PZA: The Sons of Jan and Christopher Dantz 1-2

While I was sad and upset at the treatment I had received from my parents, so long as I had Jan, life could go on. Jan blamed himself for the rupture and I spent some weeks convincing him that it was, perhaps, for the best. After all, for the first nine years of my life, my birth parents allowed me to be an overindulged, spoiled, fat, sissy-boy. It was sheer luck that I was enslaved and that Mike bought me along with the others.

He didn't want me at first and I hated him. He and Marcus… our slave prefect… drove me mercilessly and it was almost six months until I had 'grown up' enough to be an asset to the family. Although Marcus was very strict with me, I came to love and admire him for the changes he had wrought in me and the leadership he showed us all even in the darkest times. No one was happier than I when Mike freed him and acknowledged him as his son. Today, I count him as a very good friend and continuing mentor.

So Jan and I have established our family, giving each other the love and support neither of us ever had before. Our business has prospered and we are content. But a little thought keeps nagging us.

Jasper

A young boy is rescued from a notorious boy brothel, but it will take years of love and understanding by his new parents for him to be 'normal'. But, can they succeed before it's too late?

Lal Singh, a worker; Jasper (7yo) his nephew; Darryl (9yo)
Mb bb – cons ref. to sex – ref. to tort & spank

I was in my office at the company one morning going over the latest plans for the new device we were designing for the government, when one of my group leaders rushed in. "Chris! Come quickly! Lal Singh has collapsed!"

Jumping up, I followed him down the corridor to the small lab I had set aside for our chip circuit genius. He was sprawled out on the floor surrounded by all his staff.

I knelt down beside young, lanky youth… little more than a teen-ager… just as he started to regain consciousness. He looked about puzzled, started to rise and sank down again. "What is it, Lal Singh? How do you feel?"

"Very weak, Sah," he answered. "But, please! I must get up! I have work to do. I'm all right."

"He told us he has been having terrible headaches, lately," ventured one of his team. "And periods of weakness," added another.

"Well, young man," replied Jan, "I'll be the one to decide who to worry about." Turning to me, he said, "I think we need to get this guy to hospital."

Lal Singh had literally been left on our doorstep four years previously by his father, Kandra Singh, a high political figure in his native India. The skinny seventeen-year-old… he looked about twelve… had been raised in a very conservative family and seemed very ill at ease.

As his father explained, he had never been outside the family compound before and had always been tutored. Or at least his tutors had attempted to teach him before giving up in despair. At age three he had taught himself to read and had been devouring books ever since. He knew more about most any subject you could name than most university scholars.

But his particular interest was electronics, especially the just budding area of circuit boards and chips. He had read… and annotated… all the standard texts. Just a short conversation with him convinced me that we were seeing a rare talent. As I told Jan that evening, "He's so much more advanced than I am, he makes me feel like a beginning school-boy again!" He was truly a savant!

His father's wish was that we provide him a facility where he could exercise his talent, perhaps for the benefit of our company. His son had grown far beyond his ability… or anyone else in all of India, for that matter… to provide suitable employment for Lal Singh where he could continue to grow and be happy. How had he come to choose us?

It turned out that Kandra Singh had been a business acquaintance of Mike, our now-deceased former slave master. He had contacted Marcus first and he had sent him on to us. Marcus would have vetted him thoroughly before even sending him, so this was an opportunity we could not afford to pass up.

By the end of that day, we had a new employee… one who would change our lives forever… and a very happy father. Unfortunately, Kandra Singh's flight home the next day was lost over the Indian Ocean. Indian politics being what they are, the rest of the Singh clan was swiftly eliminated by the opposition and all their lands and wealth confiscated. We now had both a brilliant new employee and a penniless, fatherless son to contend with.

The lad possessed no social skills whatever. Jan had to 'nanny' him for some months, but eventually we settled him in a small apartment near his work, engaged a housekeeper to clean and cook for him and gradually he learned how to fend for himself in this wider world that had been pretty much hidden from him. In many ways, he was like a younger brother to us, but always insisted on using the honorific 'Sah' when addressing us.

Our gamble had paid handsomely. In the first six months, he designed some of the basic chips that are widely in use today. Early, Jan and I had agreed we would concentrate on engineering and development, licensing our products to others to manufacture and sell. It was a decision that made good business sense and allowed me to pursue my first love, designing and inventing complex mechanical devices.

The hospital resident greeted us with a sad face. "I'm afraid your friend is not long for this world. Malignant melanoma! All through his body. If only he had come to us sooner."

The shock of those words would be with us for many months. Yes, his loss to our company was incalculable, but that hardly mattered to either of us. We were losing a friend, a unique talent whom we had watched blossom from a shy, introverted teen into a confident young man, supremely happy in his chosen profession.

We immediately moved him to hospice care. It was there we learned he had an older sister who had died in the throes of drug addiction. And a nephew named Jasper.

That mater-of-fact statement made my blood run cold! House-of-Boy-Joy was a notorious boy brothel located in a neighboring city. In its charter, it was listed as boy slave exchange, meaning it was licensed to buy and sell young slave boys. But it was, in fact, a brothel where its depraved customers could and did inflict pain and suffering on its young slaves without limitation. Even unto death!

Ownership of the enterprise was a closely guarded secret. It took some arduous prodding by a friend-of-a-friend-of-a-friend before we were able to discover its principal owner, a certain Lord Mingus. That would account for the hands-off treatment it received from the local authorities.

"Lal Singh, why didn't you tell us? We will buy your nephew and bring him to you. And then, we will see that he is raised with love and kindness, a worthy successor to his uncle."

At that statement, Lal Singh burst into tears. "Sahs must not be troubled by Lal Singh's family troubles. It is too much to ask!"

"Oh Sah! It would make me very grateful if I might just see him one time before I leave this world."

But we had made a promise and we would bring Jasper 'home'. We had both been thinking of adopting a child, and were now galvanized into action.

We had to first find the boy. He might not be at House-of-Boy-Joy any longer. The only way to find out was to go there and ask for him, hoping he had not been sold off. Neither Jan nor I had ever been to a boy-brothel before, but we grit our teeth and presented ourselves at the establishment.

Ushered into a plush waiting lounge, we were startled when a very little boy knelt in front of us and offered his well-used little ass to us. We were speechless until the manager came, pushed the tyke out of the way and asked us what kind of boy we would like.

Jan managed to compose himself enough to ask if we could have a boy named Jasper.

I decided to play our trump card. "A friend of Lord Mingus recommended him. I should hate to have to tell him we were refused."

At the mention of the owner… supposedly a closely held secret… the manager nearly fell over himself trying to accommodate us. Rushing us down the hall, he escorted us into a comfortable bedroom. "I will have Jasper brought to you at once," he said nervously and disappeared.

But the biggest shock was yet to come, when an attendant delivered a small, blanket-wrapped bundle to us and hastily withdrew. Unwrapping our 'boy' we were astounded to discover it was our little greeter. Hogtied, blindfolded and gagged!

"There must be some mistake! Lal Singh had said Jasper was seven, but this kid can't be more than about three." Jasper clung to Jan silently and watched with his luminous brown eyes as I scanned the papers that had come with him. "It says he is seven, but small for his age." We both sat there trying to make sense of what we were seeing.

Suddenly Jasper hopped down and presented his ass to me once more, steeling himself for the agony he was sure was coming. "No, Jasper," I tried to assure him, "we will not hurt you!"

I held out my arms and, after hesitating and making several false starts, he finally fled into them. His little heart was racing and I could tell he was terrified. He still had not spoken a word. A few tears formed in his eyes.

He cried for most of the hour we had engaged; long, deep, painful wracking sobs! When the attendant came to get him, he refused to let me go and had to be pried away. It took us quite some time to gather our wits and leave.

That night, in the comfort and safety of our shared bed, we could at last talk about what we had seen and experienced. "He's so traumatized, he can't even speak! There's no question; we've got to buy him. At any price!" This last statement from the CFO of our company?

The next morning, we immediately went to see our friend Marcus who was also the CEO of our company. After we had described what we had seen and felt, he said simply, "Go for it! The company will back you." And he invited us both into a warm embrace.

That afternoon, accompanied by our solicitor, we returned to the House-of-Boy-Joy. Jasper was once again at his greeting position. But his body was newly marked with numerous cane or whip marks.

Our solicitor managed to keep the manager from throwing us out, but he was livid. "Don't give me any of that bull-shit about being a friend of Lord Mingus," he snarled.

"Your charter," interrupted our solicitor, "requires you to sell any of your stock on hand to a legitimate buyer. My clients have money in hand and are of legal age. I think it rather unlikely Lord Mingus wishes to be hauled into court for a charter violation over one small, insignificant slave." Ah, that magic name again!

The manager named a ridiculous price, we countered with half that and finally came to an agreement. It was a huge sum… we would be years paying it back to the company… but we were determined.

While all of this was going on, the object of the discussion knelt in his ass-up position shaking like a leaf. If he had been frightened by our visit the day before, he was terrified at what was happening this day.

