Our New Family 1

This story involves homosexuality in loving, caring relationships between boys and men, not necessarily sexual in nature yet, but it will come. If this sort of material offends you, you shouldn't really have got this far, let alone start reading this story.You've had plenty of warnings from previous pages. If you shouldn't be reading this, for whatever reason, don't get caught, because I know that me telling you not to read this isn't going to stop you (I am 18 and legal, but I do know what the temptation's like)(This does not constitute me condoning this action). This is predominantly a love/romance story and not particularly incestuous in its absolute form, nor authoritarian, even though slavery is used as a means to get the story moving and on to its main focus. This story is entirely fiction, and any similarity of anything to a real-life counterpart is coincidence. All spelling and words are British English and may differ to those used in America. Any such words that are significantly different will be added in a list at the end of the chapter and translated into any American English Equivalent that I know. This story is my work, and should not be reproduced in any way (with the exception of one electronic copy for your own personal use), whole or modified, without making it absolutely clear That I am the author. You may not demand anything that may equate to financial gain in return for allowing someone to access this work. Any quotes should be credited to me unless otherwise stated by my own aknowledgement to someone else. Plagiarism is a criminal offence under any penal code that I have ever come across, so please do not commit this offence. Nifty holds the only authorised English copy in the public domain outside my possession at this point in time. Any change in posessions shall be notified in later chapters. All copyrights are my own. Any legal aspects are governed by British law. Enjoy!

Our New Family

Chapter 1-Incomprehensible Losses

My name is Jesse Jonathan Jamesson. I was born on the 3rd March 1985 to a wonderful mother and father. At the time, my father didn't believe in circumcision, so I was not circumcised, even though he had to get a court order to stop the operation. For this, I am very grateful.

To start with, my life was standard with the usual babying etc. We lived in a house in New England, near a large city, so there was always plenty to do. At the time, the entirety of the United States of America employed indentured servitude as a means of penal punishment (commonly known as slavery). We were never rich enough to afford a slave, so we always had to do everything on our own, and therefore not as in-touch with the slave laws as we should have been. My mother and father loved me very much, but unfortunately, my father was killed when a ro-ro ferry capsized in the port of Norlaksofn in Iceland while there on business just some 8 months before my 7th birthday. My mother was devastated, but knew she had to go on, as she had already been pregnant for about 1 month.

As I was the first-born, I had the delight of watching my 4 brothers being born when I was 6, almost 7 years old. You see, my brothers were all born on the same day, all around midday on the 2nd February 1991. During my mum's pregnancy period, it had very quickly become apparent that I would be getting quadruplet brothers, not that I knew what a quadruplet was at the time, but all was revealed on the day of the birth right in front of my disbelieving eyes as all four of my brothers were delivered one after another. My brothers were also born fairly prematurely, which was to be expected. The original expectancy date was to have been my 7th birthday. As a result, the doctor immediately declared them too ill to go through the standard circumcision operation that would have removed their foreskins. I had almost been circumcised; had my father not been exceedingly adamant that I should not be circumcised, I'm sure that I would have been. In this way, my brothers were very lucky. The quadruplets were identical, which confused me no end for a long time, and were born thus:

Thomas Henry Jamesson at 11:51
Edward Henry Jamesson at 11:55
David Henry Jamesson at 12:03
Adam Henry Jamesson at 12:11

When the doctor left, I was allowed to hold each of my beautiful, intriguing baby brothers and admire them from my new-found position of responsibility. I have to say that I had never and have never since, been prouder than at that point in my entire life. Once the quadruplets and my mother returned home after a long stint in the hospital, during which I lived at a neighbour's house, mum became determined to find herself another boyfriend, or even a husband. She managed to find one within 3 months of my brothers being born. However, it just wasn't the same any more. Her boyfriend, Paul, was a distant man and rarely acknowledged our presence. He did bring another addition to the family with him; his son, Simon. Simon was 9 years old when our new father came to live with us. Simon very quickly became our idol and we followed him around everywhere, much to our parents' chagrin. Simon was quick to develop a sense of being our big brother and all that it entailed. As time went on, he was the one that we would go to with any questions that we might have. Simon, the quadruplets and I all got on well with each other and we never so much as raised our voices at him. My brothers became very dependent on him. As the quadruplets grew up, it became the norm for them to talk in dovetailing sentences that wound their way round all four of them. They also devoloped the other basic 'twin sense'; being able to tell each others' feelings, even when they were separated. Life was very comfortable for many years; however that was all to change when Simon turned 16. To explain the events, an explanation of the slave laws is required. If you were 16 years years of age or older and you were convicted of a crime, the only sentence that you could receive was a lifetime indenture into servitude. This was in all but name, salvery. From the age of 16 to 21, your parents could sell you into a lifetime of slavery, if they so wished, without the requirement of having the child agree. While we never had slaves because we were never rich enough to afford them, our father was well aware of these laws as he had owned slaves in the past. We did not know that he knew these laws, and nor did we know that they existed. Unfortunately, this led to us being blind-sighted during the events that would lead us to a very different way and and sense of living.

