The following story is fiction about free born youth who suddenly is enslaved.  The story contains scenes of spanking, strapping, shaving, slavery and non-consensual gay sex.  If these subjects are offensive, uninteresting or if you are a minor (i.e., child) please leave now.

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My Most Unfortunate Change in Life Style
By
YLeeCoyote@juno.com
 

I was born a free male some fifteen years ago and lived the good life for more than fourteen years when I was cruelly betrayed and sold into slavery by my very own, may he rot and roast in hell for all eternity, father.

I had a great life until that terrible day less than two months ago when my life changed.  I had everything while I was growing up and after reaching twelve was even able to beat the slaves who misbehaved.  We had a large farm and Dad needed my help.  Occasionally, I even got to whip the adult slaves but mostly it was the younger ones – the boys.  Although they were just chattel, they did require training just like the horses and dogs.  A few were even taught reading and writing to improve their skills and hence their value.  It did not take very much for me to find that one or another required extra discipline.  Father had strongly impressed on me that I must not injure any of them, but spanking was most certainly allowed.

I dealt mostly with the eight to sixteen year olds and one of the great pleasures in my life was to spank them.  The littlest ones I just took over my lap after putting a cloth over my lap to protect my clothes from the filth on their bodies and in case they lost control of their bodily functions, like an untrained cur in the house.  I also slipped a pair of gloves on to protect my hands in the same way.

They did not dare resist this treatment for they knew that far worse would befall them if they did.  The two best parts were the beginning and the end.  The former because I could watch my hand prints form as they reacted to my hard spanks.  The latter because they were normally bawling as thoroughly spanked naughty little slave boys should when well and properly disciplined.  Of course, getting from the first state to the last was great fun.

I used a heavy strap on the larger ones.  Generally they were too big to fit over my lap and too tough to care about being spanked by hand.  The heavy strap never failed to get their full, although admittedly limited, slave's attention.  I would have them bent over some object or hosted on the back of another slave.  Ten to fifteen strokes with the heavy leather strap that was almost a hand wide would turn even the toughest boy's rump into a flaming hot pain center that would remind them for days what the price was for their misbehavior.  They learnt to fear my strap and even just a mention or glimpse of that most effective tool had an immediate salutary effect.

Once puberty took effect on me, I added another bonus – getting serviced.  With the bawling boy on his knees, I would open my pants and extract my hard cock for him to suck.  My only complaint about this was that it was over all too soon although I offended continued until I shot a second time.

You might have noticed that I did not talk of breeding the slaves for my own pleasure.  I did take my pleasure that way but not as part of the CP process.  I preferred the littlest boys and when I fancied having one, I sent for him.  They did not report directly to me, but only after they stopped in the latrine to get washed both inside and out.  This assured that I would not get dirty.  Almost all of time, I would take the boy from the rear as is appropriate for mounting chattel.  Of course, before doing that, I would take the boy over my lap and turn his bottom a bright red with a few hand spanks.  I found that this greatly enhanced my pleasure.

* * * * * * * * * *

There were several farms in the valley beside mine.  The closest one was the Preston's spread.  I was a friend with Peter Preston, the only son.  He was a couple of years younger than I, but the only one in the valley that was even a candidate to be my friend.  Until a year ago, there was another, Bernie Anderson, who was my friend.  Unfortunately, he is not around anymore.  His father was a fool and could not manage even his small spread and did not recognize it in time to sell out and leave a free man.  The county sheriff swooped down one day and seized possession of the place.  The court had acted on the creditors' petition and appointed a receiver to run the place until it was auctioned off.

It was a most foolish thing to let it go into receivership.  Not only was the farm seized but so were the equipment and the chattel (both the four and the two-footed kinds).  Even the Anderson's themselves were seized and enslaved.  All I needed to have a nightmare was to recall my last view of Bernie.  He was naked except for a slave collar and totally shaven – from the top of his head to his toes.  I remember his flaming red mop on his head was matched by the equally fiery bush he had in his crotch.  Now he was reduced to a slave with just an id number and a slave name.  He must have had some spunk left because his ass was flaming red showing that he had been strapped hard when he was enslaved.  His parents and sister presented equally horrid images.  One thing is certain and that is they will never return.  Mr. Preston brought the farm but wisely sold the Andersons.

