Date: Sun, 13 May 2007 13:18:28 +1000 (EST)
From: mickmack999 <mickmack999@yahoo.com.au>
Subject: The Reluctant Slave - Part 2 & Part 2.1

(m/m, m/t, forced, slavery, nc, oral, anal)


This story is (c) Copyright 2007, by MickMack. All World Wide Rights
Reserved.

The story below is the epic tale of a totally fictional event. Your
feedback would be greatly appreciated. It is gay erotica and is intended
to be read by persons who are 18 years of age or older, and by persons
that enjoy gay erotica.

The material covered in this story and all other accompanying parts of
this story are fictional. Any similarities to persons living or dead are
pure coincidence.

Please Note: To those who like reading my material, I apologise for
taking so much time in getting this story written and posted. It is a bit
off the usual subject matter I play around with, but hopefully you'll
enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Please send your comments to: mickmack999@yahoo.com.au







The Reluctant Slave

The Life and Times of Brad Cahill - Pleasure Slave

*****************************************************************

2.         Evan Morgan - Family Unity

(From the Private Diary of Evan Morgan)

*****************************************************************

Sometimes I think I'm just so naïve. So stupidly gullible!

Like the time when I was told Brad Cahill's parents had suddenly taken
him out of school so he could attend a relative's funeral somewhere on
the east coast.

At the time I found out, I remember feeling heart-felt sympathy for him
and his family's recent loss, but I also looked forward to when he
returned to school. In my own closeted way, I missed Brad, especially
watching his handsome muscular body working out at football training, as
well as our regular talks when we bumped into each other.

And I can tell you truthfully that I didn't connect his sudden departure
to anything my brother Noel might have been involved in, even though
Brad's departure for the family funeral occurred the day after their
fight.

How could I have known anything was out of the ordinary, that something
was terribly wrong?

How was I supposed to know that Noel had done something so horrendous
that would shock and horrify me when I eventually found out?

Anyway, as I was soon to learn, my whole life was about to be turned
upside down as I was forced to make a decision that would ultimately
alienate me from my parents and turn me against my own big brother Noel.

My parents, Senator James and Gracie Morgan, my eldest brother Noel and I
lived in the most expensive area of town. Our family's considered one of
the oldest and richest families to have settled in the region more than
200 years ago, and as such, we're held in the highest regard.

In fact, my family was here decades before slavery eventually reached its
penultimate peak in the mid 1800's, before finally being abolished at
the end of the 19th century. And of course, my family was also one of the
first families in our state to immediately benefit financially when
slavery was re-introduced just over 30 years ago.

And when you think about it, 30 years really isn't that long ago.
Everyone who was young then still remembers how all the territories voted
to re-instate slavery, except for three states who abstained, and as
such, New Holland, Concordia and Levanda remained slave free. In fact, it
is actually illegal to own slaves there, or to try and enslave anyone.

Thing is, I'd never really thought that much about slavery, or voluntary
indentured service, because both Noel and I were born into a highly
structured society that already prized and indulged in the lucrative
commerce that arises from an international export import slave policy.

In our house alone, we have over 50 slaves. We have 14 house slaves, 6
pleasure slaves belonging to my father and brother, and 30 field slaves.

Anyway as Noel and I grew up, it was only natural that we'd learn there
is a class and caste structure that automatically dictates where all
individual members of our society fit.

Unfortunately, I can honestly say I really took very little interest in
how the slaves on our own property were managed. I knew we had an
overseer, Mr Hendricks, a huge stout weather-beaten faced middle aged man
whose permanent scowl scared me at times.

It was his job to ensure the highest level of discipline among our slaves
at all times. Although he was an expert in his field, a professional
slave and RFID microchip and security technician, I must admit I'd never
actually witnessed any disciplinary measures meted out by him.

To me, even at an early age, it all just seemed far too barbarous, and my
dear mother always kept me sheltered from the harsh realities of slavery
within our modern society.

Of course, because of our family's very high social status within the
state, I wasn't blinded to the fact it was our obligation to own and
care for a large number of very carefully trained well disciplined slaves
within our household. I mean, who else would have looked after our daily
needs, and work on the huge plantations we owned.

In fact, I'd always had an elderly slave whom I've known all my life to
look after my needs. To me, he was my personal valet, and his name was
Monet. A gentle very obedient and humble old man, he dressed in the
traditional slave outfit, a respectable knees-length loin cloth, and
waited on and cared for me in ways my parents never had.