On the fateful day that set these events in motion, I was 14 and the quadruplets were 8. Our father had just returned home drunk from a party that he had with his friends. Simon, just 16, decide that this was a good time to tell our father that he was gay. To say that our father took it badly was an understatement. He went into a tirade about how ashamed he was to have a gay son, and that he either become straight, or face the consequences. Nobody in our family had ever seen him this mad, least of all our mother, and as a result, all of us except Simon and dad froze in shock. As our father continued his tirade, he started to hit and beat Simon up. Things were getting further and further out of control. Mum came to her senses and desperately tried to get our father to stop hitting Simon and calm down. Our father, however, was now unstoppable, and an hour later, he slowly wound down. At this point, Simon was on the floor, curled up into a ball in the corner of the room, facing away from dad, a bloody mess and screaming in agony. Dad stomped out of the house, slamming the front door in the process. Mum ran to Simon's side and attempted to get him to uncurl. At first, Simon tried to get away from her, fearing that she would hit him, just like his father had. After a good 15 minutes, mum finally managed to get him calmed down enough to persuade him that she wasn't going to do him any harm. She then went to get the First-Aid kit that we kept in the upstairs bathroom and led a still sobbing Simon to the downstairs loo where she would be able to tend to his wounds. Around 2 hours later, after many howls of pain and frustration from both mum and Simon, Simon emerged reasonably well cleaned up. Once out, Simon immediately tramped up the stairs to get ready for bed. Mum also emerged slowly from the loo looking absolutely exhausted and also sent us to get ready for bed. Me in mine and the quadruplets in their room (we kids had 3 rooms, with Simon in the middle one), and quiet (the time was now midnight), we could clearly hear Simon bawl himself to sleep. At around 3 am, with me still awake, our father came home, cursing up a storm about his 'faggot son'.

Simon chose to face the consequences, and little did any of us know how far our father would take them. What our father did was totally and utterly beyond any comprehension. Most of Simon's wounds were superficial and healed within 2 days, as our father had been too drunk to effectively assault Simon. 3 days after Simon's announcememt, a knock came at our front door while we were eating our evening meal. Father opened it with a smile, had a quick, quiet conversation with the person outside, whom we couldn't see from our position in the dining room, and soon returned to the dining room with two slave officers, a solicitor and a clipboard in hand, leering nastily at Simon. All of us, except Simon and da looked on, wondering what was coming next. The solicitor didn't delay one moment and started proceedings by asking which of us was Simon. Simon gave an almost inadible squeak of recognition with a look of abject fear in his eyes, as though he knew what was coming next, and unfortunately for him, he was right. The solicitor quickly read the 'stripping of rights of a free man' to him:

"Simon Paul Smith, I, as duly sworn solicitor of the State of New Hampshire, do hereby confirm that Her Honour Justice Edwina Hurley of the Federal Justice System has duly approved your father, Paul Jacob Smith's request that you be indentured into servitude for the period of your remaining natural life. I do thus by the power authorised unto me as a solicitor and on the authority of the Federal Coutrs of New Hampshire, strip you of all rights accorded a free citizen as of 19:17, today, 28th January 2000. You have been assigned to the Federal Servants Authority for auction. You shall be transported to their New Hampshire Centre to be processed, after which you shall be sold at the next Indentured Servants Auction, at which time your worth shall be determined. The proceeds of such sale shall be remitted to your indenturee, Paul Jacob Smith. Officers, prepare the new indentured servant." (1)

With a total look of shock and revulsion on his face, Simon crumpled to the floor in a faint as the reality of what was happening finally sunk in; his own father was selling him into slavery! The officers wasted no time or effort and cut Simon's clothes off him, using the infamous curved knife, as he no longer had any right to them as a slave. Once finished, the officers carried him between them to the van outside. That was the last time we ever saw him again for many years (over 20). These events also stay with me to this very day, as the worst day of my life.

