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 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, though slavery is used as a means to get the story moving and onto 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 I know. This story is my work, and should not be reproduced in any way (with the exception of one electronic copy for you 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 attributed to me unless otherwise stated by my own acknowledgement to someone else. Plagiarism is a Criminal Offence under any penal code I have ever come across, so please do not commit this offence. At this point in time, Nifty holds the only authorised English copy in the public domain outside my possession. Any changes in possessions shall be notified in later chapters. All copyrights are my own. Any legal aspects are governed by British Law. Enjoy!
Copyright Sable 2006 (11/02/2007)
Our New Family
We fell silent and about five minutes later, the boys came back looking much more relaxed. When Mike had sat down again, the Quadruplets took their places on the twins' knees once more, much to the twins' disappointment, I'm sure.
"I have a message for you, Jesse; the judge reviewing your case has decided to complete as much of your application as possible while you are in hospital. This means that you should expect her to visit later on today."
"Great, doesn't the invalid get any respite? My head's about to explode because of all this effort."
"Nope. The judge is also no-nonsense, so you'll need to be alert when she gets here."
"Ugh," I moaned, before closing my eyes to think everything through in Morpheus's refreshing world.
=I'm standing in the middle of Heathrow with people rushing around me. I'm all alone; no brothers, no twins; just bustling holidaymakers. Every once in a while, somebody knocks into me with their trolley, or just plain walks into me. I don't know what I'm doing here, no idea whatsoever. I turn slowly, taking everything in. I see a man not too far away, not doing anything. I decide to talk to him. I barge my way across the floor and stand next to him.-
-"Excuse me, sir...," I start.-
-The man doesn't respond. I decide to try again, thinking he didn't hear me.-
-"Excuse me, sir."-
-Still no response. I decided to test his sight and waved my hand in front of his face.-
-"Still no response; great. Is there anyone else standing around?"-
-I look around, but this man is the only one standing around doing nothing.-
-"Is there anywhere I can sit down?"-
-I spot a bench on the far side of the hall that's free and start to barge my way through the crowd to get there. I sat down and hoped that someone would soon join me, so that I could finally find out what I was doing here at all. Unfortunately, I had no such luck. 15 minutes later, and I was still on my own. 5 minutes later still, the hall was empty except for me, but not for long, as 3 men dressed in green walked in mere seconds later. As I was the only other person in the hall, they quickly spotted me. They pulled out 3 sub-machine guns and aimed them at me. Don't ask me where they got them from; I'm not concerned about that, I just want out. I rolled sideways off the bench in a panic before I got up and sprinted to the nearest door, bullets suddenly ricocheting around me. It was a push door, so I just barged straight through it and sprinted down the corridor as fast as I could. I ran round the next corner and then a left into another corridor before picking a random room and pushing my way in.-
-"Sir, what are you doing here? You shouldn't even be here. Would you please get out!"-
-"Shit, what do I do now?!" I thought, spinning round to confront the woman who had just `spoken' to me.-
-The woman was fairly young, 25 at a guess. She also had loads of little children running around her.-
-"I'm in a creche!"-
-"You can see me?!"-
-"Of course I can. What do you take me for?, an idiot?"-
-"No, of course not! I'm just trying to get away."-
-"Oh really? Andy, grab the man."-
-One of the boys ran forwards, grabbed me just below my crotch and gave me a judicious tug. Pain exploded in my penis.-
-"Oooooowwwww!!! What are you doing?!?!," I screamed in agony, "and what could possibly cause so much pain?!"-
-My hands dove in the top of my trousers and started rooting around to find out the cause of the pain.-
-"Get your hands out of your trousers, you pervert!," she screamed at me, while she drew her hand back. "Throw him in the big cupboard until the inspectors leave, Andy."-
-While my mind reeled from the slap my face had just received, my hands had now found my penis and were examining it. I came across a tube coming out the end of my penis. It felt faintly familiar.-
-"Catheter, I'm catheterised!," I gasped through the pain. "Don't pull, I'll come."-