"We'll take him with us!" There was no way I was going to let 'our boy' spend one minute more in the hands of this monster.

Safe in the car once more, I felt something sticky. Investigating, I discovered blood, quite a bit of it, coming from Jasper's anus. "He's bleeding! We need to get him to hospital!"

The hours ticked slowly by until, at last, the pediatric surgeon, Dr. Hartley, came out to talk to us. "He's asleep. I repaired four separate tears in his colon! And treated the whip marks on his little body. But there's something I just don't understand."

"The wounds will heal, but it's this other condition that I don't understand. He's full of some sort of drug I've never seen before. I had our forensic pathologist check it out and it's something completely unknown. The result is that he has literally stopped growing. If they gave him this stuff since he was three that might account for him being so tiny and undeveloped. We know of no drug that can be used on humans for this purpose."

"I just don't know. There's no telling how he might react now that the drug has been withdrawn. We have no idea how addictive it might be. We'll have wait and see."

That afternoon we went to see Marcus to fill him in on what had happened and to deliver the notes that Jan and I had signed for the money the company had advanced us. We told him about the drug and its effect on Jasper. That the doctor had said it was completely unknown seemed to catch his interest.

He sighed and then began, "There is something I have never told any of the rest of you. It happened a short time before we moved into the 'castle'."

"One day a strange man came to see Father, bringing with him several young slaves. I sat in Father's lap while he talked to this man. The slaves looked to be about my age, but were actually almost twenty years old. He also had two other little boys that looked like toddlers but were actually teen-age. He told Father he had invented a drug that could suppress growth in a human."

"Father was planning to have Julian treated with this drug so he would remain his little boy-toy forever!"

"I knew Father really liked young boys and I had often wondered if he would continue to love me as I grew older. So, I decided I would remain a young boy, too. I begged him to let me take the drug, also. So I could be his little boy forever!"

"What happened? You did grow! Both of you. You must not have taken the drug after all!"

"Yes, at the last minute, Father decided he just could not do that to us. He paid the man and sent him away. We never saw him again and Father never told anyone else about it."

"It surely could be. And if it is, you are in luck. The man told us the drug had to be given continuously and if it was discontinued, the boy would start to grow again. I hope with all my heart he was right."

Three weeks went slowly by. Either Jan or I was with Jasper at all times, guiding him thru the throes of drug withdrawal. But, finally Dr. Hartley had good news for us. "HE'S GROWING AGAIN!"

After another week of confirming tests, we could take him home. Jasper had grown used to us but was still not speaking. He was fine in our arms but could only be out of our embrace for a short time without becoming frightened. So he went home in my arms while Jan drove.

The house was new and frightening to him, but he held on to me grimly. We had fixed up a room for him, but it would be some weeks before he felt comfortable in it. Waiting for him on his new bed was a giant teddy-bear which he promptly named Yogi-the-Bear. We would tuck him in each night and he would go to sleep hugging Yogi. But, by morning, boy and bear were usually in bed with Jan and me.

Gradually, he began to speak and soon became a little chatterbox. Visitors frightened him, but he accepted friends like Marcus and Timo without too much fuss. Now, if we could just get him to stop offering his little ass to everyone who came to call.

There was no doubt he was growing once more and as he did we tried to widen his world. One of us was still with him day and night and we took him on trips to the store, to the lake and park… all places growing boys like to visit and he gradually felt secure enough to even play with other kids we met. He was like an unfolding flower! "Dads! I love you very, very much!" was still his favorite greeting morning and night.

And before many other days went by, we filed the necessary court papers to free him and formally adopt him. That evening, Jasper Singh Dantz slept between his two fathers.

The first two years we had him tutored at first and second year level and found he was quite bright. His tutor was a bright young graduate student and he came to dearly love her. We had purposely chosen her so he would have some feminine influence his young life. But she would be leaving at the end of the school year.

We decided to face up to it and enroll him in primary school. By the end of that summer, he seemed like any other third year boy even though he was eleven years old. He was the right size physically and seemed ready to step out in a new adventure. Jan or I would walk him to school each day and one of us would always be there when he arrived home again.

On the appointed morning we both walked him to school and turned him over to his teacher who had been thoroughly briefed on his special status. It was love at first sight! He spotted several kids he had met at the park and quickly hugged us goodbye and skipped over to join them.

A little after three o'clock he came breathlessly dashing home. I knew we had 'turned a corner' when his first report was, "I made a friend today! We played together and ate our lunches together and went to the library together. His name is Darryl and we're going to be best friends!"

That night Yogi was his bed partner for the entire night and Jan and I shed tears of joy. It seemed impossible this was the same boy… the little bundle we had rescued two short years ago. Dare we hope he might have a 'normal' childhood from this point on?

Darryl was a frequent visitor at our house. They were truly inseparable. Jan quipped, "We seem to have acquired twins!" Jasper visited Darryl's home, too; but it was quite evident they were much more at home in our house. Once I had met Darryl's parents, I understood why.

Mrs. Innis was a mouse of a woman, completely dominated by her husband. He was a grim, somewhat nasty, older man who made it quite clear he DID NOT approve of our lifestyle. He traveled most of the time, so Darryl was, fortunately, free to continue his relationship with Jasper. Mrs. Innis didn't object; in fact I doubted if she ever had an independent thought in her life. Darryl was clearly starved for affection and Jan and I had lots of that to lavish on him.

However, one morning early in their fourth school year, I received a call from Mrs. Innis at my office.

"This is Marjorie Innis, Mr. Dantz and I have something rather distasteful to discuss with you."

"They were both in Darryl's room, stark naked, and they were… fondling each other!"

I should have seen that coming. And there was no doubt who the leader, the active partner, was; from his earlier experiences, Jasper knew more about sex… good and bad… than many adults.

When I didn't reply, she continued, "It was fortunate that Mr. Innis is away. If he had caught them, he would have caned both boys harshly. He would not tolerate such lewd conduct."

So those were healing welts and bruises I thought I saw on Darryl's back when we had taken him swimming! And Innis better never take a cane to my son unless he wanted a thorough drubbing from me… before I had him charged with child abuse. I managed to swallow my indignation.

She was silent for a moment. "I know the child experts say that sex play between children is normal, but I never want to see such behavior in my house again. If your son can't control his filthy urges, than Darryl will not be permitted to associate with him ever again."

Loss of his best friend would deal a serious blow to Jasper… and to Darryl, too… and I was desperate to prevent that. "Mrs. Innis, I'm sure if I were to talk to the two of them you would never see such behavior again." I was grasping at straws. "Just let's not get Mr. Innis upset about this," I pleaded.

"Very well, Mr. Dantz. I'll overlook it this time, but if I ever see such, such licentiousness again, well…" It was clear she didn't want confrontation with her husband any more than I did.

After she rang off, I called the boys' school and left a message for Jasper; he was to come directly home that afternoon and bring Darryl with him. Then I sat down and tried to think how I could approach them without frightening them completely.

"We have something very serious to discuss," I greeted them when they came dashing into the house. They both looked at me intently. "Darryl's mother observed the two of you doing something together that made her very upset. So much so, she almost told Mr. Innis."

Jasper stood studying his shoes. Eyes brimming with tears, he finally said, "I'm sorry, Dad. It was wrong! We'll never do it again, we promise."

"Yeah, and all I had to do is pull Darryl's briefs down and he got really, really hard, too."

"He's my very best friend, forever and ever! And I love it when he rubs my prick."

Now it got difficult. "What you were doing is not wrong." Two little boys looked up at me in surprise. "But you went about it the wrong way."

"Wanting to share each other's bodies is quite normal for boys your age. It's a way you have to express your love for each other. But it's not something you should do where someone else can see you, especially someone who might disapprove."

"Yeah! It feels sooooooo good. It makes me want to hug and kiss Jasper forever."

"Then I won't punish you. In fact I hope you'll continue to enjoy each other. But at the right time and place." They both looked at me with their mouths open.

"Here's the deal, guys. I want you to promise me that you'll only do it in Jasper's room in this house. Nowhere else!" They nodded. "You don't have to tell me or anyone else about it and Jan and I will respect your privacy when your door is closed. What you do is private and no business of anyone else." They were having a hard time believing what I was saying.

"Well, we enjoy rubbing each other and playing with each other," Jasper went on. "And Darryl likes me to lick his nipples, but is it OK if we… you know?"

"Is it OK to suck each other? Yes, if you both want it." I was sure their cums were still dry at this point; whether they would like sucking as much once they began to squirt. Well, that was their problem. "You may do anything you like so long as it won't cause you harm."

I could see them perhaps experimenting with sexual bondage before very long and I would have to talk to Jasper about that. I wanted them to do it safely. That was actually one of their favorites Jasper shared with me when I asked him about it. They loved to tie each other up and then tease the victim until he cummed. I had been wrong about Jasper cumming dry, too; there were sometimes stains on his sheets that demonstrated he was already liquid. And Darryl, too, perhaps.

Jasper screwed his nose up. "We won't ever do that! I know how much it hurts!" From the look on Darryl's face it was clear he was eager to learn more from his 'teacher'.