Our mother was so distraught after these events (she hadn't been consulted), that she immediately went into a deep depression that she would never come out of. So distraught was she, that within two months, she committed suicide by hanging herself from the rafters in the garage. As a result, our father started to drink very heavily, but somehow managed to keep a job (otherwise he would have been enslaved as a vagrant). He became abusive towards us, and started to beat my brothers and me when it fancied him. I was forced to take on the role that Simon had held since he arrived; being the quadruplets' Big Brother. I was also forced to become more than their Big Bro'; their carer. As our father bacame more and more drunk, it became apparent that I would have to protect my brothers from the physical abuse that dad meted out, if they were to have any chance of leading a reasonably unimpeded life. Any time that our father turned violent towards us, I would grab my brothers and hide them in a safe place before presenting myself for the beating that was to inevitably follow. And as such, I always had many bruises to show for my troubles. Once in a while, after a particularly wild tirade, I would take my brothers and myself to the hospital so that we (but mainly I) could be tended to. Our school asked Social Services many times to investigate, but nothing could ever be proven as dad was always very careful and on his best behaviour when Social Services announced their visit. I protected my brothers with as much care and caution as I could afford. I showed the quadruplets how to look after their bodies and explained the facts of life to them as and when they presented an interest in knowing them. I had already learned them all from Simon (as far as Simon knew them anyway), and I am sure that he would have passed them on to my brothers had he not been so callously enslaved. By the time of the next important event, they had asked me very few life questions of me, though I never refused to answer one.

As soon as I could after Simon was taken away, I went to the nearest bookshop and bought the most comprehensive and official volumes of the slave laws that I could find (I admit it, I had to steal some of dad's money to buy them. He was so drunk that he didn't realise that I'd taken some $500 from him). I constantly read the volumes inside-out and back-to-front so as to familiarise myself with the slave laws as much as I could. Eventually, I could quote the entire statute, in its official form, from beginning to end without needing the books. I also started looking up foreign laws about slavery. While doing this, I found that the US was the only country in the world that had legalised slavery. On examining the British statute books, I found that any slave, or any person that is in danger of being enslaved could go to any British Embassy or travel to the UK to claim asylum. The same held true for Canada and Mexico, but because they were neighbours of the US, the Federal Authorities kept an extremely tight check on anybody that was travelling to either of these countries to ensure that nobody could take slaves across the border illegally. As Britain is not such a close neighbour, the authorities didn't deem it as such an obvious choice for delinquents, so they didn't check to the same extent. Unfortunately, the statistics seemed to prove their tactics; fewer slaves were caught trying to flee to Britain as a percentage of the travellers checked than to either Mexico or Canada. Slaves that are caught trying to escape are automatically issued with a death warrant by Federal Servants Authority. These warrants are always carried out in public and are never pretty. From this information, I slowly built up a plan of action that I would use if I ever needed to in order to protect my remaining brothers and me. The plan involved incapacitating our father so that we would not be hindered in our flight. This would also give us our reason for asylum when we were asked for one, although age along with another reason and supporting evidence would suffice. We would then go to the nearest airport and take the first flight out of the country to UK. From there, we would turn ourselves over to the Immigration Service, Servants' Branch for asylum processing. This plan took almost 3 years to formulate with innumerable improvements along the way, to ensure that everything was legal as far as the British statute book goes, but finally, it was ready.

The 'living arrangements' after mum died continued for many years, until the time when parental ensavement was reduced from 16 to 13. I was aware of this development at the time and I was also aware that the quadruplets had all come to the conclusion that they were gay, as they held nothing back from me. I had already found, some 4 years before, that I too, was gay, but purposely hid my identity from my father, as I knew what the consequences would be. Unfortunately, the quadruplets seemed to have forgotten the objectionable, then 5 years past, occurrences that led to Simon's enslavement. I was now 18 years old and the quadruplets were 13. The evening started normally, but quickly degenerated:

We had just sat down to dinner when the quadruplets said:

"Dad......," pause, "we dont know how to say this...,so we'll just say it......," another pause, "......we're......gay".

I immediately looked at the quadruplets in shock as total and utter silence reigned. Dad and I recovered at the same time; dad launced into a tirade, while I realised that the time had finally come for my plan to be put into action. I had hoped that I would never have had to go through with the plan, but it was our only hope now, unless we wanted to be enslaved.