When I woke up in the morning, he was always there to wash me and dress
me. When I got back from school, he'd make sure my after-school clothes
were laid out neatly and ready for me to change into. When I was ready
for bed, he was always there to tuck me in and read me stories from my
favourite fictional fantasy novels.

There was nothing sexual in it at all. He was just my `friend'. Even
though father and Noel insisted I get myself my own personal pleasure
slave, I just found the idea far too disgusting for my liking.

Also, I had an unfounded fear that if I did go out and select myself a
pleasure slave, then everyone would somehow know my biggest secret, that
I was gay. I know it was stupid of me, but it was a concern I had at the
time.

Of course Noel would sneer at me and call me a prude, but I also liked to
think of myself as romantic, secretly waiting for the right person to
come along and sweep me off my feet. I also knew that wasn't going to
happen, especially in our enlightened times.

And even though Noel and my father always said Monet was just an aging
useless slave past his prime, I didn't care one bit, as I don't think I
really ever thought of him as just a `slave'.

To me, he had always been there whenever I needed his kindness. To me, he
was part of our family, a trusted loyal friend I could always speak to.

Noel, on the other hand, owned an extremely good looking young male
slave, whose duties were to look after every one of my brother's daily
needs. Ever since Noel had turned 15, my brother had suddenly insisted on
selling off his much older childhood slave.

And with my parents blessing, he'd gone out and bought himself one of
those very expensive pleasure slaves. A year younger than my brother,
Noel had named him August, based solely on the fact he'd bought the
slave in the month of August.

August was the same height as Noel, gorgeously lean and slender, and
because he was kept naked at all times, you couldn't but notice he had a
rather long and thick circumcised penis. Noel, of course, treated him
like a favourite pet most of the time, even letting August grow his
auburn coloured hair which the young slave was ordered to keep short and
stylised at all times.

From the day he'd brought August home, he'd loudly proclaimed I was
henceforth barred from his bedroom, never to enter without his
permission. Not that that meant anything to me, as I never entered his
room anyway, for fear of eliciting his ever-growing fury and cruelty.

As it is, I've always felt sorry for August because I could tell he
lived in constant fear of my brother. I can only imagine what vile things
Noel did to him in the privacy of his own bedroom.

So it was on that fateful day, a month after my high school sports hero
Brad Cahill had knocked Noel unconscious that my life was forever
changed.

On that day, just before the sun had set, Noel had come crashing into my
bedroom, rambling on like a lunatic, shouting at me excitedly to follow
him to the main study.

"Come on slack-ass! Boy, have I got a surprise for you?" Noel had
rattled on, urging me to hurry up and follow him. But when I'd cringed
away from him in distrust and confusion, unable to understand his
enthusiasm and near manic eagerness, he'd lifted his eyes to the ceiling
in mock anguish, laughed as he called me a fucking wimp, and then grabbed
me painfully by my arm and quickly dragged me towards the main study room
on the ground floor of our large 22 room estate house.

To me, it was so unreal. Here he was, eagerly ushering me along the great
hallway, continually babbling on to me in a hurried yet friendly, even
brotherly manner, as if we were close buddies or the like.

In a sense, I couldn't believe it was my brother rushing me down the
marble stairs and into the study, wanting me for some obscure reason to
share in whatever good fortune had befallen him.

When I entered the room, I instantly noted two new young slaves standing
naked in the centre of the room. As required by law, they were in the
traditional mandatory slave position, heads bowed low, hands behind their
backs; legs spread wide apart and hairless crotches thrust forward to
expose their fully erect penises and testicles to everyone in the room.

Straight away I felt uncomfortable, and even a little nervous.

What was Noel up to? He knew I wouldn't be interested in inspecting any
new slaves he may have purchased.

As I took in the view and listened to Noel as he commenced explaining the
incredible beauty and value of the two new slaves standing before us, I
immediately turned my head towards him, a silent plea in my suspicious
eyes demanding to know why he had brought me here.

Then I noticed for the first time both my father and our overseer Mr
Hendricks, huddled closely together, talking in hushed tones. Then, when
my father realised I was also in the room with them, he smiled, tilted
his head in that way he has of acknowledging me, and quickly moved
forward to commence a more detailed inspection of the two new slaves.

Now I was really confused. My whole family knew I had no real interest in
any slave issues that affected our household. Again I tried to get
Noel's attention so I could find out what was happening. But as was
Noel's nature, he offhandedly ignored my silent gestures, and continued
eagerly to highlight the remarkable qualities and youthfulness of the two
new slaves.

Sighing heavily, I knew I'd have to wait until Noel had calmed down. I
figured I'd probably be here for a while, so I turned my attention back
to the slaves.

