Dirt

Two Boys, a Love Story

Preface

Icarus Ring-world, 45 light-years [425,732,871,266,100 km] from Bundus III (775 AF*)

[*AF = After formation of the five world Federation]

Grotus Goodam looked on with licentuous depravity and all the hubris that wealth and privilege can imbue, at the display before him.

"Is this the one?"

"Yes sir," a minion replied. "He's being transferred as we speak."

And the measure of his Goodam's ruthless concupiscence soared as his eyes alighted on the small boy who was brought out for his perusal and intimate examination. That normally timorous boy, now even more frightened, tried to cowl away from the man's touch, but a series of maintained mini-force-fields, held his body nearly immobile. And allowed him unable to make any noise above a shallow whimper.

That boy, with the name of Ranjit in another life, 65 light-years away in distance, and infinitely far away in surroundings, had been awakened after his release from his enforced journey in a SafeSecure Transport Cage, totally confused and in near-shock. Although plucked from a meager and baleful existence in the slums of Kolkata, India, old earth, he suspected his life was not about to improve. At 11 years of age, and of impecunious and uncaring parents, he was about to enter a world of the rich and avaricious, a world in which he would only participate as a conditioned and severely controlled slave.

Grotus enthused: "Absolutely gorgeous, even if quite thin."

A representative of BoyBots, Inc, a long-established boy procurement and modification company of the Icarus Ring-world, offering the very latest in bio-mechanic controlled slaves, mostly offered for use in the sex-slave market, was figuratively counting his commission as he saw the avaricious delight in which the man conducted his examination of the boy as he hung above the grav-lift display module.

"Our agents on old-earth picked up this specimen with your specific requirements in mind. The boy's near-emaciated condition a result of his previous existence, but be assured, a forced diet will easily correct that. But all other parameters are as specified. The ethnic form and dark coloration, the facial beauty, the flawless skin (after simple medical interventions), the generous genitals for such a young boy, and most importantly of all, able to be totally conditioned to provide the most enthusiastic service as your sex-slave."

Grotus hefted the boys nearly black genitals, quite a different tone however from those of Interior African ethnicity, and fingered the slim slack penis.

"Nice, and quite large for a mere 11-year-old; how far will it extend when engorged?"

"It measures 3½ inches [9 cm] flaccid, and 5½ [14 cm] when erect. Remarkable for a boy his age. And if you wish, we can, at a slight extra cost, improve on that measurement significantly."

"No. It is perfectly formed now. Except with gene-splice, those methods can hamper sexual function. I want the boy capable of orgasm, even if dry. I have drugs which will make the boy forever in need of release." And almost as an afterthought he added: "And have the penis circumcised, as tight as possible, still allowing full erection.

Grotus maneuvered the boy to expose his anal opening, almost bending him double. He was delighted with the much darker radiating folds inviting one to explore its interior. Into which he pushed a (gloved) finger. The boy struggled but of course was forced to endure as the finger explored deep within. The man finally pulled out of its velvety interior noting how the black ring of the orifice seemed to want to keep hold of his finger.

"Make sure you upgrade this opening. I want it well-muscled and tight, but not subject to impairment. You have my measurements."

"Of course sir."

They discussed several other features of the boy's body and its soon to be fitted adjuncts.

"Remember, I do not want his cognitive faculties impaired. Just forcibly directed towards his main task. Also, you said that with the new drug implants, he can be forced to remain as he is, a totally prepubescent 11-year-old."

"Most assuredly. The latest drug implants, when properly adjusted, will ensure his immature delights for a minimum of 25 years. And his other mechano-bio implants will make him, well let's say, quite eager for man-boy sex. He will have no other choice."

"Good. Have him shipped to my residence on Bundus III as soon as he's ready."

The boy whimpered as his body was maneuvered toward the elevator which would take him to surgery and his new life. BoyBots, Inc. were the champions with bio-interfaced implants, and with the computer encased within the collar which the boy would soon be permanently affixed, directing those implants, he will discover a new depth to the word 'directed.'

The BoyBots, Inc. representative had already discussed with Mr. Goodam the cost of such a not-quite legal transport. Recently negotiated trade-laws between the two worlds had outlawed the importation of certain merchandise, such as their totally controlled BoyBots. But enough money can erase many difficulties. And Mr. Goodam had more than enough at his disposal.

Chapter 1
Young Love

Dumara Province, Bundus III, (777 AF) – two years later

As the two young boys moved a bit apart from their intimate entwinement, Banu, awakening from his doze – not an uncommon occurrence for him after such lengthy and energetic love-making – lifted his head from the pyllow (a pillow engineered to regulate temperature) which had reformed about his head to insure maximum comfort, and smiled effusively. Another common trait, Banu did everything with strong emotion and frequently, unrefrained action.

Rick, also sill in the afterglow of passion so intimately expressed, merely smiled back. No words were necessary. Young love had anchored itself into the depths of his soul and few words could express his contentment and happiness at that very moment. Nor were needed. The relationship, though nurtured within diametrically opposite personalities, had acquired similar depth and will. And all the vigor and passion of first loves.

