Date: Sat, 15 May 2021 08:06:48 +0000
From: whipped@protonmail.com
Subject: Interfering with a slave collar 14-16

This is a work of fiction. All characters in it are over 18 and you must
be over 18 to read it. It takes place in an alternative America where
slavery is legal and slaves over 18 can be used for sex. The main
character enslaves himself and finds out what it actually means to be
another man's property.

If you want a happy ending for Davey's father, stop at the end of chapter
15. If you want Davey to find a little justice, read the last
chapter/epilogue.

Never do anything like this in real life. Respect others, report any
suspected abuse, and wear protection in real life.

Don't let your hormones get you into trouble.

And consider donating to Nifty if you enjoy this or other stories.

Part 14

They came for me three days later. One minute I was laying in bed asleep,
the next I was being handcuffed, gagged, and led into a slave transport.
Dad didn't say goodbye.
The night before, I had seen him. He walked into the slave showers right
as I took my shorts off and got under the shower head.
He stripped, waved the others out of the room, and came over to me. I
tensed, expecting another rape.
But it didn't happen.
Then.
He simply got under the shower head with me and handed me the soap.
Then he simply said, "Clean me, Cula."
I lathered his whole body with the soap. I ran my hands over his hairy
body, even his ass and chest. I knelt at his feet and cleaned his thighs
and toes. Then I soaped my hand and reached for his cock.
I was hoping a handjob might make him leave me alone.
But he said, "Not that, not now."
So, I stood back up. He surprised me, then.
He took the soap from my hands and started rubbing it on my smooth chest.
He lifted my arms up and cleaned under them and turned me around and
cleaned my back. He was even gentle with the marks from the whippings.
Then he reached for my ass and rubbed the soap all over it, fondling and
squeezing my butt cheeks. He even knelt down, rinsed, and cleaned off my
thighs, calves, and feet.
I was soft and scared, but he started soaping up and playing with my
balls with one hand. He cleaned my cock off too, jerking it gently with
the soap, then letting the water rinse it clean.
Then he did something new.
He gripped my ass with his meaty hands and sucked my dick.
I gasped. More out of shock than pleasure. His teeth were grazing my dick
as he went up and down. It hurt more than it felt good.
He pulled his mouth off my dick for a second, wrapped my hands around his
head, and said, "Feed it to your master."
I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and tried desperately to get hard.
I thought of my girlfriend before this, of titties, hot cheerleader
asses, snatch, everything I could think of.
And, finally, it grew.
He was only sucking about two or three inches so I started jerking the
rest and trying to imagine he was anyone else. That anything else was
happening.
And then it did.
I gripped his head, pulled it down, and my balls exploded, flooding his
mouth with my wet, sticky, and thick teenage cum.
He swallowed it.
Then he stood up, leaned down, and stuck his tongue in my mouth, kissing
me, making me taste my own jizz as he grinded into me. He kissed me the
way you kiss a hot girl, sloppy and wet and while he was groping me.
Then he grabbed the soap again, gently cleaned and tugged at my dick,
then shampooed my hair with it.
He tousled my hair after the soap rinsed out and said, laughing, "That
was my first dick. I guess your dad is good at it for you to nut that
much. Or maybe you're just a big old slut."
Scared to do anything else, I nodded.