And as I briefly ran my eyes over them, I suddenly found myself wondering
just how much money would have been paid to buy them. Even with my
limited knowledge on slave induction, training and standard slave
etiquette, I knew immediately these two weren't your average field or
house slaves, and they must be worth a fortune.

A cursory glance over their smooth hairless bodies revealed their
flawless milky white skin was still unmarked, showing no signs of
branding, or any other decorative slave tattooing. This was also a
definite sign they must have been recently enslaved.

And then it struck me that slaves this expensive probably wouldn't be
joining the ranks of our other well-trained estate slaves. Maybe Noel had
bought them as an investment to resell on to make a tidy profit. It was
the only logical answer I could think of for their being here in the
first place.

Of course I could tell without even seeing the faces of the two new
slaves that they must definitely be very good looking.

Then I watched as Noel stepped confidently up in front of the tallest
more muscular slave, before turning around to me and impatiently
motioning me forward.

"Come on bro. I bought one of these for you too. You can even pick out
which one you want. Besides, it's time you discarded that old piece of
trash you've had for all these years and got something fresh and young
to serve your needs now." Noel stated happily, smiling hugely as he
reached down and fondled the large hairless low hanging testicles of the
bald headed slave standing before him.

Even though Noel's continued actions of fondling the slave's rock-hard
erection and low hanging balls was embarrassing me, I must admit what
he'd just said left me in a dizzying state of shock. I shook my head.

Had I heard him right? Had he really gone out and bought one of these
slaves for me? Was that what this was all about? Instantly I found myself
struggling to believe Noel would do anything bordering on kindness for
me.

I even remember after the initial shock had passed and he'd shaken his
head to indicate that I had heard him correctly, how I found myself
holding back an unexpected welling of tears. Tears made up of renewed
brotherly love and pride, an unswerving gratitude towards my big brother
Noel.

"It's alright Evan. It's time we started acting like brothers. Time we
learnt to get along together. That's why I bought these slaves, so you
and I can both proudly show off our newest, most expensive property
whenever we go out. What do you say?" Noel said sagely.

My father, half listening in to what Noel was saying, turned around from
the slave he was inspecting, and heartily slapped his eldest son on his
back.

"I'm proud of you, son. In fact, I'm very pleased to see you acting so
maturely by taking on this huge responsibility. I was worried at first
when you told me you'd bought these new slaves without my permission,
but I'm mightily proud of you for taking the initiative."

Then father turned towards me smiling grandly.

"And Evan, I do hope you'll make me proud too son, by accepting your
brother's very generous gift." My father had said in a kind, caring
voice, as he stood there gazing at both Noel and me.

Again I was nearly overwhelmed.

It had been such a long time since I'd heard my father talking so
affectionately and kindly to me. I couldn't help myself as I eagerly
shook my head up and down, while still trying to stop myself from crying
with joy.

"Well then, take your pick, bro. Which one do you want?" Noel asked,
gently pushing me forward so I stood before the slave he'd just been
fondling.

At first I just stood there staring at the two of them.

"Come on, bro. You've got to inspect them properly before you choose
one, especially if you intend to bed him down every night from now on."
Noel laughed, encouraging me to reach out and feel the enslaved
merchandise.

Noel's comments made me turn bright red with embarrassment. And then it
hit me. These were pleasure slaves, male sex slaves specifically trained
to please and heighten their master's sexual enjoyment!

Like I said earlier on, sex between free citizen men and male slaves was
an important and accepted part of our society, so much so it was publicly
endorsed and vigorously encouraged as one of the most important and
positive ways for an owner to instill his complete dominates over their
slave.

And now I was really curious, because these two slaves were unlike any
pleasure slaves I'd ever seen advertised on TV or in the glossy sales
brochures and catalogues. Nearly all pleasure slaves I'd seen were
pierced with large ornate metal studs and ring in every orifice of their
bodies, and usually tattooed and marked with elaborate designs so as to
emphasise their special sex slave status. These two had none at all.

Shaking my head in confusion I turned my attention back to the one
standing before me.

But to be honest, I didn't know what to do. I'd never inspected a slave
before and I didn't know what to check for. Also, on a more intimate
level, the erect penis on the slave before me was making me feel very
inadequate.

To me it was huge, and it made me fully aware of how I've always been
very modest about my own nakedness, constantly worrying about the size of
my dick and hoping it would eventually grow a lot bigger as I got older.