-My pleas made no difference whatsoever. Andy still tugged as hard as ever, and we made as little progress as ever across the room with me bent over double from the pain. Eventually we made it to the said cupboard. Andy stopped pulling and everyone crowded round me before pushing me forwards into the open cupboard. I tripped over the edge and fell straight through the back of the cupboard. The weird thing is I didn't hit anything, I just kept falling. I got bored after a while, just in time to fall into a snow drift.-
-"Jesus, that's cold!"-
-I got up and was surrounded by children once again. I automatically moved my hands to cover my crotch. No way did I ever want to be grabbed there again while I was catheterised. I glanced round and spotted Mike and Scott changing a young boy's nappy. It looked as though it was high summer. Suddenly, I felt a tugging at my hand, stopping any thoughts that may have formed in my head; I found a girl pulling me towards a sandbox next to the Twins. I went along with her until we reached the twins; where I stopped and resisted any further movement. I turned to face the Twins and found Scott looking at me intently.-
-"Hi, JJ, would you like a change?," asked Scott.-
-I looked around, bewildered, thinking he was talking to another child, whilst looking at me. I could find no such boy, so I realised that he must be talking to me.-
-"You... You're talking to me?," I stammered, staring wide-eyed at Scott.-
-"Of course; who else? Now, would you like me to change your nappy?"-
-"Um..., I'm catheterised, not wearing a nappy, Scott."-
-"OK. Would you like to sit down, JJ?"-
-"Sure," I said, turning round.-
-I sat down and immediately felt like I was sitting on a cushion.-
-"I'm not sure that being catheterised involves wearing a cushion."-
-I got up again and pulled down my trousers. Lo' and behold, I was wearing a nappy.-
-"How......, How did that... get there?," I asked, now thoroughly confused.-
-"Have you been lying to me, JJ? Because if you have, it's punishment time," said Scott absolutely serious.-
-"No, please! I didn't know! Don't punish me. I swear I didn't know I had one on!," I pleaded, now close to panic.-
-"Scott, I think he's telling the truth. He's far too panicked not to be," noted Mike, saving me.-
-"Well..., OK. You're off the hook this time, JJ. But you will be changed. You can't argue about that."-
-"If...... you... must," I responded, still recovering from the shock.-
-"Well, we don't know how long you've been wearing that nappy, do we?"-
-"I suppose not," I admitted.-
-"Lie down on the sheet then, please."-
-I did as I was told and lay down on my back. Scott knelt on his knees by my feet. He reached up and removed my trousers completely before crawling up between my legs. Once he was a comfortable distance away from my crotch, he leaned down and pulled my plastic pants down. He then unpinned the cloth nappy I was wearing, while I turned beet red from embarrassment. It was wet, which I hadn't expected, and proceeded to wipe me clean. He skinned me back and removed any smegma that had built up on my glans. Once done, he recovered my glans, oiled and powdered me before pinning another set of cloth nappies on me. He pulled up my plastic pants again before returning my trousers to me, picking me up, placing me on his lap with my back to his chest and wrapping his arms round me. It felt so natural to me that I could do nothing more than sigh and lean backwards into his warm embrace.-
-"Comfortable, JJ?," asked Scott.-
-"Mmmmm," I responded, relaxing even further.-
-"So, JJ. What have you been doing that makes you believe that you've been catheterised?," asked a curious Scott.-
-"Could I just ask you a question before I answer yours?," I asked.-
-"Does everybody here wear nappies?," I asked timidly.-
-"All the younger kids do as well as a select few of the older ones, but the majority don't. Neither do we, except you," replied Scott instantly.-
-"Oh.... Right..., well...," I stuttered.-
-"Now, how about answering my question?"-
-"Sure.... Erm.... I don't think you'll believe me."-
-"Why wouldn't I? Try me."-
-"It's a weird story, but I'll give it a go....," I began.-
-I closed my eyes and continued by reciting the whole chronology of events that I had lived through, leaving nothing out as well as not leaving anything to Scott's imagination, every event replaying in my mind's eye. Throughout this, Scott held me in his safe arms, lovingly cradling me. After my recount, all were silent while processing all I had said. After a time, which also included immobility, Mike broke the silence.-
-"That's quite some story, JJ. I'm not entirely sure what to make of it. What do you think, Scott?"-
-"I don't know what to make of it. JJ definitely sounds like he believes everything he said. Oh well, let's leave it for now. It's getting quite late, JJ, so I think it's time to sleep a little, don't you think?," suggested Scott.-
-I'd been through enough for one day, so I voted in favour of the motion before settling down (still in Scott's arms), sighing contentedly, closing my eyes once more and again slipping over the border of consciousness.-
-"Sleep tight, JJ," came the muffled speech, just before I passed out.=
I opened my eyes and saw all my regular visitors staring at me.