After more than a year of being in each other's company, at every chance moment, apart only when the necessities dictated by still being young teens and living in different neighborhoods and occasional familial obligations, the two boys oft were noted to complete the other's sentences.

Rick stirred, and sat up, pushing the much smaller body of his companion off of him, and rearranging his now partially engorged penis.

"Move, boy, you said your father will be home early today, and besides, I have to go home to sort through the store's inventory for my parents, and the stupid program doesn't use voice interface. And you, Drekoid*, have to finish that report Mr. Sinde gave last week already.
[*A drek, a small reptiloid from the southern continent, was notorious for its ultra-slow movement, when it was trying to evade the eyes of predators.]

Both boys attended the local school, and made sure to have the same one-day-a-week 'on campus social day' together, most of their lessons and work transmitted via their school-com.

"Yes, master Rick sir, most beloved but demanding slave-master and all around bossy person, your humble and most obedient slave will most compliantly obey your every command." Banu could barely maintain a not well practiced staid demeanor.

Suddenly both boys erupted in laughter. Such byplay a more common occurrence recently as they meshed personalities and perceived wills.

"I know, I know." Rick continued, "But I know how your father gets. He knows what we've been doing, he just doesn't want to be reminded."

Banu, a much more valuable and unrestrained individual, exclaimed: "Dark Denizens of the Depths of Dumara, I wish…"

Rick interrupted the diatribe. "You know, if we really do what you've been pining for lately, I'll make sure you never curse like that again."

A more sobered Banu rejoined: "You thought about it some more? You think we can really pull it off?"

"You're the one making the biggest sacrifice. And it's your trust fund which will likely be emptied."

"Doing anything for you can never be called sacrifice. Besides, I'm doing it for myself too. We talked about all this a bazillion times."

~~~

It had been several months ago when we had first talked about our future. Our future together. I had been seriously thinking about it, but this was the first time that Banu had brought up the topic. I remember looking up the three different categories of legal domestic partnerships, under Dumara law. And they were mostly the same throughout the Union of Aligned Nations. In Dumara there were three levels legally recognized and each had different responsibilities along with commensurate legal benefits. They were 1) Notice of co-habitation; 2) Civil Union; and finally, 3) full-fledged Marriage. I suspected that most people opt for Civil Union, much less involved if they ever decided to get their union dissolved under the law.

"Banu, I've thought about this some. At age 16, we would be able to enter into almost all legal contracts, and make many far-reaching decisions pertaining to the law. I was thinking about maybe a Civil Union."

I saw Banu's expression. I couldn't believe I had read him so wrong. But I was relieved with his answer.

"Rick, I was thinking about something more. Much more."

Wow. Banu had thought about things way more than I had myself.

~~~

That had been several months ago. We were well past the thinking about it stage now.

"You've talked, I've mostly listened. But when I think about our really doing as far as you suggest, I start second guessing everything. How if we've misjudged your father."

Banu looked at his friend with love, and tried to quell his momentary misgivings. "Look, he likes you. And he'll not want to completely lose his only son. I know my father. And he can easily make up for any short-fall if needed. He's richer than the Gods of the Midas Thrones."

"I'm not thinking about how your father will behave towards me; it's you your father will erupt over."

Rick pulled the naked body of the somewhat smaller Banu against his own, marveling at just how perfect it was. They'd long been past the stage where they needed to reassure each other that their respective physical attributes were the sexual ideal of the other.

Rick exhaled a barely heard word: "Perfect."

Banu, ever impulsive and a major imp at times, rejoined: "And you better stay perfect too. I don't ever want you getting old and saggy on me. I want those muscles of yours to stay firm."

Those muscles were partly a product of his old-earth Scandinavian inheritance, and partly due to the teen's love of sports. Rick was a compact 6-footer [1.80 m] at a lithe 165 pounds [75 kg], having experienced a recent growth spurt. At not quite 16, just a week older than Banu, he was one of the taller members of his class.

Banu, on the other hand, at 5 feet 3 inches [1.60 m], barely tipped the scales at 110 pounds [50 kg]. His growth spurt, so far, non-existent. His father said that his mom, a quite small woman, had emigrated from old earth having come from a country called Thailand. Banu had a 20 minute 360-holo of where his Mom grew up and occasionally played it when he wanted to remember her.

"I'll show you firm." And Rick took command of his friend, slamming the dusky small-framed body onto the bed. His strong ethnic features evidence of his dark Oriental heritage, probably more singularly representative of a single race than most resident of the very mixed people of Bundus III. The only thing not so small about him was his darker hued genitals with its now stiffened 7 inches [18 cm] poking almost straight outward. His teen hormones having allowed it to bounce back into youthful rigidity even after their marathon sex. But his light body, almost bounced back off the bed just as far.

"Oops, we forgot to readjust the controls." Banu exclaimed. The mini-force fields of the bed had been momentarily upped for their last fun session.

Suddenly, Banu remembered again his father's imminent return and continued with his own perambulation towards the room's environmental control. He looked back at the Rick's dismayed visage and exclaimed: "Quick. Showers now."