* * * * * * * * * *

I did my best to help Pete, or as I liked to call him, Petie (a slave's name), to be a good master.  He was much too soft and far too easy on his boys even though I showed him how to spank and strap them many times.  Almost every time I visited, one of his boys required discipline and I gave it even though Petie – definitely a softy – usually stopped me before I was finished.

My favorite slave boy was one of his who was called Runt because he was so small.  Even though he was of age to be strapped, I kept spanking him by hand.  He was an extremely talented cock sucker and gave me much pleasure.  Since Petie was spoiling him, I knew I had to be extra strict.

It was on my last visit that my world disintegrated totally and completely.  My parents had been acting strangely for the last month and especially for the last few days.  It was clear to me that they were very worried but they were keeping it from Jack and Jill, the ten-year-old twins, and me.  This morning Dad said that I should go see Peter but I had to walk rather than have one of the slave boys pull the cart.  He wouldn't explain anything as he was too busy.  He was visibly upset so I did as he asked.  Mother was in a dither.

Petie was not surprised to see me but his conversation got increasing weird although his hospitality was normal.  He served some refreshments just as he usually did including my favorites.  I told him to call Runt so he could service me.

"In a little while." he promised and then asked: "Do you ever think of Bernie and his family?"

"I try not too because it gives me nightmares.  His Dad was a fool not only losing the farm but being enslaved.  He should have sold out months earlier."

He agreed, of course.  Then he continued his strange questions.  Holding up a slave collar, he asked: "Every try one of these things on?"

"Of course not!" I snapped, angrily.  "Why would I?"

"Just to get an idea of what it is like.  This new model is much nicer than the older ones.  It is padded and lighter with some built-in electronics too.  Lighter means better production and that what it is all about.  It's good for both inside and outside stock."  Just then Runt and  two of his older boys, Billy and Bobby, came up and handed Petie an envelope.  They all properly dropped to one knee to show respected to us masters.  I noticed that the big two, did not leave but separated and each stood watching from a hundred feet (thirty meters) away.  Runt went off a short distance.  Petie looked at the papers he received and handed me an envelope.

I opened it and nearly fainted.  It was a doomsday letter from my dad.  He had gone bust and sold the farm – lock, stock and barrel – to Preston.  It explained that by the time I got it that they – Mom, the twins (my siblings) and he – would be out of the valley forever.  It finished with the terrible news: "Sorry Josh, but you must remain for you are part of the stock."  I could not believe that he had betrayed me and sold me into slavery.  "This is not funny at all, Peter Preston." I said.

He read the letter and agreed.  "It is not funny.  It is not a joke.  It is, however unpleasant, reality."  He paused.  "You may examine the court order." which he handed to me.  "Remember that damaging an official court document is a serious crime and gets immediate harsh punishment."

I looked at the document.  There was my name and identity number and the court seal and indeed I was now a slave to Preston.  "There must be some mistake, Pete."

"All the mistakes were made by you and your father for some time in the past.  You went bust and this was the way out – for the rest of your family.  You're just one of my boys now.  The sooner you accept that fact, the easier your life will be, Joshie."  Pete was very calm but I exploded cursing my dad and wishing him an eternity in hell.  "Now finish that excellent muffin – your last one – and strip like a proper slave."

"You can't be serious!" I stammered.

"I most certainly am.  I can have you stripped if that's what you prefer."

I lost it and charged him.  He was prepared and reached out.  I shrieked and collapsed when he jabbed me with the zapper stick.  As I recovered, I realized that I was being stripped by Runt.  I tried to stop him but he just slapped me hard on the face.  I kept complaining and Pete said: "Shut up, boy.  You had your chance to undress with dignity and you refused so now you are being stripped."  Soon I was naked.  I could sense both of them studying my body.  Pete handed Runt the collar who, with a shit-eating grin on his face, put it about my neck.  I heard the snap of the catch and knew that my life had truly changed although I was not ready to accept it emotionally.

