Date: Wed, 11 Jun 2014 09:36:05 -0400 From: d.a. w Subject: Miracle Chapters 4 and 5 IMAGINE waking up in the morning, or coming home in the evening and clicking on the NIFTY tab ready to read some more great stories, and nothing happens. Nifty is gone, and you remember that often you were asked to help keep the site available, and always thought "I should do that." but you never did. Think about that possibility for a minute, and then support Nifty to keep it here when you want it. CHAPTER 4 To Market, To Market, To Market We Will Go... The next morning we were awake even before TRAINER and the guards came for us. We thought we would show our appreciation by being at attention, in a good straight row, with our cocks hard and erect, and flexed to show our improved posture, and also our compliance. When Trainer entered with the guards, they stopped in their tracks, and genuinely smiled, and unbelievably Trainer applauded us. The guards hastily joined in. "WELL DONE SLAVES!" was Trainer's comment as he approached our cage. "With an attitude like that and with those great `SHOW' bodies, you will bring on a great competition for you, and the higher the price, the more you ensure that you will be a very well treated and well cared for show coffle." When a guard unlocked the cage's door, we continued our display of how well trained we were. We marched through the gates so that our feet struck the floor at the exact same time, and we kept our eyes straight ahead. As we moved, guided though through our peripheral vision, we went exactly to the place we were to go to line up for inspection. We executed the maneuver precisely, and once again we were rewarded by comments from Trainer and the guards of "GREAT," and "SUPER." We were loaded into a slave carrier, which is like a police paddy wagon, but the sides are barred and open to the observation of free persons. The sides bore the notation "SLAVES IN TRANSIT. DO NOT APPROACH!" We should have realized that the note not to approach was not meant for our protection from free persons, but more likely more a warning to be careful of the potentially wild animals. We were, I guess, great examples of the Stockholm syndrome. Our trip to market was not an extremely long one. I would guess maybe about an hour, and we could tell we were there. We were in a stop-and-go mode, and even inside the wagon we heard that we were being assigned a cage. We felt our transport being backed up to a parking spot, and then, after some more conversations which we could hear as sound, but not distinct words, our guards with two new guards appeared and opened the cage door. "Slaves" a new guard addressed us. "OUT and FORM!" We knew the command and organized ourselves in order, stooped over, and exited the transport. Immediately we formed up, stood at slave rest, and awaited our orders. "COFFLE FOLLOW" was the next order, and as first in line, I carefully focused on the shoes on the guard, and in unison we followed those shoes to a slave pen. I heard the door being unlocked, and then the order "ENTER! THEN LINE UP IN SLAVE REST!" We moved inside the cage, turned and lined up, and immediately stood at slave rest facing the bars of the cage, and kept our eyes respectfully on the floor. We heard the cage door being closed and locked, and since no order was given to relax we remained in slave rest standing position. We had learned that even though this position was not really a relaxed position, it did not require us to tense our muscles for slave display, and therefore was not an uncomfortable way to await our next orders. Slave time has no relationship to free time. We waited in position for what did seem a fairly long time, but certainly within our training. Then we perceived a group of free men gathering outside our cage. We heard our trainer's voice saying "We believe that this coffle should be sold as a show coffle..." At this point I stopped listening to words and only concentrated on readiness to hear an order. We had practiced this skill. Our ears were trained only to really process slave orders. Suddenly and order was said loudly "SLAVES. DISPLAY!" We immediately snapped to position, and were proud that we demonstrated our training and were in complete unison. The new free man issued several orders and we executed them as the well-trained coffle we now were. At the end of several orders, we were returned to slave rest position, and the cage door was unlocked, and we saw the polished boots of Trainer, and two sets of much more worn, and less polished boots. We were now given a thorough slave evaluation examination. One set of "dirty" boots seemed more interested in our musculature, and the other set of boots was more interested in our sexual responsiveness. After the evaluation there was a period of silence, and then trainer, (and we slaves) heard what we all had worked for. "John, you have a very well trained and physically superior coffle. We will display them as our premiere offering for this sale. We of course made no reaction, but trainer replied "THAT'S GREAT!" and then the freeman group exited that cage, and we were locked in again. We were a little concerned that we would be left in the display position, but just as we were resigned to keeping up our position at some pain until released when we herd trainer. "COFFLE AT EASE UNTIL GIVEN ANOTHER ORDER." We were thrilled! "AT EASE" was a slave position where we could relax completely. We could sit. We were not even expected to stand whenever a free man approached our area. For a slave "AT EASE" is a real reward. We all smiled at one another. We were proud of our achievement. Our transformation from free teens, to pigs in a trailer, to slaves who accepted their change had been one that would amaze any free person. These free persons might say smugly that these guys were just weak minded wimps who were really too weak minded