Chapter 1
Hobie's Guide

The Slave Act

by

Tommy Hobbes

(with notes by his teacher, Mr. Pollard, in Red)

Hi there, I am Tommy, but all my friends call me Hobie, and you will too if you don't want me to bite you We don't threaten our readers, Tommy. Mr Pollard, our class teacher, told me I have to do a guide to the Unified Five Districts Slave Act for school. I told him that I wanted to do a report on mountain bikes, but he said Calvin had already taken mountain bikes, and anyway the slave act should be like my family specialist subject.

I hate that. Just because Dad owns the largest slave emporium in the Five Districts, everyone thinks I should be an expert on slaves.

In fact I am kind of an expert, its just I really wanted to do mountain bikes. Calvin always manages to get the good deals, just because his dad is some big shot in the government This is not relevant.

Anyway enough about stupid Calvin, this is my project, although I got Calvin to come along and help.

Here is Calvin Neither is this. He is the grumpy kid sitting next to me in this picture. The answer to your next question, is yes. Yes he really does look that ugly all of the time.

Me and Calvin are going to take you through the five slave categorisations found in the Five Districts Slave Act. As you probably know already, there are six categories of slave. That is weird because the highest slave category is S5, but that is because they start counting at S0.

I am also supposed to put in something about citizens and citizenship. See, this is why I wanted to do mountain bikes, because talking about the slave laws is a heck of a lot of work.

So anyway, here it is:

Hobie's Handy Guide to Slave Categorisations in the Jurisdiction of the Five Districts

Slavery in the Five Districts is governed by the Slave Act, as modified by district ordinances, and all slaves are categorised according to The Act.

The five categories are:

S5 – Temporary Indentures

This is the mildest category of temporary slave. S5 slaves are what is known as "indentured servants". That means they are still human, so they are allowed to wear clothes and are still have human human rights.

They can't go to court, of course. No slave can take anyone to court, but they can make an appeal to the slave tribunal for an investigation if their indenture agreement is violated.

Indentures tend to be short, although the legal maximum is 10 years, or in the case of a minor S5 slave, until they reach 18 years of age. S5 slaves are rarely traded, although sale is permitted where an appropriate trading license has been obtained from the slave authority.

Examples of S5 Slaves

One of the most common types of S5 indenture is kids who fail their grade exams, or who have behavioural issues, and get sent to summer school.

Another common indenture is for kids who are sold over the summer to help out on farms.

Some bleeding heart liberals ? adopt orphan boys, and refuse to make them S4 or S2 slaves like everyone else, so they make them S5 slaves. They say they don't want to make them slaves at all, but there is only legal adoption for girls. For boys, you have to adopt them as S5 indentured slaves until they are 18.

Dad doesn't trade in S5 slaves but me and Calvin Calvin and I managed to find a couple of kids from the next district who are already indentured in summer school because their schools are out already. We still have another week, so I would say lucky them, but they are not lucky because they are indentured to summer school, so sucks to be them.

Mark failed his grade exams. He had better pass at the end of summer or he is going to be an S4 in the fall. Autumn

Julia is a girl, and girls don't normally get made slaves at all. In fact a girl can only be an S5 slave. The Five Districts does not allow any other kind of slavery for girls. That means that no girl can lose her human rights, because even if they do something really bad and illegal, like Julia did, they still only get an S5 indenture.

Julia was caught shoplifting. A boy caught doing that would probably end up an S3 slave, but Julia just got sent to summer school as an S5. Lucky her.

The other kind of girl slave is where a girl gets pregnant and is underage, or is an S5 slave already. Any S5 slave or underage girl who gets pregnant remains an S5 slave for the duration of her pregnancy and her child, when born, is taken away and sold as an S2 slave (see below). Only if it is a boy

It is so unfair that girls can't be made any other kind of slave but boys can. That is because of the Oestrovirus, of course. Because of that, there are nine boys for every one girl, so girls get away with whatever they like. Sometimes I think Calvin must be a bit of a girl too because he also gets away with pretty much everything. Last Krampusnacht I was sure he would get picked for all the demerits he had in school, but he was not even worried about it. Relevance?

If you say anything to the girls about it being unfair, they say that they are just naturally superior. Calvin doesn't think so, and so here is his theory – I got him to write it down for me:

Calvin's Theory on Superiority

Calvin here. First, ignore everything Hobie said about me. He is just jealous because my dad works for the government and his is just a trader.

So yes, girls say they are superior, but that is garbage. Actually it is more like the top 10% of girls and boys are naturally superior, but the Oestrovirus kills nine out of ten girls, usually before they are even born. Only one out of ten boys die from the virus so that means there are nine boys for every girl. The top 10% of boys are just as superior as the girls.

Hobie's Theory on Calvin

OK that's enough, Calvin. No I am not changing what I said. Deal with it!

Calvin obviously thinks he is one of the superior boys, just because his dad works in the government and that means Calvin will get a jon in the government too, because that is how it works.

I don't really think Calvin is in the top ten percent. I have seen his homework, and you know what? That report on mountain bikes is going to totally suck I gave it an A. His maths is not good either and he sucks at languages. It is weird though, because he always gets good exam results, and when he gets demerits they seem to disappear.

Mr Pollard says there is no favouritism, but in that case Calvin is one lucky… er… I guess I can't use the word I want to on a school report. Calvin is a lucky boy.

Anyway Calvin has no worries. He is never going to be an S5 slave stuck in summer school because the magical exam elves fix that for him. ?? I guess Dad could probably fix that for me too if I had rocks for brains like Calvin, but I get good grades anyway. So yeah, me and Calvin have never been S5 slaves.

Not that it would matter. S5 Slavery does not affect your citizenship rights.

S4 – Temporary slaves

S4 are the first category of true non human slaves. They are slaves for a set period only, just like S5 slaves, but they lose all human rights when made slaves, and that also means they permanently lose rights to full citizenship. The best a released slave for S4 and below can hope for is associate citizenship, which debars them from some professions.

S4 slaves and all lower categories of slaves are expected to go naked. Clothes are for humans only, although sometimes they may be allowed some clothing, particularly in private.

Because S4 slaves are not human during their enslavement, they may be branded, marked or modified without license from the slave authority. You need a license from the authority for major punishments though, like if you want to make them into a lower class of slave or have them executed.

Examples of S4 Slavery

Each year Krampus will choose naughty children to serve a one month S4 period of slavery on Krampusnacht. I think Krampus is just someone dressed up, but Calvin keeps insisting he is real. Calvin can be pretty goofy sometimes.

If you fail summer school as an S5 slave you repeat the whole grade year again as an S4. That is what happened to Andy, who we will get to later. Also sometimes boys with behavioural issues get made an S4 slave, as well as adopted boys who are not adopted by bleeding heart liberals.

Here is Calvin's new S4 slave, Craig. Craig's parents got divorced and his mother left to go live on a ranch somewhere devoted to the superiority of women. In the divorce settlement, Craig's dad was wiped out and he ran up huge debts so in the end the bank repossessed all his belongings and sold Craig on for a ten year S4 term. Craig's dad is also an S4 now, working on a farm somewhere for ten years too.

S3 – Temporary Penal Slave

On the left (illustration removed, sorry, PZA-editor) is Joshua, an S3 slave that my dad is trying to resell. S3 slaves are slaves who are enslaved for a period of time by court order. It is like a prison sentence except there are no prisons, so the convict is made a slave instead. The court may also order other punishments so some S3 slaves may be castrated, branded or otherwise punished. Joshua has been castrated, but he is embarrassed about it and wouldn't show us for the camera.

Don't worry, we told my dad's foreman and Joshua was soundly whipped for his insolence. Dad is no bleeding heart liberal.

S3 is just like S4 except for the penal element. S3 slaves can be castrated, of course, but usually they aren't. Calvin thinks this is stupid. He keeps going on about how it's important to have fewer men who want to have sex with women because of the imbalance, but what Calvin doesn't say is that lots of citizens and associated citizens have same sex partners, so it is not like you need to castrate 90% of boys. The men who get the top jobs can usually find a woman to marry, if they want one.

Even among S3 slaves, there are plenty that don't get castrated, but it all depends what they did wrong. Joshua assaulted a free boy and had non consensual sex with him. Personally I think he was damned lucky to get a 20 year S3 term.

He had good lawyers, I guess. Given what he did, of course they castrated him.

Other S3 Examples

Although boys who have just been bad are often made S4 slaves over Christmas by Krampus, boys who have committed any kind of crimes might be made S3 slaves instead. That might include shoplifting. You will remember that Julia only got S5 slavery for that, so that is pretty sucky for the boys I guess.

S2 – Indefinite Slave

This is Nathan, an S2 slave. This slavery is for an indefinite period but manumission is possible at the master's discretion. This is a special class of slavery like what was often found in history in places like ancient Rome.

S3 and S4 temporary slavery are more like what they had in history in Israel for Hebrew slaves, where all the slaves know the date they will get released. S2 is like Roman slaves because you are a slave for life unless a master chooses to release you. The master has to pay a manumission fee at the slave registry to release an S2 slave, and that means it does not happen all that often.

Like S3 and S4, an indefinite slave is property and not human so masters may do what they like with an S2 slave, including branding, tattooing, castration or any other modification.

Oh I forgot to mention property. Only humans can own property, so any property owned before someone is made an S4 slave or below is forfeit. No slave can own any property until they have been released.

There is no penal category of indefinite slave. Courts always issue a fixed term or whole of life penalty. Court appointed slavery is like prison sentences in other places. They are either for a fixed term or permanent.

Nathan is an S2 slave because he was an illegal immigrant to the Five Districts. In theory you could also be made an S2 slave for being a war captive, but the Five Districts is not at war so that never happens.

Like most slaves who are not castrated, Nathan is forced to wear a cock cage. Lots of boy slaves are also given puberty suppressants which can slow down their growth too. If they have passed puberty there is a treatment that permanently removes their pubic hair which is common, because lots of people think pubic hair in public is disturbing.

S1 – Permanent Slave

This is Andy, he has recently been made an S1 permanent slave. S1 and S0 slaves cannot ever be released. It is against the law to release them. Because of this, the law says all S1 and S0 slaves must be branded with their categorisation. This is in addition to any other brands or marks, so that any new buyers can instantly see that they are permanent slaves.

Most S1 slaves become S1 the same way that Andy did. In ancient Israel, if a slave was approaching the end of his period of slavery and wanted to permanently become the property of his master, he could have a nail driven through his ear to show that he had made the free will choice to become a permanent slave. All S1 slaves are permanent but free will choice.

The Five Districts is not Israel though. We don't damage the slave's ear. We brand their butt and give them a metal collar.

Examples of S1 Slavery

A free person can choose to become and S1 slave. This seems rare, but sometimes a free boy or man will choose to become the property of a man or woman they love very much.

Another time a free person may choose S1 slavery is if they are in trouble with the law and offered a plea bargain. Sometimes they will choose S1 slavery and avoid going to full trial where they might otherwise end up as S0 slaves. In these cases they may avoid castration or full nullification – but that is all down to the deal they cut.

If a slave, approaching the end of their slavery, chooses S1 slavery for any reason though, they won't avoid nullification. Full genital nullification is mandatory for any slave who chooses to become permanent property. This is for a very good reason – some slaves realise they are on to a good thing being a slave. They realise that they are fed and given shelter and if they were to be released they may not have these things. So to ensure that no slave enters S1 slavery lightly, and to demonstrate their total submission to their master, they know that if they will become permanent property to their owners, they must give up their sexual pleasure permanently.

That is why Andy has been nullified. He must love his master a lot to not want to be separated from him even though he knew he would have that done to him.

S0: Permanent Lifetime Penal Slave

Some barbaric places have capital punishment for people who commit very serious crimes. The Five Districts is not so barbaric. Here, anyone who did something that earns a death penalty has the penalty commuted automatically to S0 permanent slavery.

S0 is the lowest form of slavery. S1 and S0 slaves will never be free so they have permanently lost their humanity, and are counted as livestock. An S0 slave has their human records marked with a date of death being the same as the start of S0 slavery, because an S0 slave is just livestock

There are rules for S0 slaves. They must be either branded or tattooed on their right butt cheek to show their S0 status, and must be castrated. No S0 slave is permitted to breed.

They must also wear metallic collar, as a sign that their slavery is permanent, just like S1 slaves.

Examples of S0 Slavery

All S0 slaves have been convicted of crimes. The only way to become an S0 slave is to be sentenced to it, but there are still two general types of S0 slaves.

S0a slaves are livestock animals, such as pony boys. Since the Oestrovirus killed off most of the horses and ponies, there has been a lot of call for pony boys. Livestock animals will permanently lose the right to communicate with humans. In this picture we see Prancer, a typical livestock animal. He had his throat sealed so that he cannot eat and his vocal chords no longer work for making sounds. All his teeth were removed and implants put in that lock to that bit he is wearing. The bit can only be removed with a special tool that fits the implant locks.

You can just about see, if you look at the picture closely, that Prancer has a feeder port cut into his navel. He is fed through that port. Some livestock animals have their ear drums punctured. This is mandatory if they are going to be raced, but sometimes it is not done to drayage animals. All livestock animals are forbidden from any human communication, so they may be sentenced to death if they do something like write a note or type into a computer.

The other type of S0 slave is S0b: General service livestock.

Where an S0 slave may have skills for general service that require communication, the slave may not be turned into a livestock animal. However they are still technically livestock, and in return for the fact that they will be still allowed to communicate, they must undergo full nullification. Livestock animals may retain their useless little dicks, but general service livestock must have those cut off too.

Even though they are just livestock, S0 general livestock will be permitted to go to school if of age. This is to ensure they learn the skills they will need for intended service.

S0b slavery is considered to be under license. An S0b slave who failed in school would be converted to an S0a livestock animal, because no one wants a general service slave that is not good at his job.

Citizenship

Okay so that is it for classes of slaves. All slaves are in those classes. There are also classes of free people, and the most important is full citizens. A full citizen has all the rights of citizenship. They can take matters to law, make wills, be involved in government and such like. Full citizenship comes at age 16 as long as you own property, and have never been an S4, S3 or S2 slave, or else if you are a girl.

Me and Calvin already own property. He owns Craig and dad bought me a piece of land and is going to buy me slaves to work it too one day soon, so we will both be full citizens in a few years. At the moment we are what is known as "minor citizens", which is people who meet the requirements for full citizenship but haven't been through the citizenship ceremony yet, because we are too young.

Associate Citizenship

Anyone who has been and S4, S3 or S2 slave but has been released, as well as anyone who does not own any property in their own right, is an associate citizen. Associate citizens need a sponsor to go to law or make wills and such like, and the sponsor must be a full citizen. They are not allowed to work in government or other reserved professions. They also are not allowed to marry full citizens.

If you like girls and you want to get married, then this means you are out of luck if you are poor or if you have ever been a slave (except S5 slaves). Sometimes an associate citizen falls in love with a woman (who is always a full citizen), and in those cases the woman can take you as a partner, but it is not a legal union, and a woman can have several male partners and still get married to a citizen if she wishes.

See, women get it pretty good.

Illegal Aliens

Citizens, even associate citizens, have to be born in the Five Districts or need to apply for citizenship before coming here. Some people climb the walls from other place to escape worse regimes, and if they are caught and have no citizenship records, they are declared illegal aliens. This is what happened to Nathan, and you will remember that all illegal aliens like him are made into S2 slaves.

B+ – An excellent report, Tommy, written with your usual erudition and attention to detail. The only thing that let you down was your tendency to flippancy and idle speculation. Keep it more focussed to get an A next time. And don't threaten your readers.

Chapter 2
Was ist hier los?

Here is chapter 2 of the tales from The Five Districts. These grew out of my Krampusnacht stories, so no apologies – but fair warning that there are strong themes of slavery in this story. Indeed, if you followed the discussion on the Krampusnacht thread you will find this story (more or less) in a much more succinct form, written by Unikue. Unikue's story had 229 words. My reworking has just short of 10,000 words.

Apologies to anyone who wants short stories :)

Pixel and Smallandy have also contributed to this story, and as a result, the Five Districts has become a much better defined location, and you will have noticed that Joshua and Andy in Smallandy's thread also live there. More stories will be coming from there soon.

We don't know exactly where the Five Districts are, but what we do know is that the people there actually speak German (or a language close to German as this is an alternate universe). That is why they have the Krampus legend, and it also explains the title, which just means something like "what's going on here" – a question one character asks at an important crossroads in the story.

Anyway enough intro, here is the story. Enjoy.

"Calvin, get down here right now. You are going to be late for school," his mother shouted. "Your brothers already left."

"Coming!" he shouted back, and pulled on his top, and grabbed his new wireless headphones from beside his bed, slipping them into his pocket, before running down the stairs to the kitchen. The headphones had been a birthday present from his mother. His present from his father was waiting for him in the kitchen.

"Honestly, it's like a herd of elephants coming down those stairs, it really is," Calvin's mother said, as the boy slid into his chair at the breakfast table. At once Craig poured him an orange juice and then served up a hot, freshly cooked waffle straight from the waffle iron. The slave poured on a small river of maple syrup and topped it with a nob of butter, before going back to the stove where he was cooking sausages.

Calvin immediately tucked into his food as his mother started talking to him about his upcoming grade exams, and not to forget his dental appointment, and did he finish his history homework? And what about the mathematics?

Calvin nodded and made noises in all the right places, but mostly he just enjoyed the food. Yes, he had finished all his homework, even if he did it while watching TV last night. Sure, it might not technically be A grade stuff, but so what? Dad could sort it out if his grades looked like they would slip again.