Fact was I just wasn't hung like Noel, who tended to like showing off
his own large seven and a half inch tackle whenever he was in the school
gym showers. Also, he had no qualms fondling the genitals of any male
slave that grabbed his attention, always wanting to weigh them and
measure their length and girth, flaccid and erect, as he tried to
ascertain if they would make good breeding stock for our stable of estate
slaves.

I know Noel's always had aspirations to enter the corporate slave
industry after high school and university, and it was common knowledge on
weekends Noel and his close group of friends was always down at the local
slave markets checking out any new slaves.

For myself, even though I saw naked slaves all the time, and their nudity
meant nothing to me whatsoever, I still found it very hard to reach down
and cup and fondle their genitals, as I found it to be very demeaning,
especially if other people were watching what I was doing.

Also, I couldn't imagine what the slaves must have thought and felt as
they were being inspected!

And this time was no different for me either. In fact, it was even worse
than I'd expected, as I was fully aware of my father, the overseer Mr
Hendricks and Noel watching intently as I gingerly reached my hand
forward.

At first I felt flustered and a little ashamed of how I was reacting, so
taking a deep breath to dispel my discomfort, I carefully cupped the
young slave's huge plump hairless balls in my palm. The heavy weight of
his large hairless scrotum in the small palm of my hand left me feeling a
little disoriented, as did the musky, masculine scent that wafted from
his naked body, especially from his crotch.

More disconcerting for me was the seven inch length of this young
slave's fully erect penis, sticking up nearly vertical to his flat
hairless stomach, straining up past his belly button. And as I moved my
hand up and stroked the silky length of his rigid youthful manhood with
my fingers, I suddenly found my own dick barring up and tenting the front
of my pants against my will.

Shame swept through me as I immediately let go and stared at my brother
and father red-faced.

"Don't worry bro. It's just a normal human reaction you're having.
Happens to the best of us free citizen folk, right Dad?" Noel said with
a knowing smile on his face.

My father heartily agreed, also smiling expansively as he explained in
detail how having a slave's shaved balls in the palm of your hand can
create a natural aphrodisiac affect on any free citizen checking out his
or her newest slave.

Suddenly a question struck me. For the entire time the two slaves had
been standing before us, they'd each maintained a full blown erection
that never seemed to sag or go flaccid at any time as they displayed
themselves.

"How do they keep their erections all the time? I mean, it must be
really uncomfortable and painful for them to be like this all the time."
I asked.

"Good question Evan and one I hope you never repeat in the presence of
our womenfolk." My father answered quickly with an amused chuckle.

Then Noel stepped up next to me smiling, actually happy that I was
finally taking an interest in something that was probably common
knowledge to all free citizens.

"At the back of their necks, injected into their spines, the state-owned
slave enforcement authorities have implanted a very tiny micro-chip. As
soon as it attaches itself to the inside of the upper spinal column, the
micro-chip instantly starts acting like a mini CPU. It then releases
thousands of new commands that override all existing brain messages to
the musculatory system, effectively taking over the slave's entire
body." Noel said excitedly.

"What you then have is total control of your slave and what he does. The
micro-chip, designed to the owner's unique specifications will then
literally rewire the slave's mind, downloading hundreds of thousands of
new audio and visual instructions into the slave's brain. The newly
enslaved will know within seconds exactly how to act in his new status as
a slave and how to carry out his new duties to the best of his
abilities." he continued.

"In effect as soon as any person is enslaved and then micro-chipped,
they are instantly transformed into a perfectly obedient, submissive
slave. It's what we free citizens term the best combination of our
modern slave technology with state-of-the-art science."

"Of course, the micro-chipped slave will always retain their own
memories of their past as well as the ability to think for themselves,
which admittedly must be very hard for them. Can you even imagine what it
must be like to be fully aware of what's happening to you but being
unable to control any of your own actions?" Noel said, shaking his head
in amazement.

"Anyhow, in essence they have no willpower whatsoever over what they are
forced to do, and there's nothing they can do about it but obey their
owner's completely. Most importantly though, industry leaders, slave
merchants and traders and slave auction venders can now tailor-design
their own specialised slaves, specialty slaves that are capable of doing
whatever their new duties require of them in their newly entrusted slave
positions." Noel rambled on, before turning his attention back to the
two young slaves before him.

"Now, whenever these slaves are ordered to assume the mandatory slave
position and thrust out their groins for our inspection, the chip
automatically sends a powerful electronic impulse to their brains. This
instantly releases the necessary neuro-hormones, peptides and proteins
required for them to maintain a raging, rock-hard erection. And they'll
continue to stay hard until we eventually tell them to relax." Noel
explained.