After adjusting the room's environmental control to clear out the evidence of their previous sexual gymnastics, they joined each other in the luxuriously appointed shower room, its multiple jets cascading over their bodies.

By the time Banu's father, a lawyer of some renown in their seaside suburb community of Dumara Province's capital city of Calais, had allowed his aircar to park itself on the roof pad, and descended into the house's surprisingly modest family room, ordering his usual return-from-a-hard-day-at-the-office-drink from the auto bar, his son was apparently studiously utilizing the terminal of his school-com, while Rick was saying good-bye.

"Oh Rick," Banu's father halted his egress, "Tell your parents that I'm having a celebratory barbecue here Saturday if they can pull themselves away from their business concerns, say about 6 pm."

He boy halted and turned. He really liked Banu's father, a really nice guy and not socially stuck-up like so many really rich people he knew. "Sure, Mr. Otawa, I'll try to pry them away. But they keep saying that with all us kids, they need to work a lot."

Mr. Otawa had a small transitory moment of remorse as he was reminded that Banu was an only child, he and his deceased wife having wanted a large family. He sighed. Ten years and he still missed her. But Banu was the joy of his life, if difficult to understand lately.

"Tell them I expect them here," Mr. Otawa persisted. "I happen to know that your Dad likes Brampf steak and there will be tons. With mayberry sauce. And I've hired the Tillby sisters to cater."

Rick smiled, knowing that the Tillby sisters, weren't sisters. And Brampf streak was also his favorite. He was again about to leave when Mt. Otawa added a last second comment: "And Rick, your hair's still wet. I hope Banu's room's been aired out."

Rick face could not hide his embarrassment, and Mr. Otawa chuckled. Banu himself was afraid to pull his eyes away from the 360-holo in front of him. Rick quickly withdrew and mounted his small scooter. It was a short 15 minutes to his own home in the neighboring City of Calais, to his much more modest, if comfortable home, which he shared with his three brothers and barely-never-home parents. Two of his brothers attended the local university, and the oldest, a nearby trade school. He was by far the youngest.

Rick's brothers were actually unrelated by blood, he having been, until the age of six, a resident of one of the State Boy's Homes, fostered when the State determined they were of good moral character, and of sufficient means to adopt one of its residents. They opted to do jut that instead of paying the tax penalty. They chose Rick because he looked most hike his now older brothers.

Nonetheless, he was quite happy with his adoptive parents who never gave the slightest hint that he was no less important than their other boys. He only wished sometimes that they worked fewer hours. He was determined that he would complete the higher education scheme planned out by his school counselor and become a lawyer. It was a career that Banu fervently eschewed in spite of it being Mr. Otawa's wish that his son would follow in his footsteps. Banu claimed that he simply was not cut out for that kind of life.

Chapter 2
Barbeques and Other Things Cooking

The following Saturday in Banu's back yard

"So what's the big celebration about?" Rick inquired of his friend.

His parents had been miraculously crowbarred away from their store, on a Saturday no less, and were engaged in an animated conversation with Banu's father.

"My father just won a huge punitive judgment against the Goodam Estate."

"You mean the I-have-a-hand-in-every-nefarious-scheme-in-Dumara, Goodam?"

"The same."

The two boys wandered over to the locus of conversation just in time to hear Rick's own Dad loudly proclaim to all who would listen: "I've been against those slave accords for as long I've known about them. No one should be enslaved for any reason. It's barbaric.

"That is a moot point right now, Will. They are so entrenched it would take an order by the gods of Knorr to uproot them. Too much money involved. Besides, this poor kid was an illegal."

The boys' interests were strongly engaged. They had seen the case in the news.

Banu's father saw the two boys approach and said: "Perhaps we can discuss this some other time. This topic is not something to discuss here."

It was Banu who countered: "Father, we're almost at our legal majority, and besides, it's been all over the WSI-net."

Mr. Otawa considered, and replied: "The boy was in a kind of limbo. No authority seemed to have clear jurisdiction. He was enslaved on the Icarus Ring-world and illegally brought here. Bundus III no longer allows even Class Three Saves to be mind-controlled the way this boy was. I took on the case pro bono, and at least was able to get the authorities to have his collar removed and replaced by one which would no longer force control of his actions. He'd been both physically and emotionally abused quite severely. And I also won a substantial award against the estate. However, there is now wrangling about who will get that award. Unfortunately, the law is not clear about the status of the slave."

Rick's Dad interjected: "They should free the poor boy and award him the money."

It was Banu who asked the question no one seemed to consider: "What does the boy want?"

"What does that matter?" Mr. Otawa replied. "It cannot be germane. The boy is a minor."

Banu almost exploded: "The boy was kidnapped from old earth, according to the news, enslaved, and severely abused, and you want to keep abusing him? You're all crazy! Where is he now?"

Mr. Otawa replied: "With the Slave Authority in Calais. Different jurisdictions are debating among themselves what to do with him."

It was Rick who interjected: "Dad, how about us petitioning the Calais Slave Authority to keep the boy until the matter can be resolved."

"What?" His father replied. "I despise slavery. I will not have a slave in my home!"

"So the boy hangs in limbo." Rick said with a look of disgust.