"Craig, when you are done there, fetch my bag from my room, and make sure you put in the history book. It's by my bed, or under it, or somewhere or other."

The slave served up Calvin's sausage, bacon and egg, and then quietly left to get Calvin's stuff.

"You could bring your own books down, you know," his mother said for probably the millionth time.

"What is the point of having a house slave if you don't get to use it?" Calvin replied, also for the millionth ime. Then he added, through a mouthful of bacon, "I am taking Craig to school with me today."

"What for? I was going to have him cut the grass and weed around the side fence."

"He can do that later. Mr Pollard says he has missed too many days already."

"I don't hold with this educating slaves thing," his mother replied. "It gives them ideas above their station."

"Mum, you know why!" Calvin huffed in exasperation. "Slaves have to be able to read and write and have basic numeracy for most roles. Only the ponies don't need to."

"Still, they could educate them somewhere else."

"It's cheaper to educate them in school. They would need to hire more teachers otherwise. Anyway Craig can carry my stuff and clean my sports boots in break, and line up for me in the canteen."

"That grass is not going to cut itself though."

"He can do it when we get home. There's plenty of time."

Calvin's mother nodded. He did not know why she got like this. After all Craig was hardly the first slave she ever had. Craig was new though. They had only had him a few weeks and part of the reason Calvin wanted him to come to school was to show him off to his friends. Hobie had seen him, of course, but no one else had.

Craig was a genuine certified fully trained virgin on a ten year indenture. A top quality S4, and, in Calvin's opinion, way better than Hobie's slave. He knew it would be the envy of the school when people understood that this was Calvin's personal property, bought for him by his father for his eleventh birthday.

George had his very own slave, but that was a pony, so it didn't come to lessons. Prancer could not speak or communicate to humans, but George rode it to school every day. Hobie brought in their family slave, Theo. Theo was pretty cute, and a very expensive S4 too. Hobie cut it's hair in a kind of cross shape that was pretty cool, but Theo was a family slave, not Hobie's own. Calvin felt pretty special to have his very own slave all to himself.

Yes, his mother used Craig around the house, but he was still Calvin's property. He had already told his friends, and anyone else who would listen, about his slave, but he could tell they only half believed him. They all knew his mother already had Fred, so why did they need another house slave?

Until he brought Craig to school, they would not truly believe that he, Calvin, owned his very own slave boy.

He was not lying about the school wanting Craig to come in either. There was no actual law that said an owner had to have their slave educated, but it was expected, and the slave registry had sent the details to enrol Craig when Dad had bought him. Now they kept saying Calvin should bring him along, before he slipped too far behind on schoolwork.

Craig re-entered the room with Calvin's backpack all neatly packed up, and on his own back. Calvin looked at the slave and grinned. He pointed to Craig's skirt.

"Take that off, slave. It's time to go."

Craig dutifully removed the black skirt he was allowed to wear when he was in the kitchen. Most slaves were kept naked, and in public, all but S5 slaves were expected to be naked in public, but Calvin's family had a rule that any slave in the kitchen must wear a black skirt for hygiene reasons.

Calvin's phone buzzed, and he looked at it. A text from Dad.

"Have a good day," it said. Just that. Typical Dad. He was working in the capitol for a few days, and even though government work was kind of dull, there must be more he could have said than "have a good day," but that was all he ever said.

"Thanks Dad," Calvin texted back. He did not complain, because it was Dad's good government job that ensured Calvin did not have to worry about bad homework or poor grades. It was Dad's good job that kept them rich and allowed them to afford to run more than one house slave. It was Dad's job that paid for Craig, and ensured that even if Calvin flunked school – and he did not think he would flunk it, but you never knew – even if he flunked school, he would never have to worry about being so poor that he could end up an S3 slave himself. In short, it was dad's job that ensured that Calvin and his brothers would all one day be full citizens, the elite of the five districts, themselves.

Some people, Calvin reflected to himself, were born to rule and some were born to be ruled. Craig was obedient and well trained and cute, but he was just a slave. In ten years he would be granted freedom, but even then he would not become a full citizen. Anyone who had been a slave could not expect to be treated like the elite. Like Calvin and his family.

Craig would go to school, yes. He may pass enough exams to get a diploma one day, but there would always be a bunch of things he could never do, because he had been a slave. He would never be a full citizen so he would never be allowed to marry a woman and could never be a teacher, or a government official, or a military officer or a policeman. He would be disbarred from being a company director, and he could not be a doctor, although he could be a slave vet if he worked really hard, and if his former owners sponsored him. Ha, thought Calvin. No chance of that.

Calvin, on the other hand, could be anything he wanted to be. He hadn't really decided what he would be. Government work would be good, like his father, but he would prefer to be a spy or a military officer or perhaps a pilot. He knew that Dad would help him out with whatever he chose.

The only kid in Calvin's class whose family had more money than Calvin's was Hobie. Hobie's dad traded in slaves, and there was a lot of money in that. All the same, mum said that slave trading was "uncouth" and money was not everything. Calvin's family had money and respect too, and there was no price in respect, mum said.

Calvin shoved the rest of his food in his mouth, as he saw the clock ticking away to nearly half past the hour.

"Bye Mum," he called as he opened the front door and stepped out into the warm air of a sunny spring day. He liked the smell of spring and breathed it in deeply, before slipping on his headphones and cranking up the volume on his phone. He chose Megaherz and at once was assaulted by a barrage of sound, and a strong beat that had him walking briskly to the bus stop and Craig running to keep up.

As usual Calvin timed things perfectly. He reached the bus stop just as the bus was coming over the hill, and as soon as it arrived he climbed on and slumped down into a seat next to Hobie, who had got on at the last stop. Craig, of course, being a slave, had to go stand at the back with the other slaves. The buses were specially designed with a standing pen, although it was already pretty full and the slave had to shove his way in, to the sound of protests from the other slaves.

As Craig walked past where the boys were sitting, Calvin pointed him out to Hobie.

"I brought Craig," he said. "My new slave."

"You have a new slave? Why didn't you say anything before?" Hobie asked.

Calvin punched his arm and his friend laughed, and watched the slave squeeze into the standing pen.

"What do you think?"

"Not bad," Hobie replied, "but Theo is cuter." "In your dreams."

"Theo's in everyone's dreams." Calvin snorted and shook his head.

"He is well trained too," Calvin added after a pause, trying to keep the pride out of his voice.

"So's Theo. And Andy too. He won some award for it."

Andy was Joshua's slave. Joshua was in the Middle School, whereas Calvin and Hobie were in the last year of First School, so they took a different bus. Joshua lived nearby though and they played soccer together and knew Andy pretty well. Joshua was the only other boy that Calvin could think of who owned his own slave, and had done so for a while now.

Joshua had a really neat cock cage for Andy. He had been training the slaves cock to become smaller and smaller with a series of tiny cages.

Calvin had already started doing the same to Craig. He had bought the smallest cock cage he could fit on the boy and he would enjoy making the boy's cock smaller and smaller until he was unable to ever get satisfaction from it. Calvin liked the idea that it would probably stay that way even after the slave was set free in ten years. A little gift from Calvin that Craig would keep for the rest of his life.

"Yeah I heard about that. Well when we get to Middle School, Craig is going to win that award."

"Like hell. It will be Theo every time."

"Will not."

"Will too!"

"You are such a doofus," Calvin said. "Just because your dad deals in slaves you think you know all about them."

"Chowderhead," Hobie retorted. "And I do know all about them. Way more than you."

"That's why you only got a B on your report then?" Calvin asked with a wicked grin.

Hobie punched him in the arm. "You know you are Pollard's favourite. There was nothing wrong with that report, and you know it."

"Mine was better."

"You spelled 'Mountain' wrong in the title of yours!" Hobie said, raising his voice a little higher than he intended. Calvin just shrugged and Hobie punched him again.

"What was that one for?"

"I owed you that for last night."

"I told you," Calvin said, with a slight pout, "that I had to go. Mum told me I had to be back and I forgot."

"Oh come on, Calvin, you think I believe that?" "Believe what you want," Calvin replied sulkily.

The truth was he had indeed chickened out of their game last night, so Calvin knew Hobie had a point, but on the other hand, strip poker had not gone exactly as he had intended it.

"We're going to play strip poker and arrange it so that Pascal takes all his clothes off," Hobie had told him and on that basis Calvin had agreed to come over and play.

Hobie's parents were out, and Hobie had invited Calvin, Pascal and Ethan over for the evening. They ate pizza, fooled around with Hobie's dad's VR set up, played some video games, and eventually settled down to the strip poker.

Things had not gone as planned though. Hobie had said they would arrange it so that Pascal would lose, and sure enough, on the first two rounds he lost his shoes and then his socks, but after that it was Calvin who found himself losing. First his own shoes and socks, then his shirt had gone. Calvin queried the rules, and sent meaningful looks Hobie's way, but Hobie had just shrugged apologetically and dealt the cards again.

Calvin lost again, and as the boys jeered and made him strip off his pants, he had suspected that the set up was not against Pascal after all. It wasn't really a secret that Calvin did not like being seen naked. He was sensitive about the fact that his balls had dropped pretty late, and still looked kind of tiny. He knew people made fun of it, and so he realised that the strip poker was a set up. They wanted to see him naked. Naked like a goddamned slave boy.

No way was that going to happen. He was Calvin. He was from the most respectable family in school. He was not going to strip naked in front of his friends.

"Oh man," he had said, when Hobie had started to deal again. "Is that the time? I have to go. So sorry guys."

So, to howls of protests, he had grabbed his clothes, dressed quickly and skipped out of the game.

Calvin was unrepentant though, and as he had made to leave and argument had ensued.

"You can't rat out now. You have to see it through!" Ethan protested "I told you, I have to go!" Calvin said, remaining adamant as he pulled on his shorts.

"You could play one more round," Hobie had argued.

"I am already late. Anyway you set up the game so I would lose, didn't you?"

"You just wanted to get me naked."

"Well if you were not such a prude about it…"

"I am not a prude! I just have a reputation to consider."

Hobie had giggled then. "Oh, your reputation precedes you, Justin," he said with a laugh and Calvin had sworn at him, making all the boys laugh. That struck a nerve, because the nickname was something some of the boys had started calling him. It was a reference to the fact that his little balls were only just in their sac. Calvin had been inwardly fuming at that point.

"It's not that," he had lied. "But you know its different from you slave trader families. No respectable boy would ever allow himself to be forced to be naked like a common slave."

They had laughed at that too and Calvin had grumpily pulled on the rest of his clothes and headed for the door.

"No respectable boy would rat out on a game," Hobie had retorted, but Calvin had ignored that.

"It's not going to happen," Calvin had said, heading for the door.

"Why not? It's not like you ever get in any trouble for anything? Must be nice to have a dad who can fix stuff like that for you."

Calvin had grinned at that and paused at the door.

"That's what it means to be from an elite family. I guess none of you would ever know."

"You could end up a slave just like anyone else," Hobie persisted.

Calvin shook his head again. "Never going to happen. You know it, I know it."

After that Calvin had stormed out of Hobie's house to the jeers of the other boys, but Hobie had been back texting him an hour later. No argument ever lasted long between Calvin and Hobie.

Still, Hobie was obviously still kind of mad about it because he had punched Calvin's arm pretty hard.

The bus arrived at school with the boys still squabbling. They had got so loud on the bus that the driver had even told them to calm down and issued them both a demerit. Calvin was always getting demerits, but it did not matter. Sure, theoretically too many demerits could get you in trouble on Krampusnacht, but that was months and months away still, and in any case, Calvin's dad knew a way to make that stuff disappear. A top government official could not be seen to have a delinquent son.

It was not just demerits Dad had sorted either. There was that time Calvin had been in a fight at school, and that was supposed to be on his permanent record, but Dad had told him he had dealt with that too.

That was what it meant to be elite, Calvin thought. Some kids were poor and they had to work hard or they may end up on indentures themselves. They had to constantly worry about that stuff, but Calvin was not worried. Whatever happened, Dad could always sort it out.

So no big deal about the demerits, and Hobie did not seem to worried either. Hobie's family may be rich from slave trading, but rich was rich, and so Hobie also knew he could get away with pretty much anything, just not quite as much as Calvin. There had never been a child of a government official who had ever ended up in any kind of slavery. It was just one of those perks.

"There's no trouble that Dad can't fix," Calvin had boasted to Hobie on many occasions. Just last week he had said that, and Calvin recalled how that conversation had gone.

"Oh yeah?" Hobie had asked.

"Yeah. Some people are just naturally superior, right?"

"Like you?"

"Like me."

"I can get you in trouble, any day I like," Hobie had boasted.

"You can't even tie your shoe laces right," Calvin said with a smirk. "And you know I am right."

"Are not!"

"I'll prove it. I bet you I can get you in trouble," Hobie had said, his arms folded. "You are gonna lose that bet."

"Bring your new slave to school, and I bet I can get you in trouble so bad that people will think that you are the slave, on the very same day!"

"Loser!"

"So you want to take the bet?" Hobie asked.

"Sure, what do I get if I win?"

"I'll give you my ball that was signed by every one of the Falcons squad."

"Serious?" Calvin asked, stunned by the offer. That ball was like a priceless artefact.

"Serious, and if I win, you give me your wireless headphones."

That was a pretty serious bet, but Calvin suspected that Hobie would forget all about it and fail to pay up.

"I am not sure," he had said, "Chicken."

"Am not," Calvin protested. "I dare you to go for it."

And that was all it had taken. Calvin was no chicken, and in any case it was easy enough to win that bet. There was no way anyone would think Calvin was a slave.

Plenty of kids stopped to get a good look at Craig as he carried Calvin's stuff into class, and went to sit at the back with the other slaves. Calvin could see that most of the looks were envious, or else they were curious. Some of the girls looked at Craig almost wistfully, and Calvin smiled to himself when he saw that.

He would let Ella Stark have a play with Craig later. Calvin liked Ella Stark. He had decided that he would probably marry her one day, and had even told her that. Admittedly she had responded by telling him to drop dead, but he had reminded her a few times since that he was one of the only boys in class who would be guarantied to be a full citizen one day, so she should probably be nice to him if she wanted to marry someone with prospects.

Ella usually ended up shouting at him, but Calvin was convinced that this was because she liked him. Hobie was not so sure.

"She hates your guts," he would say, but Calvin knew that Hobie was just jealous. He would marry Ella Stark, and Hobie would have to marry whoever was left.

"Good morning class," Mr Pollard, their class teacher said," breaking Calvin out of his thoughts of Ella kissing him. All eyes faced front again. The teacher flicked a glance towards Craig, sat at the back, but that was the only indication he gave that he had even noticed the new slave. Slaves got to sit in the classes, but they were not allowed to talk, and teachers would usually just ignore them, unless they created any kind of disturbance, in which case they might send the to the principal for a paddling.

Calvin applied himself to mathematics, but his thoughts were on Hobie, and how Ella was going to like playing with him, and how grateful she would be to him as a result.

The last session before lunch was swimming practice, and the boys filed into the changing rooms to get changed. Slaves, of course, did not need to change, so they went to the showers first, while the free boys all went to the changing room proper. Calvin immediately went into one of the cubicles to change. He didn't really like getting changed in front of the other boys, and was quite self conscious about his body, and the nickname that the boys would call him if ever they saw his small penis and balls.

It was a stupid name, and a bad joke, and that was what had led to the fight that Calvin had been in trouble for. He had punched the kid who had started it all.

That had been a while ago, but even that was not the only reason Calvin did not like being naked in the other kids. He was just kind of embarrassed about his body. He also didn't want any slaves walking out of the showers and seeing him naked like some common slave. He was better than that.

People laughed outside the cubicle, but he was not the only one who liked to change in private. Still, people kept laughing at him for doing it.

"Calvin's too important to change with the common folk," one boy laughed. "Aww he is just shy. Little Calvie-kins," another said, using an exaggerated oversweet voice.

"He is probably checking if his balls are still just in."

Laughter. Calvin smarted, but he quickly pulled on his speedos and walked over to the showers, ignoring the knot of giggling boys, although he did take in that Hobie was one of the boys who were giggling.

Once in the pool things were better. Calvin could swim well. They had their own private pool that their slaves maintained, so he had ample opportunity to practice and no one could make fun of his swimming ability. He was even allowed to use the diving boards while some of the other kids were forced to swim extra lengths.

"You want to show me your best ten metre dive?" Hobie asked just before the end of the lesson.

"I just did one. Didn't you see?"

"Nope, I was taking a pee." "There's no time for another dive."

"Sure there is," Hobie encouraged. Then he turned to the swim coach. "Mr Daley, Calvin wants to take one more dive. Can he?"

Mr Daley looked at the boys and Calvin could see that he was about to say no, that time was up, but Hobie put on his best little boy face.

"You know he is a really good swimmer and I can wait for him if everyone else is going in. Please."

Mr Daley still looked unsure.

"Calvin always tells his Dad about what a great time he has in this class."

Mr Daley probably knew when he was being played but he laughed and ruffled Hobie's hair.

"Oh go on then," he said and then blew a whistle and waved everyone else in to the changing rooms. The slaves had to get out and shower at the pool side, after which they would go straight on through to the canteen where they would have to line up to get lunch for their owners. That was a real perk of bringing a slave to school. Calvin could take his time over the last dive and not have to worry about being at the back of the line. Craig would have his lunch waiting for him when he got there.