"Shall I spank him now, Master?" asked Runt of Pete who was calmly sipping his tea, "He has been a very willful and naughty boy."

I couldn't believe my ears.  This little slave boy was deciding what should happen to me – a free born male.  But worse, Pete gave him permission.  Runt sat on the edge of the porch and pulled me over his lap.  I could not believe how easily he did this for I was much bigger.  I soon learnt how very strong he was as his hand connected with my bottom.  I howled for each and every hard spank and my tail was a flaming hot pain center when he stopped.  He pushed me off and I lay at the bottom of the steps crying like a baby.  Runt gathered my clothes and put them in a bag giving my wallet and the letter from my betraying dad to Pete.

"Sit up, boy." growled Runt at me, "It's time for a haircut."  He had a hair clipper and started to use it on my head.  I pushed him away and I was zapped again.  When I recovered, Runt was still clipping my head and Pete explained that the new collars had excellent control facilities.  Runt finished with my head and then proceed to clip my armpits and then to mown down my beautiful bush.  I no longer had the hair that marked me as man.  As Runt handled me I grew hard but that only earned me another nasty crack: "No need to get hard, little boy, that little pee-pee of yours is not of interest to anyone."  He paused and laughed.  "But since you're so fond of blow jobs you can give me one.  Remember – no teeth or you'll never bite again."  I positively shuddered at that remembering the screams of some slave boy as his teeth were yanked out for such an act of defiance.

I pleaded with Pete using my eyes and was told to do it or else.  So the first time I sucked a cock it was a slave boy's cock.  I was surprised at how big it was and even though Runt kept giving me directions, he soon came.  I was forced to swallow his vile splooge.  I watched in horror as Runt climbed back up the porch and got some device from Pete.  He was also offered the remains of my muffin.  After thanking Master, he sat on my seat, slowly eating my muffin smothered with sweet butter and marmalade, savoring every scrumptious bite using the fork like a free man.

"Runt will take you to the Vet for processing.  Do as he tells you for he has control of your collar.  Incidentally, there is also a tracking device so running away is now impossible.  The time for you to have fled was before coming here."  Pete laughed.  "I bet Father that you did not have the balls to do that.  Just like the fly who accepted the spider's invitation* you walked right into my den.  It would be best to accept your fate."

Most self consciously, I meekly following Runt to the Vet, totally naked and hairless except for the collar.  At first I placed my hands over my freshly clipped crotch but Runt immediately yelled at me and made me clasp my hands behind my back.  No one else was walking this way so I felt doubly self conscious.  I did notice Billy and Bobby watching with big smirks and hardons.

At the Vet's, Runt snapped a hitching rope to my collar and I was left standing until the Vet was ready for me.  I could only think of my new horrendous situation.  It had been less than an hour since I leant that I was now a slave yet I had docilely followed Runt who was both smaller and younger.  I had seen how my slaves had taken the whippings that I had delivered yet still had the sprit to resist.  Now I feared that soon I would be as docile and obedient as a born slave without a spine as I realized that I had not even been whipped but just hand spanked and zapped so far.

It seemed like hours before I was taken into the Vet.  He examined me sort of like my doctor had but with an entirely different attitude.  He poked and prodded, measured and tapped me like I was a dog.  After that he produced a huge needle and placed few implants into me.  The injections hurt like hell because he did not use any pain killer and I couldn't move because I was strapped down on the examining table.  I knew about those for providing instant ID and the more advance ones for tracking and punishment.  He had something I had never seen before.  He stuck a device over my penis, something pulled on my foreskin and then four holes were made and cauterized near the tip.  I was put in the care of a slave assistant and coated with a powerful depilatory that removed even any hints of hair that I had.  After I was scrubbed down, I was returned to the wall to wait.

Once I was roped to the wall, a headset was placed over my ears and I was forced to listen – over and over – to the Slave Rules.  It was Pete's voice which made it worse.  I wanted to sit but the rope was too short and I could not unsnap it.  Part of the tape ordered me to repeat some mantras such as "I am a slave."  "I must obey."  "I must be respectful."