It was then Rick's mother, Eve, who surprised everyone. "Then who better to take the poor boy in. Mr. Otawa, Jebi, you are a member of Dumara's Council this term, and a respected leader, pull in a few favors, I will hire you to petition the Slave Authority to at least allow the boy to live with us until his fate can be decided. And if it is decided that he remain a slave, we will worry about that later!" Then she turned to her husband. "And Will, we will do this."

Her husband sputtered but no words came out. Finally, it was Banu who offered his father the secure com. "Father, I know something about how he must be feeling. It's the right thing to do."

After a furious round of discussion which got almost nowhere, Mr. Otawa bowed under the pressure. He made several com calls. His final one was to the State Slave Court. Finally, he rejoined the party.

His son was the one who asked: "So Father?"

"OK, it's at least in the works. I will owe favors that will take me half a lifetime to repay. But the issue and petition will be heard tomorrow in Dumara's Superior Slave Court. The Dozen Demons of Deneb help us." He turned to his son: "Just what's gotten into you Banu; you are suddenly all fired up about the slave issue? You've been acting quite strange lately boy."

The question was assumed to be rhetorical.

Later that evening Banu and Rick snuck away together retiring to Banu's room. Where they first talked about the surprising events concerning the slave, whom they discovered was named Ranjit. After exhausting that topic, especially the fact that it was Rick's Mom who started the entire process of trying to aid a Class Three Slave, the two boys fell into their typical mode of sex fun.

Banu became the sacrifice as Rick anointed much of his body in a newly advertised lotion. Then proceeded to lick most of the tasty unguent from his lover's body. Banu had no choice; he'd been quite tied to the four corners of his bed. Rick made sure that the smaller boy was brought to the brink of climax, but never beyond. Several times. Then utilized the sacrifice's rear hole as nature intended. Banu moaned and complained about lovers who refused to allow their partner's climax. Rick quickly remedied that problem by the simple expedient of using a gag recently purchased. Two hours, and two orgasms later, a momentarily sated Rick still hadn't allowed Banu's engorged penis to spew the contents of his full scrotum, while having brought his just to the brink a couple more times. By this time Banu was in an excruciating condition.

"Ummmmumpfff," was heard to come from the gagged mouth.

"What was that boy? You need to enunciate."

More noise erupted from the gagged mouth, nothing intelligible. Finally, Rick snuck his finger along the underside of his lover's penis, and ever so lightly drew it upwards.

Banu now erupted from a different orifice, and nearly collapsed afterwards.

The two boys lay in bed later, and merely engaged in a slow but passionate congress. Both so content with their present lives.

Chapter 3
Ranjit

The following Monday morning, home of Mr. & Mrs. Edwards

Rick was on the upper floor of his home as he was getting ready for the one day a week (called a Social Day) when his class met on school grounds. He was surprised to note his parents were still at home. The weekend had been a bit uncomfortable as his parents would stop their conversation every time he came into hearing range. But one thing he knew, his Mom could be more stubborn than a Dumbat chasing a Glory Bird.

Then I heard the ping for an external com call. He knew his Dad would answer since he system showed it was his locus which had pickup.

The very next thing was about the loudest shout he'd ever heard from his Dad.

"THEY WHAT?!" Then a period of conversation he could not hear and then: "TEN MINUTES?!"

Presently, his Mom, against all custom, entered his room without warning: "Rick, your Dad's in an uproar. It seems that this Ranjit will be here shortly. Perhaps you should leave early so as not to complicate the situation."

I was not sure I heard right: "Ranjit? The slaveboy? Here?"

"Yes. It seems that the Slave Authority couldn't rid themselves of the problem fast enough. They sent the boy here!"

"But why?"

"Well, it seems they awarded provisional ownership to your father. He's just a bit upset."

"Dad own's him? He's not just living here?"

"A slave must be owned. If the slave comes here, there must be an owner."

I was totally bewildered. And not a little amused. My Dad… a slave owner! I wouldn't miss this for a month at the Circe Boy's Farm.

I started to laugh until I saw my Mom's expression.

I heard a commotion below and took the lift down. On my way down, I heard another bellow from my Dad: "WHY'S HE NAKED?!"

I had to swallow my intended jape.

I willed the lift to go faster. And goggled as I saw a small dark-skinned boy cowering in the hall. A totally naked dark-skinned boy. A totally naked dark-skinned boy with an outstanding boner transfixed by a sizeable ring. Along with two Slave Authority officials in their somber dark red uniforms.

Dad was nearly apoplectic. Mom had me take the boy with me to my room as my Dad was required to sign a bazillion documents on our home com.

"With me?! You want the boy to go with me?"

"Look, he's frightened out of his wits. They say he'd not been without direct control from that collar of his for well over a year! He can barely function. And I think he could use someone more his age."

Did I ever tell you that I like my Mom?

I wondered just how I'd get the boy, the naked boy, to go with me. I should have realized there'd be no problem. The boy followed any order or direction.

"Ranjit, how about coming with me?"