Calvin climbed the steps to the ten metre platform with a familiar mix of nervousness and anticipation. He had not been diving from this height for long, and couldn't do anything too special, but he was still definitely the best diver in the class. He felt an irresistible desire to show Hobie how much better he was, and took his time on the edge of the board, preparing, concentrating and then, with the most graceful execution he could muster, back flipped off the board, keeping his hands locked in front of him as he hurtled the ten metres to the water below.

He was not quite straight when he hit the water, but it was still a great dive. He kicked and glided to the surface of the water, shaking his head as he surfaced, and swam for the side.

Hobie clapped.

"Nice dive, but you were not straight. Do it again!"

"We have to go, coach said just one."

"He didn't say that. Go on, see if you can do better. It was really cool, Calvin. I bet you can do even better though. I want to tell everyone what a great dive you did."

He was such a sucker. Why did he fall for that line?

But fall for it he did, and he repeated the dive. This time it was even better, and he surfaced triumphantly with a whoop of joy.

"Nice dive," Hobie said, which was high praise from him. Hobie didn't like being shown up, and this was one thing Calvin definitely did way better than him.

Calvin reached the pool side and climbed the steps. Hobie was already heading for the showers, and Calvin followed a little more slowly. One of the reasons he allowed Hobie to talk him into taking the extra dives was that it gave everyone else plenty of time to shower and change. That would mean the showers would be empty now, which was how Calvin liked it. Showering was the worst part of school sports, because he did not like the other boys looking at his body, and calling him Justin and things like that. He was pretty sure they were worse about doing that because they knew he disliked it so much, but what could he do? He would just much rather shower alone. Well, almost alone. Hobie had already stripped off his speedos and was washing himself in the shower, but at least it was just Hobie. He could hear the last of the other boys leaving the changing rooms already.

Calvin pulled down his speedos with his back to Hobie, and switched on the water for another of the showers. He kept his back to the boy as he washed himself down.

He heard Hobie switch off the water on his shower.

"I'll take these through for you," Hobie said, reaching down and picking up his speedos from where Calvin had discarded them.

"No that's okay," he said, but Hobie picked them up anyway, and walked on through, whistling.

Weirdo! Calvin thought. Slaves were supposed to do that kind of thing, but it was weird for a free boy to collect his discarded clothing. Calvin did not like it, but what could he do? He didn't want to chase after Hobie naked just to retrieve his speedos!

Calvin carried on washing, thinking maybe he had misjudged Hobie. Hobie was not elite after all. He was just another free boy who might be better off a slave. He guessed that was what his mother meant about there being no price on respectability!

It only took a couple of minutes for him to finish getting dressed, and walk through into the changing room, but when he got there, Hobie was heading out of the door already, his hair still all mussed and damp. He must have literally thrown his clothes on.

"Hey, Hobie, wait up!" Calvin called but Hobie just waved and the door slammed behind him.

Rat! Calvin thought. Well at least Craig would be waiting with his lunch so what did it matter? He went into the cubicle to get changed and…

Where were his clothes?

All that was sat on the bench in the cubicle were his wireless headphones. He picked them up and walked out of the cubicle, a sudden tight feeling in his stomach. Was this the right cubicle? He thought so. He checked the others too, but there were no clothes, no towel, no bag. He checked the first one again, but nothing had magically returned.

Fuck! Calvin swore as he realised what had happened. Hobie had gone off with his clothes. He even had his speedos!

But had he had enough time to pick everything up? Probably not, and he had only been carrying his own backpack when he left just now. Calvin checked everywhere again, but couldn't find his clothes anywhere. He swore again.

Okay so either Hobie had taken the clothes when he went for a pee earlier, or one of the other boys had. Either way, there were definitely no clothes in here.

Calvin shivered and considered his options. He could wait here, but it was the start of lunch. No one would come back to the changing rooms until at least the first period after lunch, and maybe not even then. It would be at least an hour before anyone came here, and then what? He would hide in a cubicle and ask someone to fetch him some clothes?

He could go out and find one of the teachers in the canteen, but that would mean walking naked into a room filled with nearly everyone in the school. He felt like his life would be over if he did that! Walking naked into a room like a common slave?

He supposed that was what Hobie wanted. He wanted Calvin to debase himself.

He wanted everyone, girls as well as boys, to see him naked like some lowly slave, because they all envied him. He wanted that because of the damned bet!

He would not do that. He would not give them the pleasure, and he was not going to give Hobie the headphones either. He was Calvin, he would never be a slave, forced to be seen naked in front of everyone. He had his respectability to think about and there was no price in respectability.

No, the only option was to try to get to the student lockers. He had his sports kit in his locker, so if he got there, he could quickly dress in his sports shirt and shorts, and after that he could go and find a teacher, and then Hobie would be in for it. A demerit was nothing against the kind of shit Calvin was going to stir up for him for doing this.

Hobie would regret the day he crossed him, that was for sure.

Calvin tried to use his anger and indignation to drive him on. He opened the changing room door and looked out. The hallway was quiet. He could hear the loud sounds of talking from the canteen, but everyone must be at lunch. Good, so the coast was clear. He slipped out and ran quickly down the corridor towards the student lockers.

He slipped through the door, and there were the lockers in front of him. He had made it. No one had seen him. Man, he was going to get Hobie for this, he thought as he went to his locker. Good thing there was a keycode, and that the locker did not need a key.

Calvin punched in the code, but the locker did not release. What? He tried the code again, and again it failed. He tried a third time and saw the red light that told him he would have to wait a minute before any more attempts could be made.

Calvin kicked the locker door in frustration.

"Slave, what are you doing?" someone yelled and Calvin whirled round in such surprise that he forgot to cover himself. He found himself face to face with the temporary Vice-Principal.

Calvin had never spoken face to face to the Vice-Principal before. He was only here on a training secondment. He lived locally but worked in a school in the next district. The school that he had come from had a reputation for discipline issues, and he had arranged an exchange with the usual vice principal for two weeks to see whether he could find new ideas that he could use in his school. That exchange was coming to an end tomorrow.

"I am not a slave…" Calvin began, his voice shaking with fury and frustration, and the humiliation of being mistaken for a goddamned slave! Yet even as he was about to explain, Hobie burst through the door behind the Vice Principal and pointed at Calvin.

"There he is sir. I knew he could not have got far."

"Hobie!" Calvin said, his voice high with indignation. "Where are my…"

"Silence, slave!" The vice principal said. "And where is your collar?"

"I don't have…"

"He slipped it sir. Look, I have it here," Hobie said, holding out a leather slave collar. Calvin looked at it, aghast. Hobie must have stolen it from his father's stock. It was a genuine red leather slave collar, with S3 written on it. S3? The bare faced cheek of it."

"That's not my…"

"Silence, slave! You will speak when spoken too."

"But I was just in swim."

"I said silence," the Vice Principal roared. "One more word out of turn from you and I will thrash your miserable hide."

"He is new, sir, sorry," Hobie said breathlessly. "He still pretends he is free, and keeps trying to escape. Sometimes he steals stuff. I can't find my headphones anywhere."

Calvin felt tears of fury and betrayal fill his eyes. He glared at Hobie.

"Open your hand, slave," the Vice Principal said, pointing to Calvin's left hand that was closed over his wireless headphones.

"I am not a slave!" He got out before the Vice Principal could silence him again

Hobie crossed to his locker and opened it, and at the same time the Vice Principal wrenched open his fingers, revealing the expensive white wireless headphones. The man looked at Calvin with an expression of disgust.

He handed the headphones to Hobie who had retrieved a document from his locker that he handed to the Vice Principal. Calvin watched furiously as the vice principal read it.

"This looks like a genuine certificate of ownership, Justin," the Vice Principal said to him.

"My name is Calvin!"

"Isn't this you?" He showed Calvin a picture of himself on the slave certificate. Hobie must have been planning this practical joke for ages to have put that together. His father was going to be furious when he found out what Hobie had done.

Calvin glared at the photo on what did look like a genuine certificate of ownership of an S3 slave called Justin, with a picture of him attached to it. Calvin saw that it said he had been sentenced to five years for theft, before the Vice Principal handed the document back to Hobie.

"Its a joke, sir, just ask Mr Pollard."

"Right, I have had enough of this! Come with me slave, we are going to gag you and then I am going to thrash you!"

The Vice Principal grabbed Calvin by the ear and started marching his office, which was just around the corner from the lockers. Calvin squealed and tried to protest, but it was no use. He was pushed into the Vice Principal's office and immediately the man grabbed a gag from his shelf and wrapped it around Calvin's mouth.

"I am not…" was all he managed to shriek before the gag was fastened.

"Get his collar back on," the Vice Principal said, and Hobie moved to comply.

Calvin tried to push him away, so the Vice Principal pushed him across his desk, sending pens and papers skittering across the surface.

Hobie started to fasten the collar as Calvin struggled futilely. What was he doing?

Hobie was going to get in so much trouble for this prank!

"It's a good thing you were here, sir! He would have got away otherwise, with everyone at lunch."

"I am usually here," the Vice Principal replied. "I take my lunch in the office."

Calvin bet that Hobie had known that. Still, did the boy think he could get away with this? When dad found out about this little stunt, Hobie's life would be hell!

"Thank you sir. I can take him now," Hobie said as he got Calvin's collar on.

"Not so fast. I am going to cane him. You can't have slaves running around in the school, stealing things and trying to break into lockers."

"Oh no sir, that is okay, I will get my father to cane him later."

"Nonsense boy, we need to do it right away."

Calvin was still pushed across the desk, but with his head turned to the side he could just see Hobie, who looked disconcerted suddenly. Calvin supposed the prank had been to get the Vice Principal to confuse him for a slave, and then as he was about to finish his secondment, Hobie would have laughed it off, and no adults would be any the wiser. Well if that was the plan, it was going to come apart if Calvin ended up getting a caning! He would have the marks to show for it, and Hobie was going to pay for this.

"Hold your slave down, boy," the Vice Principal said, and Hobie went round the desk and half heartedly held Calvin down. The man picked up a long and heavy slave cane, and Calvin felt a knot of terror in his stomach. He shouted into his gag, and tried to struggle.

There was a swish, and a crack, and an unbelievable amount of pain erupted in Calvin's bare butt. He howled into his gag and instinctively pulled away so hard, that he broke free from Hobie, and managed to push himself up from the desk.

"Get back, slave!" the Vice Principal roared, but Calvin was having none of it. His butt burned and throbbed like nothing he had ever known, and the joke had gone on far enough. He ripped at his gag, trying to pull it off, so that he could shout his outrage and demand they fetch a teacher who actually knew him.

The Vice Principal raised a hand to strike Calvin's face and the boy ducked under his arm, and made a break for the door.

"You little…" the Vice Principal shouted, reaching out and grabbing Calvin by the hair, throwing him back at the desk with a crash that sent more papers flying, and a drawer was forced open. Once again, the Vice Principal pushed him into position to be caned, but Calvin saw something in the drawer. It was a livestock taser, like the ones they used to pacify an out of control slave.

"Hold him down,"the man ordered and Hobie, clearly thinking things were out of control, hesitated. It was enough… it gave Calvin the time to reach forward.

His hands closed on the taser, and he managed to turn himself on the desk. He saw the briefest moment of alarmed recognition at his own taser pointing at him in the eyes of the Vice Principal, as Calvin squeezed the trigger.

"No…" was all the man could say before the probes landed and thousands of volts of electricity surged through his body.

How as Calvin to know that the man had a pacemaker?

The Vice Principal toppled to the ground, his head smashing against a book case as he fell. Calvin saw him twitch, but he was unconscious from the fall. The twitching settled, and now his lips were turning blue.

"Fuck, Calvin, what did you do?" Hobie asked.

What did he do? He thought. What did Hobie do?

***

A key scraped against the door lock and the cell door swung open. Calvin looked up to see his father, looking ashen faced, standing beside a police officer.

"Dad!" he said, and stood up and ran to hug his father.

"The tribunal has just finished," his father said. "Calvin! What were you thinking?"

"I am sorry, Dad. I didn't mean to. I am sorry. But you fixed it right?"

No answer from his father. It was the police officer who spoke. "Vice Principal Lewis died at the scene from heart failure."

"He died?"

Calvin had not known that. Not for sure. After the accident, Hobie had run to fetch help and then they had been ushered out and ambulances had been called, and then the police had taken both boys away. At first they did not bother interviewing Calvin because he was wearing a slave collar, but eventually they realised there was a prank and had removed the collar and interviewed him. They brought him some underpants too, but nothing else to wear.

He had told them what had happened, explained it was all an accident and asked them to get in touch with his father. They had never actually told him that the Vice Principal had died.

"He had a pacemaker. Your shot destroyed it and he went into heart failure. The blow to his head cracked his skull too. They will need to do a post mortem to see which injury finished him off."

"I didn't mean to."

The officer snorted. "You don't know how often I heard that before."

Calvin looked at his father, his eyes brimming with tears.

"We can make it right though? I mean… can you pay his family off or something when we go home?"

Dad looked at him and sighed. "We are not going home."

"What do you mean?" Calvin asked.

"I told you, the tribunal finished. You have to go up for sentencing," his father said and his voice seemed to catch as he spoke.

"Sentencing? But don't they want me to tell them what happened?"

"You are a minor, Calvin. You have been tried in your absence."

Calvin felt a lump in his throat as his father led him out of the cell and along the corridor towards the justice chamber where the tribunal met.

"But you did fix it, didn't you, Dad?" Calvin asked, nervously.

"I did what I could for you," his Dad said, giving him one last hug at the doorway. "Now go on in there."

That was all he said. No "good bye". No "I love you". Just "go on in there". Typical Dad.

Calvin went in and stood in front of the judge, who looked down his nose at the boy in front of him. Hobie was led in too, and stood beside him. Calvin looked at the other boy, who looked as terrified as he felt.

The judge wasted no time in getting to the point. These evening sessions were so inconvenient to judges who were eager to get home and do whatever it was that judges liked to do in the evening. He confirmed both boy's names and addresses and the names of their parents, and the boys nodded their agreement.

"Thomas," he said to Hobie. Hobie was a nickname, a play on his surname, and his real name was Thomas, but it still felt odd hearing him called by it.

"Yes sir?" Hobie replied.

"You were, by your own admission, the instigator of a terrible, indeed a criminal prank that had devastating repercussions. In carrying out this prank you stole a genuine S3 slave collar and a certificate of ownership and carried out an act of criminal forgery. You have been found guilty of all these crimes in your absence. Do you understand?

"Yes sir," Hobie replied.

"I thus have no option but to sentence you to eight years of S3 slavery. You will be sold at public auction, and your family, who I understand are slave traders, will be forbidden from bidding on you. While you await sale, you will continue to attend school.

Eight years! Calvin might have felt some sense of vindication at that. Hobie had got what he deserved for that stupid, terrible prank. Still, Calvin could not feel any satisfaction because he was so scared of what the judge would say to him. He had to see, though, that he had been the victim of the prank. It was Hobie's fault, not his.

"Now Calvin," the judge said, turning his eyes on the boy again. Calvin felt very exposed, wearing just a pair of underpants. "I see that you were allowed to wear clothes for sentencing. I understand that you are quite embarrassed to be naked in public. Is that correct?"

Calvin nodded.

"Answer me out loud please."

"Yes sir," Calvin replied, blushing.

"Well this is something you will have to get used to. For the use of an offensive weapon, and the brutal murder of a school teacher, there is only one sentence I may pass. You will be taken from this place and rendered an S0 slave, and I hereby order that you are absolutely forbidden from wearing any clothes ever again.

"Your father has made representations that you have skills that should allow you to continue your schooling, so you will not be permanently gagged as a livestock animal.

"Just as for Thomas here, you will continue to attend school, but only for as long as you can maintain the grades required. Should you fail to pass any module to the level prescribed for household slaves, you will be rendered as a livestock animal in any case.

"As an S0 slave who will be permitted to retain his voice, the law is also quite clear. You will be collared, fully nullified and you will be branded. This will take place tonight, and tomorrow you will attend school as usual."

Calvin thought that they would take him straight from the tribunal to the slave vet to be castrated, but he was wrong on that score. Instead he was taken back to the holding cell, where he was left to wait for some time before the door was unlocked again and a woman entered.

"Ah, here we are young man. My name is Clara. I am your court appointed transition liaison."

Calvin looked up at her miserably. What the hell was a transition liaison, he wondered.

"I am sure you are wondering what the hell a transition liaison is," she said with a smile, ruffling his hair as he sat on the edge of the hard bed. Calvin shrugged.

"So my job is to get you ready for your transition. We don't have much time, so we had better get started."

Calvin blinked away a tear and looked down again. Oh, he thought. Was that all? He already understood what being an S0 meant.

Any kind of slavery had seemed unthinkable to him, but S0 – that was permanent and nullification? He knew what that would mean, even if he had never yet lost his virginity.

He wished now that he had fucked Craig when he had the chance. He had always thought he would be the one to take the virginity from his certified virgin S4. He just had been in no hurry to do that, and now it was too late.

He knew what else nullification would mean too. He knew his voice would never break, and he would never get a beard or pubic hair. He had seen eunuchs, and always laughed at their stupid sexless bodies. Now he was going to be made one of them, and other boys would be laughing at him.

Clara ran through those points, as well as rules and expectations for S0 slaves. It was all familiar stuff, but somehow it felt so much worse when he considered that it would soon be him who was forced to abide by these rules. Calvin had never had any problem with the castration or nullification of slaves before, but the thought that it was his own balls that would be coming off shortly made the laws suddenly sound much more brutal.

