Date: Thu, 26 May 2005 03:44:26 -0700 (PDT)
From: Pete Brown <petebrownuk@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Labourer, Part 17

THE LABOURER  by Pete Brown.  petebrownuk @ yahoo.com

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

Part 17

I lay there a s Master Rob fucked me.  At one time I'd
have been utterly humiliated at taking a man's dick,
especially the dick of the guy who was my oldest
buddy.  But now it was all right - Mister Rooney
wanted me to, and so I did.  And when Rob had
finished, I thrilled as Mister Rooney dropped his
pants, then his boxers ,and I saw his long, thick dick
spring into life as he approached me.

"Are you ready to take me, Steve?"

"Of course, Mister Rooney", I said.  "Do you want me
to stay like this, or could I ask you if I could turn
over, please sir?  I'd like to watch you, sir, as you
use me, sir.."

He smiled, and said "Yes, Steve - we might as well
both enjoy it!  On your back, then...."

Gratefully I rolled over and lay there, then, as he
stood between my legs, I pulled them up then grasped
my ankles so that I could open up as wide as possible
to make it easy for him.  "This is a bit different
from last time", Mister Rooney said laughingly to Rob
"See, he's part of it now, joining in, making it fun
for both of us - do you remember how we had to tie his
legs back before?"

"Yes, Mike.   It shows what a whipping  can do!    Why
don't you have all the servants whipped, routinely?"

"If only I could!  But the law is quite strict!  A
five year or less contract doesn't allow for whipping,
only the cane and the tawse.  If you hadn't agreed to
the extension of his indenture, I couldn't have
ordered it at all."

At one time I'd have been furious at Rob's betrayal of
me by agreeing to the extension when I'd trusted him
to be my indenture holder, but now I felt pathetically
grateful:  if he hadn't done that, then I would not
have been able to serve Mister Rooney properly.  Maybe
Rob was no longer my best buddy, but he had acted in
my best interests."

I watched, almost detached, as Mister Rooney
positioned himself at me, then entered me.  It was a
hard, almost brutal, fucking, but I did not care -
that was what Mister Rooney chose to do, and he had
that right as I was his servant.  I saw the
expressions of control, and pleasure, and ecstasy flow
successively over his face, and somewhere inside me I
rejoiced that I was serving him in the way that
pleased him.  And when he had shot his seed deep
inside me, and leant on me, recovering, I crossed my
legs around his waist and in my desire to hold him
there, to show him that I wanted him to remain in me
for ever, I almost crushed him!

He stood up, and without asking him, I was bold enough
to get off the horse and fall to my knees in front of
him.  Putting an arm around his hairy butt to steady
myself and him, I feverishly began to lick at his dick
and balls, cleaning my cum and ass juices off him so
that they should not soil his boxers.  When his hand
ruffled through my cropped hair and he said gently
"Good boy, Steve", I felt my heart swell with pride,
and my dick stretched hard and erect out in front of
me.

When he finally pushed me away - I'd have kept
nuzzling his dick all night as I revelled in the
masculine smell of my owner coming from his crotch, he
was smiling.  "So now it's Steve's turn, don't you
think, Rob?"

"Sure.  Who shall we have him fuck?  What about that
big guy, the one a bit like him?"

"Oh, Craig... No, I want to make sure that Steve has
got the message properly.  He's behaved very well so
far, but last time when we had him fuck young Joey, I
sense he didn't like it at all..."

"...not when you had Joey fuck him, either!", Rob
interrupted, laughing cruelly.

"As you say, he seemed to have an aversion to having
sex with Joey for some reason.  So I'd like to see if
the whipping has cured him."

Still naked, he walked to the door as I knelt there,
and I admired my owner's big, thick dick as it bobbed
up and down in front of him -  I was lucky to be the
servant of such a strong, virile man. He called "Joey
- get your ass in here!", then walked back and sat
next to Master Rob on the couch.

Joey came into the room, and at a nod from Mister
Rooney, simply pulled the T - the only garment he
seemed to be allowed to wear around the house - over
his head, and stood there naked.

"Right - on your knees, in front of us... Just like
last time", Mister Rooney told him.

"Hey, Mike, as Steve is so keen to see what's going
on, why don't you have him fuck the kid in the
missionary position, so he can see the effect his dick
is having on the lad?"