I spun round in my chair and grabbed the poker from the fireplace behind me. By now, the quadruplets were cowering in their chairs with tears streaming down their faces. As dad got up to walk round the table to reach them, I swung the poker as hard as I could across the back of dad's shoulders. This caused dad to fall to the floor, but, annoyingly, as he fell, the bridge of his nose caught the corner of the chair next to him. By the time he reached the floor, blood was oozing from both his nostrils.

[Oh bugger, I hope I haven't killed him! Too late to think about that now, though...... Oh yeah, get the quadruplets to pack.]

"Guys......," I began. No response.

"GUYS!!!" I yelled. That got a response. They jumped and slowly turned their heads to look at me.

"You need to grab your suitcases and pack them to be out of the house within ten minutes." When they didn't move, I shouted "NOW!!!" Still no movement.

[OK, I'll have to do it all myself, then.]

I ran up the stairs and into the quadruplets' room. I grabbed the four suitcases from on top of their wardrobe. Their wardrobe was large, so as to accommodate four sets of clothes. I slid the door open and grabbed all the shirts and T-shirts that they had. I unceremoniously stuffed stuffed them into one of their suitcases (they could sort out which was whose later, not that it mattered, as they had always worn each others' clothes as well as their own). Their trousers followed their shirts into the same suitcase, but their shorts went into a second, along with their briefs (proper Y-fronts of varying colours and designs) and socks. The third suitcase was reserved for their pyjamas and the contents of their individual nightstands, the contents of which I placed in separate durable bags to make sure they didn't mix. Their wallets, ID cards, key-rings and personal pictures, I put into smaller durable bags and took them with me to my room, where I filled the fourth suitcase with my clothes. The personal posessions of all five of us were put into my backpack, along with all our passports and $10'000 (The entire stash that I knew dad kept in his wardrobe). All my law volumes went into my school bag along with some reading books to make sure that my brothers didn't get bored. I slid all the suitcases down the stairs in front of me and followed after them. I raided dad's jacket pocket and retrieved his car keys. I'd had my driving licence for 2 years now, so I was qualified to carry out the plan in the manner I wanted to. I opened the car boot and forced all the suitcases into the back before running back into the house to get my brothers. I grabbed the two nearest ones, Ed and Davey, lead them to the car and belted them into the back seat. I then returned to the house for Adam and Tom. Tom I belted into the front passenger seat and Adam into the remaining back seat before hurriedly checking once more on dad, closing the front door and climbing into the driver's seat. All in all, it had taken me about 15 minutes, which was not bad going.

I started the engine and drove off with somewhat squealing tyres. I was far too nervous and knew that I would have to calm down before I did something major. By the time we left town, I'd calmed down and decided that it was time to strike up a conversation with my still silent brothers:

"Guys, could you listen to me for a moment, please?" I asked, looking in the rear-view mirror.

I saw Ed, Adam and Davey's eyes look into mine via the mirror. I turned my head and looked at Tom, who was also looking at me.

"I know you're scared and upset after what happened at home, but what's done is done. There's nothing that any of us can do to change it. We need to move on with the present. You know thathad we stayed, dad would have enslaved us all, don't you?" Once they had all nodded, I continued, "You know that I've been reading several volumes on slave law. What's happeneing now is to do with that. What I did at home, by that I mean hitting dad, is an enslaveable offence, meaning that if we stay here, I will be enslaved. I have to protect you guys, which is why I did that to dad. Now, in accordance with US law, any child over the age of 13 with no person able to care for them is to be indentured. That means that if dad lives, you will be sold, but you will also be sold if dad dies from what I did to him. You have no way out of this situation without being enslavesd, unless we do what I am doing now. Not only have I been reading US slave laws, I have also learned the so called 'slave laws' of the UK. Under these laws, it is clearly stated that any slave or any person that is to be enslaved may hand themselves over to any British Embassy, or, for the same outcome, travel to the UK and hand themselves over to the Immigration Service. Do you understand so far?"

"Yes," came the chorus, "um......, what's 'asylum'?" asked Adam.

"Asylum is where somebody is allowed to live in a country that is not their proper home because they are being persecuted in their own, that is to say their government wants to capture them so that they can be tortured, killed, blackmailed etcetera." I responded.

"What's that got to do with slavery?" asked Davey.