I gave each of them a hug and sent them on their way. As they left the room, I heard Darryl tell Jasper, "Your dad is one cool dude!" I had rarely been considered 'cool' before.

Darryl practically lived at our house. His father was away for months at a time and his mother was happy to get him out of her sight. So our 'foursome' took in all the places and adventures young boys like. It was like Jan and I were living our childhood… a childhood that had been sadly denied us. We even got to take Darryl with us when we went on vacation in the Lake District. Never had Jan and I, we agreed, felt so alive and full of energy.

But our euphoria evaporated suddenly one fall day when I stopped by the house at noontime to pick up some papers. Curled into a tight ball in a corner of his room was Jasper, crying his little heart out.

I ran to him and took him into my arms, "Jasper! What's wrong?" I knew it had to be something catastrophic to have affected him so.

He continued to sob into my chest for several minutes before he was able to gasp, "It's Darryl! He's gone! I'll never see him again!"

Before I could absorb what he had said, the phone rang. It was the headmaster of his school who was trying find Jasper. I assured him Jasper was with me and he was quite relieved.

From what little Jasper was able to choke out and what Headmaster told me, it had been a terrible scene.

Innis had charged into the school and had run to his son's classroom before any of the staff could stop him. Bursting into the classroom, he grabbed Darryl and shouted, "Come with me you filthy brat. We're going to North America, away from this den of depravity! And away from this spawn of Satan… he had pointed right at Jasper… who has corrupted you!" Then he stormed out, dragging Darryl with him, leaving a shocked teacher and classroom full of frightened and mostly crying children.

"I couldn't stay, so I came home!" Jasper sobbed. "I didn't even get to say goodbye!"

He continued to cry for another little while. Finally, he looked directly at me and asked, "Why did he take Darryl away?"

"I can only guess, son," I answered him. "I think he was afraid that Darryl loved you more than he loved him."

"Well, he does," sniffed my boy. "His father treats him like a slave and canes him all the time for the littlest thing. Why should he love him? You and Jan are better parents to him than his real parents ever were."

I considered that statement for a while. Could Jan and I have been partly at fault?

"I suspect Mrs. Innis told him about the time she observed you," I answered him. "He assumed you were forcing Darryl to be your sex partner."

"But I didn't force him!" he wailed. "We love each other and we always do it here, just like we promised. Some of the other boys do it at school, in the bogs [restrooms] but we never did."

"Jasper, I know this is very hard for you. And Jan and I will miss him terribly, too. But sometimes… life is cruel. I promise you that we'll go to North America and visit Darryl when you're a little older."

That wasn't much help, but it was the best I could do. At least I had sense enough to avoid the 'you'll-find-someone-else' cliché. But I never did get back to the office the rest of that day. When I told Jan what had happened, he was equally distraught. We both realized what a setback this was for Jasper.

So we both began spending more 'quality time' with Jasper. Jan had allowed me to do most of the 'fathering' until now, but he became much more active. Jasper had become rather withdrawn and we both had to struggle to prevent him from retrogressing. He still went to school and did well; was well liked by his mates, but a lot of the spark had gone out of him. We tried to interest him in football [soccer]; he played, but listlessly.

One Saturday morning Jan had taken him to the park while I worked on the final specs for a customer's job. About mid-morning there was an insistent ringing of our doorbell and I went to answer it. Jan has probably forgotten his keys.

That was shock enough, but then I asked, "What about the little boy who was with him?"

"I'm sorry, sir. We didn't find a little boy. And we searched the entire area for the perpetrator."

The twin blows… my lover's injury and our son's disappearance… staggered me. And I numbly allowed the officer to place me in his patrol car and drive me to hospital. On the way there, he put out an APB for Jasper.

The emergency physician was almost blunt when he told me, "Your partner has been shot several times and lost a lot of blood before someone found him. We don't think he'll make it, I'm sorry to tell you."

I sat in the darkened room with Jan, covered with tubes and sensors and watched his life slowly ebbing. How could this have happened? How can I lose my Jan? I realized, too, the sorrow our friends would have losing one of our extended family. While Jan had not been one of the original 'six', he had been the rock that we all… even Marcus… had clung too when things had been really rough at Mike's hands. I sat at his bedside, reached out and took his hand, now so cold.

And then, there was the matter of Jasper, snatched from us… obviously kidnapped. Was there no end of the sorrow and abuse that was to be heaped upon this little boy?

The readings on the monitors continued their downward trend and I awaited the inevitable. But suddenly he began to rally. I summoned the intern caring for him and we both gave thanks to the Almighty. There was a second bed in the room and I lay down and got a few minutes of troubled rest.

When I awoke, Jan was conscious. "I'm so sorry," he wept. "They took him and I couldn't stop them!"

"It's not your fault, lover," I replied. "And I promise you I will find him if it's the last thing I ever do. He'll be back in our arms again." At least I could now call Marcus and Timo and let them know what had happened.

But finding Jasper was easier said than done as the weeks crept by with no sign of our little boy.

A fire had leveled the House-of-Boy-Joy. No lives were lost, but several of the 'stock' were burned or injured. They, of course… over the angry objections of the manager… were taken to hospital. And the secret to the brothel's success was secret no longer. Every one of the boys had been dosed with the 'forever-young' drug. Several were over thirty years of age, but resembled young preteens. Dr. Hartley had hoped some of the drug might be salvaged, but their store was destroyed with everything else.

The police moved swiftly, but the managers managed to slip away leaving Lord Mingus to face the music. That snake denied any knowledge of wrong doing and almost succeeded in escaping legal consequences. Almost!

Probing, the wreckage of the building, the fire brigade discovered a tunnel leading away from the building, passing under several streets and terminating in the lower level of his Lordship's town house.

His eyes were swollen shut, his nose broken and his right arm fractured. His torturers had expertly worked over every square inch of his small body with hooked whips, destroying his genitals in the process. And, he had been given massive quantities of the drug.

When hospital staff finally allowed us to see him, he was almost unrecognizable. But he was our son and he was back with us.

Dr. Hartley headed the team that took care of him and slowly he began to recover from his awful injuries. Jan and I were with him day and night and could see some small progress over the next several weeks. But everyone's mind was filled with the same question, "What had the drug done to him, especially at the levels he had received?"

When his skin lacerations had mostly healed… due to the superhuman efforts of the entire medical staff… Dr. Hartley at last came to us. With tears in his eyes he told us, "Guys, it's not working. The drug has simply wasted him too much. It's only a matter of time until what we all feared from the start. His body will simply shut down. At the end he'll be in pain and there's not a damned thing I can give him to ease it."

"A hospital is a terrible place for a child and there's nothing more we can do for him here," replied the doctor. "Better he should come to the end in a place he loves and surrounded by those who love him most. I've seen your devotion to him and I admire and honor you for it. I just wish I had some hope for him."

At Marcus's urging, we chartered a helicopter which set the three of us gently down in front of our house. Jasper was determined to walk from the street into the house. He accepted our steadying hands but was exhausted by the time he made it to his room where Yogi-the-Bear waited to welcome him.

He struggled heroically thru the next three days, most of the time in Jan's or my arms. He had no illusions about what was coming in his short life, but he talked about all the loving and fun things we had done together, reliving them.

The fourth day he lay gasping and moaning in his bed, one of us on either side holding his cold hands. Watching this little boy… our son… slowly die was the most difficult time in my life. And Jan's, too.

Just before the end, he relaxed peacefully and whispered his last words, "I love you both so much."

While I was devastated by Jasper's death, Jan… still healing from his terrible wounds… nearly succumbed to despair.

We buried Jasper on the little hill above our former 'castle', beside two other boys who had met sad and untimely deaths. He would have liked the peace of that place and the view over the city it afforded. Surprisingly there was quite a crowd gathered there. Timo and Sebastian and, most importantly, Marcus who had come from the bedside of his young slave… Timo's son, Danny… who was recovering from a vicious flogging.

Although it was really my place to speak, I was still too upset by his death and Jan's near death to utter any kind of intelligent or appropriate remarks. Jan also demurred and, as he had so often done, Marcus came to our rescue.

"We are here today for a third time to sadly bid goodbye to a young boy who, like Nico and Julian who sleep here before him, was shamefully abandoned and even tortured by our society and those who should have cared for him. He lost his mother at an early age… to drugs and greed. Seized by an opportunist who saw him only as an implement for profit, he was routinely abused and plied with the poison that ultimately killed him."

"But providence finally smiled on him for a time and he was adopted by two young men who were determined to undo years of abuse and provide a life of joy and meaning for Jasper. Two fathers who, for the first time in his life, truly loved him. And, for the first time in his young life, Jasper… along with Jan and Chris… could dream of a happy and secure future. That evil thwarted their dreams was not due to their lack of commitment or their exhaustive efforts."

"But I tell you, you DID NOT fail Jasper. You brought him home! Home from pain and sorrow to the only place of love and caring he had ever known and to his family with whom he had enjoyed love and kindness for a few years. A place where he could, at the last, whisper, "Dads, I love you!' A place from which he could slip away to the next world knowing that he would be truly missed and never forgotten."