Then Clara began on a subject Calvin had not thought much about. Peeing. "There is an operation that can be performed to re-route a boy's urethra after nullification so that he can pee sitting down without making a mess. However the operation costs money, so you, an S0 slave, will not be getting it. Let's go through how you will need to pee.

"The first thing to note is that if you stand up to pee like a boy it will run all down your legs. You will have to sit to pee, but the pee will come out a little too high," Clara said, poking his penis.

"So you will either have to use your hands to direct the flow," she said, grabbing Calvin's hands and cupping them by way of demonstration, "or you will be required to get on all fours, legs apart and pee over a suitable receptacle or hole in the ground like an animal."

"Under no account will you be allowed in human public toilets, as you will make too much mess."

Calvin blushed and nodded.

"Now stand up, hands behind your head," Clara said and he did so. At this point she began to feel his balls and penis, before leaning in close to him and whispering in his ear.

"Ah yes, these will look nice in my collection. I am going to watch you be castrated, you know."

As she spoke she was rubbing his penis and Calvin could not help but notice that it had stiffened.

"You like that idea, don't you?"

No, Calvin thought. No he didn't much like it at all. He didn't want to be touched there. He didn't like being naked in front of a strange woman even. He didn't want to lose his genitals, he didn't want to be an S0 slave, but he knew he had no choice in any of these things. Anyway his boy was telling Clara something else because his penis was rock hard.

Calvin felt his face reddening as the woman continued to play with him, and she smiled. The truth was that Calvin had only just learned about how good it felt to be touched down there. His small balls had been indicative of slow development and he had only had his first orgasm very recently, and that had been a dry one. He knew what was happening from sex ed, and he knew that he could make Craig do things for him if he wanted, but he had been embarrassed about it so he had never experienced anything like this before with anyone.

And now here was a grown woman, stroking him, playing with his balls, and saying things that embarrassed the hell out of him, but made him even harder.

Involuntarily, he thrust his hips against her hands.

"Oh yes, that's right… you really are enjoying this," Clara crooned and Calvin moaned and thrust again. She kept rubbing and Calvin began to pant. He could feel the moment coming. He could feel his body rushing to that point of no return where his little stiffy would erupt into a moment of perfect and all consuming joy. He pushed again and…

And Clara stopped rubbing. Instead, she leaned forward and then slapped his cheek very hard.

"You disgusting little animal. You think I am going to let you have pleasure from that useless bit of flesh ever again?" She said.

Calvin clutched his cheek and looked at her in horror, his stiffy still rock hard despite the sudden change in tone and the pain in his cheek.

"Vet? He is ready." She shouted and at once a slave vet came with an orderly and the two men dragged Calvin out of the cell and through into a vet's surgery.

Calvin had been in hospitals before but this was nothing like a hospital. The floor tiles were cracked, the paint was peeling, the light was dim, and there was very little equipment in view other than a kind of rack that he was quickly fastened to, his body arched painfully backwards as he was strapped in with his stiffy pointing to the ceiling, very exposed and vulnerable.

"Please, please don't do this," Calvin whimpered. Even the imminent threat of surgery was not softening his penis, and the vet stroked it just once – just enough to remind Calvin of his desperate desire for release. One last release, he realised. Despite his embarrassment, he wanted that release desperately. Perhaps more so because he knew it was his very last chance for it, ever.

"Please," he begged again, and he could not have said whether he was begging to keep his penis, or just begging to have it stroked a little more.

It did not matter. The vet just laughed, and now he was in position, he raised his scalpel, and then took Calvin's stiffy between his thumb and forefinger, lifting it clear of his balls

A few seconds later, Calvin was screaming in agony as his balls were cut away. He begged for forgiveness, for mercy, for anything. He begged for the vet to stop, but the vet cut mercilessly, severing the boy's scrotum, peeling it away and then delicately cutting away the boy's balls before depositing them in a jar. He screamed as Clara watched, smiling and laughing. He screamed as the vet and Clara joked together, and he screamed when they sliced away his penis too, the scalpel biting deeper into his flesh than he ever thought possible.

"Much of your erectile tissue lies beneath the surface," Clara explained as the penis was excised from its root. "So we make sure we cut all of that out.

Cauterisation will do for whatever is left."

When at last the vet was done, they released the sobbing boy, only to turn him over and refasten him, with his butt facing upwards.

"Now for your S0 brand," the vet laughed and pushed a blazing hot iron against Calvin's butt. Calvin's guts ached and his groin was agony, but the branding iron exceeded all the other pains, and concentrated excruciating pain into the ex boy's butt cheek as he was permanently marked with his S0 designation. Blood spattered freely from his groin as he squealed and then shrieked in renewed agony as a smaller cauterising iron was used to staunch the blood flow from where he had been cut.

That was when Calvin passed out.

Yesterday Calvin had been happy but not today. Yesterday had been another world, another life. Why couldn't it be yesterday again? If it could just be yesterday, Calvin would do it differently this time. He, Calvin, was now just an S0 slave.

After he had passed out they had collared him and given him his slave haircut. He had come around in a veterinary medical room where he was under observation throughout the night. His butt was agony, and he could not find any position that lessened it. His groin ached like he had been kicked by a mule in the gut. There were dressings over the wounds, which seemed to throb and burn. He knew that these were designed to produce fast surface healing, but they would not take the pain away. That would be with him for weeks, maybe even months.

His throat felt constricted by his new metal collar. He had never realised how uncomfortable a collar was. He wanted to slip his fingers under it, to try to ease it somehow. It felt like he was permanently choking.

His scalp itched and Calvin mourned the loss of much of his hair too. He knew what he looked like now. His hair, his collar, his butt, his crotch. He looked every bit like the stupid, useless, weak and inferior non human slaves he had always derided. He felt like he was Calvin still, but he knew what he would look like to everyone else.

Eventually they had given him enough meds to go to school, and here he was, standing beside Hobie at the front of the class.

"Now class, we have two new slaves joining us today. I am sure you all know why," Mr Pollard said, disapproval dripping from his tone.

The boys reluctantly walked to the back of the class where all the slaves sat and Calvin saw, as a special extra addition, that a butt plug had been screwed onto his chair. He looked at it, and Mr Pollard looked back sternly, daring the new slave to raise a challenge. Calvin had no option but to sit down on the plug, even though it made his wounds and brand scream for attention. He closed his eyes and gasped, and tears ran down his cheeks. When he had settled on it, he tried to pretend that he did not notice the plug invading his butt, or how submissive that made him feel.

The free kids were looking at him and laughing, but eventually Mr Pollard told them to ignore the slaves and concentrate on their work. There would be plenty of time to play with the slaves at recess he told them.

Chapter 3
Ich frag mich nur warum

As many of you know, Smallandy and I have been discussing and working on an idea that smallandy had. This is going to be presented as a series of chapters in the Tales of the Five Districts series. This is the first of those chapters, which is also a direct continuation of my previous tale.

Soon we will merge in Andy's story with Joshua (see Smallandy, From Dawn to Dusk or Last Day at School), which many people have been looking forward to, but in the meantime, please enjoy this chapter.

Many thanks to Smallandy for reading through this chapter and providing invaluable comments and help.

Calvin

"Calvin, carry my books," Ella said as the lunch bell rang. The boy had carefully risen from his stupid seat with its stupid butt plug, and would have gladly walked out of the class and found somewhere to hide. The lessons had seemed long and tedious, although Calvin recognised that was in part because Mr Pollard, the class teacher, all but ignored the existence of the slaves at the back of the class.

When he asked a question, Calvin would raise his hand to answer. Always before, Mr Pollard would choose him as soon as his hand went up, and praise him when he answered correctly. Always before, Mr Pollard had cared about what Calvin thought.

Not now.

It was well known that the teacher had his favourites. He lavished attention on the children destined to be citizens. Calvin had always been a particular favourite, but now he did not even flick a glance over to him when his hand was up. Instead he waited until one of the clothed free children raised a hand, and then he would pick them.

Ella was a particular favourite of his. He chose her more often than most anyone, although Calvin recognised that her main advantage was that she was a girl. Quite a rich girl too. That was why Calvin had always considered that she should marry him.

Now that class was over, several kids were clustering around him, wanting to get a better look at his recently castrated crotch. Calvin blushed intensely under their gaze, aware of his nakedness, his shame, and his loss. He was doubly ashamed when Ella brazenly looked at the castration scars.

Belatedly he remembered to kneel and bow his head, and then when Ella sniffed her approval, he picked up her books and started to follow her out. He was not her slave, of course, but any slave might be expected to do such things when asked. He understood that he could not object.

"Does it still hurt?" Mark asked, falling in step beside him.

"Of course it does. I was only cut yesterday. That's all plasti-skin and padding," Calvin said. Each step was extremely painful and he realised he walked strangely to prevent it rubbing too badly. He saw someone mimicking his walk, and scowled.

Ella had him bring her books to her locker, and then made him rearrange some other items. By now a group of children had gathered to see the new nullo who had formerly been the highly annoying and stuck up Calvin.

"How the mighty fall," one boy said.

"Totally serves you right," said a girl who looked like she had been crying.

"So, Calvin, according to you, all slaves are slaves because they are weak, right?" another asked, quoting one of Calvin's favourite sayings.

Calvin bristled under the onslaught of derision. Yesterday he had been free, but today was not yesterday. He still felt like the same Calvin, though. He did not feel like anything had changed inside. He had lost his penis and testicles, but that did not change what was in his head. He was still the same boy he was yesterday. He was still the boy who though Ella Stark should be honoured to marry him. He was still the boy who thought he should be in charge of the world one day. He was still the same boy who liked diving and mountain biking and video games. He was still the same boy who hated being seen naked – and especially now that all he had down there was an ugly scar where his manhood should have been.

"We can't call him Justin now," Ella said with a giggle. "More like Just Gone."

In his defence, Calvin's reaction to that comment was pure instinct. He would have punched any boy that said that to his face yesterday, but Ella was a girl, and you don't punch girls. Calvin pushed her instead. He did not think about what he was doing, but his hand touched her chest and he felt her small budding breast under his fingers as he pushed her hard enough that she staggered back, tripping over someone's feet and falling against the locker.

There was a scream, but not from Ella. Ella was looking at him with an expression of utter hatred and fury. Everyone else went totally silent.

Calvin realised at once what he had done. He was a slave now, and he had pushed a free girl. He had touched her breast without permission. He felt the blood drain from his face as he realised the enormity of what he had done.

"Go get Mr Pollard," Ella whispered, and at once two of the boys rushed off to fetch their teacher.

Moments later, Calvin was being dragged back into the classroom.

"Your first day, Calvin. Your first day, and already you do something like this?" His teacher roared, and almost threw him over a desk.

"Assume the position," he shouted, fetching his cane.

Calvin had never felt the cane before. Corporal punishment was reserved for slaves. He had seen it though. He had seen a slave being whipped with the cruel rattan implement, screaming and wailing.

He held onto the desk and shuddered. He told himself he would not be like that weak slave. He would show them. He would show them that he was still the same old Calvin. He was still the boy who should have been a full citizen with a glittering career in the government or military. He would not be like the other slaves. They would see that he was not a weak sub human like them. He was still Calvin.

There was a swish, and a crack. Calvin nearly bit his tongue off at the sudden and unexpected hot, insistent pain that seemed to tunnel into his butt. He tasted blood and without even thinking about it, let out a loud wail.

Another swish – crack and now Calvin squealed. His classmates were gathering round, laughing as he squirmed, his butt alight, burning. Another stroke and he could stand it no more.

"Please, stop," he wailed.

"I have only just started, slave," Mr Pollard growled and with a grunt he brought the cane down again so hard that Calvin imagined it ripping right through the skin of his butt. He screamed again.

"I will not," Mr Pollard shouted, punctuating his words with another blow, "tolerate recalcitrant slaves."

Another blow and Calvin howled. He screamed and wailed like the lowliest and weakest of slaves all the way through the beating. Mr Pollard lectured him on his new status the whole way through, turning his butt red and then starting on his upper legs, down to the knees.

When he was done, Mr Pollard was sweating and out of breath. Calvin was a sobbing wreck on the desk, begging forgiveness, promising he would never be bad again.

With the show over, the kids began to disperse again.

The rest of the day, Calvin stood outside with his nose toe the wall, hands on head. He did not learn much in his first day at school as an S0 slave.

At last the principal looked up.

Calvin did not go home at the end of school. He had no home now.

Instead, he and Hobie reported to the principal's office. Calvin walked stiffly. His butt ached, and he was sore all over. The castration wound was the worst. It was basically just held together by sutures and plasti skin at the moment and every step was a reminder of the operation.

As for his butt and legs, the hot redness had started to bruise now and he knew his body was an ugly sight. When he stood in front of the principal next to Hobie, who was naked, but for a collar and cock cage, but otherwise unmarked, Calvin was very aware of the difference in status even amongst slaves.

The principal ignored them for a while, writing notes on a page in front of him. The boys stood uncomfortably, heads bowed, waiting.

"The man you killed, Calvin, was not just a colleague of mine. He was my friend," the principal said.

Calvin kept his head bowed. "Kneel!" The principal commanded.

Calvin kneeled.

"You too Hobie. I don't hold you blameless either."

Hobie kneeled too and Calvin detected the boy bristling. He wondered if the principal would notice.

"There is a week left of school," the principal said, standing up and moving in front of his desk so that both boys were kneeling at his feet. "In that week, you will be obedient. There will be no repeat of today's appalling display of temper. Nor will there be any repeat of Mr Pollard's leniency on the perpetrator."

Calvin winced. His butt was still very sore indeed from Mr Pollard's leniency. He supposed the principal was right though. The consequences of disobedience could be truly terrible for an S0 slave.

"At the end of the week, Hobie, you will be put up for public auction. Calvin, I understand that the family of Vice Principal Hoffmann wish to exercise their right of first redemption for you. You will not be auctioned. Instead the Hoffmann's have expressed the desire that the school board should retain custody of you, until such a time as they feel they can stand the sight of you. Should that happen, you will become their house slave. If not, you will remain as a slave here. Your duties will be cleaning, grounds keeping, entertainments as required, and anything else that needs doing.

"I also need to tell you that you are both being entered for the Sommersonnenwende Spiele, the Solstice Games. You will both be running, and one of you had better win your race. The prize money will be donated to the Hoffmann's as some small recompense for the terrible damage you have both caused."

Calvin kept his head down. He knew about the Sommersonnenwende Spiele of course. Every midsummer there was a festival of games, and traditionally all races and events were run as threes. One free boy, one slave boy on a temporary slavery term, and one permanent slave would run together. The combination was supposed to have some deep historical meaning going back to a great run made many years ago by three such boys that had saved a city from attack. Calvin forgot the exact details, but whatever they were, ever since that was always the way of it. One free boy and two slaves would run together. The maximum age to run was 15. Once you were old enough to be a citizen, you were too old to run the race, and no slave was allowed to be older than the free boys who ran.

Each race had a sponsored cash prize, and the prize money was significant. Races varied by difficulty, but some races could pay as much as a thousand talers. Traditionally boys from poorer families would run the race in the hope of earning enough money to buy property, which they needed to gain full citizenship.

The high rewards came with high risks too. You could come second in the race without reward or penalty, but coming last was never without penalty. A free boy coming last would be made an S4 slave, and given a fixed term of slavery based on their age, ranging from three to fifteen years.

Temporary slaves did not get to keep the cash prize if they won. Their masters kept that, but by convention, a temporary slave who won could halve his term of slavery. Lucky Hobie was instantly being given the chance to halve his slavery term if he won. If he won, his master would get the cash prize, although it sounded like there would be an arrangement to share it with the Hoffmann's in this case. Hobie would get no money but his slavery term would be halved. That would probably affect his sale price next week, Calvin mused. It would be interesting to see how much Hobie sold for.

Of course, coming last would be harsh for the temporary slave. If Hobie came in last in his race, Calvin knew that he would face extension of his slave term – probably by conversion to S2 slavery. He would become an indefinite slave, and after his initial slave term he would become the property of the race organisers. This was one of the ways the race organisers raised money for the prizes. They would either acquire slaves or else sell the rights to the rest of their slavery back to their original masters. The master then got an S2 indefinite slave by paying money to the race organisers.

As for him, he was an S0 slave. A permanent slave could not have his slavery extended or reduced, so if he won then the Hoffmann's would get the cash prize and he would probably get nothing. If he lost, however, the race organisers would make him part of the entertainment. The spectators of the race would get to choose the loser's fate, and some body modification would be carried out right there, on camera, live streamed to the Internet. He would be used in race promotional material and the broadcast fees would go to the race organisers.

Calvin shuddered at the thought.

Three boys ran. Only one boy would lose. The odds were it would not be him, he told himself. If he ran really fast, and won the prize for the Hoffmanns then it was just possible they would go easier on him.

Who was he kidding, though? They had exercised the right to buy the slave convicted of killing Vice Principal Hoffman, husband and father to the family he would serve.

Calvin just hoped he got left in the school to serve for a very long time. Being sold to a family who had every reason to hate him was even worse news than that he would have to run in the Solstice Games.

Hobie

The last week of school before summer was meant to be a happy time, Hobie mused. Not so this year. All because of Calvin's stupid temper. Now he was stuck with eight years of slavery. Eight years! That was the rest of his childhood and some. He would not be free again until he was 19 years old, and even then, his future was totally wrecked. His right to citizenship was forfeited now. No one would ever forget that he had been an S3 slave, even if he managed to survive his slavery without any major marks.