"Britain believes that it is wrong for people to be enslaved. They think that it violates Human Rights, as set out by the UN Charter, which it does, but to circumvent that, the US no longer subscribes to the Charter. Britain believes that it can never be justified, because the slave is still a human being with feelings, thoughts and the same DNA. There is no change that takes place as far as the new slave is concerned; they are still the same person. They think that it to be so wrong that they have their own laws concerning slavery; I already explained them; trying to counter those of the US, and personally, I agree with their mindset. Is that enough explanation?" I asked, looking at each of them in turn.

They nodded once more.

"What we're going to do now is go to the airport and catch the first flight out to the UK. When we get there, we will go to the Immigration Service and ask for asylum. I don't know how long it's going to take, but I'm sure that we will get it with time."

We drove silently for around another 30 minutes, the sky getting darker with the passage of time, the quadruplets staring in fascination at the increasing number of planes flying overhead. We arrived at the airport and I parked the car in the long-stay car park. By now, the sky was pitch-black.

"OK guys, we're here, but you need to sit still for a moment to calm down.We don't want to attract unwanted attention to ourselves. Especially not when we're going through Customs. If we do, we might be detained and enslaved when they find out what we did. Not if, but when."

The quadruplets and I sat in the car silently for about 5 minutes, calming down to almost normal levels. I then got out of the car and opened the boot so that my brothers could take a suitcase each, and I my backpack and school bag.

"Right, let's go inside and see if we can find ourselves a plane!"

Tom led off, followed by Ed, then Davey and finally, Adam. It suddenly struck me that I had never seen them walk in any other order, ever. It was always oldest to youngest. I followed Adam and directed Tom to the terminal from my vantage point at the back. We walked into the terminal and checked the departures board for the company abbreviation of the first London-bound plane out.

[BA, British Airways, good. Now, where's their desk?]

I looked round the luggage check-in desks until I saw theirs.

"Let's go get our tickets. Follow me."

As there was nobody waiting in a queue for the desks, I walked straight up to the clerk.

"Good evening, I would like to book 5 tickets, economy class on the next plane to London, please."

"Certainly, sir. We have 5 seats next to each other if nobody has any preferences about where they sit."

"That'll be fine, thanks." I replied, relieved that we would be out very wuickly.

"That's $600 in total, then, sir,"

I retrieved my wallet brom my backpack and counted it out to her in $50 notes.

"If I could take a look at your passports please, so that we may have your names."

"Sure." I fished our passports out of my backpack and handed them to the clerk.

She typed our names into her computer, printed our tickets, along with some luggage labels (she'd obviously already counted the number of pieces we had) and handed our tickets and passports back to me.

"If you would put your luggage on the belt for me, please, gentlemen."

I did as I was asked and the clerk tagged all the suitcases. She gave me the last two tags to put on my hand-luggage. I saw that the tags had my name on them and 'LHR' in big letters. No way would they go to the wrong person or place, except by human error.

"Check-in closes in 10 minutes, so you need to get going if you wish to catch this flight. Have a good flight, gentlemen."

"Thanks." I responded. "Come on guys, we need to get a move-on."

We walked quickly to the combined check-in desks, were processed and entered the Duty Free area in front of Customs. I checked our departure gate on the board (44) and found that it was at the far end. We had around 45 minutes until boarding.

[OK, let the quadruplets shop for 15 minutes for more interesting stuff to keep them entertained. Then we really need to get going. It's not going to be a short walk.]

"Right, you've got 5 minutes to get stuff to entertain you during the flight. No more."

I gave them $50 each and let them wander off, keeping a close eye on where they went from the centre of the fairly small Duty Free hall. I saw that there were only about 10 shops in all. I saw all 4 of them walk into the travel-games store (still in age order). They came out again 5 minutes later with 4 decks of playing cards and an UNO deck. I took their decks and put them in my backpack. I then led them to the sweet shop that I had seen earlier with good offers. I walked them inside to where the good offers were (big boxes of Basset's sweets).

"You can have one box each, so pick one. The box that you pick may be shared between you if you don't mind, but you may also reserve it for yourself. It's your choice."