"And don't worry. They don't feel any pain from having an erection for
so long, as the micro-chip negates any discomfort they may feel. In fact,
it does the exact opposite by keeping them in an extremely high state of
arousal at all times. Eventually they'll become so used to getting an
erection within seconds of being ordered, that the micro-chip's
continued use to keep them aroused will eventually become redundant."

"Also, you can actually refine the commands as well. Just verbally
select the pleasure level you want the slave to be set at, and then tell
the slave what you want. The micro-chip will instantly kick in and make
it happen. Now stand aside a fraction and watch this." Noel said as he
pulled me out of the way of the tall young naked slave standing before
me.

Then Noel turned back towards the slave, and in a firm commanding voice,
he ordered the slave to ejaculate.

In less than a few seconds and as I watched in growing awe, the young
slave, with his head still bowed low to his chest, suddenly shook all
over uncontrollably. And as every perfectly defined muscle on his body
twitched and spasmed, he whimpered and moaned loudly as he thrust his
crotch out as far as he could, and ejaculated the largest amount of semen
I have ever witnessed in my life.

"See! Pretty cool, don't you think? Also he's still as hard as an iron
bar. I could get him to cum continuously over and over again if I wanted
him to." Noel smiled wisely as he saw how impressed I was by this little
demonstration of total dominance and control.

"Not only that, the micro-chip provides an added bonus of continually
stimulating their prostates. This means the slaves will always be
receptive and usually begging to be anally penetrated whenever their
owners want to use them."

"Thankfully it also makes their anal passages clench and unclench for
hours on end, while cleansing out their bowels at the same time. Now
slaves don't have to exercise their pleasure holes to keep themselves
ultra tight, or constantly have enemas to keep themselves clean. The
micro-chip does it automatically for them."

"Also, micro-chipped slaves no longer have to be taken out and exercised
on a regular basis. The same process occurs whereby the micro-chip
automatically sends out electrical impulses to every muscle fibre in the
body. It stimulates them every few seconds so that the slave's muscles
maintain their physical shape and appearance without having to undergo
strenuous exercising. I've actually seen very unhealthy and obese slaves
become slim taut and physically fit in a matter of weeks." Noel added.

"Of course the micro-chip also acts as a GPS locator and neural
punishment device. If a slave were ever to consider doing a runner on us,
which is unthinkable, we can instantly track him by satellite and find
them no matter where he tried to flee to. And if they ever need to be
punished, which is also very unlikely, all you have to do is indicate the
level of pain you want applied and the micro-chip does the rest."

"Now you know why the government banned the use of all those old
primitive style whips and paddles, except for those used in
state-sponsored BSDM slave brothels. The old style punishment tools have
now been completely phased out in favour of the new micro-chip implants.
Again, it's far more effective and doesn't leave a slave's skin
damaged and scarred, thereby reducing its resale price." Noel stated.

And then a multitude of questions hit me as I ran my gaze over them.

"Why don't these two slaves have any slave piercings or tattoos? And
why haven't they been branded with our family crest and fitted with cock
rings and butt-plugs?" I asked in a rush.

Noel looked at me and raised his left eyebrow.

"Evan, there might be hope for you yet! Only kidding, but I must admit,
those are some really good questions!" he replied with a voice bordering
on grudging respect. Even father and Mr Hendricks were smiling, patiently
waiting for Noel to continue.

"Firstly, these two fine youthful specimens standing before you will
only ever be used as pleasure slaves. Evan, to have them branded with our
family crest, and then pierced and tattooed would automatically result in
their current and future market value dropping by more than a half.
That's not good!" Noel said, emphasising his point by running the palm
of his hand over the smooth hairless chest of the youngest looking slave.

"Secondly, the micro-chips implanted in these two slaves have been
electronically configured to identify our family as their rightful
owners, and any free citizen who has any doubts about their enslavement
or who owns them can use their personalised palm-held slave scanners for
confirmation."

"Also, the micro-chip will do a far better job of prominently displaying
their genitals when we take them out to show them off in public. I can
guarantee you that no permanently fixed metal ring or external gadget
secured at the base of their genitals can compete with the micro-chip
when it comes to totally controlling and displaying their erections to
any free citizen who may wish to inspect them. No cumbersome foreign
metallic or ceramic objects to get in the way." my brother continued.

"And lastly, butt-plugs were only ever used by a slave's owner to
reduce the incidences of a slave shitting himself at the most
inconvenient times. Believe me, it's not a good look if you're at an
important high school function, business meeting or traveling long
distance, and your slave suddenly needs to take a crap and can't control
his bowel movements." Noel said.