"Good idea, Rob..", then looking at Joey, Mister
Rooney went on "OK, on your back instead.  And you,
Steve.... Get to work:  We want to see some action
here, some real action.  No pussyfooting around - a
good hard fuck is what we want to see."

Joey obediently rolled over, and I knelt between his
legs.  As I grasped his ankles to pull them up onto my
shoulders, I remembered what he'd said about me being
the only guy that had been nice to him, and the way
that he had risked terrible punishment to get me that
strawberry:  it may sound like a trivial kind of thing
to give a man, but the state I had been in at the
time, it was almost a life saver as it reminded me
that there were other things in life than the terrible
whipping I had been given.  And, anyway, it was
enormously valuable, considering the risks he had to
take to get it.  I was in a terrible dilemma,
therefore - I wanted to be gentle with Joey, to fuck
him carefully so that he was not hurt;  but on the
other hand, Mister Rooney had ordered me to give him a
good hard fucking, without sparing him.  Remembering
the terrible, terrible punishment he had ordered for
me, I knew that I did not dare disobey.  And when I
say "knew", it was not just the normal intellectual
way of "knowing" something to be true:  at a deep,
deep level, way down in my brain, every part of me was
telling me not to disobey Mister Rooney.

I looked at Joey lying there, so innocent, and so
trusting.  Although he was experienced at taking men,
and his hole slid open easily for me, his look of
delight at being able to have me fuck him soon turned
to one of discomfort;  and then one of acute distress,
as I slammed into him repeatedly.  At the "animal"
level my body just could not risk Mister Rooney
ordering another whipping for me.    I fucked on and
on, as in spite of recovering my erection when Mister
Rooney had played with my dick, there was something
still not right about sex for me - perhaps it was that
I was feeling something akin to castration, having had
my 'skin sliced off me, and at that same "animal"
level just knew that I was no longer a whole man, no
longer capable of having sex in the way that I had
been used to all those years.

Joey seemed to be getting more and more distressed as
my epic thrusting and slamming continued - I had one
of my strong arms wrapped around his knees to pull his
slim body right up to me, to give myself the maximum
possible amount of dick inside him.   I could see him
desperately trying not to scream out, mustering all
his will to try to lie there and take it.  But he was
banging his hands up and down on the floor as I
continued, and every fibre of me felt desperately
sorry for the ordeal that he was suffering.  Still I
fucked on - there was no sign of a climax approaching
- and the more I saw the hurt, the pain, and now the
terror on Joey's face, the worse and worse I felt.
But what could I do?  Something in me wouldn't let me
stop, wouldn't let me disobey Mister Rooney.

It was only when Joey finally began to scream,
pleading desperately for the ordeal to be over, that
something snapped inside me, and with a great cry of
my own my dick slammed into him one more time, and I
felt again that wonderful release that you get when
your balls are able to empty themselves.   Then I
stopped, panting for breath, and seeing the pathetic
body lying underneath me, began to feel very bad about
it.  Joey was whimpering softly now, as a wounded
animal does when it knows utter defeat and desolation,
and I did the only thing I could:  I pulled my dick
out of him very, very slowly so as not to hurt him
more, then bent over and picked him up.  I knelt
there, with Joey kneeling in front of me, and wrapped
my arms around him.  I gently massaged his back,
pressing his face underneath my chin so that it was
snuggled into the soft area just above my pecs, and
whispered softly - perhaps hoping that Mister Rooney
would not hear -   "there, there... It's OK now...
It's all over, Joey.  You're safe now, it's over...."

"Very touching!", I heard Master Rob call out to
Mister Rooney.  "That was the hardest fuck I've ever
witnessed, and now he's treating the kid just as if
he's a doll - or a woman!"

"You're right!", Mister Rooney snapped.  "Stop that
ridiculous crooning, Steve.  And you, Joey - stop
snivelling, and clean Steve's dick, as I like to see a
kid showing proper respect to something as big and
meaty as Steve's  cock!"