"So you have succeeded! Magnificently! At the cost of nearly your own lives and health, you brought love and happiness to this little boy. And, for that, you are two of what our Jewish friends would call 'Mensch'"

Marcus … who had started by being my cruel and heartless overseer and then became lifelong friend… had truly spoken for us and his tribute to both Jan and me would thrill us all our lives.

It would be many years before we were ready to share our lives with another young boy, but in time, we would receive Charlie… beautiful, loving and exciting Charlie… from his dying mother. That, however, is a tale for another day.

Charlie

After the death of their first son, Jan and Chris decide to adopt another young boy. Will they have better luck raising this boy?

Jan and Chris, former slaves, now successful businessmen; Charlie Smith (9yo); Kristi Smith, his mother; Marcus, slave-owner and friend of Jan and Chris; Donnie (12yo) and Sammy (11yo), slaves in training, Yoshi and Arico (13yo)
Mb bb – slave/cons mast oral

Prolog

I played with his nipples a bit… his skin was so soft and warm it felt like finest satin… pinching them always gave him an erection… before reaching between his legs and taking his hard little boy pole in my hand. He whimpered with pleasure as I began to stroke and he began to respond by forcing his prick hard into my hand. Reaching under his legs, I began to play with his little balls and I swear he started to purr like a kitten.

Shortly, he gave a strangled gasp as he approached his dry orgasm. As he reached his peak he let loose a mighty scream which I was sure would awaken the whole house.

But he was my son and such a coupling could never happen for real and I knew that.

But I could fantasize, couldn't I? If he had been a slave, yes. But he was a free boy with a love for my partner and me that was truly awesome and there was no way I would ever consider enslaving him just to feed my infantile urgings. We… my partner and I… had both been slaves in the past and we knew vividly the sorrow and pain of that condition.

Sunlight was streaming into our room and my lover was already up and brewing coffee.

A Visitor

Our company had prospered, but we had not… often retreating sadly into our own little world in our little house at day's end. We had considered moving, but to what end? Tonight was one of those times as we sat quietly reading. Suddenly, there was someone at the door and I went to see who was disturbing our 'funk'.

The college-age lad standing there looked somehow familiar, but I couldn't quite place him.

"Darryl!" Turning to my partner, I exclaimed, "Jan! It's Darryl!" For a few minutes, the three of us just stood in embrace as we greeted the boy who had been Jasper's best friend. Then I pulled him into the room and seated him beside me on the couch.

"I'm living with my uncle, now," he told us. "Father ran off with his secretary after we had been in North America about a year. That drove Mom 'round the bend', but I was lucky her brother took me in. He's strict, but treats me just like a son and I'm ever so grateful."

"He had to come here for a business meeting, and encouraged me to come along. Maybe I could find … Maybe we could … I guess I was being foolish."

He sighed before continuing, "I couldn't remember exactly where you lived, so Uncle had one of his friends at the newspaper look up the files. That was when I found out what happened to Jasper."

We could tell he was trying very hard not to cry but was losing the battle. I pulled him into my arms and told him, "Let it out, son. Just let it out."

He sobbed for several minutes, "Why? Why did they do that to him? He was such a neat kid! And we loved each other totally. The day Father dragged me out of class and away from him was the very worst day of my life!"

We, of course, had no answers for his questions and he knew that. Finally, he got himself under control again, and apologized, "I'm sorry for being such a wimp."

"You're not a wimp, Darryl," Jan told him. "You're a hero, brave and compassionate."

"I spent the afternoon with him, up on the hill," Darryl went on. "But then I just had to come and see you. The times I was with you were the happiest days of my life! You both had so much love that you gave me. That was something I almost never got at home. Your house was my real home and you three were my real family! To my birth family I was just a nucance, something to be endured. But I was sure you loved me almost as much as you did Jasper. I'm sad to learn you haven't adopted another boy."

"You should!" Darryl exclaimed. "You have so much to offer him! Love and a chance to grow into a real person. He could never replace Jasper, I know. But the three of you could honor Jasper's life! Promise me you will! And, if you think I might be worthy, I'd like to be his friend."

The Advertisement

Darryl had been right, of course. Jan and I had been 'hiding', afraid to make the commitment we both wanted… to bring love and a home to another deserving boy who had fallen on misfortune. All it would take was a little push…

The 'push' came one morning as Jan read the newspaper while finishing his coffee. "Chris! Look at this." And he held up a page containing an unusual advertisement.

Wanted: A good home for a good boy. Nine years old, good student, hard worker, polite, well-spoken, healthy. Mother terminally ill and wants to spare him enslavement. No reasonable offer refused.
Contact K. Smith at 00-23-51006.

"I think this is a message," he replied, reaching for the phone. The number was a local one which we soon discovered was a hospice where K. Smith would pass her short time with her son before she made that final journey. She was desperately trying to find a home for her "Charlie" before it was too late. If he was orphaned, he would be enslaved and she wanted to prevent that at all costs.

We both had work to do at the office that morning, but we vowed to go to see her that afternoon.

Visiting Kristy Smith in her room, her condition was all too evident. But she was genuinely sorry to tell us we had been too late. "A very nice man… a Mr. Pendergast… was here this morning and we spoke long and hard. He showed us pictures of his estate and promised Charlie he would have his own pony and learn to race and he would treat him like his son. He even had his solicitor with him to draw up formal papers. I didn't even have to call my solicitor, since he knew him. I'm so pleased Charlie will have a good home."

"Why yes, it was. See, here it is on the paper he had me sign. He and his solicitor were so kind and gentle with Charlie. It was hard for him to leave, but we had talked about it a lot and he was very brave. He gave me a sum of money. I didn't want to accept it, but he insisted. But he took all the pictures that I have of Charlie."

The 'paper' was a standard slave indenture! Her Charlie would be a class-two slave for five years.

Jack Pendergast was a notorious slave abuser… even if that term did not apply to slaves under our laws. He would buy a young slave boy and viciously abuse him until he grew tired of him. The slave would then suffer an 'accident' that would be cause to have the boy 'put down'. Then he would buy another slave and begin again.

The authorities tried to stop him, but simply had no cause. He could beat the slave, castrate or even nullify him, mutilate him any way he pleased so long as he got court approval to dispose of him… what else could the court do with a slave in that condition?

Jan left the room to call our solicitor, retired Chief Justice Sir Robert McDaniel, as I sought to keep Mrs. Smith from discovering what she had so foolishly done.

McDaniel gently explained it to her, and she was devastated and wept in his arms. But he held out a firm conviction that the enslavement could be set aside and Charlie returned to her. He would go before the court and have the enslavement quashed as fraudulent and present a petition for Charlie to be adopted by a good and deserving family.

Hey! That's us! We had made the choice! Sight unseen, Charlie was going to be ours!

The Rescue

Pendergast was sitting in an overstuffed chair with a young boy in his lap and Jan and I got our first look at Charlie.

He was fair and slim but the feature that set him apart was his unruly mop of flaming red hair. His normally freckle-splashed face sported a nasty bruise and the rest of his small body bore the markings of severe canings. He was naked except for a hideously spiked collar and he had obviously been crying. Evidently we had interrupted a discipline session.

"Mr. Pendergast, we have a warrant to reclaim Charles Smith from you as he was obtained from his natural mother by fraud," Sir Robert told him.

"He's my slave and you can't have him," replied Pendergast. "Tell them, Julius!"

"You nincompoop!" replied his solicitor. "He's not yet a slave! The papers haven't been filed yet. I told you not to discipline him until they were filed."

"It would seem, sir, that you have abused a free child," broke in the constable. "Now surrender the lad at once or we shall have to take him by force."

"No!" screamed Pendergast. "You won't have him!" And before any of us could stop him, he scooped the boy up and dashed from the room and up a flight of steps, slamming an iron gate behind him.

"It's locked," exclaimed Sir Robert. Turning to the cowering slave who had admitted us, he barked, "Fetch the key at once or I will have you horse-whipped. The slave returned posthaste with a large ring of keys and unlocked the gate.

We pounded up the steps, listening to Charlie's screams echoing through the upper stories of the house. We finally burst out onto a flat roof to confront Pendergast who was dangling Charlie by his arms over the edge of the low parapet.

"Sir!" shouted the constable, "If that child dies, you will feel the King's justice at the end of a short rope. You are already guilty of gross child abuse and obtaining a child by fraud!"

That seemed to give Pendergast pause, and Jan made a flying leap, grabbing Charlie's dangling legs and I grabbed him to keep him from pitching over the parapet. As I did, I heard a sizzling sound and all at once the boy was free and both of us fell back onto the roof with the boy in Jan's arms. We watched in horror as Pendergast slowly tipped backward over the low barrier and toppled the three stories to the flag-stone courtyard below.

In the tussle, one of the vicious spikes had pierced Charlie's shoulder and he was bleeding profusely. We rushed him to hospital.

