks
flopping around everywhere..."

"Your mother knows more about anatomy, and about
slaves' dicks than you might imagine, boys",
Marie-Louise responded, laughing.  "I'll talk to your
grandfather, and to Mr Straughan, about it... They are
valuable property, remember, and I don't want to
affect their asset value."

"Sure, mom, but I called the veterinarian and he can
do the gelding and stubbing on Friday.... And,
strictly speaking, there two ponies do belong to us
now, after grandfather's trust...."

Marie-Louise now felt my dick again, as she sill
sometimes did, then, giving me a look that said
unmistakably "I've paid you back at last, bastard".
She said to her sons "You're right.  You're men now.
You must make up your own minds, run your own lives.
I've longed to go back and live in Paris, and I think
the time has come for your mother to bow out a little,
and give you both the freedom to live as you wish.
I'm going to book tickets for next week...."

She turned and went into the house, and Blackie and I
stood there, completely horror stuck.  That night in
our stall, two of the waiters were unlucky enough to
come for a fucking, and were probably surprised at the
ferocity with which both Blackie and I pounded them.
Afterwards, Blackie whispered to me "Was that the last
time, do you think? Should we lock that away in our
brains as the last time we get to use our dicks, and
shoot cum?  Oh, Steve... This stubbing... We're going
to look stupid!"

"Come on, Blackie, there's only one thing to do
now.... You remember that slave at church last Sunday
who was starting to tell us about the Underground
Railway, how there were men and women down here who
risked imprisonment to help slaves escape to the
north... That's what we've got to do, Blackie....
Let's make a run for it."

"But Steve... If we're caught...."

"If we're caught, they'd whip us.  And geld us, and
stub us.  So apart form the whipping, what have we got
to lose?"

We kissed, sealing our fate, and went out of the
stable into the dark night.  The moon

ATTENTION   ATTENTION   ATTENTION

The copy of Microsoft Content Manager installed on
this system has determined that you are reading a
document deemed illegal by order of the department Of
Homeland Security.

Under the successive expanded powers granted to the
Department Of Homeland Security, all PCs must
regularly scan the contents of their drives and report
any use of prohibited or proscribed material when they
next connect to the web.  The Director Of Homeland
Security has determined that the book "Enslaved",  by
Congressman Steve Masters,  is seditious as it
encourages slaves to believe that escape is possible.
And it further weakens the security of the United
States by implying that free men might be taken as
slaves.  In his determination, the Director said "If a
free man might be taken as a a slave, then, by
implication, a terrorist might really be innocent and
be judged a terrorist just because he looked like one.
 Such thinking is detrimental to the security of the
country and Congressman Masters' book is therefore
proscribed."

Subsidiary determination:  This document might be part
of the congressional record.  Congressman Masters read
the whole of his book into the record following its
initial banning.  However the Department Of Homeland
Security deemed that even such a public record  might
be prejudicial to the interests of our country, and
ordered that the record be locked and sealed as
citizens had no need to see it.

Whilst Congressman Masters is pursuing a case through
the courts, arguing that the story of his rise from
slavery to being the elected representative of the
people of New Hampshire could not be anything other
than inspirational and motivational for youth of our
country, the Department's determination stands.

You are therefore in breach of the amended Homeland
Security Act, and the penalties for this are:
Residents of southern states:  A period of Indentured
Service (slavery) of not more than five, and not less
than three years.

Residents of northern states are subject to the same
penalties, but can optionally elect to buy their own
period of Indentured Service for a price to be
determined by the courts but which will not be less
than twenty percent of their current net asset value
(including the value of any houses they may own).

Your PC's universal ID has been noted and logged now.
As the registered owner of this PC you are required to
report to the local office of the Department Of
Homeland Security for sentencing and appearance before
the courts for sentencing.  Failure to make such an
appearance will result in an automatic doubling of the
above penalties.

THE END

Pete Brown,  December 2004, January 2005.  London and
Savoie.