Joey did his best, and I could feel through his skinny
body his attempts to calm himself.  Gently he prised
my arms away from him, then, as I obeyed Mister
Rooney's hand gesture to get to my feet, he remained
kneeling there, took my dick in his thin fingers, and
began to suck at it hungrily, cleaning me of my cum
and his ass juice.  It felt amazing to have his nose
pushing around my dick root and my sac as his tongue
then bathed my balls, and, as he had before, he put an
arm around my butt to steady himself;  and I suppose
it was a reflex of his that made his fingers start to
pry down into my crack, searching for my hole.  I
didn't  stop him this time, though -  I no longer
cared what happened to me, as I knew that it was no
longer my choice, that my life was now totally under
the control of Mister Rooney.  He could order Joey to
fuck me again, and I would have to let it happen.  So
what did it mater if the kid got a bit of innocent
pleasure from enjoying my muscular butt as he nuzzled
and suckled our male fluids from me?

After a time Mister Rooney evidently tired of seeing
Joey's continuing humiliation in front of me, and
ordered him to stop.  He then dismissed me, sending me
back to the barracks, and I trudged along the corridor
back to climb into bed.  But even as I got there, I
knew something had changed - even though it was only a
few minutes since I had fucked Joey so brutally, after
all that abstinence my dick wanted, no, needed, to
make up for lost time!  It was tenting the sheets as
soon as I lay down, and I wondered which of the guys I
ought to call over so that I could fuck them.  I ran
through all the possibilities in my head, thinking of
the cool sensuality of Mex, the rampant trashing
around that Ted did... But just as I was making up my
mind, I heard a quiet "Steve...."

There was Joey standing my head, looking down at me.
As I was lying there, I could see up under the hem of
the T he was wearing, that was anyway only just long
enough to offer him some concealment, and could see
his dick was half-hard.  "Steve, can I sleep with you
tonight? Please...."

"No.  I don't sleep with kids."  Well, I had to say
that, didn't I?  That was how I'd always turned him
away before.

"Please, Steve.  Please.... I don't want to be by
myself now.  I'm hurting, Steve, and you know why."

"Go and get in with one of the others then.  I don't
sleep with kids."

"Please, Steve... It's you I want, Steve.  Please help
me, Steve..."

He didn't have to say the "...as I helped you" as it
was in his tone of voice.  Or was it my guilty
conscience telling me that I should have been
stronger, and should have risked offending Mister
Rooney by not fucking him hard? Even at the risk of
another whipping, just as Joey had risked punishment
to give me that strawberry?  It seemed that Joey was
braver than I was, that I was supposedly the big,
tough, strong top, and yet young, slender Joey was
more of a man than me.  I felt terrible, and I knew I
had to make amends to Joey, so I raised my arm and
lifted up the sheet.

He looked at my naked body lying there, then quickly
pulled his T over his head so that he too was entirely
naked, and almost threw himself into the bed beside
me.

It wasn't like being with Craig at all!  For one
thing, Joey wriggled and squirmed about as if he
wanted to get every square inch of his skin in contact
with me if possible.  And for another, I could easily
enfold him with one arm, unlike Craig who was so much
bigger.  But in another way they were exactly alike:
I first felt Joey's dick stabbing at my belly, then,
as he settled himself comfortably down, his ramrod
hard dick was pressed close to mine and trapped
between our two bodies.  His breath was coming in
short pants of excitement, as his fingers played over
my nips, and he again pressed his face into that area
above my pecs.  And my body knew what to do - I put a
hand on his head, and pushed his head down very, very
gently, so that he could run his hot, wet lips over my
nips, causing me to sigh with contentment, and my own
erection to become almost painful as the blood
engorged it.

He played with my body for a bit, then stopped.
"Steve, that's fantastic.... Steve, I do like you... I
know you didn't want to hurt me earlier on - I saw
something in your face, it wasn't you, Steve...  You
do like me, don't you?"

"Sure", I said as casually as I could.  But what did I
really think about him?  Sure, he was a nice enough
kid, I guess, but he was a kid - he was only sixteen,
and I was ten years older than him! I now knew I liked
men, and Joey hardly qualified; but then I remembered
what Craig had said about a man being a man if he was
old enough to be able to fuck and to take dick.  It
wasn't right, though, was it, to make him fuck me, and
to have his ass used by Mister Rooney?  I mean, a
sixteen year old ought to be at High School, enjoying
experimenting with sex with his buddies, not condemned
to servitude like this.  And then I realised two
things had changed about me - firstly, I was now
thinking it was normal for buddies at High School to
have sex together, whereas when I was there, all  I
ever did was spend a whole lot of time chasing pussy.
 And secondly, I'd just criticised Mister Rooney!
Even as I thought this, a cold sweat broke out on me:
Mister Rooney could order me to be whipped if I
displeased him, or if I was disloyal to him...