The frightened boy never hesitated. He nearly ran to me. He was shivering and I did not think it was from the cold. He started to kneel and I stopped him and took his hand, and moved him back to the lift. I'd never seen anyone quite like him, even in a holo, or on the WSI-net. He was very dark but a strange kind of dark. Not like anything I'd seen before. His features were somewhat heavy but amazingly beautiful in their arrangement. He didn't deserve any less a descriptive. And damn, for such a small boy, his penis jutted outward a good 5 inches [13 cm]. I'd never seen that kind of thing before either. Well, that I have seen on holos and the WSI-net.

I literally pulled him into my arms. He clung to me as if I were an island in the Ruthless Sea. We made it to my room and he knelt again: "Master, this slave obeys. What do you wish of me?"

Wow, I thought. Were we in trouble now! Then I thought of my Dad and decided that I had to help the boy get over his 'Master, this slave' stuff. I'd never seen a real live slave before except in holo. I told the boy to sit near on the bed. The controls would at least warm him up, if that was his problem. I was trying to figure out what he could wear. I looked at the time and realized I was already late for school. I wasn't going. Then I thought to call Banu.

"Where in the Seven Hells of Hoarfrost are you? Class is already meeting."

"Banu, come to my house. Now! And bring some of your old clothes."

"Clothes?"

"Call an aircar, stop at your house and get your smallest old clothes, and get here as fast as your butt can get here. Ranjit is here!"

Banu never demurred. He was like that. Why we got along so totally.

I looked at the boy, laying down on my bed, and pulled him into my arms. He held on like a Limpet Monkey. And started crying."

"Master, this save obeys; Master, this slave obeys." It was almost a mantra.

I suddenly had an idea. "Ranjit, listen very carefully. You will no longer say 'This slave obeys'. You will say, 'I obey'. OK? You will say 'I obey'."

"Master, I?… I?… I?" almost like it was a revolutionary concept. Now the boy started really crying in earnest.

I later discovered that the poor boy had been fitted with some tiny control, actually attached to his body, which kept stimulating his pudendal nerve. (The one going to his penis). It had recently been deactivated, but his system was also ridding itself of the long-term effects of several drugs meant to keep him aroused, and in need of sex. Wow. I wondered how I would have coped with that. It was hard enough (pun deliberate) being only aroused 90% of the time. Ok, maybe just a lot of the time. I was a horney teen after all.

Also, that computer in his collar, along with the actual bio-wiring of his brain, he was never allowed to think of himself except as a sex toy. They were supposed to have changed his collar so he wasn't under its control anymore.

Ten minutes later my Dad entered my room, this time the com announced him. Not like my Mom earlier. He noted the naked slave and myself on my bed.

"Holy Denizens of Deneb's Depravity! "

Dad pulled his eyes away from the boy. And towards me. "Thanks for helping out Rick. I was, and still am, at a loss. It seems, at least for the time being, I am the proud owner of an 11-year-old boy. I suppose he's now at least 12, but he has been stabilized by drug implant to stay at 11 for quite some time. I guess we need to see about getting him to a doctor about that, and other things."

The boy had instantly attempted to rise when my Dad entered but I held on.

"OK, Ranjit I'm now your master. You obey me."

A very quiet: "Yes, master; I be your sextoy." It wasn't a question. At east he'd stopped crying.

Damn it all! I already had the sextoy I wanted and his name was Banu. At east that was the plan.

My Dad and I talked about the situation for a bit and I realized that Ranjit was playing with the ring which transected his penis. Right through a horizontal hole just behind the glans. I was told he had moaned horribly whenever anyone had made any attempt to remove it. They decided that there were more immediate and important things to be concerned about. For several days I though his touching that ring was his way of getting even close to masturbation. But I was so wrong. It actually had been so designed, with interior implant, to do just the opposite. To help stop him getting an orgasm. Which if he did get, would merit him a severe beating. Something the boy had indeed experienced on more than one occasion.

"Dad, we have to see about getting this kid off those drugs. He seems to be totally aroused most of the time."

"The drug implants, except that annealed to his pituitary, have been removed. Including the ones engendering his raging libido. It will just take some time."

Just then Banu screamed into the room. Dad turned and addressed us both. "Boys, see what you two can do to help the boy. Your Mom, Rick, has been a daemon, but she is right. The boy needs someone to help him. The report I got from the Slave Authority said that he may never be able to function well unless he stays a slave."

Three days! It took us three days before we could get Ranjit to think of himself as 'I', rather than "This save." But that was good progress. The fourth day he even smiled. The fifth day he went an entire hour with a deflated penis. The sixth day he stayed in his clothes the entire day. (The one's Banu bought over were still way big, but we finally ordered some over the WSI-net and had them delivered. Damn was the boy small).

For all practical purposes Ranjit also became my slave. But at least he was showing good signs of getting back to being a real boy again. Every once in a while, he would revert, but those periods were getting fewer.

And Banu was getting even stranger with me. Maybe he was getting jealous. But he should have known better. We finally had a very long talk. Followed by a long session where I used MY 'sextoy'.

And I finally had digested everything Banu and I had discussed and all the information we had gathered and finally told my beloved Banu I had finally decided: "OK Banu, we'll do as you have outlined." I wanted my Banu happy.