"But most important of all Evan! The micro-chip is an all-purpose slave
device, specifically designed to make a slave do anything you want,
regardless of his own personal feelings or concerns. It will instantly
take control of his mind and body in direct response to any set of
instructions you require." Noel finished saying expansively, smiling
widely at his own words as he looked at me.

"Now why don't you finish off your inspection of these slaves, and make
your choice. I'll answer all your other questions later on."

Immediately I returned my attention back to the tall young slave who'd
just cum. I realised he must have been around my own age, but he was
taller than me by at least five inches. Gingerly I ran my fingers over
his amazingly flat washboard stomach, then slid the palm of my hand up to
his extraordinarily muscular chest, absently pinching his large pouting
nipples as I marveled at how smooth and hairless his skin was.

The other shorter slave still stood in the slave position, head bowed
down so low his chin touched his chest, hands held clasped behind his
back, and his groin thrust forward as far as he could so his erection
jutted out for all to see. For some reason, he looked a lot younger than
the one I was inspecting, maybe somewhere around 15 or 16 years of age
and about my own height.

Again I couldn't help it when my own dick stiffened rock-hard in my
pants, but thankfully this time I had my back to both Noel and my father.
There was no way I wanted them to see my pants tenting out again in this
most lewd of ways.

The slave in front of me definitely had the biggest cock, but I could see
that the youngest slave next to him also had a large thick erect dick
with fat hairless balls.

Looking at both their penises, I knew they were definitely bigger than
me, and unfortunately, that thought tended to deflate my own ego and my
raging erection straight away, as I suddenly felt a wave of inadequacy
swamp through me.

Eventually I returned my full attention to the slave standing before me,
and as I once again admired this tall young slave's incredibly firm
muscular physique, I reached up and lifted his bowed bald head up off his
chin.

Yes, he was extraordinarily handsome in a youthful boyish way. His
brilliant sad blue eyes looked me in the face, and I knew this was the
one for me.

If Noel wanted me to select one, this was the slave I'd choose, also
because he definitely reminded me of my high school hero and role-model
Brad Cahill.

In my mind, as I suddenly thought about Brad, I began fantasising about
sleeping with this slave and pretending it was him.

"Noel, I'd like this one please." I said shyly, my face red with
embarrassment as I looked into the gorgeous face of the slave who would
now look after all my untapped sexual needs, help Monet dress me and keep
my bedroom clean at all times, and then escort me to school everyday.

*****************************************************************

2.1        Noel Morgan - A Diabolical Plan Decided

(Compiled from the Confidential Testimonies of Noel Morgan)

*****************************************************************

A lot of people think I needlessly pick on my youngest brother, always
heaping unnecessary scorn, ridicule and violence on him in the most cruel
and insidious ways possible.

For some reason, they don't appreciate that what I'm doing for Evan is
nothing more than trying to get him to be a man. I want him to take
responsibility for what he is and who he is, accept that his family
legacy demands that he become far more motivated and stop acting like a
queer pussy.

If I told you that my constant harassing of Evan has only ever been in
his best interest, and that I actually love my brother very much, you'd
probably laugh in my face and tell me I'm nothing but a bare-faced liar.

Well, to be honest, I don't give a flying fuck what anyone else thinks,
because the reality is, Evan has to one day take his rightful place next
to me in our family dynasty.

Evan has to start looking towards his future and start toughening up. The
time for him to grow up is now, and I'll do anything to break him out of
his pitiful wimpy complacency, so he's ready to help me run the family
estate when our father eventually hands over those vast responsibilities
to both of us.

So in a way, it was fortuitous the day I was teaching Evan a lesson on
how to be a man, trying to get him to stand up for himself against me in
front of my friends, that Brad Cahill, that sleazy faggot whore, sidled
up behind me and pushed me away from my own brother.

Yeah! I can admit it! I went ballistic. All I could see at that moment
were rivers of blood, with this tall blond-haired nancy-girl's dead
carcass quickly swept up and carried off to oblivion.

I mean, how dare he interfere and show me up in front of all my friends!

All of a sudden, I found myself swinging my fists as I lunged at him. And
then just as quickly, a million starbursts exploded in my head and
suddenly the lights went out.

I can't tell you how ashamed I was when I came too seconds later! To
find myself covered in dust and dirt, lying on my back as a group of
about forty students gathered around me laughed at my complete
humiliation at the hands of that fucking faggot-girl.

And as I'd looked over at my brother Evan, I watched in fury as even he
tried not to laugh, a smirk raising the corners of his mouth.