"Steve, what's the matter?"  Joey sounded alarmed, and
his face was now staring into mine.

"Hey, it's OK... I'm sorry... I was just remembering
the whipping.... "  Even as  I spoke, I could feel
myself trembling, and Joey threw his arms around me.

"It's OK, Steve... You're safe here in bed with me....
There...."  It was Joey stroking my back now, Joey
trying to comfort me!  I was supposed to be a man, and
he was a kid, and I felt ashamed of my weakness.
After a few moments, he went on "Steve, we are
buddies, aren't we?  I don't have any guys here who
are real buddies with me, but can we be buddies, like
you and Craig are?"

What could it hurt?  I muttered "Sure, we're buddies,
Joey.", and as I said it, I felt a sharp pang of
regret and anguish, remembering the good times I'd had
with Craig.

"Oh, Steve - that's fantastic.  I'll be a real friend
to you, do anything for you..."

"Thanks...", I muttered.  "Look, we've got to sleep,
OK?  I've got to work tomorrow, and so have you..."

"I can't sleep, Steve... And you know why!".  Joey
half giggled, as he moved his hips slightly, sending
shivers of excitement through my dick trapped between
our bodies, and I suppose, doing the same to his.
"Come on, Steve.... Let's have a bit of fun...."

"No, I can't fuck you - you'll be sore..."

"But I could fuck you, Steve.... "

I almost panicked at the thought of being fucked
again, and remembered the utter humiliation as I'd
been strapped down before, as he'd mounted me.  "No,
Joey", I whispered.

"Please, Steve... You've just fucked me, and we're
buddies, aren't we?  Don't buddies have sex with each
other, Steve?  Didn't you mean it when you said we'd
be friends?"

He sounded so pathetic, and I felt so guilty that I'd
hurt him.  And I was really grateful to him for that
small piece of fruit, and knew he was braver than I
would be in the circumstances.  I knew my ass was well
stretched by the big dicks of Mister Rooney and Master
Rob, and, taken objectively, what would it matter if
his dick now went up me?  When  I was a dominant,
aggressive top, there was no way that I would have let
him do it.  But now I was broken, I could just be used
whenever Mister Rooney chose, so why not let Joey do
it too?  And Joey was, after all, probably more of a
man than I was in spite of the size of his body
compared to mine.

"Oh, all right then, just this once....", I muttered.
But even as I said it, I wondered if I'd done the
right thing:  Physically it wasn't going to hurt me,
but doing it voluntarily with a young guy, well,
somehow it still seemed slightly wrong.  When Craig
and I had been fooling around, it was because we were
both strong, mature guys, after all.... And then when
he'd fucked me I'd been simply berserk, not only by
his use of my ass, but by the way he'd betrayed my
trust, pretending to really like me, but all the time
just using it as another strategy to get a good fuck.
Joey was different, though  - he'd had to fuck me,
having as little choice in thrusting up my ass as I
lay strapped to that horse as I had in taking him;
and he really did seem to like me, and was prepared to
take huge risks for me.  It was all too complicated.
It was almost as bad as chasing women:  you just
couldn't have good, simple sex, you had to go through
all the romancing and lovey-dovey stuff.  It ought to
be easier with guys, but perhaps it wasn't.

To my amazement, Joey wanted to fuck me as Craig had!
He gently pushed and prodded at me to get me to roll
over onto my side, then I could feel his breath on my
back as he was almost laughing with excitement as he
manoeuvred my thighs apart.  I'd begun to realise that
having a man's hot breath playing over my body was in
itself exciting.   Then  I actually enjoyed the
feeling of his dick as he slid it around between my
balls and my hole,  and when he whispered "OK, Steve,
here goes...", I hardly noticed as his gently warmth
slid into me.