Chapter 4
Plans and Plans

A month later, in Banu's bedroom. Ranjit also present

Finally, a plan emerged. We finally decided that we needed to get Ranjit a sex partner. To find someone, hopefully someone more his age, to be his master. Someone who wanted a sexslave, and a companion, definitely NOT a sextoy. We did take the boy to a slave doctor. He did all kinds of tests and finally recommended that Ranjit remain a slave. Also, since all but one of the drug implants had long been removed, the effect of the drugs in Ranjit's system had started to abate. He was now only super-horny half the time. More like the average teen.

"Look, he had already had a strong predisposition," the doctor stated, "for being a slave. Probably why he had originally been targeted. And kidnapped. And his conditioning has so greatly strengthened it."

Banu said that he totally understood.

I realized that Banu thought deeply into things. On this matter I decided to follow his advice, and that of the doctor.

Ranjit finally got to where he was comfortable back in clothes, his boner finally adjusted to being off those drugs. (That bio-mechanical implant that had also been keeping the boy ever aware of his penis had been removed before we'd even got hold of him, thankfully). So eventually his boner was only bonerized a good part of the time. Ranjit never did regain any true measure of modesty. My parents would freak out when Ranjit sometimes would walk by them with either no clothes, or missing the bottom part. But Ranjit started fitting into his new situation, and to even think as a person not forced to follow the self-image as a sextoy that his brain had been wired for and the chip in that collar's comp forced on him.

Finally, the Slave Authority had determined that Ranjit would be allowed to stay with his 'temporary slave owners,' indefinitely! No more a 'temporary' placement. That was when my parents started taking a greater role in guard, guide, and taking care of the boy. There was still quite a legal wrangle over the disposition of the monitory award from the Goodam estate. I suspected it would be in the courts for months if not years.

Our following lovemaking was near life threatening. I know I visited and revisited every square inch on Banu's body as I first made my intimate inspection of every square inch of his sex parts, and especially every crevasse. I took what I believe my right. I used his rectum for what I believed it's most important function. Fortunately for Banu, I was only modestly endowed. He was slightly bigger but he declined. He said he was a total bottom. And since I really liked pushing my penis into his openings, especially into the radiating dark folds of his anal opening, we were well matched. I was surprised he could still walk the next day. He did sort of take his time sitting down.

Banu looked my way that next morning. "You seemed to enjoy ordering me around last evening." We also had a tendency at a sort of dominate submissive role playing with our sex. We seemed to naturally fall into it.

As for the plans for ourselves, things were well into the let's get it done stage. I asked again how he thought his Father would react.

Banu expostulated: "Well, after having heart-failure, a stroke, and his head exploding while he shouts imprecations which will probably make my occasional sojourns into the realm of cursing seem like a Maucasian's Monk's Mantra, then consulting with his law library, he will bow to the absolutely-nothing-can-be-done a-bout-it, fait accompli, and, hopefully, not kill us."

I rejoined: "Be serious Banu. This is too very important."

Banu sighed and replied: "OK. I believe my father will react a lot like I just said, so when it's done, you then need to get him to first just talk to us. We can make him understand. He really is reasonable, given enough time to calm down."

We had progressed into the getting the legal documents stage. There really wasn't much. Just the report from the State doctor, and the legal petition to be heard by the judge. Quite simple in that regard. Quite monumental in actuality.

"Look, I've already put my entire trust fund in both our names. Did on the WSI-net. Simple after I obtained possession when I turned 16."

Banu had turned 16 a couple of days ago. A legal milestone. And I would turn 16 in a few more days. We planned the court date to coincide with my birthday.

We seemed to rehash everything. Of course, it was pure nerves as the day got closer, actually formally getting a name on the court docket and filing the legal petition with the court and getting a docket number, really made the entire thing very real. We were going to do this.

Banu finally pleaded for us to end our rehashing. "Look we've been all over this. The doctor's visit is out of the way, the documents have been signed and notarized. The court date is set. You know where to go right?" Banu had the audacity to snicker.

I replied: "You only showed me a hundred times." I felt ten times more nervous than Banu looked, and he was the emotional one.

After our lovemaking, we were again reassuring each other.

Banu reiterated: "Look, we both know we want never to be apart from each other; this will help insure it, and gain us significant legal protections."

He continued: "And I know my father will let us live at our home, after he calms down. Might take a few days. But as I said, he likes you, and he'll just have another son to mentor. Better suited to the type of son he wants. One who actually wants to follow him down the lawyerly road.

It was a short while later, when, by unfortunate happenstance, Banu's father discovered what Banu and I were planning to do. Being a lawyer, he was privy to advanced court schedules. I learned later, from Rick, who heard it from his para-legal, who had been in the office, when a yell she said could be heard through the sound-proofed walls of his office.

A reverberating "NO!" echoed through the halls.

A very disturbed man emerged from his office, and screamed past his secretary's station, and into the outer office. "JACKIE, GET ME AN AIRCAR. No, GET ME A GRAV-CAR, I NEED FAST TRANSPORTATION IMMEDIATELY! And bring a legal doc-com and bring a notary! Have everything on the roof pad five minutes ago!"