After more than an hour, the resident on duty came out to us. "You have been very fortunate," he told us. An inch [2½ cm] either way and you would be burying this kid. And just how did he get that bruise and all those welts?" he demanded.

"My clients rescued him from a known child abuser," Sir Robert interrupted. "They are going to raise him as their son."

"I'm sorry! I should not have assumed." apologized the doctor. "Please forgive me, but I was just enraged when I first saw the condition the boy was in."

"Just come with me," answered the doctor as he led us to Charlie's room. "I've given him something to let him sleep and I'd like to hold him overnight so we can be sure there's no infection."

We gazed down at the sleeping boy. He looked so frail and vulnerable. We each took a hand and stood there for some time. Our new son! Our Charlie!

"I'll stay!" I replied, beating Jan to the punch. "Why don't you go home and get his room ready?" Jan nodded, gave me a kiss and left. Sir Robert took his leave, promising to go before the court in the morning. He assured me we would not have to appear with Charlie to have our adoption registered. It's amazing what the court will do for even a retired Chief Justice.

Alone with the boy, I sat there still holding his hand. Well, Jasper, I thought. You have a little brother!

Charlie Comes Home

Jan arrived early the next morning, bringing with him a set of Jasper's pajamas that he thought might fit, and we got Charlie ready to go home. He was mostly impassive, spoke not a word to us, but allowed himself to be dressed and dutifully climbed into our car.

Arriving home, we introduced him to our house and showed him his room… it had been Jasper's room and Jan had worked most of the night sprucing it up and getting it ready for Charlie.

Waiting for him on the bed was Yogi-the-bear which Charlie eyed with suspicion. Sensing his discomfort, I told him, "Yogi was a friend of our son, Jasper and we thought he might be your friend, too. But, if you like, I'll put him up on the shelf." Charlie nodded, and Yogi was removed to his new resting place.

For the first several days, either Jan or I was with him all the time. He sat for hours, simply staring into space and our attempts to engage him in conversation were ignored. He did what we told him to do, took his shower, ate what was set before him, accepted our hugs, but showed little sign that he was part of the family. He had yet to speak a word.

If our experience with Jasper had taught us nothing else it was that patience and love will win out in the end. It would take a lot of both; here was a little boy who had lost his mother, been consigned by fraud into the hands of a cruel and abusive master and then rescued by two others who promised they would treat him with love. Could he believe them?

At night one of us slept in the chair beside his bed so we would be there if he needed anything. And so we would be there when he awoke in the morning.

He was still sleeping when I awoke early one morning, so I decided to slip out to the kitchen for a moment. As I stood at the counter pouring a cup of coffee, I suddenly felt a pair of little arms around my waist. I quickly set the cup down, turned about and dropped to my knees. He continued to hug me… a first… and laid his head on my shoulder. He was trembling and I could tell he had been frightened when I was not there when he awoke.

"I'm sorry, Charlie," I consoled him. "I didn't mean to frighten you. Will you forgive me?"

Sensing a break-thru moment, I asked, "Would you like to lie down with me for a bit?"

I scooped him up, carried him into the room that Jan and I shared, laid him on the bed and lay down beside him. He threw his arms around me, laid his head on my chest and began to cry.

After a long while, he had cried himself out and I wiped his face with my shirt. He began to tremble again and I just held him close until be relaxed.

"Your Mama wanted you to have a good home with someone who would love you and help you to grow up to be fine man. But he lied to her; he tricked her into believing that he would do what she wanted. When she found out about him, she was very sad."

"Charlie, not all grown-ups are kind and good. Some, like Mr. Pendergast, are bad and evil. They enjoy hurting little boys and making them cry."

"We don't know why some people are bad. The best we can do is to try to protect children from them and rescue them if they fall into a bad person's hands. That's what we tried to do for you and your mama. That's why you're our little boy, now."

"Charlie, we want to love you and care for you and help you to grow up to be a fine young man that your mama would be proud of. Both Jan and I love you very much and we promised your mama we would."

"Charlie, we will never, ever, beat you with a stick. If you misbehave, we might have to spank you, but that is all."

He thought for a while, but then nodded his head, "Mama sometimes did that when I didn't behave. But then she would always tell me that she loved me. So that's OK."

We both lay quietly for a while and then he asked, "What should I call you and Jan?"

He digested that for a moment. Then he threw his arms around my neck once more and said, "Oh Papa Chris! I love you!"

We spent most of the day lying there and he told me all about his life with his mama. All the things he liked to do, all the things they had done together before she got sick. I promised him we would do those things, too. Most of all, he wanted to go to school and I told him he would at the end of the summer and that made him particularly happy.

We lay there together until he heard Jan arrive home. Jumping up, he ran to Jan, leaped into his arms and declared, "Papa Jan, I love you!"

The next day, we both took him clothing shopping. He needed to have things of his own, not just hand-me-downs from Jasper.

He told us he was a 'big boy' and didn't need to have one of us stay with him at night. So Jan and I could be together at night once more. But, quite frequently, we awoke to find a third body in our shared bed in the morning.

And slowly, without any of us knowing exactly when it happened, we became family.

Jan and I arranged our work so one of us could be home with Charlie every day and we would continue this practice until school started. Jan would usually spend his day reading to him or playing simple games. I liked to take him to the store with me and to the park. There he could be with other kids his age and soon began playing with them.

But the best time of day was after dinner when, after his shower, in his pajamas or not, he would sit in one of our laps and we might read to him or he would read to us from the books that had been Jasper's or we might watch a little TV. Some evenings we both just relaxed and didn't even talk. He just snuggled down until he fell asleep. I had forgotten how good it was to have a little boy in my lap.

I noticed Jan was a bit upset after one of his evening sessions with Charlie and, after our boy had been tucked in, my lover confessed to me shamefaced, "He wanted know about Jasper. I started to tell him, but then I got so choked up, I couldn't go on."

"Chris, you know you're so much better at that sort of thing that I am. I, I, I just couldn't go on. Please forgive me."

Jan had nearly lost his life when Jasper had been kidnapped and almost succumbed to despair when Jasper died, and I understood his feelings. "Always, lover! But I'll have to give a lot of thought to what I should tell him," I mused.

I took a deep breath and began. "He was a little boy just like you, but he never had a loving family until we got him. His mama had died when he was just a baby after she sold him to a boy brothel."

I sighed. This was getting tough! "Little one, there are both good and bad people in this world."

"God doesn't do that. But He wants those of us who are good to help save little boys like you from the bad people. He wants us to love you and care for you so you will grow up to be a good person, too."

Throwing his arms around my neck, he replied, "I think you and Papa Jan are the goodest people and I'm so very, very glad you're my papas!"

I fought against the wave of sadness that threatened to consume me. I fought very hard!

I began to cry and for several minutes I couldn't even talk. "He was a little boy just like you, Charlie," I sobbed. "We gave him a loving home, just like we want to do for you. But the bad men stole him away from us. They hurt him so bad! So very bad he only lived for three days after we found him and brought him home again. The doctors just couldn't save him!" And I continued to weep.

People say children don't understand; that they can't possibly know what an adult feels. Well, I know one little boy who knew. He didn't try to talk to me; he just held me and looked into my eyes. I could feel the love and comfort flowing from those green eyes to me, and I managed to get myself under control again.

"Sometimes the doctors can't save a person who is too sick or hurt. Just like my mama. I know you and Papa Jan must have tried very hard."

His next question nearly floored me, "Would you like to take a warm shower with me and I can wash you just like you did for me when I first came here?" My son the therapist!

I nodded and he helped me remove my clothes, shed his own and pulled me into the shower with him. Those soft little hands soaping and rubbing me were just the best feeling I have ever had. There was nothing overtly sexual about it, but it was very erotic.

Later, both of us naked, we sat in my chair together again and he just cuddled against me until he was ready to be tucked in for the night.

I carried him to his bed… never mind the pajamas… and tucked him in. Looking up at me, he asked, "Jasper would have been my big brother, wouldn't he?"

"He is your big brother," I answered. "Because I think he looks down from where he is and sees a sweet little boy being loved and cared for, and he is happy for all of us."

He thought for a minute and then asked, "Could you reach Yogi for me? I think he would be my friend, too. Just like Jasper!"

I tiptoed out of his room and into Jan's arms. "Chris, that was the most beautiful and loving thing I have ever seen!" he assured me.

An Erotic Dilemma

Intellectually, I agreed with him, but emotionally I struggled. I really enjoyed him in my lap and it was a constant struggle to keep my hands from exploring that enticing body. And Charlie sensed it!

It was my turn to have him that evening and, as he snuggled down in my lap, he sighed and confessed, "I really like it when we sit together like this. It makes me feel so gooood!"

"You mean do we have sex?" He nodded. "Yes that's what lovers do," I tried to explain to him without telegraphing my growing sense of panic.

"Why wouldn't it be right? I love you and Papa Jan very much and I know that you love me."

"It just wouldn't be. Now I think it's your bedtime." He kissed us both goodnight and trotted off to his room, but I could tell he was confused and disappointed.