Hobie had seen ex slaves, associate citizens, in their mundane jobs. Junior employees in their blue collar shirts. Shop workers, cleaning staff. His father had employed a few in his business and Hobie was always struck by the fact that so many of them had tattoos or even brands from their slavery. Plenty had piercings, and some were obviously eunuchs.

No self respecting citizen had tattoos or piercings. Hobie dreaded the possibility that he would be sold to a master or mistress at auction who would decide to decorate his body. He liked his body the way it was, thank you very much.

And then there was the other thing. Hobie was a virgin. He wondered how long that would remain true. Probably not long, he thought, a shiver running through his body at the thought.

Stupid Calvin! It was all his damned fault.

The worst thing was, he realised, that his father's own company was going to be involved in his sale. There were other slave dealers, of course, but Dad's emporium was the largest in the Five Districts, and more importantly, in this district he had the exclusive right to run slave auctions.

Hobie dreaded facing his father. He knew what a disappointment he was to the man who had set him up with property, private tuition, and everything he needed to become a full citizen one day. All that money was wasted now. As an S3 slave, the property was forfeited, and although his father would be able to reclaim it as next of kin, there would be a 10% admin fee to the slave authority. His father hated waste, and would bitterly resent that fee.

Hobie sighed, as he finished cleaning and tidying the classroom, just in time as his classmates filed in, and began to sit down. Hobie didn't sit yet, of course. All the free kids had to sit down before the slaves, so he kneeled with the other slaves at the front of the class with his head bowed, bristling with the humiliation as kids he had always played with as equals now walked past him without so much as a smile. Calvin came in and kneeled beside him, not acknowledging him either, because the two were not on speaking terms just now. He smelled slightly of bleach and pee, because he had been cleaning the toilets.

Ella Stark didn't walk past though. She stopped in front of Hobie and waited.

Hobie was not sure what she wanted, but he knew better than to speak without being spoken to. He may have only been a slave for a couple of days, but he had been around slaves all his life. He knew what was expected.

"Hobie, I am taking you to the prom," Ella said at last, and then walked on to her seat.

Calvin shot Hobie a glance, and his look was one of shock, horror, anger. Hobie saw the look, and also saw the way that Ella was now sat at her desk but had glanced his way and smiled.

Hobie smiled too. For the first time since his sentence, he wanted to grin and shout, although he knew that would just lead to trouble. Still, he could not stop himself from smiling broadly He knew what Calvin was thinking. Calvin had often told him how he would marry Ella Stark one day. Hobie had tried to tell him it would never happen but Calvin had always gone on about his damned father and that damned government job, and how Ella would not be so stupid as to turn him down.

What Hobie knew was that Ella hated Calvin's guts. He had started dating Ella just a few weeks ago. They had not told Calvin, but Hobie had already asked Ella to the prom, and Ella had accepted. It was going to be so funny when he turned up with Ella and Calvin would have no date at all. That had been the plan, but then stupid Calvin had wrecked everything with his stupid temper, and he had thought that was that.

Except the plan was not totally wrecked. Ella had just informed him he was to be her date. Okay so now things were different. A slave did nor ask a girl to the prom, so his old invitation had lapsed. Instead he now had a duty to attend with Ella. It did not feel like a duty though. It felt like the best thing in the world, and more so because Calvin was right there and Ella had chosen Hobie and not Calvin.

The prom was just as good as Hobie had hoped. Ella's father's houseboy took Hobie around the back to fetch Ella, but once he was accompanying his date, the two were allowed to ride together in her father's car.

Mr Stark looked sniffily at Hobie. He was not impressed with Ella's choice of date, but he said nothing. A girl could take whoever she liked to the prom, and if she chose a slave then so be it.

Ella was beautiful. She wore a gorgeous red dress, and Hobie's biggest regret was that he could not dress up too. He, of course, had to take her naked, his penis firmly locked in a cage, which Mr Stark inspected to ensure there could be no illicit removal.

When they got to the prom, Hobie walked slightly behind his date, as he had too, his head bowed, but even though he was naked and a slave now, he knew that his free classmates were totally envious of his date.

Calvin was kneeling nearby, in attendance to serve guests. Hobie shot him a look as he entered and he could see that Calvin looked pretty sick when he saw Hobie dating the girl he had claimed he would marry.

Hobie made sure that he got Calvin to serve them plenty through the night. He danced with Ella, and sent Calvin scurrying for drinks, snacks, a tissue to mop up a small spot of cream she dropped on her dress, and anything else he could think of.

Calvin knew what was happening and Hobie could see him steaming with anger.

That made it all the better.

It was not just getting one up on Calvin that made tonight the best night Hobie could remember. He really did like Ella. She really was totally hot, and he still could not get over the fact that even though he would be a slave until he was an adult, Ella had chosen him. Ella had chosen him over all the free boys in the school to come to the prom with her.

They danced and they talked. She told him how sorry she was for him, and how unfair it was. She agreed that it was all Calvin's fault, and wished that he was still free, or that they had only made him an S5 slave.

"What's done is done," Hobie said. Not because he believed it, not really. He just said it because that felt like the kind of thing you say.

"I asked my father to buy you," Ella said. Hobie faltered in his dance and Ella stepped on his toe, which hurt a lot as his feet were bare and hers were not.

He winced, but as he looked in her eyes, she was smiling. There was amusement, but something else too.

"Are you sure?" Hobie asked, dumbly.

"Totally," Ella said, and leaned forward and kissed Hobie.

The music did not stop and people kept dancing, but Hobie imagined the whole world had gone quiet at that moment, and all there was in the whole world was him and Ella, and Ella was kissing him.

***

The slave auction was every bit as unpleasant as Hobie expected. He was taken to the slave emporium, washed and his head was shaved to a suitable slave cut. His cock cage was checked, and then photos were taken of his body, his face, his butt, his cock, his teeth. It was all recorded in the sale particulars circulated ahead of the auction.

He did not see his father until he was being lined up with the other lots of the day, offstage form the auction block. That was when Dad walked past to talk to the foreman about some details.

Hobie looked at his father, hoping to catch his eye, but Dad was ignoring him or oblivious to his presence.

Hobie did not know which. The men finished discussing and his father turned to go.

"Dad," Hobie said, and his father froze. He turned and looked at Hobie and Hobie saw at once he had made a grave error. Dad's face was a cold set mask, but his eyes seemed to burn with fury. Hobie recognised the look, and dropped his eyes, but too late, the damage was done.

"Ben," Dad said, and the foreman looked up. "Teach this slave its place. Don't leave any marks though."

A moment later Hobie was squealing and writhing on the floor as Ben made liberal use of the shock wand. He had seen the wand used on slaves before. It delivered massive debilitating electric shocks, but did not burn or leave marks.

Hobie had seen slaves writhing under the use of the wand, but he had never imagined anything close to what it felt like to have thousands of volts of electricity arcing through your body. He screamed and writhed, and when the punishment stopped, he lay on the floor, sobbing, soaked in his own pee.

They had to wash him again and give him a chance to stop trembling and crying before his sale, so Hobie was sold as the last lot of the day.

When he was led onto the podium, he found himself looking out at a crowd of people, many of whom he knew. There was a buzz of expectation as he was introduced.

"Lot five, an 11 year old boy currently going by the name of Thomas. Convicted as an accessory to a crime, and sentenced to eight years of slavery, this fresh and fully certified virgin slave boy is fit and healthy.

"Despite being a new slave, he has an excellent knowledge of what is expected of him and should make a good, obedient house boy, service slave or whore."

Hobie cringed, but the introduction was not finished yet.

"The slave is sold with a pending commitment. He has been entered for the Solstice Games. The application cannot be withdrawn, although half of any prize money will accrue to the new owner, the other half to be paid to the Hoffman family trust."

Hobie had never imagined how humiliating it was to have people offering money to buy you. He tried not to meet anyone's eye, as the numbers started rising. It did not seem that anyone was put off by his commitment to the Solstice Games. Why should they be? If he won the games, he would earn them a large cash prize, that should adequately compensate their loss for the fact he would have his slavery term reduced to four years. If he lost, they would convert his term to an S2 indefinite period of servitude but the new owner would have an option to purchase the additional years or transfer him to the race organisers when his eight year term was up.

Four years, Hobie thought. Four years would not be so bad. If he won the Solstice Games, he would be free when he was 15. That still seemed like forever to him, an 11 year old boy, but at least he would graduate from school as a free boy. He would take up his associate citizenship. Maybe his father would even employ him in his business as a cleaner or trainer, if he had forgiven him by then.

On the other hand, Hobie considered, there was a real risk he could lose his race.

If he was placed last, he would become an indefinite slave, and that was only a step above a permanent one. Yes, he might one day be set free, but only if he worked really hard, and not until he was probably very old. S2 slaves could be rewarded for long and faithful service with their freedom, but it was very rare for that to happen before they were into their forties at least, and usually older.

All in all, Hobie felt, the risks to him from losing the race were greater than the rewards for winning. Still, it was not his choice. He was running, and that was the end of it. All he had to do was make sure that he won, so that he could reduce his slavery term. Failing that, he just had to come second.

The bids were still rising as Hobie mulled this over. He was aware he was reaching a good price. Hobie looked out at the sea of faces and recognised Ella's father. He was frowning and looking at the other bidder, who Hobie also recognised. His heart sank.

The other bidder owned the sauna, and it was well known that the good looking boys who served as sauna attendants offered other private services too.

Hobie blushed as he realised the man wanted him to be a whore, but his price was high now and Ella's father was shaking his head. Hobie looked in consternation as the auctioneer asked: "all done at 950 talers?"

Ella was whispering furiously, but her father was still shaking his head. 950 talers was a very large sum for a slave. Hobie did not know whether to feel proud or angry about that.

"Going once," the auctioneer said and Ella was almost crying as she berated her father.

"Going twice," the auctioneer said.

"One thousand," Ella shouted and there was a murmur. Her father looked at her angrily and the auctioneer looked confused.

"May I ask, is your daughter authorised to make the bid?" the auctioneer asked. It was an impossible question to answer. Ella was a girl. If her father said she was not authorised, he would humiliate her, and that was just not done. Not to girls. It would suggest to everyone that she lacked the natural authority that she should have as an upstanding future citizen.

What could he do? Her father looked at Ella, his face set with fury, but he nodded. "One thousand is bid," the auctioneer said, turning to the sauna owner. One thousand talers was a huge amount, and the businessman knew when he was beaten. If the girl could defy her father once, she could do it again. He shook his head.

"Going once, twice, sold to Nathaniel Stark," he said.

"To Ella Stark," Ella's father corrected.

"My apologies, sold to Ella Stark," the auctioneer said, and Hobie was led away while money was transferred and papers filed with the slave authority. He was now Ella's personal property.

If Hobie had thought that being the personal property of the girl he liked would be easy, he was soon disabused of that impression. Almost at once he was instructed of very many duties around the family home, and new chores were added to the ever growing list every day.

In addition to these duties, Ella was so delighted with her new purchase that she took Hobie with her everywhere. They wouldn't let him in the mall, which was a slave free zone, so he spent many boring hours tethered out the front while Ella went shopping with her friends. Sometimes other slaves were tethered nearby and they could chat – if the slave was not livestock, and not gagged or otherwise forbidden from talking.

Most of the time Hobie just stood – he was not allowed to sit – where he had been tethered and waited until Ella came out, clutching boxes and bags that Hobie had to carry precariously home.

Ella also quickly demonstrated that she was more sexually advanced than Hobie had expected. The first night when her parents were out, she brought Hobie up to her bedroom and played a series of games that involved spanking him and then making him put his tongue into a private place that Hobie was pretty sure her father would not approve of.

Hobie felt a mixture of disgust and humiliation, but also arousal when he played these games, and saw Ella's naked body, her breasts just starting to bud. He learned quickly the dangers of becoming aroused while wearing a cock cage, and Ella giggled mercilessly as he writhed around, holding himself as his penis warred with the metal bars that fought to keep him flaccid.

"I always liked you, Hobie," Ella admitted, one evening after Hobie had again been providing the service she demanded, and she had gasped her way through an ensuing orgasm.

"I always liked you too," Hobie replied, although truth to tell, he had barely noticed her until the last year.

"If you ever kiss another girl, I will have your balls cut off," she said running a finger down Hobie's cheek. The boy shuddered and he winced at the bite of his cock cage again.

"I will never kiss any girl but you," Hobie told her.

"Too right," she told him. "Now kiss me again."

So he did kiss her, and he liked it. What he really wanted was to get the damned cock cage off and to relieve himself, but he knew that would not happen any time soon. Mr Stark would not trust an uncaged slave with his daughter, he knew.

Hobie reflected on the unequal nature of the relationship now. Ella called all the shots. She didn't have to make any promise about not kissing another boy. Of course she would kiss others. Hobie understood that he had no exclusive right to her, even though she had rights to him.

His desire for her was strong though. Stronger because it was unfulfilled. His dreams were full of images of Ella's naked body intertwining with his. It made him wake up in agony from his crotch.

Ella's father did not miss the signs, and one morning he sat at the table and spoke to his daughter, while Hobie was preparing her some breakfast.

"I think we need to put Hobie on puberty suppressants," he said. "It will slow everything down for him. I am sure he will be happier."

"No, Dad," Ella objected. "I want him to grow up with me."

"We will just try it for a while. We can review in a few months."

An argument ensued, but for once Mr Stark prevailed. The next day Hobie was started on the medication designed to slow down his growth and halt puberty. Hobie got no say in it. He would certainly have objected if he was allowed. He knew about the treatment. He knew that it would mean he would grow up more slowly over the next few years, his voice would not break, he would get no hairs down there. It was a chemical castration, and the only redeeming factor was that, unlike castrated slaves, he could go through puberty normally when the medication was stopped.

It did not eradicate his desire either, although the painful dreams did ease a little after the treatment started. He found he wanted Ella just as much, but the desire was now more like an ache inside and a powerful awareness of the restraint on his penis.

Ella resented the decision at first too, but then she seemed to come around. She started talking to Hobie as though he were younger than her, and told all her friends about how he was going to be kept small with his useless little hairless little boy peepee, which she was going to train to be even smaller again. She had already ordered the sequence of cock cages that would train his penis to be tiny and useless.

Hobie listened as the girls discussed him, poked and prodded him. He wanted to answer them back, but he knew his place. He was just a slave now.

Damn Calvin, he thought.

Chapter 4
Joshua Returns

In this chapter we learn much more about Joshua. This chapter comes from the imagination of, and with the collaboration of, Smallandy. Please be aware that all the renders and most of the story are his. He has written this preface to go with this chapter:

Preface from Smallandy:

My dear readers, I proudly present you my fist work in the collaboration with nonpareil Calvinus.

This story takes part in the Five District universe and is the direct continuation of my previous works (see Smallandy, From Dawn to Dusk or Last Day at School).

Joshua

"Dad!" Joshua shouted, leaping from the bus and running up the driveway and into the arms of his father.

"Josh!" Mr Jefferson, Joshua's father, shouted the reply, every bit as ecstatic to see his son return from the weeks of summer school where he had been serving out his S5 slavery sentence. "I'm so happy you're back! Welcome home, son!"

Father and son hugged tight, Joshua squeezing into the reassuring arms of his father. The sentence had been lenient, considering that Joshua had been running an underground slave racing and gambling ring, but he had still spent four weeks in summer school, with his penis locked away in a cock cage to keep him out of trouble. He was so glad to be finally home.

"I missed you so much, Dad!" "Your uniform is sweet," Mr Jefferson said, holding his son at arms length now and taking in his pink tee shirt and green briefs. S5 slaves got to wear clothes, unlike all other slaves, but the school uniform made sure that they were pretty embarrassing clothes. Sweet, but embarrassing.

"Let's go shopping, I'll buy you some new shorts," Mr Jefferson said. Now he was a free boy again, there was no reason he should not get to wear what all the other kids were wearing.

"No way!" Joshua replied and his father looked at him in surprise. His son was turning down the chance for new shorts?

"These are my happy briefs now," Joshua explained. "I am kind of used to them. I am going to keep wearing them."

Mr. Jefferson shook his head slightly, amusement clearly evident in the wide smile he gave his son.

"OK, son, but you know people will giggle and stare at you, and wonder if you are still and S5 slave. Don't tell me that I didn't warn you, when they do."

"I won't," Joshua promised solemnly. He was looking around now, looking for the one other person he had missed more than anyone could know over the last four weeks. He looked at his father, and asked the question he had been wondering about since getting off the bus.

"Father, where's Andy?"

His father's expression clouded slightly, the smile becoming a slight frown. He looked Joshua in the eye before answering.

"Actually, Anker. He is Anker now," he said.

"Ank.. Who? Why?" Joshua asked, puzzled and slightly alarmed by his father's response.

"Anker. Because, my dear son in the tight briefs, your Andy is S1 slave now, remember? It is not appropriate for him to be called Andy anymore – that was his human name, so I chose a new name for him, while you were away."

Joshua took in this information with a frown. Andy would always be Andy to him.

Andy who had given up so much to be his very own S1 slave. Andy who would never know the joy of orgasm now. Andy who had once liked girls and might have hoped to be the partner of one when he was set free – although he would have never been a citizen, of course, so could not have married a girl. He had been an S4 slave, but he would still have been set free in a few years and then he might have found a girl who would take him as a partner when he was an associate citizen.

Andy had given all that up for Joshua. It had kept Joshua going through the boring weeks of summer school. The thought that he had his very own slave waiting for him when he came home had helped him through all the frustrations of extra schooling, and indeed, the frustration of the cock cage that had only been removed this morning.