Banu's father had probably either bent or broke the entire traffic code on his way to the court building in a grav-car no less, where I and Banu were not very patiently waiting for the call of docket number 26 and presented to the judge.

Fortunately, Banu's father was a minute too late to stop what we had planned for quite some time as he heard the judge proclaim: "After carefully reviewing the petition and all relevant facts, and having obtained a satisfactory report from the State doctor, I hereby grant the wish of the petitioner, Banu Otawa, citizen # 45628756, of the Province of Dumara, on this day 24 June, 777 AF, to be enslaved under the provisions of the Unified Statutes, Number 2158, Section 1, and in accord with the Aligned Nations Consensual Slavery Act, section 7. So be it recorded."

According to the Indenture, Consensual, and Non-Consensual Slavery Laws of the Aligned Nations, which had been fully ratified about 150 years ago, systematizing, and actually limiting the de facto slavery on Bundus III, Banu was now a Class Two Slave (voluntary), which carried with it some major protections under the law. Of course, voluntary or not, it was totally unbreachable. And if even still technically a citizen, he had forever given up almost all his rights that that citizenship had formerly bestowed.

And I had trouble making it seem real. If successful (I had better) I would own my best friend and lover. I would own a person. Well if my parents can get used to owning a slave, I should have no problem. But I was a bit concerned still about a warning that slave doctor gave to me when Banu was out of the room.

"Remember Rick. If you do become master and slave, remember one thing. Before you are lovers, before you are friends, you are master and slave!"

A dulcet tone sounded confirming the encryption in crystal permanence, the granting of the petition, forever and without the possibility of revocation, the status of Banu Otawa as a Class Two Slave.

Just as the tone sounded, and as Banu turned to see the person he so loved, and whom it was the plan to purchase him at the next auction, another sound reverberated from the back of the courtroom: "NO! Stop the proceeding! I have a writ!"

The judge was not amused, nor happy. "Whoever that is disturbing this Slave Court, be warned that another outburst will bring you the retribution of this court. If you have a petition to address this court, bring it in the proscribed manner."

"I beg your pardon your honor, I am this boy's father, and I have a petition in my hand to waive this person's rights as a citizen under consideration of this court, until it can be decided in the Superior State Court of the Province of Dumara, that he is of sufficient mental faculties, to make any decision before this court."

The judge paused a moment and asked to see the petition. After he read the document, he announced. "Mr. Jebi Otawa, because you are known to this court, and have been held in esteem by this court for past services rendered, you will not be held in contempt for your outburst and interruption. However, though this petition I deem to be accurate in its content and legally drawn, I must advise you as you should already know, that all decisions as to enslavement by this court are final, and cannot be overturned or even addressed by any State Court. Your petition is hereby held null and void."

The judge turned to the afore mentioned petitioner. "Banu Otawa, it is the further decision of this court, that you be held in the slave detainment facilities of the City of Calais, and be held for auction on the next available date of that auction of said city, so be it recorded."

"But that's my son! My boy." The anguish could be heard in his voice. He looked back at Banu and simply asked: "Why?"

Rick remembered asking that exact question of his friend and lover, several months before when Banu first mentioned wanting to be enslaved.

"Rick, I suspect only another slave, at least a voluntary one, can understand. I already am a slave in here." He tapped his chest. Help me do this. I want to serve you. I want to be your slave."

Two very long days later, I was remembering those exact words when I finally got a slot to visit him in the Slave Detention Facility awaiting the auction. Since I had just registered as a potential bidder, I was able to have both net-privilege and on-site privilege to visit. There was a quite substantial good-faith payment required in addition. I gulped when I noted the amount. About 5% of Banu's Trust Fund which I had access to.

I suspect Banu would be surprised, but his father was joining us. After he exploded for several hours, spent another couple of hours discovering that he had no legal redress, and then talked to several people trying to understand the 'why' of Banu's decision, he finally accepted my com call.

"How long had you and Banu been planning this?"

"About a month and a half. But we'd been talking about it quite a lot longer. It took me months before I allowed myself to go along with it. Banu was eventually quite persuasive. But I will admit. He would not have done it if I had not finally agreed."

"So you admit you made him do this."

"Mr. Otawa, Banu assured me on many occasions, that after you calmed down you would be very rational about this. Are you willing to discuss this rationally?"

"Why you Seventh Salacious Demon of Denab, how dare you speak to me that way. And I had allowed you into my home and even allowed your relationship with my son. He's my son!"

The last was filled with pathos. I commiserated, and understood this striking out."

"Mr. Otawa, it is only because I love your son that I was finally able to agree with HIS decision for enslavement. I am sending the full report of the slave doctor he visited. Please read it, then call me back. I love Banu. I will dare to say as much as you do."

Two days later I was invited into his home again, and he even served me breakfast.

"I still find it difficult to understand even though I know what has been said and written. And I thank you for sending me your private journal in which you had voiced your own thoughts as you two progressed through with this… this decision. It is only when I finally saw the real love you have for my son that I could finally almost accept this."