It wasn't much of a fuck, of course - Joey enjoyed it,
but I hardly noticed it after the hard work my ass had
done earlier that evening.  But when he'd finished and
pulled out, he turned me over again and now clung to
me again, but now with only my dick hard between us.
I went to stroke his head, and to my surprise, found
water on his cheeks.   "Hey, Joey... What's the
matter...?"

"Oh, Steve... You're so nice to me. I've never had a
buddy like you before, someone who treats me
properly... My step-dad threw me out, and that was why
I was picked up by the cops and made indentured.... I
wish I'd had a brother like you, Steve, an older
brother who'd take care of me..."

"But  I can't do that, Joey, you know that.  We both
have to do what Mister Rooney tells us, don't we?"

"Yes, Steve, but when we've got free time, can we
spend it together, Steve, like buddies do?"

I wanted to say "no", really, as I didn't want to be
always hanging out wit a kid.  After all, I was going
to start fucking the other guys again now, and I
couldn't always be hanging about with Joey.  But he
seemed so happy, and I didn't want to disappoint him,
so I said "Hey, sure, of course, that's what buddies
do."  How easy it is to let those little half-truths
and lies slip out, how expedient it can seem at the
time, and how much trouble you can store up for later.

Joey gave a big sigh of contentment, and reached down
and pressed his hand between us.  I felt his fingers
stroking my dick, and began to thrill as my body
prepared to cum again.  I forget it was "only" Joey
doing these amazing things to me, and closed my eyes
and thought of Craig, and of his hard muscles, of his
proud rampant dick, and of the strong muscular fingers
that he used to jerk us both off.  The feeling was so
intense that it seemed like only seconds before my
dick fired and sprayed my cum between our bodies, and
once more, as I smelled that wonderful male scent of
cum and sweat, I remembered Craig and our love making.
 I gave a great sigh, of passion, and of regret, and
Joey moved his face next to mine, and kissed me gently
on the lips.  Before I could protest, or do anything,
he dropped back, and I could almost feel him dropping
off to sleep, wrapped in my arms.

The next morning, of course, I got a lot of joshing
and ribald remarks from the other guys when they saw
me and Joey intertwined together.  Joey is a bit of a
clown, too, and he hopped around from foot to foot in
front of everyone, his morning hard-on wagging up and
down, shouting and complaining, pretending that his
was hurting because his pubic hair had been ripped out
because we were stuck together with our cum! There was
enough of the truth in it for it to be really funny,
as there was indeed dried cum over our bellies and all
over the sheets - Ted grabbed my bottom sheet and held
it up for everyone to see, and the big patches of cum
were really visible.   I slapped Joey's butt playfully
to make him stop

It was a bit embarrassing in the showers, though -
instead of joining in the general washing of each
other, Joey only wanted to soap me, and I knew some of
the other guys saw how he was pushing his hand right
up my crack so that he could poke his finger into my
hole!  We didn't do that kind of stuff in the showers,
especially not in the morning when we were all
supposed to be getting ready for work.

I was expecting Joey to pull on his normal
dick-flashing T, but as we were all standing around
dressing in our work shorts and polos, and lacing up
our heavy work boots, Sean came in and told Joey to
dress the same way.  After we'd eaten our breakfast
chow, he separated out Joey, Craig and me from the
rest of the guys, and told us to get into the back of
one of the trucks.

Joey was really excited, as he didn't usually get out
of Rooney's Contracts' yard, and he pressed himself
close to me, and made me put my arm around his
shoulders.  Craig just sat there, looking at us, and
saying nothing.  How I wished it was Craig's body
pressed in to me, and Craig's lovely muscled neck that
was warming my biceps!

To our surprise, Mister Rooney himself came out and
got into the driver's seat, and instead of turning
towards the suburbs where the majority of the
construction sites were, we joined the morning crawl
of the commuters in their fancy cars in towards the
centre of the city.  It was interesting to see them
all there, looking all tense and frustrated before the
day's work had even begun, and I began to realise how
lucky I was really, able to use my body properly.  The
guys in the cars mostly looked really miserable, and
in spite of what I'd been through recently, I felt
almost happy.  Life didn't seem to be so bad after
all.