Now Joshua was horny and eager to see his slave. He wanted to give Andy a very special greeting. He had been thinking about it all the way home on the bus, and he had been forced to keep his hands in his lap to hide the tentpole in his briefs at the thought of what he would do when he saw his slave again.

"So where is he?" Joshua asked, still looking around. Andy or Anker, the name was less relevant than the fact that he was not here.

"He is in the City Race Club, Josh," his father said in a quiet tone, almost a sad one. Joshua looked up sharply at his father.

"Where?" he demanded. What was he doing there, of all places? Andy was his slave. His place was here, to greet his master's homecoming. He should not be in some race club. He should especially not be racing without Joshua's say so. It was Joshua who had trained him. It was Joshua who had seen Andy's potential as a runner. It was Joshua who had set up the underground racing that had got him in trouble in the first place. He felt a surge of anger inside, and glared at his father.

"Don't worry," his father said, "it is not forever. He will be back in a few more months."

"Months?" Joshua asked. "But I want him now!"

"What could I do?" Mr Jefferson said. "You know our financial situation. We did not have the money to buy a slave, which is why we had Andy on loan from the school in the first place. When he chose to become an S1 slave, well we had to buy out the rest of his initial slavery term. That was expensive, you remember?"

"I know, Dad, but you mortgaged him, didn't you? He was worth way more as an S1 slave, so I thought you mortgaged him to pay the school."

"Yes, but a mortgage must still be repaid. I took a loan out with City Slaves and Racing Financial Services. I have to make a monthly repayment on that loan."

Joshua nodded, but he could see there was more to it than that. They had discussed the loan, and his father had agreed they could meet the repayments. He looked at his father, and waited for him to go on.

Mr Jefferson sighed.

"I was not counting on the school playing hardball over your gambling business," he said, lifting Joshua's chin with his fingers so that his son would look into his eyes.

"What do you mean?" Joshua asked.

"Well, you know that they were very unhappy about your slave races and gambling. They wanted to expel you, and they argued that you should become an S4 slave. Because you used their property, they had that right. Your enterprise was not criminal, but the school argued that using the old hall was."

"But that hall was falling down. They were about to tear it down and turn it into a new library," Joshua objected.

"Nevertheless, they were ready to make a big deal about it. That is why I felt I had to buy Hugh on right of first redemption, and then gave him to the school."

"Ah," was all Joshua said. He remembered that. Because Hugh's crime was against Joshua, he had been able to get the slave at the cheap reserve price without sending him to auction. It was a cheap way to get a slave, but it was still a lot of money for someone whose finances were not that great. His father had given the slave to the school then, and that was when the school had agreed to a month of S5 slavery for Joshua and to summer school.

"And summer school – I had to pay for that too, you know? It has been a very expensive business."

"There was the money I made…" Joshua said.

"I am sorry, but no. That was paid over in fines. Your money is all gone, Josh."

Joshua was quiet for a while. All gone? He had no money, and his father had spent so much too? All to keep him out of S4 slavery.

One month of S5 slavery was nothing compared to a year or even many years as an S4 slave. If he had been made an S4 slave, he would have lost all rights to future citizenship, so he understood why his father had done what he did, and he was very grateful. He began to feel worry, however, about how much money had been spent.

Money they did not have.

"You know I work hard," Mr Jefferson said. "And after all, what good was your slave doing home alone? I couldn't take him into the office, and I could not leave him on his own all day. He is doing well in the club. They have been training him to run better and he has participated in races.

"This is a really good deal for us, you know?" He said. "Because my loan is with the financial services wing of the same business, all the time he is leased there he is paying off the loan, and there are no repayment overheads. We will leave him where he is for maybe six months, maybe a year – whatever the club want – and eventually you will have your slave back."

"Six months? A year?" Joshua said, his mouth falling open in shock. That seemed like an eternity away. "Can't we just take him back now?"

"I am sorry, Joshy," his father said, using his pet name for his son, as he looked at him sadly. "I am so sorry, but no. The minimal lease time was for the whole season. The club would not have taken him for less. They could not train up a slave and have him taken away. He is there at least six months, and they have renewal options too, although I am sure they won't insist on those…"

Joshua looked at his father, aghast, anger welling up inside him. All this had been determined in his absence, but Andy was his slave. Not Dad's, but his. He had become an S1 slave for Joshua, not for anyone else.

"How could you?" he shouted, furious now.

What should he do? How was he going to get Andy back now? He had to find a way. Not in six months, not in a year. He had to get him back right now.

"I need to see him right now," he told his father.

***

Andy had spent weeks in the Race Club. Those were the worst weeks of his life. He had been tethered, whipped, trained and humiliated endlessly. The food was just the most basic damp grey slave gruel, if he was fed at all, and for hour after hour he was ordered to stand totally still in the training "pony attention" position. He stood so long in the position that his mind went almost blank from boredom, and his muscles ached all over.

He longed for Joshua's return. Andy counted the days, knowing that Joshua would not abandon him once he returned from summer school. He counted the days until the day he woke up and knew that today was the day.

He couldn't speak because of the bit he constantly wore. He even couldn't move a finger. He submitted to more hours of standing at 'pony attention', but today, at last, he was absolutely sure that he would see Joshua walking into the yard to find him.

Joshua would fix everything.

***

Joshua walked up to a billboard announcing the Summer Solstice games. There was a boy already looking at the board, so Joshua read it out loud as he approached.

"Summer Solstice Games. Win or Slavery!"

"They should use the motto Money or Slavery, it would be more honest," the other boy said. He turned and smiled and Joshua felt like he was seeing double.

"Hi, is it you on the billboard?" he asked, and the boy nodded.

"Yeah, it's me," he said with a rueful grin. "I am Jason."

"Joshua. So you will run?" Joshua asked, indicating the board again.

"Yeah," said the boy, who was staring at Joshua's clothing. "Nice briefs, by the way. Are you slave boy?"

Joshua grinned. His dad had been right about that. Well of course, he looked like he had escaped from summer school. He still wore the tee shirt and was walking around in his tight underpants. It was natural enough that this boy would think he was an S5 slave still.

"Not anymore. I just got back. I am as free as you are now."

Jason grinned and looked at the briefs pointedly. Joshua looked back with a frown, and added defensively: "Actually, your own shorts are not very long."

"Touché," Jason said, with a grin, and then asked, "Do you know the way to the City Racing Club? I want to register for the Solstice Games."

Jason indicated the poster as he spoke. He had been photographed for that, he explained to Joshua, but the photographer had come to the school a few weeks ago, and so he had not actually been to the racing club before.

"Sure, I'm going there now. I'll take you," Joshua said. "You're going to sign up for the race?"

"Yep," Jason nodded, "I need the money bad."

"Bad enough to risk slavery if you lose?" Joshua asked.

"Bad enough and worse. I need to buy back my little brother."

Joshua walked with Jason, and on the way they talked together. Jason told Joshua all about his brother, called Uni now, although he had been James before he had been made an S0 slave.

"An S0 slave?" Joshua had asked, incredulous. "What did he do? Kill someone?"

The look on Jason's face made Joshua want to call back the words, but he had said them already.

"Oh man, he did kill someone?"

"Not exactly," Jason said, his distress evident. He told Joshua how the two of them had found the keys to their father's gun cabinet and fetched the gun one day when their father was out. They had taken it out into the forest that bordered the district. They had not meant any harm. They just wanted to try it out, shoot some bottles and cans, maybe take a pot shot at a rabbit.

They had not seen the old man, out picking mushrooms. They had not seen him until the shot that was met with a scream of agony. They had run to help, but the shot had hit the man square in the chest. Jason had tried to staunch the flow of blood and James had run for help, but by the time the medics had arrived, they found Jason sitting by a corpse, covered in blood.

Joshua listened to the whole tale, horrified. He noticed that Jason did not actually say who fired the killing shot, but it was James who was blamed for it.

"James owned up to it," was how Jason put it. It was James who claimed to have killed the man, because he was so young that everyone was sure he would not be held fully responsible for his actions. No one would make an S0 slave of a nine year old boy, would they?

Surely he would get an S3 term instead.

They were wrong though. James was convicted of murder, and given an S0 sentence. Jason choked up as he told Joshua about it.

"So now they nullified him and he belongs to some sadistic man who drilled holes in his head and gave him metal spikes, and then called him Uni because he was like a unicorn," Jason said. He was crying now, and Joshua walked uncomfortably beside him. That was a terrible story.

"I have to win, don't you see? I have to get the money I need to buy him. I can't give him his cock and balls back. I can't even set him free. But if I owned him, then at least no one would drill his head anymore."

Joshua nodded. He was thoughtful for a long time. At last he patted Jason on the back.

"You have to win. I will shout for you to win!" he said. Jason smiled weakly and the boys walked on.

"My own slave is at the club," Joshua said after a while. "Andy. He is an S1. He volunteered…"

"Oh, I remember him," Jason said. "Not many slaves choose that. He is pretty special."

"Yes, he is," Joshua agreed. "Can you tell me about it?"

So Joshua told Jason all about him and Andy, and why he was only wearing briefs now in honour of Andy. As he walked and told his story, an idea was forming in his mind. The races were a way to make a lot of money. Yes, there was risk, but the reward for winning was large, and Dad needed a lot of money to pay of the loans.

Joshua knew that each race only had one free boy. There was no risk he would have to race Jason and risk Jason's chance to save his brother, so why shouldn't he put his name down too? If Jason could win the race to save his brother then he could win to save Andy and his father.

Yes there was a risk. Yes, if he came last he would be facing years of S4 slavery and the loss of any chance of future citizenship, but Joshua knew that was unlikely. He had trained Andy, but he had also trained with Andy. He had run everywhere that Andy ran. He ran to school when they missed the bus. He ran cross country and around the town. He had even been running in summer school. He was as fit as any slave he knew. His chances were excellent.

Yes, he thought, he would put his name down for a race. One win would surely bring in all the money he needed.

***

Andy was chained at the Club entrance and ordered to not move. His leg stiffened, his bladder was ready to burst. Passers by were looking and pointing, giggling at his obvious discomfort.

"Joshua," he thought "If ever I needed you, I need you right now!!!"

***

"Will you let me have Andy back?" Joshua asked Mr Miller, the race club owner.

"Sorry, who?" Mr Miller asked, and then was distracted by something and shouted some instructions to a couple of slaves who were carrying what looked like a rolled up carpet.

"Watch what you are doing with that. Take it through to the main hall, quick." Joshua waited until he had Mr Miller's attention before answering him. "Andy, my S1 slave…"

"Oh, you mean Anker? Are you Joshua? They let you out of summer school already?" Mr Miller asked with a grin on his face.

"Yes, I just got out today and found that Dad leased you my slave, but I need him back…"

"Sorry, no can do. We invested in his training, so now we have to get a return on the investment. I'm sure you understand, kid."

Joshua shook his head. He did not understand. "I trained him to run already. It is my training…"

"You made a reasonable start kid," Miller said, interrupting him again. "But there is much more to training a race slave than you could know."

"I need him back, now. Can I just go see him."

"No, that's not a good idea," Miller replied. "And you can't have him back. He is mine until the end of the season. I am thinking I will exercise the option to hold onto him for longer. He is a good little runner."

Joshua felt the bottom falling out of his world, and he shook his head. "No, you can't. He is mine. You have to let me have him back."

"Oh but I can. The contract your father signed is quite clear," Mr Miller said, his voice hard.

"But he is my slave…"

"That is a matter of opinion. He is mortgaged. He is the collateral on your father's loan, yes? So really, I own him. I own the company here so I own the loan, and until the loan is paid off, he is my slave."

"That's not fair," Joshua felt hot anger burning inside him. "Life is not fair."

"What if I pay off the loan?" Joshua asked. "Can I take him then?"

"That loan is steep, kid. Did you know your father borrowed against him to pay for that other S0 slave too? The one he gave to the school."

Joshua hadn't known, but he was not surprised. "If I pay it off you will let me take him?"

"No, not until I am done with him.

"But why not?" Joshua begged. "Because he will make me a lot of money, that is why not. Because he will be racing all season and I invested a lot in that."

"How much?" Joshua asked and Mr Miller looked at him curiously.

"Huh?"

"How much will he make you?"

"Hard to say," Mr Miller said, and he had a thoughtful smile.

"If I pay what he would earn you, would you let me have him back?"

"Pay what he would earn me, and pay off the loan, plus the early redemption penalty, sure," Miller said, still looking thoughtful. "But where will you get that much money?"

"Enter me for the Solstice games," Joshua said.

"Ah," Miller replied with a smile. "Well, that is brave of you. I will go get the forms."

Chapter 5
Sommersonnenwende Spiele – Race Day 1

So we finally get to the race day of the solstice games. The race day will be presented in three parts. Part one, below, is Calvin and Hobie's race. And um… maybe someone else we know.

Calvin

Calvin approached the line nervously. The announcer was already bellowing information over the tannoy, and he could see Hobie also at the line, although the free boy they were racing had not emerged yet. No one had even told him who the free boy would be yet, but what they did know now was the type of race.

There were various races run on race day. Some were sprints or middle distance runs and some were over very long distances. Some races had jumps and hurdles, others ran cross country. Every variety was catered for, and the boys had known that they were training for a middle distance run, but what they had not appreciated that they would be running the chase.

In the chase the free boy runner would start behind the slaves, and over the course of a kilometre he would attempt to chase them down on the track. He just had to tag or pass a slave, and that slave would be eliminated. If he could catch neither slave, he would lose.

While the race added interest, it gave the slaves an inherent advantage. They would be given a headstart of fifteen seconds. Calvin was nervous still, but more hopeful now that he might actually win the race, and would at least come second. He just had to be second across the line, or the second slave eliminated. It felt like better odds.

"… And what a great line up of races we have for you today," the announcer was saying. "A whole afternoon of top quality entertainment, broadcast live all over the Five Districts. Get your bets in, as the first chase is about to start. Will both slaves complete the race? If not, who will be eliminated first?"

Calvin shivered and walked up beside Hobie, who was stretching and limbering up.

"Hobie," he said, acknowledging the boy. "Or whatever you are called now." "It's still Hobie," Hobie replied. "Ella made that my official slave name."

"Ella?" Calvin asked. He had been kept working hard in and around the school, clearing the grounds, sanding down and varnishing desks, cleaning, tidying, re-arranging and doing whatever else he was instructed. There had been no time for contact with the outside world, and he had not found out who had bought Hobie. He looked at his former friend and frowned. It could not be, could it?

Hobie looked at Calvin and smiled. The smile was cold, and Calvin could tell that the boy bore a grudge. Well, he felt the same. Everything was Hobie's stupid fault. If he had not tried that stupid practical joke, they would both be in the stands right now, watching the games, drinking soda and betting their pocket money on the winners.

"Hadn't you heard?" Hobie asked. "Ella bought me for one thousand talers because she loves me so much."

"Nuh huh," Calvin shook his head. Now he knew Hobie was lying. There was no way anyone would pay a thousand talers for him.

"It's true, and we have had sex and everything. She says you were always a dork." Calvin pointed at Hobie's cock cage, and said, "you had sex with that on?"

"Maybe I got it off."

"Maybe you are full of shit."

Hobie grinned and smiled an annoying but knowing smile.

"Give a big hand for today's chaser," the announcer said, "recently released from S5 slavery, the child prodigy behind the underground slave racing racket that was broken up last month, I give you… Joshua Jefferson."

There were shouts and whoops and applause as Joshua came out onto the track, and approached the start line where Calvin and Hobie were waiting. The boys looked at Joshua approaching and then at each other.

"Joshua?" Calvin asked.

"We are sunk," Hobie replied.

They knew who Joshua was. He lived nearby, and they had seen him running with his slave boy, Andy. Running – always running.

Not only was Joshua going to be fast for his age, but he was also in the next school up. How old was he? Maybe 14? He was small for his age, so maybe the crowd would not appreciate the age difference, but he was definitely older than Calvin and Hobie, and his small size hid plenty of wiry muscles.

This was shrewd of the organisers. Casual punters would not appreciate Joshua's advantages. They would see a boy of the same size as Calvin and Hobie and bet on a slave win, but the boys knew Joshua had an advantage in age as well as being a great runner.

"It's a fix," Hobie growled. "They never intended either of us win."

Calvin agreed, although he did not come out and say it. They had pretty much just handed Joshua the winnings.

"And racing against him, we have two of the most notorious child criminals this year. Please show us what you think of the boy who murdered his vice principal, and the boy who put him up to it, Calvin and Hobie."

The applause now were replaced by boos and jeers, and a camera on a cable zoomed over to where it could give a close up on the boys. Calvin saw his face on the big screen, and then saw the camera zoom out enough to show his pink castration scars. He winced, and not just because the scars still hurt a bit.

The booing and jeering grew louder and then people began to stamp their feet.

The starter official lined the boys up, and Calvin looked out at the long track ahead of him.

"On your marks," the starter said, and the slave boys took their positions. Calvin looked over his shoulder at where Joshua stood, and took in again the fact that Joshua was not that much taller than they were. Maybe he stood a hope of winning. In any case, he just needed to beat Hobie, and he thought he was probably fitter than his former friend. There were more tactics in a chase, of course. In a straight running race you could just keep pace with another runner, remain a little behind them, and then run them down on a final sprint. In a chase, you had to be mindful of the chaser too. You had to know if the chaser was closing on you, and be in a position to move out in front if necessary. The one thing you did not want was to be the first runner caught.

Did Hobie understand all that? Probably he did, but Calvin still thought he had an edge on his former friend. Calvin had been the more sporty of the two of them. It was Calvin who had been into his diving and other sports. Calvin thought he probably had the better instinctive grasp of racing too.