to preserve their freedom and fight against their slave training and transformation. Well talk is cheap. If you were naked, had a slave collar around your neck, metal cuffs on your wrists and ankles, had your SIN tattooed on your arm, and were shown your picture and fingerprints on an official state slave registry, you might accept the fact that YOU were a slave, even if you had not been legally enslaved, and you also might decide to survive as best as you could in that situation. Being an obedient, well-cared-for show coffle was our logical response to the realities that now existed. That is what we had done, and so far deciding not to fight, but to accept, seemed to be working. If we were going to be held back as the best slaves offered at this sale, then it was logical that we might indeed go for a high price, and logic also would seem to prove that if someone paid a lot of money for you, you probably are going to be treated as any expensive thing is treated – WELL TREATED. We rested in our cage again for a period of time that did not seem long to us, but one of the traits that we seemed to have automatically acquired as slaves was that time was really somewhat meaningless to us. We saw our trainer coming and so out of respect, we jumped up and formed our line and assumed the PRESENT position. Again, we were looking at the floor, but "slavedar" allowed us to sense that our trainer was again well pleased at our action. "Slaves" Trainer said, "we have been talking about you to buyers, and there is great interest in you. We are now going to take you out to the display area, and you should expect to have many potential buyers test both your bodies and very unusually your ability to answer questions. If you really are going to be show coffle, you will be expected to answer questions from the visitors to the estate. We smiled secretly among ourselves as trainer had prepared us for this aspect of selling ourselves as well as making sure our bodies and co-ordination were ready to sell for top dollar. "SIR YES SIR!" we shouted in unison in good show coffle fashion. We could sense that once again we had impressed the auction officials. We were released from the cage, and in true show coffle fashion we were led to the show room in perfect unison. There we were displayed upon a foot high dais, and conspicuously, were NOT chained to the display stand, but stood there on display without restraint. After a few minutes the buyers entered, and clearly we were the items of greatest interest in the auction. We were pinched; our bodies were professionally tested and examined, and we were questioned about how we would answer questions about being slaves from visitors to the estate. We were ready for all these requirements and requests, and we sensed that the buyers were indeed ready to bid a very serious amount of money for four such young, fit, bright, and thoroughly domesticated lavaboes. After the inspection period was over, the room cleared of the free men, and we joined all the other slaves down to a long chute where the slaves were put in line in order of being offered for sale. After what seemed to be a long time, but we heard from the conversation of the guards was only an hour, the first slaves moved from the chute onto the stage for the auction and sale. We were to be held to last, but soon the officials at the auction perceived that the buyers were unwilling to spend much for any other slaves because they were saving all their funds for our auction. Therefore after only five slaves had been sold, it was announced that after an intermission of approximately fifteen minutes the show coffle auction would take place. We could feel the excitement and anticipation in the showroom. We were returned to the display area, and again we were surrounded by eager buyers in just a few moments. We smiled, and when ordered managed to keep all our movement in unison. We could sense the excitement and as a final trick to increase our value we showed our last trick, we erected in unison, and received a spontaneous ovation. We were slave stars, and we awaited our auction sure that our price would be such that we would be treated with the respect that these very wealthy people bestowed on their most prized, and expensive possessions. Then we all heard the announcement over the public address system. "Buyers, we are ready for this prize offering." Assistants to the auctioneer came, and we followed him past all the other slaves in the chute, and up five steps to the auction block. There was a small area on the stage, but not visible to the auction room where we were stopped. An assistant who had brought us to the block told us then we heard the auctioneer say "Coffle, form and display" we were to move to the raised area in front of the auctioneer's raised podium, which looked to me almost like the pulpit of the church I had attended in Massachusetts, turn and assume the display position. I amused myself by thinking of the auctioneer as the Minister of Slavery in this place of slave worship and purchase, standing in the pulpit and selling his religion of slaves. Just a few moments later we heard to auctioneer say through the PA system, "Coffle, Form and Display." We marched out, moved onto the raised area, turned and faced the buyers crowded just below the raised auction stage. As soon as we were in line I whispered "three, two, one," and on one once again we all erected in unison. The applause was absolutely thunderous. The auctioneer said behind us, and we could hear, but the applause caused only us to hear, "Holy Shit, How in the fuck you did that?" When the ovation died down, the auctioneer said to the crowd, "As you can see, this show coffle will be a show stopper." Applause and laughter followed, and then the serious business of us becoming the legal property of someone began. CHAPTER 5 PERFORMANCE SLAVERY "Gentlemen, the