They picked one of each (Jelly Babies, Wine Gums and Liquorice Allsorts) and another of Jelly Babies. I picked one of Jelly Babies for myself and added another Wine Gums to take advantage of the second part of the offer (3 for 2). I decided that was enough to keep them hyper through the whole flight, but decided that they needed something more substantial as well, so I took them across the hall to the sandwich shop. I let them buy 3 meals worth of sandwiches each and bought only 2 sets for me (I'm not quite the bottomless pit that they are). By this time, our 15 minutes was up, so I said:

"Time to get going, we need to walk quite a long way once we get through Customs. Customs may want to wand you to make sure that you don't have a slave chip, so stay calm if that happens."

As it happened, only I was wanded by Customs. Obviously the quadruplets were far too charming. Passport control went without a glitch, so we made quick progress towards the gate. We arrived 10 minutes early, but it is always better to arrive early than late, so I wasn't complaining. About five minutes before boarding was to start, the personnel turned up and started to get everything ready. The gate opened for boarding right on the dot. We were the only ones there at this early juncture, so we decided that now was as good a time as any to get on. As we approached, the desk steward requested our tickets:

"Boarding passes, please."

I handed them over; the steward quickly checked them and let us on. We were pointed to our seats by the hostesses and sat down to wait for all the other passengers. Our seats were two consecutive rows next to the windows on the left of the cabin. Tom and Ed took the one in front, while Davey and Adam took the one behind (still in age order!), whom I joined, sitting next to the aisle in order to be able to get to any of them quickly if they needed my help. I asked a stewardess for 4 empty cups, which were brought to me in due course. I started to divide the first pack of Jelly Babies between the 4 cups. I kept going until there were 25 Jelly Babies in each cup, but kept them for the time being. As I was wondering how we would be able to tell which cup was whose, I remembered the sticky circles that I used to mark up my school textbooks. I had four colours (red, green, white and yellow), so there wasn't a problem. I assigned green to Ed (for emerald), white to Davey (for diamond), red to Tom (at least, I think tourmaline's most common colour is red) and yellow to Adam (for amber). After about 15 minutes, the cabin was teeming with life and there were very few seats remaining. No sooner had I noticed this than the hostesses began their safety announcements while the airlock was closed. By the time they had finished, we were at the start of the runway. The quadruplets had never flown before, so I put on an air of calm, which seemed to dissipate their nervousness. It was at this point that I handed out the cups to my brothers, making sure that the correct spot went to the right person and pointing out the spots to them. This got me thinking; how would people be able to tell them apart when we got to the UK? I went through several ideas (including rings, bracelets and tattoos), but decided that a discrete gemmed stud in one of their earlobes with the gemstone that I remembered their names by above would be the best option.

Snapping back to the present, I realised that we had already taken off without me realising it. I relaxed somewhat, knowing that it would be unlikely that we would return to the airport, just to return a few delinquents. The two pairs of the quadruplets decided to play a game of Bataille, so I joined in with Davey and Adam to pass the time. We played away 2 hours in this fashion before we decided it was time to eat a proper meal. I distributed a set of sandwiches, and they disappeared within 10 minutes, except mine which lasted twice as long. I then passed out another set of 25 sweets and started a conversation between us.

"How are you all coping so far with moving?"

"It's fun, but we're going to miss all our friends," replied Adam, obviously speaking for all of them, as the others nodded at his words.

"At least you'll be able to find new friends new friends in the UK. In America, you would have lost all the ones you already had anyway. Now, there's another thing that I would like to discuss with you. While I and your closest friends have been able, to a certain extent, to tell you apart, nobody in the UK will. Therefore, I am suggesting that we splash out just a little and get you an ear-stud each...," I began.

"Cool!!!," came the unison interruption. "Mum and Dad would never let us get one," finished Ed.

"Glad to know that you like the idea, so that's a go, then?" I waited for the group nod. "OK, what I suggest is that you each have one with a different gemstone in it. I would suggest Tourmaline for Tom, a dark red, Emerald for Ed, a rich green, Diamond for Davey, a white, and Amber for Adam, an orange. What does everybody think about my suggestions?" I asked, looking around at them all.

"Sounds good," replied Tom.

"Nice," stated Ed.

"Yep," said Davey.

"Let's do it," enthused Adam.

"Right, that's settled, then. We'll probably have to wait a little bit before we can get it done, though."