"What?," I asked.
"You make interesting facial expressions when you sleep," commented Scott.
"We had quite the range, didn't we, Mike?"
"We certainly did. From bewilderment to shock, pain and contentment, though I think the pain may have been because he almost pulled his catheter out when he was moving around quite a lot."
"Ah...," I thought, as those were the feelings I'd had throughout what I now realised was a dream.
"Has the specialist been past since I fell asleep?," I asked no one in particular.
"Not yet," responded Mike.
At this point, the specialist wandered in.
"Speaking of the devil," chimed in Scott.
"Good afternoon, Jesse. How are you feeling?," asked the specialist.
"Bar a slight stinging feeling in my... penis, I feel absolutely fine," I answered, blushing.
"I think I can explain the stinging, doctor," piped up Scott. "He was tossing and turning quite a lot in his sleep, and his catheter ended up wound round his leg quite a lot. He ended up almost pulling it out."
"That would explain it, yes. Have you reached a decision about what you are going to do, Jesse?"
"I believe I have, sir..."
"Doctor, or James if you don't mind, Jesse," interrupted the specialist. "After all, I'm not your master."
"Certainly, Doctor. I think I would prefer to wear nappies, rather than be catheterised."
"That's not a problem, but it requires a bit more thought as to which nappy type and brand you wish to wear," said the specialist.
"Could you explain, please," I requested.
"Of course. There are two main groups you have to worry about; cloth and disposables. You could even use a mixture of both. The main differences between them are the cost, size and absorbency."
"Do you have any leaflets or other information pertaining to the differences, doctor?"
"Why, certainly. I also have a couple of websites that you may find useful. I will get them to you as soon as possible," replied James. "In the mean time, do you have any other questions?"
"Is it necessary to have this catheter in?"
"As we don't stock adult nappies, I'm afraid it is, for now. Should you select a brand you like, there is nothing to stop you using them, provided that disposable ones are disposed of in the biological waste, the yellow bin, or cloth ones are removed from the site as quickly as possible. They would be considered a health risk, should they not be disposed of appropriately or removed from the premises. The choice is yours. Any more for any more questions?"
Everybody shook their heads, so James left, leaving us to our own devices. Everybody turned to look at me.
"Out with it! Why's everyone looking at me?," I demanded, now getting seriously worried.
"What made you suddenly give an answer?," asked Scott in amazement.
"Let's just say that dreaming work wonders," I replied after giving it a bit of thought. "Say, did the judge give any idea as to what time she would be here?"
"Not really, though she did say she'd be here as soon as possible once she's finished hearing another of her cases," replied Mike. "She should finish her day about sixteen hundred, why?"
"I just like to have all the information I can."
I looked at the clock.
"Half-past four already?! She won't be long, then."
We returned to silence for the next 5 minutes, until we were interrupted by a young boy's voice outside:
"", C <5=O 5ABL 18;5B 4;O <5B@0, ?0?0!""
A man responded.
""/ 7=0N, !0I0, O 7=0N.""
At this point, David, who had been listing attentatively turned to face us and hissed; "that's Russian!"
Nobody had time to respond as both man and boy walked through the door. They strode up to the bottom of my bed before the man spoke to me in a dwindling Russian accent.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Jamesson." He hesitated a moment before continuing, "I was rather hoping her Honour would already be here, but no matter."
I was still unsure of who he was, and it showed in my silence. David capitalised.