Part 15

After the shower, he took me into my old room. He was wearing a towel and
I was naked, but none of the slaves or workers said anything or seemed to
notice.
I hadn't been in here since I had put the collar on for my girlfriend.
Everything was the same.
My baseball, basketball, and soccer trophies were still all on the
bookshelf. The giant poster of a red convertible was above my old bed.
The closet was open and I could even see all my old clothes.
He gestured to the bed and said, "Sit down, Davey."
I wasn't sure how to react to him calling me Davey, but I knew failure to
obey had consequences.
I sat on the bed and he pulled the computer chair over to it. Then he sat
in the chair, facing me.
He looked at me, smiled, and said:
I made enough money today to free you. I was going to tell you that in
here. That I was going to go to a judge, get the GPS removed, the collar
taken off. You'd be Davey again, not Cula.
Then he sighed and continued:
But I talked to Solace and he said it'd be a mistake. Auctioning you will
bring enough to clear all my debt. Pay off the bank for the other slaves.
I'd be in pure profit this time next year. I can't turn that down, can I?
He looked at me, like he wanted an answer.
I opened my mouth to speak and he said, "Be careful, boy. Slaves have
lost their tongue, balls, or voicebox for upsetting their masters."
So I mumbled, "No, master."
I knew I should fight. I should argue. There was a chance I could talk
him out of it. I could be free again. I could be Davey.
But I was truly a slave now, scared of what my father, my master, would
do if I displeased him.
So I stayed silent and the moment passed.
He smiled then and said, "All settled then. Let's get you dressed."
He walked to my old closet and found my 9th grade baseball jersey and
soccer shorts. He threw them at me and I slipped them on.
He picked up the eye black from my desk, put a straight line under each
eye, and said, "You could be 14 again, except now you're hairless."
He ran a hand up my shirt and one into the shorts, gripping my cock for a
second.
Then he sat back and said, "Clean, Cula. I want every reminder of my son
out of this house by morning."
It took me three hours. Everything he could sell went into the garage to
be picked up and sold. My laptop. My guitar. My television. My game
console. He even had a slave come out to help me move my bed and desk
into the garage.
Everything else, everything that mattered, went into the trash. My
trophies. My clothes. Pictures of me and him and me and mom and me and my
friends and girlfriend. Everything in the trash.
In the end, the room was empty. The only thing left was the computer
chair my dad/master was sitting in.
My entire life gone into trashbags or to be sold.
He gestured for me to kneel and he stood up.
And the towel came off.
I knew what to do.

Jackson

I didn't even have to ask. The boy had become a hungry little cocksucker.
The towel had barely come off and he was on his knees with his little
lips around my cock, gagging on my dick as he deepthroated his daddy.
If I had had the funds, I would have kept him for myself.
Somehow, enslaving him had made him seem younger. His freshman uniform
fit him and the hair removal meant he never had so much as stubble
anywhere on his body. The haircut showed his little baby face and his
body was tighter and more toned than ever.
With the eyeblack on, I could almost believe he was Davey and not Cula,
fresh back from practice.
It made me want to watch him really gag so I pushed his back again the
wall and fucked his throat like it was a whore's pussy. I looked down at
my baby boy as he gagged and choked and retched on my dick and had to
stop myself from blowing my load.
I pulled my dick out of his throat and rubbed it all over his pretty
slave face.
Then I picked him up and sat him in the computer chair.
I ordered him, "Drop the shorts, lift your legs up, hold them up, and
open that ass for daddy."
My dick throbbed as he cried and said, "Yes, master."
I would have freed him if he had asked. But the little slut didn't. He
must have known this was all he was good for.

Cula

It was worse this time. Worse than all the other times I'd been fucked.
I held my legs open as my dad/master guided his hard cock into my tight
asshole.
The only lube was my spit and the precum from the blowjob.
But it wasn't the pain. It was the way he did it.
My tight lean body was bent with my arms gripping my legs, but he twisted
my tiny nipples. He slapped me across the face. He spanked my ass. He
licked my face. He even stuck his tongue into my mouth and kissed me.
I had to look at him the whole time. He would jerk my face back anytime I
looked away.
His fat hairy belly on top of me. His stubble scraping my face.
And the things he said.
It was constant.
He'd say:
Take your master's cock, whore. Yeah, you like it, you little slut. You
chose to be a piss drinking slave. Gave your freedom up. You wanted this.
I bet you wish you'd done it sooner.
And every stroke, as I gasped or cried, he'd slap me or spit on my face
or choke me.
Until he came.