We chatted about nothing in particular for another half-hour, before I decided it was time to go to sleep. It was now gone 2am. Far too late for me; especially as we would have a lot of legal paperwork to get through tomorrow. I bade goodnight to the quadruplets, who quickly did the same, and on seeing they were of the same opinion, lay my head on Adam's shoulder as he lay his on Davey's and Davey leaned into the window. I saw Tom and Ed do the same in the row in fron of us. A quick glance at the rest of the cabin told me that almost everyone was now asleep or in a stupor. I cast my mind back over the last 6 hours and thought that far too much had happened in that time. All my brothers were asleep in minutes while I stayed awake, sleep eluding me, mulling everything over in my head. I decided that I wouldn't be able to slip into a proper sleep, so I sat up, leaned back an allowed myself to slip into a stupor (a state that I had discovered many years ago that allowed my mind to rest, but kept me aware of everything happening around me. If anyone walked past me while in this state, I would know). About an hour later, I felt a need to pee, so I brought myself out of my stupor and waited a few minutes to allow my eyes to adjust to the light once more. I got up and walked down the aisle to the back and slipped into one of the cubicles. I turned to face the toilet, unzipped my trousers, pulled my penis out through the fly of my boxers, skinned back and let fly. My word, the relief was sublime. I must have drunk a lot if I had to pee this much! I stood there for what was easily 3 minutes. The only entertainment I found was the come stain next to the sink. I finished up, shook myself before tucking myself back in, making sure my foreskin covered the glans (there's nothing more uncomfortable for an uncut guy than having your exposed glans rub against your abrasive clothing; it hurts!), zipped up and washed my hands before returning to my seat to slip back into my restful stupor.

I roused myself once more around 4 or 5 hours later when I heard the captain announce that we would be landing at Heathrow in another 30 minutes. I woke the quadruplets and gave them their second set of sandwiches to eat for breakfast. I had my last set of sandwiches. When we finished, I sent the quadruplets to the toilets in pairs so that they could do their business. I went once they had all returned. I got back to my seat in time for descent to start. Soon enough, I felt the aircraft's wheels hit the ground and the plane slow down. A few minutes later, we were at a standstill, waiting for the mobile canopy to be connected to the plane. Once the canopy was attached, 2 police officers strolled onto the plane and looked around. One of them asked a stewardess something. The stewardess immediately led them towards us, but no further than the entrance to the cabin. One of the police officers then took charge.

"Good morning ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to London. Could we check your passports, please?"

[Why now? Surely we're not going to be deported just after we arrive!] I thought with growing worry.

I quickly noticed the officers were only checking certain passports (blue ones that suspiciously looked like American ones; ones like ours). Once the passenger had their passport checked, they were allowed to leave the plane. I saw one officer glance our way, stop what he was doing and cock his head as though he were scrutinising me, deciding whether we were the ones he wanted or not. He then noticed my brothers and his eyes shot open. He turned to his colleague and said:

"Bro', could you come here, please; I think I've found 'em."

I turned to the person he was talking to and found myself looking into the same face. His eyes met mine and, as a shiver passed down my spine, lost myself in those startlingly clear pools of blue. What I saw and subsequently felt surprised me; his eyes showed compassion, empathy, understanding, welcoming and, dare I say it, interest bordering on love. Sensing no hostility, I calmed down. Holding his gaze, I delved ever deeper into his thoughts and even soul. Unbeknown to me, his twin closed in on us, holding 5 yellow bands. Suddenly, my line of sight was blocked. I blinked twice and raised my eyes to meet those of the first twin. He looked down at me and I felt that same connection imbuing a sense of peace and calm I had never felt before. He spoke. I saw his mouth move, but heard no sound. I mentally shook myself.

"Sorry, I missed that; could you say it again, please?" I asked, turning red in the face.

"Sure," he said unconcernedly. "Could I see you passports, please?"

"Um..., sure..., just a sec." I replied, delving into my backpack.

I brought them out and straightened up again, now even redder, thinking I had made a fool of myself. He took them and checked their state emblem. It was at that point that I finally noticed the yellow bands in his hand. I looked at them, wondering what they were for (my mind had gone comletely blank), but my thoughts were quickly interrupted be the twin standing next to me.

"Thank you; you are the ones we are looking for. Would you please wait here," he said softly. Turning to the rest of the cabin, he continued. "Thank you for your time, ladies and gentlemen; you may go."

The cabin slowly cleared, people looking at us, questions in their eyes. The second twin joined us as the stragglers left.

"Hi, let me introduce us. I'm Mike and this is my twin, Scott," said the second twin. "The way to tell us apart is by noticing that I'm right-handed and Scott is left-handed."