"Set," the starter said and the boys crouched, ready to go.

There was a crack of the starting pistol and the boys began to move, but even as they did so, the gun sounded again. False start.

Calvin glanced up at the screen to see who had triggered the false start and was astonished to see a big red cross light up beside his name.

"It seems Calvin the killer was too eager," the announcer said, and slow motion images zoomed in on Calvin, moving ahead of the pistol. More booing from the crowd. "So we set up again. One more false start will lead to disqualification, of course."

Calvin swallowed nervously and went back to the starting blocks. He could not afford a disqualification. That would be an instant loss.

"On your marks, set…"

Calvin set and held deadly still.

The gun fired and this time Calvin waited until Hobie moved before moving himself. It was a terrible start, but the race was not a sprint. He could recover.

The problem was that he was now chasing Hobie as they entered the curve. He had to stay where he was, and bide his time. He could move out and past Hobie, of course, but that would be harder work on the curve, a longer path, and it was too early to be making a break.

Running made Calvin's crotch ache. He had been castrated for a full month now, but the wound still ached a lot, and now it was much worse than usual, as he stretched himself more than he had for the whole month.

All to soon came the pistol crack that saw Joshua surging from his mark. Calvin could see the big stadium screen, just to his left and ahead, and there was a close up of the chaser. Joshua looked fast. Fast enough that Calvin looked over his shoulder, despite knowing he should not do so. Joshua seemed to have started at full sprint, and was already closing the gap alarmingly quickly.

Calvin was not surprised, although he was angry. What hope did he ever have against Joshua? But Hobie's pace was too slow. They need to run faster or Joshua would close up the gap and finish this race on the very first lap.

Calvin remained on Hobie's tail a moment longer, but now they were on the straight he moved out and dug in. Hobie seemed to be labouring. He heard the crowd roaring, and yelling, screaming in anticipation. He was aware of people in the stands waving and shouting.

Calvin ignored the tearing pain between his legs. He just had to beat Hobie. That could not be so hard. He lengthened his stride and came alongside Ella's new slave boy. Hobie glanced over his shoulder and dug in too. Calvin thought he heard a grunt of effort from the other boy, but he was not passing him. The boys were running neck and neck still as they entered the next curve, forcing Calvin to take the longer path. Both boy's were panting although Calvin thought Hobie was panting harder.

Joshua was closing down on them, but their increased pace had held him off a little longer. Still, the crowd were anticipating the imminent capture. Calvin gasped and pushed himself, against the pain, to find new reserves of speed. The curve was nearly done again, the straight beckoned. Calvin knew that he just had the edge on Hobie now. Once he reached the straight he would pull ahead.

"I'm… gonna… beat you," he gasped triumphantly as he entered the straight, but as he did so, Hobie's arm flailed out, colliding with Calvin.

Calvin stumbled badly but did not fall. He shouted in anger. Hobie did not wait up, and Calvin was behind again.

There were shouts, more jeers from the stands. The crowd had not liked that – or had they? They were baying, like hounds scenting blood.

Hobie was not going to get away with that. Once again, fuelled by the adrenalin of terror, knowing Joshua was mere paces behind now, he closed down on the flagging form of Hobie. As he approached, Hobie tried the same thing, but Calvin was ready. He dodged, and moved ahead of Hobie.

There was a yell of despair, but then Hobie crashed right into Calvin from behind and a hand clawed at Calvin's crotch, making him scream with agony.

Both boys lost balance and fell, but Hobie had grabbed Calvin's collar as he went down. He yanked hard on it, transferring Calvin's momentum to himself, throwing himself forward so he rolled over the top of Calvin's head, still holding the collar so that Calvin fell badly and painfully, squealing in pain and anger.

Joshua ran them both down in seconds. The crowd bayed and hissed, and Calvin lay on the ground, writhing in pain, and hysterical with anger.

"Joshua wins," the announcer shouted and the crowd roared. With both slaves caught, Joshua did not even have to complete the distance.

"Hobie comes second, following that remarkable and desperate move, and Calvin the murderer loses," the announcer was saying, but Calvin had picked himself up and held his arms out, expressing his outrage at an official on the line.

"He cheated!" he shouted.

"I didn't notice," the official said, with a wink.

Hobie was on the ground, gasping for breath. Calvin went over to him.

"You cheated. They will disqualify you," he said.

"Why?" Hobie asked. "You are just an S0 slave. You can't cheat against an S0 you know."

An official grabbed Calvin and started to steer him away, and Calvin struggled and shrieked.

"No fair," he shouted. "It's not fair. He cheated."

Another official came to assist the first and soon they had Calvin by the punishment frame in the centre of the field. He was struggling, kicking, shouting in outrage and despair, but no one seemed to care. People just laughed at the commotion he was making.

"So who saw that little drama coming?" the announcer asked. "Hobie will be one to watch if he competes again. Meanwhile Calvin, like all our losers today, will not compete ever again. One loss is all you are allowed, Calvin."

More boos and laughter, as Calvin struggled, sobbing, screaming as loud as he could that Hobie should be disqualified.

"So after the very first race it is time to vote for the first punishment," the announcer was saying. "Please use the voting app to pick Calvin's body modification. Let's make it one for him to remember this moment well, shall we?"

Laughter and jeers echoed around the crowd.

"No," Calvin screamed, struggling at the restraints he had been fastened into. He knew full well what this was all about. He had voted just last year for the punishment of an S1 slave in just this position. He knew how the crowd would be feeling, collectively holding his fate in their hands. He knew how there was betting even on this outcome. He knew how it felt to see the punishment flashed up and then enacted for all to see, and televised and recorded for posterity. A camera panned in on his outraged face, and was displayed on the big screen.

Calvin knew all this but he raged against it. This could not be happening. Damn Hobie. It was always Hobie. Hobie had ruined his life and now Hobie had cheated on him again. He would get Hobie for this. One way or another, he would make Hobie pay!

"And… time's up. Let's see what the voters have chosen for you Calvin," the announcer was saying. "Will you get away with a nice little tattoo today? Or will you be leaving all your limbs behind and crawling home on your belly as a fuckworm? Who can say? Fingers crossed, Calvin… fingers crossed that you still have fingers later today. Will the audience will have mercy on you? Will they show compassion on the boy who would kill his own teacher? because if they won't, no one else will.

"Calvin, your modification will be…" a drum rolled and the stadium hushed.

Calvin screamed his rage and terror, heard by everyone now that they had fallen quiter. There was a terribly long pause. He wept and shook his head, moaning softly. Please… please don't let it be a fuckworm, he was saying to himself.

"Its a cuntboy," the announcer shouted, making it sound like a great prize, and the roar of approval from the crowd suggested that they agreed.

Calvin's eyes went wide and he kicked and struggled more.

"No," he whispered, and then shouted "no!"

A slave vet was already approaching, scalpel in hand. The attendants fastened Calvin's restraints tighter so that the boy could hardly move. His hip and pelvis were steady now, as the vet leaned over and a camera man moved in close, the camera pointing at Calvin's crotch.

"An excellent choice for this murderer," the announcer was saying. Calvin was shaking his head and sobbing.

"Please don't" he cried. The vet just smiled and placed the tip of the scalpel at the top of Calvin's castration scars.

"First we have to cut out the packing we inserted after the slave's castration," the vet said, beginning a running commentary that he would maintain throughout the operation he was about to begin, that would transform Calvin's crotch into a cunt.

The knife bit into Calvin's flesh, and the boy let out a long howl of pain and despair. The crowd roared again, as Calvin's back arched and he screamed from rage and torment.

Chapter 6
Sommersonnenwende Spiele – Race Day 2

The second part of the Solstice Games races. Today's chapter is a joint effort between myself and Smallandy. Be warned, the story has strong themes. That is the nature of the Five Districts though.

As always, comments are very welcome.

Joshua

As Calvin screamed and writhed, and the vet began what would be a long surgery, the cameras cut away to the next event. The whole operation would be filmed, of course, and highlights would be shown on catch up TV. The full length recording would also be sold as a training aid, but after the initial screams, and the close ups of Calvin's desperate, tearful begging for mercy, the primary coverage moved on. That was the way of live TV.

Joshua was glad when the big screens cut away to something else. It had been a bitter sweet moment to record his fairly easy chase win, when that was the fate of the race loser. He felt bad for Calvin, even if he was just an S0 slave who had murdered a teacher. He had known the boy when he was free, and although Calvin was always a bit of a dork, and far too self absorbed, Joshua had always kind of liked him.

It had been a shock to hear about the murder and his conviction, and a bigger shock to find he would be racing in the same race. Seeing what was being done now made Joshua cringe. The only good thing was that Calvin had avoided the worst of modifications. Fuckworms were pretty useless slaves, but popular with some men. They did not live much of a life, locked away in a whorehouse, usually kept in a pit, and eating off the floor which was always slick with their own mess. That would have been worse for Calvin – although as a cuntboy, a whorehouse was his most likely next destination too.

"So how much did you win?" Mr Miller asked, joining Joshua on the track side. "500 talers," Joshua replied, although he was pretty sure that Miller must have known that already.

"Not really enough for what you need, is it?"

It wasn't. He needed another thousand talers to pay off Andy's loan plus the redemption penalty, and to buy out the lease agreement with compensation for Miller. That was a lot of money still. A stupidly large amount of money for one slave, but that slave was Andy, which made him worth it.

"You put me in for the first race," Joshua replied. "It was against easy runners, but it pays badly."

Miller nodded.

"Yes, that I did. But I thought you would want to start easy. Build up some confidence. I entered you for another race, did you see? That one has an 800 taler prize."

Joshua had indeed seen. If he won that, he would have almost as much money as he needed. He was still a little short, but he thought he could earn the last 200 some other way, or perhaps borrow it from someone else, with Andy as collateral. If he won the second race he would have just about enough, he thought. It would be hard, but it would be enough.

"You will still be a little short, yes?" Mr Miller asked, as though reading his mind.

"I will manage," Joshua replied. "If I win that race too, I can buy back Andy."

Joshua spoke confidently but he did not feel confident. The amount of money he needed was huge. He did not really know how he would go about financing the 200 talers he would still need.

"I daresay you will. But maybe I can make things easier for you?"

Joshua's interest was piqued. Mr Miller held all the debt that Joshua owed to get full and complete title to Andy once more. Was the man offering to reduce the price?

That would be very welcome, he thought.

"How about we add a wager to this race? You have seen who you will be running against. Good slaves, both of them. They are fast, and the S4 slave is taller than you. You will find it harder to win this race, but I think you can do it. I know you are a good runner. I know you did not even have to push yourself just now. I think you stand a very real chance of winning this race, no?"

Joshua nodded. Everything Miller had said was true. Yes, this race would be harder, but yes, he thought he could win it. He was pretty sure he could beat the permanent slave who was running.

Prancer was livestock – an S0 slave who regularly carried his master to school and was used to running, but Joshua had seen him run, and he knew he could run faster.

The S4 slave would be harder, but not impossible. Joshua knew his chances of winning were as good as he had any right to expect. He nodded to Miller.

"So how about we up the stakes a little? I do enjoy a little wager, and anyway I feel sorry for you," Miller said, looking Joshua in the eye. "I was really very impressed with your underground slave racing scheme. You even managed to dent our profits here, you know? You were that popular. So sad that it was closed down, but I thought to myself, here is a young man who is after my own heart, so why shouldn't he have his racing slave back?"

Joshua nodded, feeling a warm glow of pride at the man's words. He had been noticed by the race club owner? He had not realised that.

"So my offer is this. If you win, I will release Anker immediately from the lease contract. You will have him back today. I will even waive the early repayment penalty on the loan. You will still have to pay the loan itself, but without the other costs, you will have your slave and about 400 talers to bank. You could pay down the rest of your father's debts, or invest that in setting your slave up in a legitimate racing enterprise.

"How does that sound?" Mr Miller asked, a kindly smile on his face.

"Wow," Joshua said, considering. That really was a very generous offer. Joshua was a little cautious though. What was the downside of this bet? "Thank you… but what do I have to bet? I am not betting Andy."

"If you come second we are all square. There is no winner, no loser," Miller said and Joshua nodded.

Miller continued: "But if you come last… well as we know, a free boy coming last in these races becomes an S4 slave, yes? And if that happened, you would be sold somewhere, probably far away, and you might never see your slave again. In fact, you can count on it. I am sponsoring this race so you will be my S4 slave if you lose. I will certainly sell you in one of the other districts. Even if you saw Anker, he would not be your slave anymore. That would be truly terrible for you, yes?"

Joshua nodded again, with a frown forming on his face. Miller had not needed to add the bit about being sold elsewhere.

"So really what I am offering you now is for your own benefit. Call it an insurance policy, because I think so highly of you and only want what is the best for you," Miller went on, and Joshua's frown deepened. "For your side of the bet, you will sign a document before the race that states that, in the event you are made an S4 slave, you willingly choose S1 slavery, just like Andy did for you."

"No," Joshua whispered, a shiver running up his spine at the very thought of what that would mean.

"Now hear me out," Miller said, his voice taking on a syrupy sweet quality. "If you would sign that document, you will name your desire to serve me as your master, and that your slave, Anker, continue indefinitely in my service too. Slave wishes are not binding in law, of course, but there is the long established convention that a master agrees to them when a slave seals his wishes with the greatest of sacrifices.

"I know it sounds harsh, but that is the way it has to be. Only if you agree to permanent slavery, and the um… cost involved, can your wishes be respected. I promise to act on those wishes. I will keep you and Anker together and I will retain Anker's services. You would not be free but you would still have each other. I would even stable you together.

"In the event we must, unfortunately, act such a terrible document, it would give you the assurance that you will not be torn apart from your slave and sent away where you will never see him again."

Joshua considered the bargain. If he won, he would have Andy today, and his father could be debt free too. The desire for that tugged at Joshua, so that even coming second would seem like an unbearable loss, but only if he came last would the result be terrible.

It was a risk, but again, Joshua told himself, he had seen Prancer run. He could beat Prancer. He did not think he would come last. He mused for some time, before Mr Miller spoke again.

"So what do you think?"

Joshua looked up at the race club owner, whose smile seemed so genuine. The man really was giving him an excellent chance. Miller must know too that he could beat Prancer. Miller knew that the contract would never need to be enacted.

The club owner was not so bad really. Joshua realised that the man truly respected him. He knew Joshua would not lose, and he just had to make things sound tough so that no one would think he had gone soft when he let Joshua off so much of the debt.

Joshua nodded and gave the man a tight smile back.

"Let's do it," he said, and they began drafting up the agreement.

"You will want to see Anker now, of course," Miller said, and Joshua nodded eagerly. There was a full programme of racing and other entertainment and there was over an hour before Joshua had to run again. Miller had already explained that he had left that gap to give Joshua plenty of recovery time between races.

Miller led Joshua off the event field through the competitor's exit and into the stables. Joshua smarted to see Andy kept stabled with other livestock, but he understood that this was what was expected now. Andy had given so much for him, he realised. His freedom, his cock and balls, yes, but also his pride, and any other comfort an S4 slave might still have.

His slave looked up as the door opened, and as soon as Joshua walked into the room he ran to Joshua, and threw himself into an embrace. He could not speak, because of a bit in his mouth, but he hugged and held his master whom he loved more than anyone in the world.

Joshua held him, and kissed him and combed through his short slave hair with his fingers.

"Andy, I missed you so much," he said, kissing him again and again.

"I'll take the bit off," Miller said, placing a reassuring hand on Joshua's shoulder. "Then I'll leave you to it. I expect you would like some privacy."

Joshua smiled to Mr Miller. The race club owner was really not so bad, he thought.

The man removed Andy's bit, and the slave stood obediently, head bowed, not speaking yet. He knew not to speak to the race club owner until permitted, and no permission was given.

"Everything you might need is there," Mr Miller said, pointing to a tray on which there was a tube of lube, a bottle of water and a dish also containing water for the slave. There were also some slave biscuits.

"I don't have any food for you, sorry," he said to Joshua with a shrug, "but, er… I doubt that food is really on your mind."

Joshua fought down the urge to blush, having noticed the lube. Mr Miller saw his discomfort, and left them to it without another word.

The next hour was very special for both boys. Joshua, whose pent up desire had threatened to overwhelm him, immediately found his underpants were doing an impression of a tent, with a tent pole pushing out so hard that Andy sniggered. There was already a wet patch at the end of the pole from Joshua's precum.

Joshua could have come in seconds, but he was determined they both would enjoy their time together, so he kissed and hugged and talked as his fingers explored Andy's body, the smooth lines of his skin, the castration scars he had suffered. He tasted the flavour of his slave's nipples, and breathed in the scent of his neck.

He told Andy about the debt and his plan. He told him about the wager, and Andy was horrified.

"Don't worry, Andy," Joshua said, kissing him again and again. "Don't worry, it won't happen. I hope I can win. I so want to take you home with me today, but I can definitely come at least second. I can run faster than Prancer. We both know that."

Andy did know that, but he did not look totally reassured. Joshua understood that. He was nervous too. They both knew he could beat Prancer, but he had risked so much for Andy. Andy clearly understood that, and the slave responded to Joshua's words by lowering his underpants.

Joshua grinned as his stiffy came free, and Andy lay down, and presented himself submissively.

Andy had not been plugged today, so Joshua applied a liberal coating of lube to the boy's hole before holding onto his slave and then driving his wedge into the slave's door.