Jan had even more difficulty the next night. "The little shit wanted to know what we do in bed!" he told me after Charlie had been dispatched to his room. "What are we going to do?"

"I don't know," I replied. "He's got feelings for us that excite him and that he can't understand. The last thing we want is for him to feel bad about them. Until we found each other all we knew about sex was that it hurt a lot. I certainly don't want to rape him, but how do we show him that sex can be loving and beautiful?"

When we explained our dilemma, he sat there with a bemused smile on his face. "Don't laugh! It's not funny!" asserted Jan. "You have all those luscious little slave-boys to play with!"

"Easy, lover," I cautioned him. Turning to Marcus, I said, "I don't think that would work. He's fixed on us, so we need to know how to teach him without our being involved physically. After all, it is illegal, too."

"I can tell you want to do what is best for him and yourselves," he replied. "I was just remembering what a shock it was to me when I was first freed and discovered that Father and I could no longer be bed partners. That I would have to find someone else. Well, I did and I've never been sorry but it was tough at first. I know that doesn't help you, but I think I understand how he feels. How did you handle this with Jasper?" he asked.

"We didn't need to." I replied. "He already knew everything. Did you forget where he came from? In fact he taught us a few things."

"He knew all about good sex and bad sex," added my lover. "And he had a best friend he could share with. Charlie doesn't have a best friend. He's never chosen one."

"Well that does make it more difficult," Marcus agreed. He thought for a few minutes while Jan and I stewed, but finally said, "OK guys. I know you want to do what's right for both you and Charlie. Yes, an adult having sex with a free child is illegal. But the law was made to protect free children from abuse. I don't think it was made to apply to a parent teaching a child about sex. So, I think you could show him a few simple things and let him know that you'll understand if he wants to share his love with another boy, with a best friend. So long as you don't make it an every-day thing. But I wouldn't go any further than stroking. Oral sex should wait."

"I know you said you like it when we cuddle like this, but what do you feel like when we do it?" I asked my boy.

"I feel warm and safe and all tingly," he answered with a sigh of contentment. "But my wee-wee gets all stiff. Why does it do that?"

"Let's learn some new words," I told him. "That part of your body is called your 'penis'. Or, more often, your 'prick' or 'cock'. And when it gets stiff, that's called an 'erection' or 'hard-on'."

"It's the way a boy's body responds when he's made to feel loved. Particularly if it's by another boy or someone else he loves very much."

"Sit up a minute." He did and I gently removed his pajama top. He shivered with anticipation. "Now lean back and relax." I rubbed his chest gently, marveling at the feel of his skin. It was so warm and soft! Rubbing his small nipples until they hardened, I asked "Do you like it when I do this?"

Well, in for a penny, in for a pound, I thought. I slipped his pajama bottoms down and he obligingly raised his little ass. I rubbed the tops of his legs and then took his little cock and balls in my hands. He gasped and almost strangled as I rubbed his prick and rolled his little marbles around in their sack. OK, I enjoyed it, too.

I continued to play with him until I sensed he was near his climax. "Just enjoy what is going to happen and don't be afraid," I cautioned him. "It's perfectly normal." I felt his body go rigid as I drove him over the top and he screamed at the top of his lungs. He would be a noisy lover!

Until he recovered his breath, I just held him close. "What was that?" he finally managed to gasp.

"It's called an 'orgasm'," I replied. "When you're a little older, you'll shoot your seed out of your prick when you have one. That's how a man gets his seed into a woman to start a baby. Did you like it?"

"No. That's something you must share with a best friend or a lover. There are other things that feel wonderful, too. But they should wait until you're a little older."

"I'm sure you will and you'll know when the time comes. It's OK to share with another boy your age who you really like and trust. But keep in mind, your real lover may not be another boy." He wrinkled up his cute little nose at that.

We showed him how he could pleasure himself; but, mindful of Marcus's limits, that's as far as it went.

All right, we did very occasionally have him in our bed for a little 'remedial education'.

School days

The summer passed quickly and it was soon opening day for our local primary school.

Charlie would be in year four and his teacher was Marsha Powell… the kind of teacher every parent hopes for. We had met with her the week before and, armed with a thorough understanding of what Charlie had been through, she made him welcome and he was soon comfortable with his classmates.

When we met with her for our first parent conference, she praised us. "I know there are some people who would claim that your lifestyle is not a good environment for raising a child. Well, guys, let me tell you I don't think they have a clue about raising a child. You are surely doing something right! Charlie is doing very well and he is a joy to have in my class."

We thanked her for her praise and told her how pleased we were that Charlie was in her class. Unknown to us then, she would save our family from untold misery.

But she had something else interesting to tell us. "Most young boys his age soon choose another boy to be his best friend, the one he swears he will always love. Sometimes it develops into a life-long liaison."

"But your son hasn't done that. He's everybody's friend. If you asked every boy and girl in my class who their friends are, Charlie would be at the top of every list. I've never seen him being unkind or hurtful to any of his classmates. Indeed, he's often the mediator when two of the kids get into a snit. He's truly an amazing boy."

He got into his share of mischief, disobeyed now and then and sometimes merited punishment, even a spanking. He had a strong independent streak and didn't always do as we asked. An example was the problem with the toy gun.

The Toy Gun Caper

Despite our oft expressed wishes, he was… like most young boys… fascinated by guns, although he was forbidden to play with them.

One afternoon he was late coming home from school and he looked at us guiltily. When Jan asked for an explanation, he confessed, "I found a toy gun on the schoolyard and stopped to play with it. Some older boys came by and said it was broken, so I threw it in the trash. I shouldn't have, I guess,"

"No you should not have," Jan told him. "You know what our rules are about guns."

"You're grounded for the rest of the week; no TV and no computer." After supper, he accepted his punishment and went off to bed. And that was that!

I was sitting in my office the next morning when my phone rang, the tone indicating a call forwarded from home.

"Mr. Dantz, this is Marsha Powell. You must come quickly! They're here to arrest Charlie. Something to do with a toy gun!"

I thanked her for calling me… I found out later that Headmaster Snape had told her that he had tried to call me, but that was a lie and she knew it. I yelled to my office assistant to find Jan who was somewhere out in the plant and tell him there was trouble at Charlie's school and I was going to straighten it out.

Dashing into the school building, I confronted a constable and an inspector leading a crying and terrified Charlie… his hands painfully fastened behind his back with a plastic tie. They were about to leave as Snape admonished my son, "Stop your crying, Charlie! You're upsetting the other children!" Spying me, he shrieked, "I said you and your fag lover were unfit parents and this proves it. I will not have my campus endangered by an out-of-control child with a dangerous weapon!"

Charlie managed to break away from his captors and fled to my arms. Looking at the three men, I growled, "I'll thank you not to manhandle my son." By this time Charlie's wrists were bleeding and my look of anger sent Snape fleeing back to his office. Barely controlling myself, I asked, "Will someone tell me what is going on?"

"Well, I'm here now and I want an explanation for this outrage," I leveled at him.

"Mr. Snape has filed a report that your son was observed by two older boys with a dangerous weapon. He has readily admitted he brought it on the campus, played with it and then threw it in the trash."

"No I didn't," sobbed Charlie. "I didn't bring it; I found it under the tree in the playground. Headmaster kept saying I was lying. I'm not lying! I should have let it alone! It was just a toy and it was broken!"

"There seems to be some animosity between you and Headmaster Snape," the inspector observed to me. "But he has filed a report and we'll have to act on it. We'll have to take your son in. It will be up to the court to decide if further proceedings are in order."

My phone rang at that moment. It was Jan and I filled him in. "Get our solicitor and meet me at the station-house. I'll go with Charlie." He rang off, anxious to do what I had asked.

"Charlie, we're going to have to go with these policemen, but I'll be with you."

"Please sir," the constable interrupted him. "Let him ride with the boy. The tyke is frightened to death."

We three climbed into the back of their wagon while the inspector got into the cab with his driver and we set off. "Can't you free his wrists?" I asked. "They're cut and bleeding."

A snip later and I could hold Charlie and he could have his arms around my neck and sob on my shoulder. "It's OK, little one," I told him. "We'll get this straightened out."

Author's note: If you think the above sounds far-fetched, consider that an identical incident took place with a minority child in a town in the western part of the United States. The child in that case has been held in juvenile detention for over four months while the authorities stoke their egos.

A little table-pounding by our solicitor, Sir Robert McDaniel, and Charlie was released to Jan and me. Sir Robert is a master at intimidation and the inspector and his boss just wilted under his verbal lash. Charlie's hearing would be the next morning.

As a dangerous and presumably guilty felon… in our country, the burden of proof rests with the defense… our son had to sit in the prisoner's box naked and in hand and leg cuffs. The latter were too large and he could readily step out of them, but appearances must be served. Sir Robert sat next to him and Jan and I seethed behind him.

Two slightly older boys… about twelve or so I judged… entered with their confused parents and took their places at the witness box. One of them immediately got up and ran over to Charlie. "We're sorry we got you into trouble. Mr. Snape told us what to say to the police, but it wasn't true. You didn't bring the gun. He hid it there and told us to watch who picked it up. He said it was important to show he was a good headmaster."