It's funny, how in moments like these, the light goes on, and you know
what you have to do. It happened to me as I listened red-faced to the
laughter and applause that swirled around me.

Within a fraction of a second, I knew it was time to smash the false
image erected around Brad Cahill off his self appointed pedestal.

I knew in that instant, it was now time to put an end to the queer's sad
belief he was one of us and his interference of my family's affairs as
well. But more importantly, I knew it would be Evan who would be
instrumental in finally teaching the cunt where his place in society
really lay.

With a calmness and clarity of mind that startled me, and keeping my
cool, I swatted away with disdain the proffered hand the faggot-girl
extended to me as I struggled to lift myself up onto unsteady feet.

And as I walked away, refusing to acknowledge the fucking turd's
condescending comments that we should just shake hands and let bygones be
bygones, I vowed to myself that within the week, that slut's pussy would
be all mine.

Then we'd all see who was laughing.

But what really surprised me was the painful erection I'd suddenly
sprouted as I'd stood up and stared with rage into the brilliant blue
eyes of my nemesis.

Suddenly I found myself intensely attracted to him. I found myself
thinking how extraordinarily good looking he was, marveling at how he
even appeared massively powerful in a strange sexual way.

Immediately I shook my head, dispelling the frightening gay-like thoughts
from my mind, putting it down to the knock to my head.

Of course, as I walked away feeling confused while at the same time
silently cursing the cunt, I had to smile as I don't think people
realise just how powerful the Morgan family really is.

Silly when you do think about it, because all you have to do is look up
the business editions of the region's local newspapers to find out
Morgan Global Industries owns two thirds of the state. My father is
reputed to have a net worth of over $28 billion, with both Evan and I
sitting comfortably on $2.5 billion each.

So it honesty wasn't all that hard to work out how to deal with
cunt-face.

Of course, by the time I got home, back on track and now seething with
rage, I not only wanted to destroy the interfering cunt and all he stood
for, but his entire family too by this stage. Not all that hard to do
either, especially if you've got the right connections and a lot of
money.

For me, it only took one phone call, and my scheme was set in motion.

As I'd anticipated, the Federal Internal Tax Office (FITO) suddenly
received an anonymous tip-off and began to investigate Sam Cahill,
Brad's father, for not having declared an undisclosed amount of income
22 years ago.

By the next morning, charges were drawn up against Cahill senior, charges
that would see the old man and his whole family end up enslaved.

But for me, it still wasn't good enough that I had beaten that
queer-girl. Once he'd been enslaved, I needed Brad Cahill to know that I
was personally involved in his and his family's downfall and
destruction.

I needed him to come begging on bended knee before me, admitting to me
that he was nothing but a queer girlie-boy, begging to suck my hard uncut
cock like the faggot he really is, and for him to do it in front of all
my best friends.

So it was decided. Like I've said faggot-girl and his family's arrest
and enslavement was so easy to orchestrate. My contact knew what I
wanted, and pressed the necessary buttons that would send the Cahill
family into a living nightmare.

And once the family was in custody and Sam Cahill had signed the
appropriate legal documents, then the State Slave Enforcement Agency
would move in and pick up Brad from the school dorm apartment he was
staying on campus.

Of course, there were only three conditions I demanded, demands that I
was quite happy to pay handsomely for!

Firstly, none of the three Cahill boys was to be physical scarred in any
way. These would not be your typical `run of the mill' slaves, so I
wanted their skin intact and silky smooth as the day they were born when
they were eventually handed over to me. Oh, I didn't mind if they were
slapped around and beaten up and bruised a bit, but I did not want their
skin cut or disfigured in any way.

Secondly, upon their arrest, I wanted faggot-girl and his two younger
brothers to be immediately micro-chipped and then repeatedly raped and
gang-banged. I wanted them totally clear headed and aware of what was
happening to them, terrified of their predicament, but most importantly,
unable to stop their young teenage bodies from responding
enthusiastically and eagerly as they were sodomised over and over again.

Thirdly, their whole ordeal, every second of it, was to be video
recorded, and the original copies of their arrest, enslavement and slave
training sent to me on a daily basis. As for his parents, well, I didn't
give a damn what happened to them.

And if all went to plan, it would be faggot-girl who would come to me on
his knees, begging and pleading for me to help him and his brothers from
the nightmare they were enmeshed in. Then I would make sure he suffered
untold mental and physical anguish as I plucked the last vestiges of his
young proud teenage masculinity from him.