It took a really long time, and I wondered how the
poor commuting bastards put up with the constant
stop-start all the time every day.   It seemed to me
that their lives were even more controlled than mine -
they had to get up and go to the office every day, do
what their bosses ordered, and then go home to dreary
suburbs.   I at least was using my body, and at night
I had the freedom to fuck whoever I wanted to, and
wasn't restricted to some whining wife, always
pestering me to "get on" and "make money".  I began to
feel rather superior to them, as I looked at their
pasty white faces and their overweight bodies as the
traffic inched around us:  I bet they wished that they
were all in as good shape as I was, as the sunlight
played over my muscled forearms and upper body a we
sat there.

When Mister Rooney pulled into a parking garage and
told us curtly to follow him, it was actually quite
exciting:  I hadn't been downtown for a long, long
time, and the sight of al the folk crowding the
sidewalks as they went into their offices was actually
very interesting:  we really weren't used to seeing
people in bulk, as mostly on the sites we just saw a
few other workers, like us.  But where could we be
working today, and why were we here?  It didn't look
as if there was a site within miles!

We finally turned into a building, and in the atrium
there were big signs saying "Criminal cases - first
floor", and "Civil cases - take the elevators to the
third floor."  Mister Rooney led the way over to the
elevators, then, as he got in, snapped "You guys run
up the stairs - and I mean run, as you're not going to
get much exercise today.  And folk don't like having
to share enclosed elevators with indentured servants.
Meet me on the third floor!"

All three of us raced up the stairs, and actually beat
the elevator.  We stood there waiting for Mister
Rooney, and then followed him to a desk, where I heard
the clerk tell him "Court Four.  Mister Wheeler is
waiting for you."

We went along the corridor, and there, outside a door
plainly marked "Court Four - Wait to be summoned
before entering", was Rob - I'd actually forgotten
that he was a "Wheeler", and what was even more
surprising was that instead of the normal "smart
causal" clothes that I had been used to seeing him in
(or his naked skin now, I suppose!), he was in a
formal dark suit with a n expensive looking silk
necktie.  Everything about him screamed "lawyer", and,
more particularly, "successful, expensive lawyer".

Rob and Mister Rooney conversed briefly as the three
of us waited patiently, then an usher in uniform came
out, spoke to them, and we went into the court room.
What the fuck was going on,  I wondered?  But I soon
found out!  "Civil docket 8356732 - Rooney's Contracts
and the indentured servants  Craig Dulles, Steven
Masters, and Joseph Willows."

Rob rose to his feet, and addressed the judge who sat
there looking down at us.  "Please, Ma'am", he began.
"This is a simple matter.  Under the recently enacted
state law, indentured servants with a ten year
indenture or more can have their indenture period
extended by the Court if the Court deems that it will
be in the best interests of the servant himself, or
the community at large.  All three indentured servants
in the court today have ten year indentures, and my
client, the respected contractor Michael Rooney,
requests that the Court extends their periods of
indenture under those conditions."

I listened to this in horror.  I wasn't a ten year
indenture really - Rob had agreed to five years, and
then had had that extended already.  "No!", I shouted
out "That's unfair!  I was only a five year indenture,
and..."

The judge banged her gavel.  "Silence!  I will not
have these unseemly outbursts in my court, especially
not from indentured servants."  She looked at me
specifically, and continued "If there is any more of
that nonsense from you young man, the court bailiff
will take you out and cane you."

"But please, Ma'am..."

"Silence!  The Court only hears from free men.
Indentured servants have no right to speak in court,
having forfeited that right when they were originally
convicted."

I was about to shout out that I wasn't convicted of
anything, when Joey pulled at my shirt, motioning me
to sit down.  I realised that I'd better be patient,
bide my time - our turn would come, surely."

"So tell me, Mister Wheeler, under what conditions are
you requesting that the Court agrees to the extension
of these indentures - the law lays down very specific
circumstances, you know.  And how long do you requires
these extensions to be?"

"Craig Dulles was a recidivist, your honour.  Guilty
of multiple crimes, and working his way through
several minor prison terms before he was indentured
for ten years.  We believe that it would be wrong to
release him back to society where he will doubtless
offend again.  It is only the stern discipline and
firm control of the indenture programme that keeps him
from inflicting further damage to others.  For the
sake of society, for the protection of honest
citizens, we believe that the only sensible course is
to agree to extend his indenture."

"Steven Masters is unstable.  He agreed to a voluntary
indenture of five years, which had to be extended to
ten, and..."