"Good boy!" said our solicitor. "You have a lot of what our North American brethren call 'guts'."

The hearing was convened and the crown immediately called one of their star witnesses.

The hearing judge was angry. "Release the defendant at once! This is a travesty! I want Mr. Snape here this afternoon to explain this charade. He should know I will not countenance trumped-up charges." Turning to Jan and me he advised us, "You have grounds to charge him with false arrest, if you wish. I could understand if you demurred so your son would not have to go through this farce again."

Charlie, Jan and I rode home, relieved but angry. Charlie spent the rest of the day mostly in our arms; he had been badly frightened. "I'm never going to disobey you again," he assured us through his tears.

"Little one," we answered him, "no one expects you to be perfect. You'll make mistakes and get into mischief sometimes. That's one reason we love you; you are all boy and boys get into mischief. But we will always forgive you and help you to do better." He sighed and snuggled deeper, love just pouring out of him.

That afternoon, Snape succeeded in convincing the judge that he was just trying to protect his school and so managed to slither out of his swamp. But he wasn't finished with us yet.

When I took Charlie to school the next day, we were informed he had been expelled. The School Committee had met in secret last night… completely under Snape's thumb… and confirmed the penalty. When his staff was told about it, they resigned en mass, leaving the school unable to function. Some weeks later the Education Minister sacked Snape and his entire School Committee.

A New House

Jan and I had been thinking about moving for some time and this contretemps was the straw that pushed us over. This house just held too many sad memories of Jasper. Marcus had invited the three of us to live with him until a new dwelling could be found. We shortly found an old house near him, but it would need extensive renovations.

Charlie would be welcomed in that district's primary school. To our delight, we found that Marsha Powell had moved into the district, taking the place of another teacher who was on child-bearing leave, and would once more be Charlie's teacher. Someone was truly looking out for us!

We put our things in storage and moved in with Marcus and Michael. And there we met Donnie and Sammy.

Donnie and Sammy were two young slaveboys that Marcus had in training. Orphaned suddenly at age nine, his friend at the Slave Authority had asked Marcus to take them and make them ready for adoption. In two short years, Marcus and Michael… with massive doses of love and discipline… had lifted them from the depths of despair to meaningful life. As soon as he could find a worthy family to adopt them, Marcus intended to sell them.

Charlie was a bit flustered when two naked boys his own age greeted him on their knees with their foreheads pressed to the floor. "Please tell them to rise and go about their duties," Jan coached him. He did as Jan asked, but was clearly uncomfortable.

"No, Charlie. They suddenly lost their parents and there was no one to take care of them."

"They're being punished for that?" Charlie asked with some distress. "They're just kids like me!"

"Yes they are, but you remember, that almost happened to you when your mama died. If Chris and I hadn't rescued you, you would have been put into slavery, too."

"It can be, if they go to someone like Mr. Pendergast, but we try to assure they go to masters who will love and care for them. The strict discipline they must follow gives them something to focus on instead of their pain and sorrow."

Charlie thought for a moment and then mused, "I guess that makes sense. But how long must they be slaves?"

"At least two years. And if they have become good slaves, then they can be adopted by a good family. And I assure you, Uncle Marcus will be absolutely certain he has chosen the right family for them."

"Donnie and Sammy. Just treat them with respect and accept it when they call you 'Sir' or bow to you. Once we know them better, I'm sure Uncle Marcus will let them be a bit less formal with us here in the house. Just remember, they are slaves and must not refuse a request from a free person unless their master has forbidden it. So be careful what you ask of them."

Marcus had set aside a room for the three of us. It was a bit cramped with three, but his two slaveboys quickly solved that problem. Late that afternoon, Sammy appeared before me in his 'position'. I immediately released him.

"Please, Master Chris. Sir Charlie could bunk with us and give you and Master Jan more room." 'And privacy,' I thought. "We have lots of room."

We corralled the three boys and went in search of Marcus to tell him our decision. "That's great!" he agreed. "And why don't we have slave discipline off while the three of you are in your quarters." He told me later that he remembered our earlier conversation and thought the two would probably enhance the sex education we had been able to give our son.

Both Jan and I were pleased to see Charlie so happy. He had had some scary moments recently.

Charlie's first several nights with his new friends were uneventful. But one evening, just as Jan and I were about to retire, Marcus sought us out. "Come and listen!"

The slave quarters was equipped with an infrared camera and mic. We sat in front of the monitor in Marcus's office and watched the byplay.

The two slaveboys sat on their bunks and watched closely as Charlie got ready for bed. Sammy nodded to Donnie who asked, "Charlie, did your dads teach you about things that boys do at night?"

"I don't know," Charlie replied with some hesitation, "I've never done it with anyone. I, I, I don't know what to do."

They both got up and led Charlie to their bed. Their hard-ons were quite obvious. "May we undress you?" Charlie nodded and was soon as naked as they were. And hard, too.

Sammy crawled up on their bunk and pulled Charlie into his lap. Stroking and tweaking Charlie's nipples, he asked, "Do you like it when I do this?"

The sparks running through his body robbed Charlie of his voice and he could only nod.

Donnie, in the meantime, positioned himself and went to work on the hard pole pointed at him. Charlie gasped, closed his eyes and went to another world. It wasn't long before he gave a strangled scream as he reached his peak.

"Ooooooh!" he gasped. "That was the most best thing I have ever felt. I sometimes rub myself and get that good feeling, but never as good as that! Can I make you feel good too?"

In answer, his two partners lay down on either side of him and he took a stiff prick in either hand. It wasn't long before he had both of them gasping and squealing.

Kissing him warmly on his lips, they pulled him into their bunk, pulled the covers up and were asleep in seconds, a tangle of naked arms and legs.

"I intend to," replied our host. "The camera and mic will stay off. But I was curious how long it would take them to get into it. Both boys are very loving and I was sure they would want to share their bodies with their new friend. You've done a good job teaching Charlie and now he has someone he can share with."

The next morning Charlie appeared flushed and excited. "How was last night?" I asked.

"Because you're a boy and they're boys and that's what boys do. And I believe I heard a scream of pleasure. Enjoy them!"

He looked at me very seriously for a moment and then giggled. I gave him a big hug as we went to breakfast, served by two somewhat sheepish but excited slaves. I gave them both a 'thumbs-up' sign. They looked at me wide eyed. But, then they giggled, too.

Later that day, I got the three of them together and told them, "Jan and I know what you like to do at night. And it's OK. In fact it's great! Neither of us will ask about it, nor will your master. It's between the three of you."

Charlie immediately jumped into my arms and invited his two sex partners to join him. It certainly wasn't proper slave behavior, but I wasn't going to complain.

When I questioned him about it, he told me, "Well, I don't want Donnie and Sammy to think I'm any better than they are even if they are slaves. Is it OK?" I could see both Marcus and Jan nodding, so I gave my permission.

"Just remember," I told him, "only in the house and on the grounds. They have to go naked in public, but you cannot. That's the law."

So now we had three naked little boys about the place. "Aren't they beautiful?" remarked Michael one evening after all three had served dinner. Gorgeous was a better term.

Learning to Swim

Charlie was quite brave and self-sufficient about most things, but swimming terrified him. But with summer approaching, we wanted to be sure he could handle himself in the water.

I took him to a nearby lake one early June day. The water was still rather cold, but warm enough… at least I thought so. When I stripped him and he discovered we were going into the water, he screamed and struggled with all his might. Clinging to me desperately, he finally allowed me to duck his head under water and came up sputtering with fright. But he knew he should conquer his fear and gradually, over several weeks he made his peace with the water, at least partly. As in most things, he threw himself into learning to swim and was soon more than adequate.

Jan had also taught him how to float motionless with his back arched, but he didn't like that very much; he had to hold too still.

So, in his own way, he fashioned a test. A test that would once and for all prove to himself that he had conquered his fear. Neither Jan nor I was much in favor of it; but it was very important to Charlie, so we reluctantly agreed to it. I was to take him out on the lake about a hundred meters [100 yards] or so, tie his hands behind his back and his feet together and throw him overboard. It would be up to him to free himself and float or swim back to shore.

We chose a hot day so the cold water wouldn't freak him out, but he was nervous and trembling. As I tied him up, he looked at me hopefully "Please don't try to save me, Papa," he begged.

"Charlie, if I thought you were in real trouble, I would get you out no matter what you wanted." He made a face at that and flipped himself over the gunwale into the water.

Completely forgetting what he had learned and practiced so long, he immediately began to struggle with his bonds. I saw him growing weaker and leaped overboard, grabbed him and heaved him back into the boat, all the while cursing myself for the foolishness I had allowed him to talk me into. Hauling myself back into the boat, I sat him up and helped him cough and sputter.

Was he grateful? No! The little shit kept screaming, "Put me back in! Please, Papa! I'll be all right! I just forgot for a moment!" I shook my head. "Please, Papa. I must defeat my fear," he sobbed. "Please, Papa!" For some reason… I guess it was because it seemed so important to him… I acquiesced.