opening bid will be at $150,000 for this extraordinary show coffle." The auctioneer intoned. We then expected to hear a bid called out and in a loud, exciting, competition which we could follow and finally know how much we were worth, from both the work of Trainer, and ourselves. We did not hear that at all. What we did hear was a small smatterings of applause, gasps, and excited small conversations between two or three in the hall. We later found that bidding was done electronically, and the latest bid was flashed on a large sign above us on the arch that went over our stage. Occasionally we would hear the auctioneer say, "That is an outstanding bid, but is there another? Look at what this extraordinary show coffle do for your public relations, As you can see, these slaves have shown they know how to impress an audience." After that remark there was laughter. Then there must have been another fury of bidding as there were several times when a bid was received the auctioneer would say, "Thank you Bidder 167 for that outstanding bid." Then after another pause in which we guessed that more bids were received, the auctioneer said, "Gentlemen we are a record levels for this coffle, but this coffle is extraordinary, pleasing on the eye, talented with their bodies, and as you noted in the exhibit examination session fully capable of quality human speech. Even though we are already at a new record price, this is a rare product that is being offered. I will hold the floor open for two more minutes, and then this coffle will be sold." We waited; the auctioneer waited; and the hall waited. You could really feel the tension in the room. Finally we heard the auctioneer say, "Gentleman, you see the bid. Are sure there are no others?" There must have been none as after a pause the auctioneer shouted "SOLD TO FAIRVIEW FARMS OF WEST MILTON, NEW YORK." The room erupted in applause, although I did hear a couple of "DAMN's, I wanted that coffle but the bid was just too high!" We knew now who owned us, and we were immediately taken off the opposite side of the side from which we entered, and were taken to a slave cage that was one of many around a large room. It was clear that this was a holding area for slaves until their owner paid for the merchandise, and we could see through open doors a loading dock where we livestock could be loaded in slave transports for our trip to our owner. Since we has all been kidnapped in Massachusetts, we had no idea where in New York this place FAIRVIEW FARMS OF WEST MILTON, NEW YORK was, but as we waited until we were paid for and taken to be shipped, we realized that it made no difference. We were a show coffle for which our owner had paid a record amount of money. As we waited in slave rest position, one of my coffle mates whispered "Let's try to think of some new way to wow the audiences we knew we will perform for." This suggestion was followed by silence. In this silence I think we accepted finally the total realization of slavery. We were slaves, expensive slaves yes, but we would be told what to do, and we would do it. Met by silence from the rest of the coffle, the maker of the suggestion we think of a new trick, said very quietly, "Sorry brother slaves. I guess that was the last vestige of `free' thinking that I need to quit having." I think our silence showed our agreement with our brother slave's admission and realization. We stood at the bars of our cage, thinking our owner would soon come to reveal himself to his expensive purchase, but we waited and waited, and no one came to claim us. Finally we sat down on the concrete floor of the cell, and watched many slaves sold after us leave tier cages, cross to the loading dock and being placed in an amazing varieties of slave transport. We saw a couple who seemed to be stuffed into the trunk of a car. Finally a well-dressed man approached our cage, and we immediately arose and assumed the presentation position. Standing in front or the cage the man said, "You have cost me a lot, but you WILL pay for your costs by doing great public relations for slavery. I have been making arrangements for you to work year around. In the months where slaves are working my fields in New York you will be putting on shows to let the public know just how well slaves are treated. Then in the winter, you will be doing indoor shows both at my farm, and other indoor places around the state to show citizens year around and in places not near our large farms on which we use slave labor, just how marvelous being a slave is. We just kept in our display mode. As he stared at us, he smiled very broadly. "Hell slaves, you may make being a slave sound so great that perhaps I can get some of those young men to sell themselves into slavery with us. They might get a real shock when they are chained in a real work coffle, and feel the whip, and live in a normal slave pen at night. But after the collar is on, a slave no longer has any voice except to say `YES MASTER,' and do as told or face the pain of disobedience. Well anyway, the transport is ready, and you are on your way. See you at the farm slaves. You will not face the whip, but I assure you slaves you will earn me back my money." With that another man came up to the cage with some chains, and soon were chained together by our neck collars, and taken to a van that looked a lot like the police paddy wagons. We were moved inside, were chained to a bench, and when the doors at the back of the van were closed we were in darkness, and in darkness we traveled to our new home. It was a long trip, and for a lot of it we seemed to be on an interstate highway because we could feel that we were traveling at a high rate of speed. During this time, we did doze off and so we were not sure how long that part of the trip really took. However, we knew when we left the interstate because suddenly we were