A slave came and sat near me.  He had a bloody rag wrapped about his arm where he must have been injured.  I recognized him as one whom I had strapped.  Unfortunately, he also recognized me and then studied my body.  "I heard you were here, Joshie.  Runt was right for you just have a little boy's pee-pee and matching non-muscles."  He reached and twisted one of my nipples.  I yelped and tried to grab him.  He slapped my hand away hard.  "It will be a pleasure putting you on report, Josie.  You are the lowest of the low."  Just then the assistant called him in to be treated by the Vet.

As the tape repeated and repeated, I realized that he had not been tied to the wall as I was which meant that he was a trusted slave and out ranked me.  Being on report meant that I was going to be punished.  Everything was so terribly depressing.

I got tired of the repeating rules and took the headset off.  A light flashed and an alarm rang.  The Vet's assistant rushed out.  He silenced the alarm and put the headset back on me.  He pointed a device he had at me and pressed the button.  I got several short zaps.  I listened to the tape and repeated as directed over and over fearful of being punished again.  I realized that I had been memorizing the Rules.

I waited, being ignored a like head of cattle in a barn by everyone who came and went.

Eventually, Runt returned.  He did not speak but just grabbed my penis and slipped something through the new holes.  I did not even have to look to assume that my sex was now under control since I would not be able to get a full hardon with the device attached.  Runt led me to a slave's latrine and ordered me to squat and relieve myself.  It was just another humiliation but I did so since I had to.  I had managed not to mess while I was waiting.  I was taken to the slave pens and assigned a stall by one of the stable boys.  There were slave rations and a water tap.  I was cautioned not to mess and left for the night.

The rations were more than terrible, but I was staving so I ate them.  What else could I do?  I was a helpless slave at the mercy of Peter who I had constantly instructed.  Even worse, was realizing that Runt was a high ranking slave as he was given charge of me even with the power to zap me.  Several other slaves did not like me.  I cried myself into a fitful sleep.

* * * * * * * * * *

I did not look forward to the day after I was awoken at dawn.  I was expected to relieve myself along with all the slaves  watching me and smelling their stink, and then have breakfast.  Breakfast was just slave rations and water.  I had to force myself to eat for I had no idea when I would be fed again.  I saw that all the other slaves were carefully studying me.  I was certain that they making fun of me since many were smirking.  The orders for the day were given and then it turned out that I was the only one on report.

My offence was disrespect to a higher ranking slave who got to punish me publically.  I figured that I would be zapped again but that was not the case.  He decided that since I liked to spank, that was the proper punishment for me.  He sat on a stool and I was ordered to get over his lap.  I hesitated and he mocked me.  "What the matter, afraid of getting spanked boy?  You always liked to spank us."  I was pushed to him and thrown over his lap.  I found that I was being held in position by many strong hands.  Seconds later, and another hard hand crashed down on my fully exposed bottom causing me to yelp like a puppy.  A few minutes latter I was crying from the pain and released.  Many of the others laughed.

I soon learnt what training meant from another slave.  Timmy was assigned to be my instructor.  He was only twelve and smaller than I but he was given a control unit so he had the power to zap me.  Master Peter gave him detailed instructions for the lessons and that he should not hesitate to discipline me should my attention stray.  Timmy asked for and received permission to use a strap as well as the collar's zapper.  Pete warned me that I had better be a good student or I would be punished.

Once we were left alone, I looked at Timmy and broke down.  Two days ago I would have found an excuse to spank him and make him service me.  Of course, I would have also mounted and roughly fucked his cute bubble butt.  But now none of that could happen.  With that device locking my foreskin closed I could not get properly hard even to jerk off.  To say I was depressed would be an understatement.  Timmy was quite delighted with his assignment for it kept him out of the fields where he would have sweat at hard labor.

He hung a small box about my neck and placed the connected headset over my ears.  It was playing the rules that I heard yesterday.  Then he ordered me to follow him grabbing my cock to use as a lead.  I objected to this and was immediately zapped so hard that I collapsed in a heap.  "Stand up, boy." he ordered and since he was waving the zapper, I did not dare to refuse.  Again, he grabbed my cock and led me to where he wanted me to be.  He sat comfortably in the shade while making me stand in the hot sun with the rules blasting in my head.  At times I was ordered to repeat some of the things such as: "I am a slave." and "I must obey my Master at all times without hesitation."