This time he immediately assumed the position Jan had taught him. Floating on his back with his little pole… well, not so little any more… sticking out of the water, he looked like a strange submarine. After settling down a bit, he gently picked at the knots at his feet, keeping his back well arched and soon had them free. Rolling over, he kicked his way to shore, rolled himself up on the beach and slipped his hands free. The look of triumph on his face was worth any fears I had had.

Grounding the boat I walked up and stood over him. "Thank you Papa, for saving me."

"But you did save me. You and Papa Jan taught me how to float and you trusted me to try. I'll never be afraid of water again." I just knelt beside him, took him into my arms and bawled.

Yoshi and Arico

That August, Marcus and Jan were to go to a business conference in North America and Michael was to accompany them. Charlie and I could have stayed in the house, but I decided a special treat was in order. One of Jasper's favorite places had been Lakeside, a summer camp/resort on Lake Windermere. So, despite some lingering sadness, I booked us a tent-for-two for four weeks. We would return home just as the three were back from the conference and a few days before school took up again.

Charlie, too, fell in love with the place, especially the swimming, boating and other lakeside activities. Kids Charlie's age and younger went 'skinny' in the water. Older teens wore skimpy Speedos and Bikinis; Charlie's take was, "I don't know why they bother. They certainly don't hide much." I had a hard time keeping up with him and we both usually crawled into our bunks completely exhausted at day's end.

Our neighbors were two Japanese boys, Yoshi and Arico. They were both thirteen, but like many young Orientals, looked several years younger. They had jet black hair and slim, sexy bodies.

Their parents… a trade mission from Japan… had 'dumped' them for the summer so they could return home on leave. But they were nice kids… exceedingly polite and well mannered… and we got to know them well as we included them in our 'family' group. Perhaps Charlie would find one of them to be that 'special friend' he so longed for.

But one evening after we had bid them goodnight, Charlie… with keen oversight, observed, "I think they love each other very much, but are afraid to show it." I agreed he was quite right as I, too, had observed the way they sadly looked at each other.

The next afternoon, Charlie came to me. "Papa, they love each other very much and want to be life-mates. But they don't know how to show their love. Is there some way we can help them?" I probably should have stayed out of it, but I didn't and invited them over for a chat that evening.

We sat together on the step leading to our tent. "Guys," I addressed them, "you love each other, don't you?"

They both jumped. After a moment, Yoshi replied, looking down at his feet, "Yes, Christopher-san. Very much." His partner started to tear up but just nodded.

"That makes it tough, I know. But they would have found out sometime. So it's best you recognize it now while you're here with us… among friends." Expert advice, right?

"Then I want you to do something." They listened intently. "I want you to go to the showers and wash each other all over. Every part of you both. Then dry each other off and get into one bed. Forget your night clothes and just hold each other. Do whatever feels right and good." They looked at me eyes wide with wonder, but trotted off to do my bidding.

They both fell on their knees before me and looked up with tears glistening in their eyes. "It… it… it was wonderful, Christopher-san!" Yoshi assured me. "How did you know it would be so beautiful?"

I pulled them both into my arms and motioned for Charlie to join us. "It is easy to tell you love each other very much," I told them. "You just needed a little encouragement to do what you have always wanted to do. I'm glad you liked it. And I hope you'll continue."

Arico suddenly looked up with fright written all over him. "Our families will never understand, Yoshi!"

His partner nodded sadly. What had been a profoundly happy scene had become dark and scary.

"You're right. They may not," I told them softly. "But now that you have each other and know that your love is genuine, you can face them. I want you to know that if things should go awry, Charlie and I will stand by you. If you should need a place to stay, we would be honored. You can get directions to our home from the staff here at Lakeside and I will make sure they know that." Was I having second thoughts about what I had counseled them to do? Probably.

I didn't want to frighten them, but I did want them to know they were not alone. Charlie had observed all of this and he was concerned. That night, he asked, "Did we do the right thing?"

"I think so, son," I answered him. "Their families would have discovered their relationship sooner or later. I think their love is strong enough to survive no matter what. But I hope their families will understand. You can help them this week. Just remember what Jan and I have taught you about love between two boys."

"Yes. If it comes to that. Just be available and loving. And don't push them." He thought for a minute and then threw his arms around my neck. "Oh Papa, I love you soooooo much!"

The upshot was I slept alone for the rest of our stay. But I was optimistic that maybe Charlie had found his special friend. Then, I thought again; we would only have them for a week or two more.

Charlie meets his uncle

I was working in my office one afternoon that fall when my office assistant buzzed me and said I had an important visitor. Annoyed at being interrupted, I told him, "Tell whoever it is I can't see him today, I'm tied up."

"I think you'd better see him," he replied. "His name is Bill Gates and his wife is with him."

I was shocked and ashamed at my poor manners as I scrambled to clear the project off my desk. "Please send them in," I choked. "And find Jan!"

Bill and Melinda entered and I came around my desk to meet them. After handshakes and greetings, we sat on the couches and I relaxed a bit from my initial panic.

"It's a pleasure for us, too," replied my guest. "Your company is certainly one of our best suppliers."

"You don't, but AMD holds many of your licenses and we buy a great deal from them. In fact we still use a lot of chips that were designed by your chip genius… I believe his name was Lal Singh… a good number of years ago. They were, and still are, simply amazing."

"Yes, Lal Singh was a unique treasure," I answered, "and a dear friend to boot."

"I'm getting to that," Bill replied. "We really didn't come here to discuss business. We're here for a bit happier reason. Some time ago our local press in North America ran a story about a young boy who had been arrested falsely but justice had been done. They identified him as Charles Smith, said his mother was a Kristy Smith but had died and that you and your mate had adopted him and were raising him. After a lot of further digging, we ascertained that Kristi Smith was my older sister. So that makes your Charlie my nephew!"

"Kristi was always the wild one in our family and we lost track of her after she left college. The article about your son gave us a fresh lead which we were able to follow. We were saddened to learn of Kristi's death but simply astounded to learn she had a son."

At that moment Jan arrived so we spent the next little while introducing him and bringing him up to date. Jan was as surprised and thrilled as I had been. But then I saw a look of panic on his face. "I suppose you'll want to take him back to North America with you," he sighed.

"Goodness, no!" said a shocked Melinda. "From all we have been able to find out, you two are doing an amazing job of parenting. We wouldn't think of trying to take him away from you! He's your son!"

"Yes," added Bill. "We learned how you rescued him when Kristi almost sold him into slavery and how hard you've both worked to provide him a loving family. We would never want to interfere with that. But, we would like to meet him and let him know he has family that none of you knew about. Even a grandfather, my dad!"

"I understand," Bill assured him. "No offense taken. Why don't you meet us for dinner? We're at the Carleton and we'll get one of their private dining rooms."

"Better than that," I replied. "Why don't you come to our house for dinner? When's the last time you had real Italian spaghetti, British Empire style?"

After they had left, Jan and I sat there totally stunned. "He's Bill Gate's nephew!" croaked my lover. "Good, Lord! I never would have imagined!"

When we arrived home, Jan went immediately to the kitchen while I went in search of our son to get him presentable. I found him in the family room, trying out the new weight set we had bought him. "Hey, buster! We told you not to try anything unless one of us was watching you."

"I was just looking," he assured me. He was naked, and still small and slim but concerned about his body… or lack of it in his estimation. So far as Jan and I were concerned, he was beautiful and just the right size.

"Well, you need to put some clothes on; we have guests for dinner. I won't tell you who, but I know you'll be impressed." He looked at me quizzically but then hurried off to shower.

When our guests arrived, I sent him off to answer the door. Greeting them warmly he told the gentleman, "You look just like Bill Gates, the computer guy!"

"Charlie," I said, "that's because he is Bill Gates, the computer guy. And this is Mrs. Gates."

I decided to let the cat out of the bag, "Charlie, Mr. Gates is your uncle and Mrs. Gates is your aunt."

Melinda held out her arms and, after a moment's hesitation, Charlie accepted her invitation. Trying to be very grown up, he shook Bill's hand vigorously and then gave him a big hug, too. I could see tears in both our guests' eyes.

Jan's spaghetti was delicious and we all sat around the table chatting like the family we were. Bill's negotiating skills were evident as he got our son to tell all about his life with us.

"Charlie," Bill told him, "you have two very loving parents and Melinda and I think they are super. We hope the three of you will come to visit us in North America." Turning to me, he said, "With your permission, I'd like to establish a trust fund for Charlie, to be used for his education, to start a business or whatever he thinks is important when he comes of age." When he mentioned the figure, all three of us sat with our mouths open. "Kristi had a tough life and I'm sure Charlie did, too, until you became a family," he explained. "It's the least we can do in her memory."

The pleasant evening continued for some time until I had to carry a drooping little boy to his room.

After Bill and Melinda left, I turned to Jan. "You know our son is worth more than we are."

Maiocxx

A Five Little Boy Slaves Story

The Sons of Jan and Christopher Dantz

Summary

Characters

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Author's note

Prologue

#1