He felt Andy's moment of rigidity as he drove in, but the lube did its job, and in a moment he felt himself inside the slave's oh so tight little hole. Joshua knew Andy did not like being fucked. It hurt him, and he got no orgasm, but he also knew that Andy loved giving pleasure to Joshua. That thought was enough to drive him on to the most amazing moment of climax he had ever experienced as over a month of chastity and then waiting for his slave exploded into a moment of the most perfect union, and Joshua filled his slave so completely that it felt like there would be no further use for lube in there in a very long time.

Joshua lined up on the track, and looked at Prancer and the S4 slave boy, Martin. The S4 looked powerful, tall, and fast. He thought again that this would be a hard race to win.

Still, if he came second he would just have to find another way to win the money. Could he run a third time today? Probably better to wait for something else rather than risk that.

Joshua felt strangely calm. He had been so nervous earlier, but since being with Andy, his nerves had settled. He supposed that was a good thing. He smiled at Prancer, but the slave was in a bit and harness, so could not respond. He was livestock, after all.

They had finished operating on Calvin, but the boy was still there, on his frame, moaning. His crotch was packed with a bloody dressing now, and he was tossing his head back and forth, no doubt being driven half mad by the pain.

Prancer was looking at him, and Joshua understood why. Prancer was just livestock, but he was not stupid. He knew what awaited him if he came last. When he came last, Joshua realised. Prancer was going to join Calvin on one of those racks and face his own body modification shortly. No wonder he was nervous. Joshua felt a pang of guilt that he would be responsible for the punishment of two S0 slaves today. He told himself he was being stupid. They were S0 slaves. They deserved everything they got.

He told himself that, but somehow he had trouble making himself believe it. Joshua would have said something reassuring to Prance, but what could he say?

He was not going to take the slave's last place, after all.

Joshua sighed and then gave a yawn. He felt tired. It was not late yet, although he had been awake early in anticipation of the racing. Still, he should not be yawning just before the race. He shook his head, grinning at his own foolishness, and went to the starting position.

"In this race, we see the return of Joshua Jefferson, winner of today's first race, hoping to make it two for two. He has his work cut out for him as he faces Martin. Martin is an S4 slave who was originally on a ten year term, but had it reduced to five when he ran in last year's Solstice Games. He has been training hard, and is hoping to win again. As he has already served three years as a slave, a win today will see him immediately walking free, and a nice fat 800 taler prize will go to his owner.

"In the third lane, we have Prancer. Prancer was made an S0 slave a year and a half ago, and has been training up in the livestock stables when he is not serving his master. Prancer will be eager to avoid Calvin's fate of earlier today, or worse."

Joshua looked at Prancer who was jiggling nervously, and a boy came over and gave him a quick flick of a riding crop across his bare butt to settle him.

The starter indicated the boys step forward. "Marks," he said, and Joshua took his mark.

"Set," he continued and Joshua moved to the set position. Martin was like a taught spring next to him.

There was a crack of the starting pistol and all boys were away. Joshua thought he had made a good start, but clearly not, as he was immediately in second position. Not to worry though, he thought, lengthening his stride and pushing himself to keep up with Martin.

There were a series of hurdles to leap on this race, and Martin cleared the first one and was on to the second before Joshua reached the first. He knew as he stretched out his leg that he had mistimed it, and felt his foot crash into the hurdle. There was a sound like a long "oooh" from the crowd, as Joshua landed, stumbled and leapt again, hitting the next hurdle even harder. Somehow he remained on his feet, and managed to jump a third hurdle, knocking this one too. By the time he had jumped five hurdles, all five were on the floor, and Joshua had almost landed on his face on two of them. He was now solidly in last place. Prancer had knocked the last one down but was now ahead of him.

Joshua felt a cold finger of fear as he saw the gap he had to close now. He gritted his teeth and dug in, putting on as much speed as he dared. He ran hard, and the gap closed between him and Prancer, although Martin was so far ahead that he knew now that his chances of winning were close to nil.

Martin would have to trip over his own feet to lose now.

Joshua felt angry with himself. He had lost it on the hurdles. He had done worse on those than ever in training. He could not believe what a hash he had made of them, and now he saw he was actually in danger of losing the race. They were coming up to the home straight now, and Prancer was putting on a sprint. It was now or never, Joshua knew, and he sprinted too.

His lungs burned, his side hurt, and his legs felt like they were lead as Joshua chased down Prancer. He was faster than Prancer. He knew he was faster than Prancer, but it was like something inside was dragging him back. He could not find his reserves of speed. This could not be happening, he thought, when Prancer began to edge even further ahead of him.

Even without the mess he had made of the hurdles, Joshua wondered if he could have beaten Prancer, because the gap was growing bigger than ever. He could not find it within himself to catch the slave.

He ran, screaming his frustration and terror, as the livestock slave almost seemed to gallop to the line. It was too late. It was already too late, he saw. He was even farther behind than after the hurdles when Prancer crossed the line.

He had lost.

How could this have happened? He had lost!

Joshua crossed the line, and he could hear the whistling and jeering. He saw the words flash up on the screen. Winner: Martin! And then, there was a picture of him, and the words he had dreaded: Loser: Joshua Jefferson.

"There is no stopping Martin," the announcer was saying. "The slave wins his freedom today. And there he goes, walking up to his master who is ceremonially handing over some clothes, and unfastening his cock cage. Such a lovely sight.

"And here come the slave handlers, who will be replacing one S4 slave with another. Joshua Jefferson, at age 14, will find himself an S4 slave for the next eight years. The handlers will strip him now and… wait, I have just been passed a document…"

The announcer went quiet for a moment, and was clearly whispering to someone, but then he spoke again.

"Well, it seems that Joshua Jefferson had made a considerable wager on this race. I have just received confirmation that a slave will has been enacted and he will become an elective S1 permanent slave. He has requested to become the permanent property of Aaron Miller."

Joshua was kneeling, his head in his hands, as the announcer told the audience about his wager. The slave handlers reached him, and he did not resist as they pulled off his underpants. One of them fastened a collar around his neck, and Joshua felt the sudden uncomfortable constriction. He looked up then, in alarm.

"Don't worry, boy, you will get used to it," a handler said almost kindly. "Now will you walk over to the punishment racks, or will we drag you?"

Joshua looked at the racks, where Calvin remained, still sobbing and moaning.

He wanted to run away. He swallowed and shook his head.

"I'll walk," he said, standing up, trying to salvage some pride, despite now having been stripped naked in front of the whole of the Five Districts.

He walked over to the racks and was fastened into position.

"As an elective S1, Joshua will be given an anaesthetic before his operation. Sadly, the anaesthetic will do little to help with the pain of the brand though," the announcer explained and Joshua looked around in alarm, as a handler arrived with a glowing hot electric branding iron.

"Hold still," he said. "This will hurt quite a lot."

The brand bit into his butt and Joshua instantly knew that 'quite a lot' was quite an understatement. He let out a long howl of agony as the flesh of his butt crackled and vaporised under the brand. There was a smell like burning meat, a wisp of smoke and then the most terrible pain Joshua had felt in his life.

Even before he had finished screaming, a slave vet was injecting him with anaesthetic into his crotch. Joshua screamed and sobbed, both from the pain, and the realisation of what he had lost. How stupid of him. An hour ago he had fucked Andy, and it had been the most amazing sensation of his young life. In a few minutes time, he would lose the ability to ever feel that sensation ever again.

The big screen showed a close up of his father, head in hands, sobbing. Joshua looked at it, knowing that he was even now being declared legally dead. His dad had no further rights over him. He was Miller's property now.

Chapter 7
Sommersonnenwende Spiele – Race Day 3

Jason

Jason watched in consternation as a slave vet began to operate on Joshua. He was on the sidelines now, waiting for his own race to start. He had watched Joshua's race, and wished the boy luck. He had so wanted him to win. He knew about Andy, of course, and he had hoped against hope that Joshua would win back his slave.

Jason understood well the motivations that Joshua must have felt. He felt much the same about his own brother, Uni, they called him now, but to Jason his little brother would always be James.

He had to save James just as desperately as Joshua had wanted to save Andy. Indeed, more so, he thought.

He knew Joshua loved Andy. He was proving how much right now as he underwent the surgery in front of a howling and baying crowd. There was no doubt that Joshua loved Andy, but Jason did not just love James – James was his brother.

His brother who had suffered for James' own cowardice, he told himself. His brother who had taken all of the blame for the death of the old man, and who had been emasculated, enslaved, collared and pierced and had those terrible horns drilled into his skull.

Jason had seen Uni kneeling in front of his master earlier. Their eyes had met, and he had tried to smile, but the smile hid Jason's own inner terror that he might lose this race. He might lose, but he had to win. He had to do it for James.

James' master had seen the look and smiled, and right there, in the corridor, outside the athletes changing rooms of the stadium, he had stripped off his clothes, smiled an evil smile at Jason, and then grabbed James by one of his horns and thrust his engorged cock into the slave boy's mouth.

The man had laughed at the look on Jason's face, as James gagged and choked, and turned red, eyes wide with alarm, but his hands obediently massaging the man's butt as he did his duty for his master.

The man fucked his slave casually, and talking to Jason about the good turn out, and the running conditions and other ordinary stuff, as though choking his brother with his cock was something so trivial that it merited no more mention than eating a burger from a fast food stand.

Jason was enraged, his thoughts a turmoil of anger and dismay at what his brother was enduring. He saw the man pull on those horns to force the boy's head into position, and he cringed.

Jason remembered happier times, like the time they went to the beach together. James would play naked, because in those days he had made no connection with public nudity and slavery. It was just fun to run around with no clothes.

He remembered the giant pink flamingo they had played with. They took it out to sea and the wind caught it, and James had to hold on tight as Jason had kicked frantically to get the thing back to shore. That had been scary, but they laughed about it when they reached the shallow water once again. James had hugged him and he had told his brother he would never let anything bad happen to him.

They had posed for a photo after that. Jason still had the photo. Him with his arm around James, and the pink flamingo behind them.

"I will never let anything bad happen to you," was written on the back, and the photo was in a frame by James' bed. His bed that had been empty for months now.

Jason wiped a tear from his eye, and he did not know whether it was for Joshua, who was sobbing loudly as his manhood was cut away, or whether it was for him and James.

It was both, he told himself. It was for all the slaves, and all the people who lived in fear of slavery.

He mostly cried for James, he supposed. Poor, perfect James whose one mistake was to trust his big brother and to go out shooting with their father's gun.

He mostly cried for James but he felt terrible for Joshua too. Joshua whos hopes had been so high of reclaiming the prize slave that he loved so dearly.

The hope had been for nothing. The boy had royally messed up his run. He had never seen a worse bit of hurdling. It was a miracle he had finished the race at all.

Jason supposed it was down to nerves, but whatever the reason, the upshot was that Joshua had lost.

Losing was bad enough, but how had Joshua been suckered into making a wager like that? Jason had felt almost physically sick when he had heard that Joshua had actually signed a document requesting S1 slavery – just like his own slave had done for him.

That love between Andy and Joshua must be pretty special… but stupid too. Now look where that had got them.

Cameras zoomed in on Joshua as the vet began to cut away his balls, slitting open his scrotum, popping out the purplish nuggets, severing the cords and dropping them into a dish. Joshua was awake, and still moaning from the pain of his brand, but he seemed to have a detached curiosity now about what was happening to his balls.

The vet operated quickly, slicing away the scrotum, before cutting deep into the root of the penis. The member was removed and swaps were hurriedly pushed into the gap before it was hurriedly sutured and a spray of plasti-skin was applied.

There was a sweet spot for an operation like this, when shown on live TV. Take too long and people lost interest. The vet timed it perfectly, and was closing up just as the TV stations switched to a commercial break.

Jason watched it all, and shook his head. After what had happened to James, it was all too close to home for him. Poor Joshua, he thought. Poor, stupid Joshua.

Jason's own race was starting shortly. Like Joshua, he needed a lot of money. In his case, he wanted enough to buy James – or Uni as his master now called him – back. This race was worth 1000 talers, and that should be enough. However, the higher prize was there because this race was billed as something special. They had not told him who he would be running against, and he knew they had something up their sleeve.

There would be some nasty surprise, he knew, like they may run him against the fastest slave boys available, or maybe they would make him do hurdles too. It did not matter. Whatever they did to make the race harder, he was up for it.

"Our next race," the announcer was saying, "is something a little special. Here is our free boy runner, Jason," the announcer said and images showed up of Jason. They described his age, size and background, as they did for most racers, but then they started to tell the story about James, and the gun and how they went shooting in the woods and how James killed a man in cold blood, and was rightly made an S0 slave for life.

"Jason will run against Noah, an S3 slave looking to shorten his sentence," the announcer went on and described the S3 slave he would be racing against. Jason watched it all, and thought that Nat did not too frightening. He would be a good runner but not impossible to beat.

"And finally, the permanent slave that will compete in this race is…"

Jason looked up at the big screen, and there, suddenly, was a picture of his brother.

"Uni," the announcer said and people cheered and then laughed. They cut to a live feed of Uni, looking small and bewildered. People were jeering now and laughing. Uni was younger and much smaller than the other two. There was no hope he would come anywhere but in last place.

"So Jason's choice in this race is a stark one," the announcer went on. "He must win the race to win a cash prize, which he hopes to spend on buying his brother for himself. However, if he wins or comes second, his brother, the murderer now known as Uni, will almost certainly come last, and we all know what that means, yes?"

Again the crowd roared and jeered.

"Jason, your choice is simple. You can win the race and the money, and watch your brother face the public vote for a punishment modification, or you can come last. If you come last, you save your brother, but will, of course, be spending the next nine years as an S4 slave.

"What will Jason choose? Will he take the money and sacrifice his brother? Or will he throw the race and sacrifice himself? Just how honourable is Jason? We will soon see."

Jason stepped up to the line, and the starter got them to take their marks, set, and then the pistol cracked and Jason was running. He ran as hard as he could, his eyes streaming tears. He ran for the line, knowing that if he won, his brother might face a terrible mutilation. At the very least he would probably gain a new tattoo, but some of the modifications were too terrible to contemplate.

Jason tried not to think of these as he ran for the line. He ran as fast as he had ever run in his life. He was neck and neck with Nat, but he pulled away, throwing himself across the line and then falling to the ground, sobbing, knowing that James, Uni, his brother, was placed last.

He had won, but the victory was a bitter one, as he waited for the crowd to decide on Uni's punishment.

Uni, for his part, was carried over to the punishment frames and his hands and feet were locked into place. He did not kick or scream. He looked numb, defeated. Did he even know that Jason had won?

The restraints were fastened and the announcer spoke again, describing all the available body modifications, and then asking the crowd to vote. Jason sat on the track now, his breathing more normal but his heart thumping. Please don't let there be amputations, he thought. Please, no blinding. Please no!

"And the votes are in. Our spikey little nullo S0 slave is ready to receive his latest modifications, so let's see what you have voted for," the announcer said. "And the winner is…"

There was a drum roll and voices hushed, as the cameras zoomed in on Uni's face.

Uni's moth was tight with terror.

"Branding and Tattooing!" The announcer said, and at once attendants were walking towards Uni, one carrying the electric branding and tattooing equipment. They strapped him down and branded him first, forcing Jason to watch as Uni screamed in agony, receiving a loser's brand right across his chest. The tattooing would take a while, but to show how Uni would look after it was done, they first used marker pens to describe the tattoos on the boy's skin, marking him up with an embarrassing tattoo below his navel that mocked his lack of a penis.

The crowd roared with laughter as they saw. Jason put his head in his hands, as the needle gun was applied and Uni howled in pain as the needles penetrated his flesh repeatedly, inking him up with his new decorations.

Tattooing may not have been the worst option facing Uni, but the tattoo that was being inked into place now was the worst that Jason could have imagined, and he wept as he saw it permanently marking his brother's flesh, the small boy squealing with pain as they did so.

Jason approached Uni's owner, who was watching the branding with a satisfied expression and one hand thrust firmly into his trouser pocket.

"Mr Jonesford," he asked. The man turned and looked at him curiously. "Ah yes, Jason," he said. "I was expecting to see you."

"I want to buy Uni."

"Yes, of course you do. But why would you think he is for sale?"

"I have a thousand talers! That is more than enough."

"You could have ten thousand, but my answer is the same. I like my little Uni, and think I will keep him."

"But sir," Jason said, his voice trembling. "Please!" Jonesford sneered and shook his head.

"If I sell you this slave, you will spend money on him undoing all the beautiful modifications I gave him, yes?"

Jason could not deny that, but he glared back at the man who had so cruelly marked his brother.

"So, I think what I will do is this. I will not sell you this slave. Not at any price. But I will offer you a lease. You may lease him for 50… no let's say 100 talers a year. The lease agreement will give you automatic right of annual renewal provided you make prompt payment.

"You may benefit from his services, but he will remain my property. A condition of the lease is that you may not remove any of his modifications. My property must be kept in the condition I have created. His spikes, his brands, his piercings – all must remain, or else the lease agreement is forfeit and the slave will revert to me. How does that sound?"

That sounded like the worst deal ever. 100 talers a year for a lease on a slave was a huge amount, and the whole point of buying his brother had been to remove those cruel spikes. Jason looked at the man and despised him.

"Deal?" Jonesford asked. "Deal," Jason replied.

"Then you may take the slave."

The deal sucked. It was the worst deal ever, Jason thought – except maybe the one Joshua had made – but when he saw Uni's – James' face as they unfastened his restraints and said he was going home with a new master… well that look alone was worth a million talers.

To Be Continued