I turned to stare at David, while the newcomer didn't seem at all perturbed.
"">1@K9 45=L. 0: B51O 7>2CB?""
David concentrated for a while, before his face lit up and responded.
""5=O 7>2CB 0284, 0 BK?""
The new boy pulled a face.
""5=O 7>2CB 8:8B0, 8 53> 7>2CB !0I0. = AK= <>9.""
Now David looked really confused. The man picked up on it.
"Confused, David?," he asked with a small smirk.
David reddened slightly before nodding shyly.
"There's nothing to be ashamed of, you did remarkably well for an American! Most wouldn't even know how to say `hello'. Just to let you off the hook; I'm Nikita and this is my son, Sascha."
David, now recovered, tried speaking to Sascha.
""@825B! -B> A5<LO B2>O?,"" responded Sascha, gesturing at us all.
"Sascha, stick to the simple things for now, or you'll never get him to speak Russian again. You can repeat the question in English," admonished Nikita, while David looked confused once more.
""@>AB8B5!" Is this your family?," asked Sascha.
"Not all. The police officers aren't, but everyone else is my brother."
""0: 8E 7>2CB?""
David responded by pointing at each of us in turn. First me, then his brothers in age order, before finally naming the twins.
""3> 7>2CB 65A8; 53> 7>2CB "><0A; 53> 7>2CB -4C0@4; 53> 7>2CB 40<, 8 8E 7>2CB 8E08; 8 !:>B.""
Nikita looked suitably impressed at David's performance.
"His Russian isn't perfect, but it's perfectly understandable. It'll improve with use. But the first thing to improve is accent."
Now recovered from the shock of having a Russian-speaking brother, I saw fit to respond.
"Where in earth did you learn to speak Russian, David? And what are you here for, Nikita?," I demanded.
David responded first.
"I went to the library a few times. One of my classmates was Russian, too."
"Oh.... What about you, Nikita?"
"I'm your Tribunal appointed lawyer stroke barrister, though there's not much I can do without the judge here, as I hear you already know the Act in detail. The one thing I can do is train you in court etiquette, which is very important."
Now that the extended introductions were complete, the newcomers sat down to chat with us while we waited for the judge to turn up. We didn't have to wait long, but between us, we had explained to Nikita the circumstances and subsequent events that had brought us to our current position. A mere 15 minutes later, we were joined by a well-dressed woman, about 35 years old and very business-like.
"This has got to be the judge."
Nikita confirmed my suspicions when he got up and greeted her.
"Good afternoon, your Honour," he said, while bowing his head in respect.
"How many times do I have to tell you, Nikita; you can dispense with the formalities when out of court," was her quick response. "Oh, you brought Sascha along, too, I see."
"Yes, unfortunately I couldn't get anybody to watch him while I was gone. It's one of the reasons why I asked for the day off, but no matter."
Nikita closed and locked the door before both turned to me and the introductions began.
"Jesse, this is Judge Samantha Knights; she will be reviewing your Case."
I greeted her with a `good afternoon' before she was led off to be introduced to everyone else. After a few minutes, during which time I'd had the opportunity to observe her, she was where she had started once more. She seemed like a nice woman; she was courteous, but business-like. She also looked like she would be fair. I don't think I could ask for much more than that. She drew up another chair and sat down before unlocking her briefcase and pulling out copies of our Forms and a few I didn't recognise.
"Would you like Sascha to leave, Mr. Jamesson?"
"Jesse, please. No need, after all, I've got nothing to hide."
"First things first; are you intending on representing yourself and your brothers?"
"Of course; no question about it."
"Would you like the cases dealt with separately or amalgamated into one?"
"As one, please."
"You have listed two charges against your name, is that correct?"
"To the charge of Theft, would you plead `Guilty' or `Not guilty'?"
"To the charge of Murder, would you plead `Guilty' or `Not guilty'?"
"Should it be put to you; to the option of Conspiracy to Murder, would you plead `Guilty' or `Not guilty'?"
"Excuse me?" I asked bewildered.