stopping, and there was side to side movement when we passed another vehicle. We could even sense when we left a major two lane highway, and began traveling on a secondary road of some type. Finally we made a turn, and were traveling fairly slowly. When we stopped, and we heard the drivers of our transport talking to some guards, apparently at a gate of some type, we got excited again. We were home. We were ready to get released from our chained positions, and to move freely (yes, I know no slave moves freely – but when a slave can move about that is more free than being chained in one position for a long time.) A few more slow turns and we stopped, and we heard the guards get out of the transport and come around, and the doors being opened. They climbed in and released us from our restraints. "Get your lazy slave asses out of the van!" was our welcome to our new home. When were on the ground we assumed slave rest positions, and while in that position sneaked a peak at our home. Several large barns could be seen in our surreptitious scan. They were painted white and looked very well maintained. It was late in the afternoon judging from the sun's position. !! "Take these slaves to the intake and lock them up for the night. They are to be kept separate from any other intake slaves there, or who still might come in. These slaves are the new show coffle and the MASTER spent a bundle on them. You would not want to be around if some field slaves got ahold of them and beat them up, and ruined their pretty looks." "YES SIR CAPTAIN SIR!" was the respectful reply. The captain left and the two guards came over to us. We had of course lined up in a straight line as we had been taught. "DISPLAY ASSHOLES!" was our friendly greeting. We of course snapped to the ordered position, and as our training had prepared for us to do, we did it together. "SHIT ALMIGTY! Look at this prime slave flesh!" The guard yelled at his companion. "Come over here and help me `inspect' these pieces of prime beef." The other guard arrived, and in our display position we awaited whatever would happen next. What happened was that we were groped, felt up, butt slapped, and generally given a complete "hands on" examination of our bodies, with special attention paid to our cocks and balls, butts, and tits. "Well, I heard that they cost a bundle, and I can see why. These are six pieces of prime A-1 stock." The second guard said with great profundity. "Well prime or not slaves get processed, and these prime slave shits are no better than any slave. They need to be told what to do and how to do it by a superior free man, and I am just the man to help these shits learn that uppity slaves are whipped slaves." He looked at us and yelled, as if because we were "dumb slaves" we were also deaf. "NOW SHIT FOR BRAINS. YOU MAY HAVE FOOLED SOME OF THOSE GUYS AT THE AUCTION, BUT WE KNOW ALL SLAVES NEED A FREE MAN TO KEEP YOU FROM FUCKING UP. WE WILL HELP YOU!" With that comment he slapped his slave strap against his leather boot. We all knew, without saying a word to each other, that we would have to be careful around this hick. Still in display, we were ordered to follow the first guard, which we did in our usual synchronized way. We marched in unison to a barn which had the word "INTAKE" over its door. The first guard opened the door for us which I found funny that a free man opened the door for six slaves, but carefully kept my normal slave face with no change for him to note and correct. Inside we saw the familiar line about three feet in front of a desk. Sitting at the desk was a clearly overweight woman sitting at a computer. She looked at the guards. We were ordered to stop and we did so in our normal line. "So, this is the new coffle the Master bought that we have heard about?" "Yah, supposed to be our show coffle, and from what we have heard they are really good at talking as well as doing slave tricks." our guards replied. Of course no one thought about asking us anything. We were slaves, and no free person asks slaves questions of importance. "Well line'em up and have them give me their SIN's and I'll get'em in the inventory." she ordered the guards. Again, all interaction was free person to free person, and we waited there to be instructed. "Slaves, stating with YOU, ..." and I got a swat on my rump, "respond with your SIN when asked." "SIR YES SIR!" we all responded in unison There was some clicking of the computer keyboard's keys, and finally the women yelled at me. "SIN!" Mentally I thought that it was funny that because she thought we were "dumb slaves" that she had to shout to make us understand. This woman was so dumb that she equated intelligence with hearing ability, and the lower the intelligence, the louder you had to yell to make sure you got through the extra thick skull into the slave brain. Mentally "I" knew who were the real dumb ones in this dialog. "MAME, SIN IS 613 – 210 – 541, MANE" I yelled. This answer got me a really swift and hard blow from the slave strap across my butt. "NO RAISED VOICES TO A FREE PERSON SLAVE SHIT!" the guard instructed. "SIR yes SIR. Slave thanks SIR for correction SIR." I replied. "Remember your place slave, or we all will help you learn it." the guard snarled in reply. The lady at the desk clicked away. "That's strange" she said mostly to herself. To the guards she said "This enslavement order is signed by Judge Wayne Foreman of Onondaga County. That's where I am from, and Judge Foreman retired several years ago, and I don't understand why his signature is here on the enslavement order. Again as a slave I was a bystander to the conversation. The comment again was addressed to the guard; however, I knew that I could satisfy her curiosity. The enslavement order was one that had belonged to a slave whose enslavement was long ago enough that that actual slave was one of the coffle which we replaced and