Date: Sun, 27 Oct 2013 19:28:43 -0700
From: Randall Austin <randallaustin2011@hotmail.com>
Subject: What They Did To Julian - 19

What They Did to Julian
Part Nineteen of Several Parts
By Randall Austin


This story is erotic fiction meant for mature readers and should only be
read by adults over the age of eighteen years old. Please do not use my
stories without my permission and please forward all comments to
randallaustin2011@hotmail.com


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On Friday, July 5th, one day before the grand opening of the
Baldwin/Fletcher Farms' newest attraction, the `Reward Station', and just
three days away from the start of a trial that would determine the fates of
both the Baldwin Fletcher Farm and Jack Deeks, Jack walked about the theme
park.

Like any other visitor to the park, Jack walked slowly about, amazed at the
sight of hundreds of field servitors tending the fields and crops, all nude
except for various body decorations such as makeup, body oil, body paint,
jewelry, headbands, earrings, bells, arm and leg bands, butt tails, and
boots.  The fact that they worked alongside and with the livestock, with
both the herd boys and livestock tended by watch dogs, added to the raw,
animal, energy of the scene.

Jack had always been somewhat embarrassed that he was drawn to the sheer
eroticism of the park, but he realized now that he was only embarrassed
about his interest in the park because his three closest friends happened
to be members of the field servitor corps.

As he realized this, Jack was forced to ask himself again what proof he had
that Casey and Lloyd didn't `rape' some of Baldwin/Fletcher's servitors.
Perhaps they did commit a crime and were now simply paying back, justly,
their debts to society.

Why should he risk his welfare on an unknown?  And there was no way for him
to know the truth; he was not a detective after all.  It really wasn't his
duty to take on the role of detective and defense witness for his friends.
He wasn't there when the alleged crimes were committed.

And Julian, Lloyd, and Casey, seemed, incredibly or rather accepting of
their lot.  They offered no complaints about their terms of indenturement,
treatment, or any other aspect of their lives at Baldwin/Fletcher.

Though the topic was not discussed directly among the four friends, Jack's
former football buddies displayed no embarrassment or shame at some of the
sexually invasive training techniques used on them, or at the homosexual
aspects of some of the field-servitors' daily regimen.

And, again quite amazingly, Julian did not negatively dwell on the fact
that he had missed out on a chance at a career in pro football.

From all of this Jack could only conclude that his indentured friends no
longer seemed to have any problems with their current state of
indenturement.

And as far as what Baldwin/Fletcher did to Julian, Casey, Lloyd, and all
the others, Jack's lawyers made it clear to Jack that drugs were probably
not involved, based on the results of previous lawsuits on the issue filed
against Baldwin/Fletcher.

And they explained to Jack that training of the sort served up to new
indentees at Baldwin/Fletcher, along with forms of psychological
conditioning, could indeed effect results of the sort he had witnessed in
his friends.  The so called `big one', Jack's lawyers explained, with all
the tubes affixed to their cocks, down their throats, and up their asses,
could be nothing more than an example of such psychological conditioning.

It was all a lot to ponder, and Jack had to make a decision.  His friends
seemed content and happy, and he was madly in love with Arnold Baldwin.
The decision should be a simple one; drop the lawsuit and declare his love
to Arnold.

But when such thoughts came to Jack, doubts he had about Arnold Baldwin
always returned.  If Arnold did not entrap Casey and Lloyd, then his
friends deserved to be, perhaps, where they were; but if Arnold did use
entrapment methods, that meant he was, in fact, a devious man, one who
should not be trusted.

Or perhaps, Jack wondered, Arnold was not evil, but simply saw such
activity in a more benign light.  Arnold was, after all, a very smart and
clever man, and perhaps he has just a bit of devil in him; proud enough to
believe that `testing' the morality of young male visitors to the park,
whom he found to be ideal field servitor candidates, was fair game.

A martial-like tune with a Cuban dance beat sounded over the park's sound
system, announcing a changing of servitor personnel for one of the herds,
and shifted Jack out of his introspection.

Two guard dogs bounded up to the threshing herd, and with barking helped
ensure that the 26 boys in the herd were in proper formation before
marching off the field.  The crowds started clapping, and as was the
practice, the servitors all looked up at the crowds, and waved and smiled
at them as the crowd cheered them on.

And once they started to march off the field, in time to the music, with
the dogs accompanying them, the fresh threshing herd came marching into
view, also accompanied by a pair of guard dogs.

The contrast between the two herds was very marked.  The new boys' bodies
were gleaming with oil, their decorations fresh, their mohawks slicked, and
their cocks all erect; whereas the retiring herd's bodies were no longer
shiny, but covered in dirt, their mohawks in need of dressing, their
painted body decorations a little faded, and their cocks fatigued into half
mast or less.

The crowd greeted the new herd with even louder applause, and once at their
stations, the new herd raised their arms to the crowd, thrust out their
chests and their pelvises, almost as if to ensure the crowd got a good look
at their dick tips, and then all did a little dance to the music, which
drew even louder cheers from the crowd.