Jackson

I groaned as I seeded Davey's ass. My cock throbbed three times, each
time releasing a bigger load up his butt.
If I had been younger, I would have gone again.
Instead, I pulled my cock out of the slave's squishy butthole.
And I stood up.
I looked at him. Really looked at him. I could just see a whip scar over
his right shoulder. His eye black had run from getting spit on or getting
hit.
I had accidentally busted his lip and it was swelling.
He was collared and baby smooth and had a slave haircut.
And I could see the fear in his eyes. He feared me. The way a slave fears
it's master. Not the way a dad fears his father.
I said, "My son, Davey, is dead. You understand? Nod if you understand.
You are Cula. Cula is chattel and will be sold at auction tomorrow."
He nodded.
I felt relief then.
I ordered my property, "Get on your knees and suck the filth from my
cock."
And it obeyed.


Part 16/Epilogue

I fetched close to a million dollars at auction. They said if I hadn't
had the scars from the whip, it would have been more.
The next few years were difficult.
Tex was the one who purchased me at the auction.
Nothing could have prepared me for what being his personal body slave was
like.
He expected perfection.
I had to wake him up with rim or blowjobs every morning. He either
finished in my mouth or ass afterwards. If he felt teeth or I made a
sound he didn't like, I got the whip.
My back was thick with scars by the end of the first year. And he liked
to administer the whippings himself.
After servicing him in the morning, I bathed him. Then I went to fetch
his breakfast and bring him his paper.
After that, it depended on his schedule. Some days were spent golfing.
Some were spent on site at oil fields. Some were at business meetings at
country clubs.
And I was always behind him, ready to meet his every need or face
punishment.
A year in, he asked for my opinion on a deal for the first time. I gave
it and he just nodded.
But he asked again the next time we had a meeting.
I never knew what he thought of my opinions, but he always asked.
Then, I must have been 21 by then, he got off the phone with my father
raging.
I have no idea what was said or what they fought about, but he asked me a
simple question.
He asked if I wanted revenge.
I nodded.

Tex

I enjoyed Davey's tongue lapping at my fat asshole as I made the call to
the local prosecutor. He had become better at eating ass than any slave
I'd ever met. And the whip had taught him to deepthroat and suck cock
like his throat was a boa constrictor, just expanding and tightening
around every inch of my johnson until it exploded.
It was almost a shame my dick lost interest in boys not much older than
him.
In a year or so, I'd have to get a new bed slave.
But for now, I sat on his face and enjoyed the rimjob.

Davey

I had been shocked when Tex told me the news at first. Then I'd been
angry. Then, I realized this was the world I lived in and I was a slave.
So, I accepted it and testified to it in court.
Tex was my real father. The DNA proved it. He had had an affair with my
mom. I told the court my dad knew, hid it from Tex, enslaved me without
the legal right, then defrauded Tex of almost a million dollars to claim
me as his property.
Dad was sentenced immediately.
I watched his face collapse as he realized he lost the case. His young
new wife was crying holding their new baby, my brother, who I just knew
had been living in my old room.
They both escaped slavery. Barely.
Dad didn't.
Tex took me to watch the transformation. Dad was gelded. Tex said it made
slaves his age more docile. His head was shaved and the GPS attached, but
he didn't get the hair removal treatment.
Slaves in the mines didn't need it.
Tex said he probably wouldn't last five years of the ten year sentence.
I knew I should feel bad, but I just saw him on top of me in my room,
grunting and sweating and calling me a whore. I saw him letting Tex rape
me that first time. Making me suck his cock.
Maybe I'm messed up, but part of me hoped Tex was right.
If you're thinking Tex freed me when he found out I was his son, you'd be
wrong. Turns out he knew the whole time. Turns out I also have a lot of
brothers and sisters.
Tex has fucked a lot of slaves pregnant.
The only thing that made me different than them to Tex is that I had been
educated and looked well-bred.
I was replaced as his body slave by a young Asian girl the year after the
trial.
Tex made me his assistant. I help with the business now and it's not so
bad. He had me teach the new girl how to rim him and suck him, sometimes
we still have to do it together, but mostly I help with contracts and
stuff.
He says his will says I'm to be freed when he dies.
I know better than to trust family, though.