Date: Tue, 5 Apr 2011 16:41:03 -0700 From: Liam R <firstname.lastname@example.org> Subject: Destinies - Part 2 Destinies by Liam Wheelwright Note: this story is entirely fictional and set in a future time when slavery is once again legal and normal. This tale does not include any person under the age of 18, however if subjugation of persons at or near age 18 is worrisome, bothersome or troubling in anyway do not read. Also, if mention of a person, who appears over the age of 18 but is mentioned to have been enslaved prior to his 18th birthday is an issue, again please don't read. Thanks. PREVIOUSLY: In a future time where slavery is legal, a power-mad dictator is overthrown by the brother of a boy he'd had enslaved. As punishment, the usurper has the deposed dictator watch as his own son, 18 year old Justin is enslaved, and given to the usurper's brother...who is to be freed under the usurper's rule. The deposed dictator is then enslaved, and his vocal cords removed, silencing him forever. Now only a number, 513 (formerly Justin) faces the challenges of his new identity as property, and a seeming future of lifetime slavery. Chapter 2 513 woke abruptly, the world dark around him. For a moment, he hoped that the overthrow of his father, and their enslavement had been a nightmare. However, several things disabused him of that hope; the cold are running along his bare skin, he was used too, but the heavy cold mass of metal ringing his neck chilled him; the pain from the still healing slave brand on his left thigh; the heavy metal shackles on his ankles, and the clink of chain as he shifted his legs; and his cock throbbing vainly in side the Slave's Belt, begging to get hard, screaming for an orgasm it would never have again. 513 sobbed, crying silently as his hopes that he'd dreamt it all evaporated as water left on a boil. The shock of the previous day had begun to wear off, and now the cold, hard reality of the situation sank in. He was a slave. His father was a slave. They would be slaves for the rest of their lives...the Usurper had warned as much. Under his father's rule, lifetime enslavement had been reserved for severe criminal offenses...at least from a legal standpoint. Treason, Rape, Grand Theft, Deliberate Vandalism, Habitual Re-offences, and Murder all carried mandatory sentences of lifetime enslavement, without possibility of reprieve, parole, or retrial; though those convicted of murder were first lobotomized so they would not be a danger to their owners. Most other crimes carried varying sentences from no less than 2 years to 30 years. However, 513 had to admit--even if just to himself--it was not uncommon for those sentenced to terms of enslavement between 2 and 30 to find themselves facing ever extending indenture for one trumped up reason or another. 513 had to wonder how the slave laws would change under the Usurper's rule. Would mandatory lifetime enslavement be given to fewer of the current crimes for which it was the sentence? Would it be removed entirely from the judicial system? Would it even be possible to remove it while still holding 513 and his father as slaves for life? That though caused him to wonder...was the Usurper bluffing? Claiming that 513 would stay a slave forever, just to spite his father? As his tears slowly dried, 513 dismissed that notion. There'd been no hint in the Usurper's eyes that he'd been anything but truthful when he made that statement. 513 knew that if the Usurper had his way--and there was currently no means to prevent that--then he'd be a slave forever. 513 was surprised to learn how quickly he could accept the knowledge of his position, and even accept the fact of it. He wondered, alone in the darkness, if he'd be able to accept the duties and realities of it as easily...if he could accept the emotional burden it would require? Chains clanking, he shifted himself into a sitting position, his legs pulled up but spread apart. Reaching down he ran his hand along the front of the Slave's Belt, wistfully caressing the solid metal shield that covered over his crotch, hiding the narrow cock tube in which his penis had swollen. Whimpering in growing sexual frustration, he hoped his Owner would allow him occasional prostate massages to milk the building cum from his body. 513 knew it wouldn't be the same as an orgasm, but a milking would at least alleviate the pressure in his balls, and what was sure to be ever-present sexual frustration. The sound of a door opening drew 513's attention away from his belt, though he whimpered again briefly as his body begged for sexual release. Looking up, he saw another slave move in front of the cage. The slave was naked, as slaves usually were kept in summer months, except for bands about his wrists, and shackles on his ankles, linked like 513's were by chain. The body was creamy, inviting, and the cock and balls hung between the slave's legs were larger than average. 513 caught a glimpse of a long healed slave brand. While he had expected to see other slaves, especially others of his father's former possessions, he was startled when the slave knelt down before the cage. Staring at him from the other side of the bars was his Owner. He had not expected to see Derrek dressed as a slave, since the last he'd seen of his new Master, the young man was fully dressed. Not knowing how to react, 513 simply struggled to a kneeling position himself, and bowed low to his Owner. "It really isn't fitting that you do that, just yet." Derrek clucked. 513 looked up, confused. "My brother made me dress last night for his coup; but until the manumission papers are signed, I'm still a slave like you. I can't even technically take ownership of you until later today." Derrek paused. "After last night's activities, I was, of course, required to return to the appropriate attire of my current station." 513 thought this through a bit. He supposed it made sense, after all Derrek was a slave until the right paperwork was signed and processed. Emboldened he asked: "Why are you visiting me now, then? There was a slight smile on Derrek's face. It was less cold than the night before, but not by much. "I thought I'd take a chance at getting to know you while we're still on even footing." 513 blinked. "Why? I was not under the impression that you wanted anything more personal with me than vengeance for the life my father imposed on you." Derrek tilted his head to the side. "Vengeance?" He rolled the word across his tongue, it sounded almost distasteful, but not quite. "Perhaps." 513 shifted uncomfortably under Derrek's gaze. "Vengeance," Derrek said, "will not change the past. It will not undo the three years of humiliation and misery I endured. And, it wasn't you that did that too me, so my taking vengeance on you would be pointless. The man responsible has already been dealt with." Derrek paused, and 513 felt he was considering what to say to 513's unspoken response: "If vengeance against me is pointless, why then should I be made to suffer for the rest of my life, when surely and equal trade of time served would punish my father as well?" "Hiller, my brother, however disagrees with me. He feels that the wrongs committed by your father warranted a harsher punishment for him than death...or even life enslavement. No, Hiller felt that knowing his actions led you to a lifetime of slave labor, would drive your father made with grief and misery. It is a much more 'fitting' punishment; in Hiller's mind. "When Hiller bought me from my last owner, two months ago; and told me what he planned, I tried to dissuade him. But, brother or not, I was his slave, and my opinion mattered little. He was gentle about it, but put his foot down, as it were." "So if not vengeance...on your part, then why come here? Why talk to me on even footing?" "Because our situations--my history, and your future--are not totally dissimilar. We both were enslaved for the actions of others. And I feel that, while we're still equals, you deserve to know more about me." 513 thought this through a moment. Then he nodded slowly. "Thank you." Derrek positioned himself in a standard slave kneeling rest position; knees wide apart, feet tucked, back straight, and hands resting on his thighs. After a moment's pause to collect his thoughts, he began to speak: "My brother and I are the sons of a wealthy and powerful Senator...." To be continued....?