Once the music died down, the new herd got into their field chores with
vigor, all seeming to enjoy their work.  Jack observed the fresh threshing
herd at their labor.  They were working hard, but chatting and laughing
with each other as they worked.

And when they had to pee, they freely and happily eliminated in front of
hundreds of spectators, some aiming their piss streams up at individuals in
the viewing area, and eliciting raucous cheers and applause in doing so.
Something had to have happened to them, something had to have been done to
them, to make them seemingly so content with their status as herd animals;
and this was the most compelling reason why Jack felt he could not drop his
lawsuit.

Whenever Jack viewed the field workers, as he was now, he was doubly
conflicted.  Conflicted not only about what he should do regarding Arnold
Baldwin and the lawsuit, but conflicted because he was so sexually aroused
by the herds.  All the nude boys, reduced to herd animal status, their
muscled bodies gleaming in the sun, half of whom were sporting erections at
any given time, gave him a hard on that matched some of the largest dicks
to be found in the herds.

There before Jack were hundreds of guys his age, behaving not just like
animals, but herd animals.  Herd animals in that they were all working
together at equal pace, doing things no free boys would be doing.  They
were just like the goats, sheep, and lambs, that milled about the fields
alongside them; and just like the goats, sheep, and lambs, they were naked,
with their waggling dicks on display for all to see.

All of the field boys were under strict subjugation, and doing what their
overseers, trainers, guards, and owners, ordered them to do.  In training
they all learned to behave, and they learned what would happen to them if
they did not behave.  They were well trained, and the evidence of their
training through strict discipline is what was now causing Jack's erect
cock to start oozing precum.

Jack's sexual musings were suddenly thwarted by a touch to his shoulder.
It was Arnold Baldwin.  Jack, caught by surprise, could not conceal his
happiness in seeing Arnold.  And the happy surprise made him forget to
conceal the boner he had in his trousers, which Arnold noticed, nodded to
and gave a smile.

Jack blushed; Arnold tried to put him at ease, "It happens to most guys who
visit the park!  And the funny part is watching all the guys trying to
conceal their boners from their wives and girl friends."

They looked at each other, and both could sense the other's happiness in
being near each other.  There exchanged quiet smiles, saying nothing for
quite a while, when finally Arnold quietly asked, "Why are we hurting each
other?"

Jack looked down, saying nothing, and Arnold continued, "Tomorrow we're
spending the day together for the opening of the `Reward Station', then on
Monday the trial begins, and we go after each other's throats.  I don't
want to do it.  And you don't want to do it either."

Jack continued looking down, and Arnold took hold of his left shoulder,
"Listen to me Jack.  I love you, very much!  Let's stop hurting each other.
I will drop our lawsuit, and only hope you will do the same."

Jack, still looking down, answered, "I will drop my lawsuit as well, if you
will answer one question for me."  Jack looked at Arnold, and Arnold nodded
in reply, "What did you do to Julian?  What did you do to Lloyd, Casey, and
all the others to make them the way they are?"

"I have already answered that question for you, Jack.  I, we, did nothing
to them but put them through standard training.  I know it is hard for
people who do not deal in servitor husbandry to understand, but training
works.  And part of it is simply making sure they are treated well, and
rewarded if they do what they are required to do."

Jack shook his head, to indicate that he wasn't buying Arnold's
explanation.  Arnold continued, "A big part of training is teaching them to
be happy, and to build a real and caring sense of fraternity among the
servitors.  They want to do what they are supposed to for the good of the
brotherhood.  The sense of duty becomes real.  It is something you should
understand from your sporting activities; things are done for the team, and
the team spirit continually inspires ever greater allegiance, commitment,
loyalty, and enthusiasm to the team from its members."

Jack said nothing.  Arnold, frustrated, asked, "Do you think that I'm some
kind of monster that I would do something to alter or distort a person's
personality?  I thought that such accusations only came from the tabloids."

Jack still said nothing.  Arnold put his hand on Jack's shoulder, "Jack,
don't judge me.  I love you.  I want you in my life!"

***

The first thing Jack did when he got back to his room at the Magellan Hotel
in downtown Fresno, was open up the 1.5 liter bottle of Zinfandel he
purchased once he left the Baldwin/Fletcher Farms park.

When he called his friend Rick in Bellingham, two and a half hours later,
Rick could tell immediately that his friend was drunk.

Jack sobbed as he spoke, "Rick, I love you man!  I wish you were with me!
I..."

"Jack, what's going on?"

"I don't know.  I think Arnold Baldwin could be a monster."

Jack stopped talking and started bawling.  Rick tried to help, "Jack, you
need to go to bed!  Go on man.  Get in bed."

"I only have one day to decide what I should do.  I love him.  I'm afraid I
love a monster."

Rick spoke his words slowly, "I want you to hear my words, Jack.  If you
really love the guy, then he probably is not a monster.  Listen to your
heart!"

Jack was incoherent, "I know, but, but...  It's kind of like when we were
at...  I dunno... Maybe..."

Rick spoke his words loudly and succinctly, "Jack, just follow your heart.
And get your ass in bed!"


To be continued...


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