"Please Mr. Otawa, when we see Banu later this morning, please assure him that you love him. And are willing to make sure I can successfully bid on his auction. Or all will become a disaster. This finally was my last worry and possible misgiving. I looked up the figures on the WSI-net. With Banu's trust and my own resources, I think we have enough but we can never be certain and I am in termoil about it."

"Be assured Rick. I will be a guarantor for any shortfall. I have in fact liquidated several assets just yesterday to make sure you will be successful. That is one worry we can dispense with."

On that more amiable note we were led into the small interview cubicle by another slave. Even though legal, slavery was still quite uncommon in Dumara.

Banu was led in a few minutes later. I expected him to rush into my open arms. I was shocked to see him kneel, and offer: "Master, I obey and submit. What is your will." I almost laughed until I realized he said it in absolute seriousness.

Mr. Otawa was probably more shocked than I was.

"Banu, stand and act like the Banu I know."

He smiled and then rushed into my arms. He was barely covered with what he called a slave shirt. I could feel his obvious boner through the thin cloth.

We had a surprisingly good visit. Especially after he was finally relieved seeing his father's reaction. (I didn't mention the previous two days until a month later). I could see him finally relax and even smile.

Everything else, except for the actual auction, was anticlimactic. The funds he and I had supposed adequate, barely covered his sale. Damn were slaves expensive. But I had forgotten about the slave acquisition tax. His father helped with that.

There was a subtle difference in our eventual relationship. We were still Banu and Rick. But his being a slave made it different. Very different. He seemed to actually revel in it. The more he became that slave, the happier he seemed to become. And his happiness sparked mine. So I became the master he needed.

Epilogue

Harvard University, Circe Island Campus – almost two years later

This is Banu here. I've been ordered by my master, Master Rick if you don't know, to write a short precis of the past two years. Wow, what an upheaval, but they say, "All that ends with the Gods of Harmony still looking at you with favor, etc." I'm at my master's multi-com having just spoken to father. He's still just a touch upset, I can hear it in his voice at times, but all is well. In fact, that is where master and I spend the holidays between semesters. He, of course is in pre-law. I shudder thinking about all those years of study ahead of him. Especially at this university, probably the most prestigious on the entire continent. And expensive? If you pawn your soul to the God of Plutus, you might just be able to afford it. But with that award settlement from the old Goodam estate finally, after a whole lot of lawyerly stuff – and one of the big reasons I stayed AWAY from that career – it finally got awarded to my master's family, joint owners now of Ranjit. Forever owners since, as he puts it, "I am a forever, you can do whatever you want to me type slave." He's so much better now, happier, and more normal. If you can call wanting a master normal. (And what does that say about me?) I really laugh thinking about how all my friends reacted when they saw my name listed as a Class Two Slave at the Calias Slave Auction. But I will get to those topics in a bit.

Let's see, where was I? The money. Most of it was awarded to my master's family as I said, less of course my father's 20% for handling the case. And another 2% for the exorbitant slave transfer tax. Wow, slaves were expensive! To our dismay, that is my master and I, we somewhat misjudged just how much I would go for at auction. We used, of course, my entire trust fund, a hefty sum, and master's total savings, and my father, fortunately, divvied in for the slave acquisition tax which was substantial. That all happened before master's family got wealthy from that award they finally got as owners of Ranjit. And could actually afford the not quite exorbitant tuitions of this famous college.

What happened that spring? Well eventually Ranjit responded enough like an almost normal boy that he didn't need so much 100% attention. For a while there, Rick wondered if he would have two slaves. But as he said, he only really wanted one – me! To totally boss around and have on demand his own 'sextoy.' And do I sure like being his sextoy.

It took a while but Ranjit is now a really great kid. Still 11 years old because that drug implant to keep him stabilized was deemed too likely to endanger him if it was tampered with seeing as it was annealed to his pituitary gland. And Mr. & Mrs. Edwards started to really be charmed by the boy who emerged. They had to be cautioned several times by the slave doc he was still seeing on a semi-regular basis not to treat the boy as another son. He was a slave. It was the same slave doc who finally convinced my father that I was much better off as a slave too, since it was in my nature to be one. Ranjit is now running around the Edward's business running all the other employees raged just watching him. The more he is ordered to do something, it seems the bigger his smile. And he is now as attached to the Edwards as he had been to my master. Of course, he can be out of sight of them for an entire 20 minutes or so now without getting anxious.

Master, early on, finally got Ranjit to stop trying to have his 'master Rick' use him for sex. It took a good while, even beyond when I became master's slave. We eventually got Ranjit relieved of his nearly overpowering need for orgasm (a lasting product of his drug regimen and his conditioning) by masturbating! Something he was so absolutely afraid to do – touch his own genitals. He'd been so punished for it by his first master, who was so ever cruel to the boy. But we still believe, and the slave doctor concurs, that Ranjit will be best served by a master who will use him for sex, in addition to really caring for him. We've been searching for a master for him but so far, no luck. But we want someone as special as Ranjit himself. The Edward's said they would sell him for a nominal fee (to satisfy the Slave regulations) to any guy who would really care for him and make him happy. How about it. Want a cute, lovable, 11-year-old slaveboy?

My master's slave,

Banu

The End