"In the UK, we have conspiracy laws. In this instance, the offence Conspiracy to Murder is where you actively plot to kill someone, but either have someone else do it for you or are stopped from carrying it out by outside influences."
"Conspiracy laws.... How queer."
"Do these appear under every charge?"
"Theoretically. It's just very difficult to prove for certain offences. If I may put it to you again, please;..."
"Not guilty," I interrupted.
"To the option of Manslaughter, would you plead `Guilty' or `Not guilty'?"
"Could you explain the details of this, please, as the American judicial system hasn't used this charge in twenty years."
"Certainly. Manslaughter is where for example you set out to commit Theft with Intent, it then gets out of hand and you end up killing the victim. You could also set out to commit ABH or GBH. It could even be without Intent."
"Where you set out to commit a crime with the intention of using violence should the victim be uncooperative."
"Oh... right.... I plead `Guilty' to Manslaughter."
"OK..., that's the charges dealt with. For your brothers, you've only written `Indenturable'. Is there evidence for this?"
"Certainly, if you can get someone to check it out; we have a step-brother who was indentured by his own biological father for being gay. It just so happens that all five of us are too. Also, we have no known family left in the US, so on our return, I would be indentured under the charges and my brothers under the pretence of not having anyone to care for them, after all, they are now of indenturable age," I said, trying my best to keep my emotions in check.
Obviously, I didn't quite manage, because Mike moved to my side and placed his arm round my shoulders. The judge raised her eyebrows at this, but remained silent.
"Because of this, they fall under the clause `The Act currently defines Indenturable Persons as those of age Thirteen years and upwards to a maximum of Twenty-one years of age', of the `American Penal Systems Act 2000,'" I continued. (Sable, 2006)
"They certainly do. As they have no charges against them, there is nothing barring them from immediately receiving British Citizenship or their Passports, once in court. However, where you are concerned, the charges need to be contested first, or more specifically, the murder charge. America will still want to get the maximum penalty for you, however, that is unlikely, as you will plead guilty to the lesser charge of manslaughter. They need to demonstrate intent, which is not something easily done. You will need to testify. Your brothers too, if they know anything about the situation."
"They do; they were there when it happened."
"OK. I'll also teach them about court etiquette," responded Nikita.
"Do you have any other evidence to support your case?" asked the judge.
"Certainly. It's in my luggage, however."
"Officers, would one of you please retrieve Jesse's luggage."
"Scott, it's in my backpack," I said, halting Scott in his tracks.
"Thank you," he replied before he pulled on the door handle.
The door didn't open. Puzzled, he tried again. It still didn't open. He checked the lock and left, while the rest of us smirked.
"Is there any more evidence?"
"Mike, could you retrieve my wallet, please?"
"Sure," he said before letting me go and looking in my night table.
He rummaged around for a few minutes before straightening up again and handing me my wallet. I opened it and took out all the money I had in there.
"This is all stolen but not the entirety of it. Scott's bringing the rest. This is also a passport photo of Simon. There is a much better, but also more sentimental one in my backpack."
"Fine. Do you object to us making a copy of the photograph?"
"Not at all. Just don't damage it."
"It won't be."
Now all we had to do was wait for Scott to return. Then I could give the last of my evidence.
Here ends Chapter 4 of Our New Family. This is the first story I have written for non-school purposes. I hope to see you in the next part! If you have any comments or suggestions, please feel free to email me at email@example.com. Please use the link provided to avoid having your email lost in the spam folder, as I use filters.
Please consider supporting Nifty financially. If you can't, like me, please consider contributing in another way. This is mine.
For those of you who are interested in having the neat version of Chapter 1, now that I've revised it, 6 months after it was first `published', again, contact me by email, but this time using this link: firstname.lastname@example.org. This version has no changes in its storyline, though it is more aesthetically pleasing and more readable. The changes are to do with grammar and synonyms. The same will happen for all chapters around 6 months after their original publication. The other change is there is now a proper reference list and bibliography at the end of each chapter, where applicable.
Queer => weird
Sable (2006) Our New Family APSAs.html. [Online] Available from: our-new-family-appendix.html [Accessed 11th February 2007]