"No!", I shouted.  "Rob, you know that's not right..."

"Bailiff!", the judge snapped.  "Bring a gag for this
man here.  I will not have the order of my court
disturbed by a servant!  By rights I ought to have him
caned, but I do not want to waste time here this
morning:  gag him, so we can continue."

The bailiff came up to me with something that looked
like a horse's bit - a bar of steel, but with a plate
jutting out from it at right angles.  Leather straps
hung from each end of it.  He held it up to my mouth,
and when I just stood there, teeth clamped shut, said
calmly "Open wide, boy, and take the gag, or you'll
feel my prod at full power..."

Well, what could I do?  The metal bar tasted well,
"metallic" as he pushed it home, and as he fastened
the straps behind my head, I realised that the plate
was pressing down on my tongue.  With my mouth wedged
half open and my tongue immobile, I was capable of
making only inarticulate gargling noises.

"Proceed, Mister Wheeler", the judge ordered, and Rob
went on "As I was saying, your honour, Steven Masters
is unstable.  No young man with a good home background
would willingly agree to indenture.  It is in his own
best interests that he remain indentured for a further
term, as only that way can he find the true
satisfaction that his personality craves."

"NO!", I shouted, but it was inarticulate, and almost
inaudible.

"And Joseph Willows was a juvenile delinquent, always
in trouble.  His stepfather ultimately had to insist
he left the family home, he was so much trouble.  He
was quickly guilty of sundry petty crimes - theft,
breaking and entering.... And was sentenced to a
period of indenture as soon as he was sixteen.  We
believe that it is in his own best interests to have
the period extended, as when he becomes 'free' at
twenty six, he will have no experience of life, and
will be unable to manage his affairs as an adult in
our complex society.  It will be kinder to him, and
better for society as a whole, if he does not return
to that life of crime that is the only one which he
knows, save for the security and order that indenture
brings to him."

"NO!", I tried to shout again.  I knew that Joey had
only had to steal and break into a house as he was so
hungry and freezing cold because of the unjust actions
of his stepfather, and yet here he was, being made out
to look like a hardened criminal, like Craig.  Fucking
lawyers!  Rob wasn't exactly lying, but he was
presenting the facts with a dishonest spin to them.
It was no use, of course - nothing came through the
gag.  And Joey seemed so terrified of the whole
business that he remained totally silent.

"You make a compelling case, Mister Wheeler, the judge
said calmly.  "Is there anyone here to speak for the
indentured servants?"

"Your honour....", Craig began.

"Silence!  Unless you want to be gagged like your
companion, remain silent!"  The judge was almost
screaming at Craig now.  "I have said before that
servants have no right to speak in Court, that right
being reserved for free men.  If the servants have not
arranged for any respectable free man to appear here
and speak on their behalf, I will issue judgement on
the basis of Mister Wheeler's unchallenged
dissertation."

Fuck me!  How fucking unfair!  We didn't even know we
were coming here today, so how the fuck could we have
made arrangements for a respectable free man to appear
for us?  And, anyway, how was an indentured servant,
kept closely confined, as we were, meant to find one
of these "respectable free men" anyway?  I fumed and
shouted, but just succeeded in looking intemperate and
stupid, as I can now see.

"Mister Wheeler, the Court grants your petition, and
agrees to extend the indenture of the three servants.
What period of extension are you looking for?"

"Ma'am, you could agree to a further ten years, but
then, in ten years time we could all be here again
using just the same arguments, as little will have
changed in the circumstances of these servants:  they
will still be ex-criminals, or unable to cope, or
unbalanced.  So, in order to avoid wasting the Court's
time, I suggest that the most appropriate thing to do
would be to extend the indenture period indefinitely -
make them indentured servants for the remainder of
their natural lives."

"What a sensible suggestion, mister Wheeler.  There's
little enough time here as it is. The Court so rules.
Craig Dulles, Steven Masters, and Joseph Willows are
hereby indentured for the remainder of their lives."

She banged her gavel.  Mister Rooney and Rob were
smiling, and Craig, Joey and I just looked at each
other in what amounted to complete shock.

"Bailiff, take the servants down, and have the
relevant changes made to their markings", the judge
concluded, banging her gavel again.

End Of Part 17