became. It was reasonable for the actual order to be dated several years before, and I am sure that the dates had been changed with the belief that no one would ever really know the actual judge whose signature was on the order, and realize that the time frame did not seem to fit. "He probably was just sitting in to get some extra cash signing enslavement orders." The talkative guard replied. I noted his smug tone as he clearly thought his reasoning powers were showing here, and possibly impressing the overweight woman behind the desk and computer. Keeping my slave face unchanged, I mused the guard and the lady clerk would be a great pair, and their children would probably be so dumb that they would end up being enslaved, and nature would reach its balance. "You're probably right" she replied. "Those judges sit on their asses and do almost nothing and get paid bunches." Again, I had to concentrate on my slave face and body, as if there was anyone who just sat on his/her ass doing little for his/her pay, I thought that it might be this woman, and though they had to work a bit harder physically, our two guards seemed also on my mental list of free but not overly bright. "NEXT" she yelled, and normalcy was restored. My brief hope that our enslavement would be found to be fraudulent, and we would be returned to our homes in Massachusetts with profound apologies, and perhaps payment for indignities returned to the realm of slave brain fantasies. Soon all of us were properly placed in the inventory of the farm, and we were led to our slave pen. We were surprised that it did not take us long to arrive at the barn and our pen. It was very close to the free person area, and one in which there appeared to be many free men, women, and children milling around, sipping drinks from paper cups. It looked like families at an amusement park, and in a sense we were to discover that this appearance was not far from the truth. We would work from a show slave barn and pen, in a field which was indeed planted, cared for, and harvested by us, but all this activity, and these facilities were for show, as were we. We were to find ourselves used to sell a lie. The lie was that slaves lived in barns and pens like we did, and that slaves were as handsome, well fed, clean, and unmarked by whips as we were. We were advertisements for slavery. We would sometimes see real coffle slaves come by us after the tourists were gone. Those coffles were being sent elsewhere, and had to be deleted from the inventory as we had been entered into it. These slaves were mammoth, hairy, smelled, and were shackled by ankles, and wrists with seriously heavy chains. They also had a vacant stare and when we saw them, we renewed our commitment to be the best show coffle in the world, and also to realize that we were part of a fraud being given to all of Fairview Farms' free person visitors. They would see us, and think that they were seeing the normal slave coffle. What a fraud. What a lucky fraud we were, and we knew with one mistake in our being useful in perpetuating this fraud, we could find ourselves in the mind numbing, back breaking, filth and misery of the real coffle slave. Time passed as we did several shows every day. We would be doing pretend work in the fields. An announcer would call us to come to the fence and to let free men, women and children see a real slave coffle. The announcer would announce that the coffle had prepared a show of their training, and, if the audience would show their precision formations. Of course the audience fell into the trap and would yell for us to show our skills. We then would go into our precision marching and formations. Audiences were separated into ones with children and ones only with adults in them. For the audience with children we did tricks with the rakes and hoes. We would march around in precision, and would do poses showing our very impressive musculature. For adult audiences we finished they show with our very special skill. Adults in the slave part of the US were familiar with the fact that most slaves worked in the fields naked as there was no real reason to clothe the slaves as the slaves were more work animals than humans. Therefore after performing our precision marching, and our juggling of farm implements, we did the trick that the adults all wanted to see. We would march right up to the fence which separated us and our show field from them, and we would shout. "We who have violated society's rules, have found purpose and satisfaction in working to serve and make life better for free persons. We would then pause, and as we shouted "We slaves salute the free who we serve!" and at that dramatic moment, would pull the small knots that held the front and back of our loin cloths together, and facing the audience full on did our special trick. We erected our cocks in unison. The audience usually reacted with thunderous applause. Some women would pretend to be shocked, but we did not see that many women avert their eyes from seeing well-muscled young male human animals salute them with their unique male member. We did at least four shows a day, and we also worked our field a bit for the show. However, all the real work for this show field was done by real slave coffles after the audiences had been cleared from Fairview Farms. Finally the summer came to an end, and autumn was here. It was time for the harvest, and soon we (with major help from the real slave coffles) had harvested our wheat. The air was crisp and the crowds were noticeably smaller. We talked in our pen at night at what we might do during the winter. We wondered if we would just be allowed to work out and keep ourselves in proper slave shape during the winter for our show times in the spring, summer, and fall. We should have known that slaves cost too much to just be allowed to lounge around in the cold New York winter.