The third time around, I tried to remove the headset and learnt – painfully – not to do that.  After another hour, Timmy allowed me to remove it and I was required to practice various positions.

Timmy started by teaching me the proper positions that I was required to use when addressing a Master or superior slave.  The concept was not new although they were not exactly the same as I had expected from my slaves until just yesterday.  He was extremely fussy, insisting that I be very precise.  There was a very extreme position that was to be used to show great respect and when confessing to misdeeds.  It required a nine point contact with the ground – toes, knees, hands, elbows and forehead – which meant that ones ass was up high.  Timmy got me into that position and then told me not to move for he was going to strap me.  I moved and asked why and he immediately said that earned me five extra and to get back into position and be silent.

Timmy took his sweet time about it.  When he finally got into position he began to strap me.  He may have been only twelve but the strap was heavy and it hurt.  I yelled and he said that the stroke would not count.  I bit my tongue as he continued.  I've must have gotten a dozen and I was crying.  He laughed and called me a sissy and a baby.

Then he made sure that I knew the Slave Rules exactly as they were on the recording.  When I got something wrong, he zapped me (relatively gently) and corrected me.  After a few times, he turned up the punishment level and the zaps hurt a lot more.  I really did my very best to learn them.  When it was time for lunch, he hitched me to the wall, put the headset back on me replaying the rules while he went to lunch.  When he returned, he tossed a handful of slave ration biscuits at me.  I was starving so I just dropped down and began to eat them not caring about the dirt and germs sticking to them nor that they were totally dry.  Then I even welcomed the opportunity to lap up some water that Timmy let drip on his foot.

When Master Peter came to check up, I was required to get into all the positions and recite the rules.  When I made a mistake, both Timmy and I got zapped.  I guess that is why he was so thorough with the lessons.

After we were feed we were allowed some free time to clean up and socialize.  Timmy kept a close watch on me and insisted that I service him in appreciation for his work all day supervising me.  He still had the zapper so I was afraid to refuse.  He showed me that he had turned up the zapper setting to eight as a warning not to bite.  I was very careful as I sucked him and swallowed his splooge like I had with Runt.  I was returned to the same stall that I had the first night.

* * * * * * * * * *

The next day was even more depressing.  I was assigned to a crop picking gang of eight boys.  They were all ten to twelve years old and Timmy was in charge.  There was this huge field and the corp had to be picked by hand for machines would damage it.  It was pick, pick, pick until a bucket was full and then dump it into a collecting hopper.  It was hot and dirty work and I was slow.  What I did know was that everything was being counted.  At the midmorning break, Timmy told me that I lagging and that I better increase my production so as to do my "fair share".

At the lunch break I learnt how badly I had been doing.  My collections was the least of all even though I was the biggest of the crew.  Obviously, I needed additional motivation stated Timmy.  I was required to get down on my hands and knees with my butt stuck up in the air.  He got two straps from the equipment and together folded them in two and gave me a dozen hard cuts.  They hurt terribly leaving my ass hot, swollen and on fire.  "Joshie, if you don't improve and come in last again this afternoon, you will get it DOUBLE."

I tried to pick more than the little ten-year-olds but I was not successful.  Timmy gave me another dozen and each of the others gave me three.  Even if I had not had a dozen earlier, I still would have been very sore.  After we were fed, I was allowed to go to my stall and rest.

* * * * * * * * * *

For the rest of the week I was assigned to various groups for different work.  I was constantly found to be wanting in that I produced less due to being inexperience, being weaker and having less stamina than the others.  I was punished either by being zapped, usually for 'insubordination', while low production got me spanked or strapped in some fashion.  Just as I described before, such spankings were both public and from the others in the group.  By the time the week was out, I think that every other slave had managed to spank or strap me in some way.  They all seemed more than delighted to do so and it was noted that my low production would reduce perks that they would have otherwise received.