"Now, down to business. What's been arranged is that we take you with us to fill out paperwork, but before then, I need to grant you temporary immunity. The next bit may sound rather foreboding, but I have to say it to cover myself. 'By the authority issued unto me under the Police Protection Order issued by the Servant's Tribunal, I grant the five persons, Jesse Jonathan Jamesson, Thomas Henry Jamesson, Edward Henry Jamesson, David Henry Jamesson and Adam Henry Jamesson temporary immunity until such time as the Servant's Tribunal passes judgement on all five cases. To signify this immunity, a tracker wristband is to be worn on th right wrist by all five of the aforementioned persons at all times. Removal of this wristband is to render this person liable to extradition. Should the wristband be proven to have broken, and not removed, immunity continues and a new wristband is to be issued. This tracker wristband is to lemon yellow and must bear the royal blue words 'Immunity - American Penal Systems Act 1980' in the authorised typeface. This Order has been brought to completion on this Fifth day of August Two thousand and four at Eight Fifteen am Greenwich Mean Time.' You need to put these on your right wrist now," said Mike, holding out the five wristbands.

I took them and quickly closed them around each of the quadruplets' right wrist and then, finally on mine. I tested mine and found that they were extremely unlikely to come off (you can't take them off without cutting them off).

"How did you know we were coming? We didn't tell a soul that we were leaving," I asked.

"The New Hampshire State Sheriff found your father dead in your home after being called to the scene by a neighbour." [Oops!] I thought. "He went to the Federal Court and requested an arrest warrant for all 5 of you. By the time your plane took off, the arrest warrants had been issued and you were wanted men. The State Police had Troopers scouring the area for you while others checked local airports for tickets in your names. They were too late; you had already taken off. The Sheriff returned to court and requested an upgrade to an international arrest warrant with a view to Britain, so one of our agents that we have in the American Criminal Justice System told the Servant's Tribunal that you were fleeing to us. The Servant's Tribunal is a 24 hours-a-day, 365 days-a-year affair, so they issued the Order immediately. All we had to do was wait. We're glad we that we got to you before the Americans recalled your flight or you got off the plane without us, because then the CIA would effictively have free-reign," explained Scott.

At that, I broke down and cried with joy, as we had made it without realising how close we had come to being arrested. I quickly found myself being lifted to my feet by Scott. Scott turned me to face him and collected me into a hug with his strong, powerful arms.

"There-there, you're safe now. You're not going back, provided you spend any necessary time in prison," whispered Scott into my ear. Once he sensed that I had no second thoughts about hugging him, he continued. "You're cute, you know. I like you. You are one brave person. I find there are so few people with that quality. It just goes to show what a wonderful person you are. Your brothers are very lucky to have you, and long may that be so."

I stood there with Scott, embracing him for another 15 minutes at least. I never wanted to end the embrace; I enjoyed the contact, safety and love he was giving too much. Unfortunately, all good things have to come to an end. We eventually broke apart, but not before I'd whispered 'Thank you' to Scatt and given him a kiss on the cheek. Scott returned the kiss and smiled at me. I turned to look at Mike and found him in a five-way hug with my brothers. He looked happy enough; he had a huge grin on his face, holding Adam and Ed to his front, while Tom and Davey plastered themselves to his back. I picked up my bags and managed to pry the quadruplets from Mike. They quickly crowded round me in a circle, facing the exit. Mike turned and led the way out while Scott followed behind.

Here ends Chapter 1 of Our New Family. This is the first story I have ever written for non-school purposes. I hope to see you in the next part! If you have any comments or suggestions, you can contact me by e-mail at sable.author@googlemail.com. Please include 'Nifty' and the title. If you don't your e-mail is likely to get lost, as this is the only e-mail address I will be using for all my stories, which will be on many sites in different languages.

I hope to be able to translyte the story into as many different languages as possible, so please be patient if you don't see regular updates. If you wish to wait for the foreign language versions, they will appear in Dutch, German, French and, with time, Russian. Depending on the webmasters' wishes, they may or may not appear on Nifty.

Please consider supporting Nifty financially. If you can't (like me), consider contributing in another way. This is my way of contributing.

American alternatives:

Grievous Bodily Harm => Great Bodily Harm
Car park => Parking lot
Sweets => Candy
Loo => Bathroom
Trousers => Pants
Social Services => Child Protective Service
Boot => Trunk

Acknowledgements:

(1) Modest Servant Chapter 3 by Steam Train (Authoritarian)[modified] Steam train retains any copyrights.