Now I ask you? Have you ever watched any of those late-night cable TV
channels that show reality cop and law enforcement programs all night
long?

If you have, you can imagine such a raid being carried out against the
Cahill residence late one winter's night. Although Brad was staying at
the high school student dorm campus that evening, it was fun to watch
video footage of the rest of his family; his parents and two brothers,
bleary eyed and terrified, confronted by 40 armed police and FITO agents.

Video footage of Sam Cahill and his wife bundled out of their cozy warm
beds, stripped naked, handcuffed with their hands behind their backs,
gagged and blinkered, with small electronic plugs inserted deep in their
ears to remove all surrounding auditory sounds, as they were quickly frog
marched out to a waiting armoured police van, where they were thrown in
the back and taken away for interrogation.

More exciting was the incredible close up footage of the two young
teenage brothers blubbering and wailing as they were dragged out of the
bedroom they shared by 20 armed agents, their pajamas and skimpy jockey
brief underwear painfully ripped off their young firm youthful teenage
bodies.

And as they wept and tried to cover their shameful nakedness with their
trembling hands, the full frame video captures zeroing in as the
petrified boys were roughly thrown onto their stomachs on the carpeted
floor of their small lounge room, where the team leader of the heavily
armed police and FITO agents carefully injected the slave microchips into
the back of their spines.

I can tell you the only existing video, which I own, is absolutely
fascinating viewing. Especially as the armed men grabbed the boys' legs
and arms, pulled them apart and held them spread-eagled as each uniformed
man took their time brutally sodomising them over and over again.

Back then I remember viewing it for the first time, and at some point as
August was sucking me off I thrilled at the scene of the two naked
sobbing brothers suddenly falling silent, completely confused and
horrified that their bodies were now vigorously responding to the vicious
anal and oral rapes they were being subjected to.

And when the men had finally finished, how the shocked and stunned boys
were wrenched up onto their feet to be hurried along on the tips of their
toes with three very thick latex-covered probing fingers shoved all the
way up their severely stretched cum-filled rectums into a waiting police
vehicle. It was then that I decided I wanted to own them as well as their
big brother, faggot-girl.

How my mind leapt with hideous joy as I began to fantasise about all the
erotically juicy things I could do to them once they were in my clutches,
how I could use the two younger brothers to completely break
faggot-girl's will once and for all.

Again, it's strange to remember just how quickly events moved back then.

It had taken me only one afternoon from the time queer-girl had punched
me in the face and knocked me flat on my back, to have my contact get the
ball rolling.

And by late Thursday evening and the following Friday morning, the whole
family had been arrested, brought before the courts and each family
member condemned to the maximum penalty of `slavery for life'.

It just goes to show you how powerful the Morgan family name is here in
New Texico and what enough money thrown around can really buy.

Both the parents, of no value whatsoever to anyone, were immediately sold
after their interrogation and enslavement to a large bauxite mining
outfit, where they would probably live out the remainder of their now
severely reduced mortal existence. For all anyone knows, they're
probably dead now and good riddance.

And then there was faggot-girl and his two brothers?

I immediately offered an astronomical figure to purchase them straight
away, an amount which the courts found to be more than generous.

Within two hours they were legally mine, and as had been arranged with
the courts approval, my three new slaves were immediately transported to
the state-owned `Regional Slave Induction and Training Facility'. Known
as one of the state's most progressive slave training centres in the
country, they publicly guaranteed immediate results within seven days, or
your money returned.

There my new slaves would undergo a four week intensive slave training
program that would break their wills and their minds in preparation for
their next ordeal, which was to be delivered to their new master - me.

I know it sounds so harsh, especially since the micro-chipping actually
makes slave training unnecessary. But the truth is, micro-chipping
doesn't take away free will, or make a slave completely loyal and
obedient to their owners.

Oh, they do what they're told and do it very well, but all slave owners
want their property to truly understand the importance of servicing their
masters with unwavering obedience.

And that's what I wanted for Brad. Fact is I wanted faggot-girl's very
spirit completely broken before he was handed over to me. I wanted him
cowering at my feet, knowing he was my slave and I had beaten him, and
that his very existence depended on my good will.

But a week before they would eventually be handed back to me, I wanted to
see them at the Slave Training Centre.

It was important I gauged their initial reaction to me, especially
queer-girl's, so I could then lay the foundations whereby Evan would
assist me in making Brad into nothing more than a broken down useless gay
pleasure slave, and for faggot-girl to help me in directing Evan down a
future path I needed him to travel.


To Be Continued...

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(If you liked the story, please send feedback to
mickmack999@yahoo.com.au)