There were only a couple of free men about so that most of the time other slaves were in charge of me.  I also realized that Pete, er, Master Peter did not give me special attention for I only saw him when he was addressing everyone.  Then when he did deign to give me special attention I would have preferred that he hadn't.  At the end of the work week, Master Peter addressed everyone and I was called forward to be publically chastised for poor performance.

Master Peter lectured me about working hard and doing my full and fair share of work.  Also, I was to be strapped in front of everyone.  I was placed on a spanking bench and strapped down tight with my butt sticking up. Master Peter had a heavy tawse and he gave me ten hard cuts with it.  I screamed and yelled as he turned my tail into painful red hot mush in front of one and all.  I was crying, actually bawling before he was done and begging for mercy and promising to do more.  As painful as it would have been, I would have taken another ten cuts rather than what actually did happened.  Master Peter mounted me while I was still strapped down.  He just got behind and drove his rock hard shaft deep into my slave butt hole.  I yelled in pain as he rammed in unexpectedly so I could not try to resist.  There was cheering from the group as he used me like a heifer, blasting his jizz deep into me in short order.  Then, just as I repeated fucked my slaves, he repeated the operation this time taking much longer to shoot.  Master Peter then came around to my front, raised my head using my ears as handles and had me clean his Master's rod.  I was amazed at how forceful and dominant he was as he never seem to take the lessons I gave him very seriously.

I was devastated from both the beating and being used especially in front of the others.  Although there was nothing that I could do about it since I was strapped down.  Master Peter left but I was not released.  In case anyone had any doubts about my status since I had been a free man less than a fortnight ago, they were certainly gone now.  Instantly, I became the center of attention for I was surrounded.  The hand spanks on my blazing hot ass hurt but that was not the bad part.  I quickly lost track of how many times I was fucked – at both ends by my fellow slaves who did not have locks on their hard and erect cocks.  Of course, with my foreskin locked I could not get a proper erection but I put out a lot of stuff anyway from the stimulation of my prostate.

I was not taken to my stall after I was untied but to the boys slave dorm.  I was assigned a bunk and told to sleep prone.  I was mounted many times throughout the night.  Several times I was told that I was the consolation prize because I had lowered production and so other perks would not be reduced.

Things continued as before but I really tried harder for I certainly did not want another tawsing like I had had and being gang raped.  It was clear that I was not liked by the other slaves as they remembered how I had treated them.  I dread to think what it would have been back on my old place with my old slaves.

This effort did not save me from the two biggest slaves in the group, Billy and Bobby.  They were my age but both bigger and stronger but must importantly they held grudges against me for my spanking, strapping and making them service me before my fall.  Every night they took their revenge.  First one of them would take me over his lap and hold me tightly in position as he spanked long and hard.  Almost every time I would be cry and always close and whimpering for mercy.  That never came for once the spanking stopped the other one would strap me leaving me bawling like a baby.  Before I could stop crying, I would be on my hands and knees so that they could have their way with me.  They were far too strong for me to even try to resist and I always got plugged at both ends.  These things always amused the others.

It was about a month after I became a slave that I was sold.  Master Peter handed me over to the dealer.  "You will be better off away from those who knew you as mean and unfair master nor are you earning your keep here." explained Master Peter.  "We did not dare let you mix on your old farm as you might have been injured although my boys had their pleasure with you.  Maybe you'll be lucky and get some clerical or shop assignment.  Or maybe not be lucky and get shipped to the mines."

I was handcuffed to a rod and Runt removed the collar he had put on me.  It was immediately replaced by one from the dealer which was twice as heavy and unpadded.  I was locked into a traveling cage and driven away to my new fate.

The End

* See: Mary Howitt's poem The Spider and the Fly at www.love-poems.me.uk/howitt_the_spider_and_the_fly_funny.htm    Return

© Copyright A.I.L. August 9, 2011

Your comments are appreciated.  YLeeCoyote@juno.com

See more of my stories at:  Nifty's Prolific Net Authors
    and on my web site:  http://www.asstr.org/~YLeeCoyote/