PZA: The Sons of Jan and Christopher Dantz 3-4

The two young Japanese boys from Chapter 2 have returned to their families. How will their parents react to their new relationship?

This story, once again, features several characters from Patrick's epic story, 'I Bought Five Little Boy Slaves' and the author is very much in his debt for him permitting the 'borrowing' of several of his 'boys'.

Jan and Chris, former slaves, now successful businessmen; Charlie, their son (11yo); Yoshi and Arico (13 yo) and their parents; Crom and Master Cartright.
Mt tt – slave non-cons oral anal – (some unexplicitely described spank tort and deaths)

"Aieeeeeee! My son is dead!" shouted Yoshi's father, rending his garments. He dealt him a vicious blow across his face as he pushed the kneeling boy away. His mother stood in the background, frightened and weeping.

"Do not call me that! You are anathema! I have no son. I see before me a bastard who loves another boy. Go from this house! Go, I say! Before the ancestors rise up and smite you! Take nothing with you. It belonged to my son who is dead. Do not ever return or I will take the sword in my own hands." And he strode from the room, leaving Yoshi shocked and frightened with his weeping mother.

"My son, you must go," she sobbed. "I can do nothing for you." But she hugged him and thrust a fist full of bank-notes into his pocket. "It was our son's money. Now go before he takes the sword to you." She held open the door and ushered him out into the night.

Yoshi sat on the doorstep with his head down, trying to understand the cause of his father's wrath. Yes, he loved Arico! Was that a crime? Apparently it was in his father's eyes. Finally, he rose and made his way toward Arico's house. It was the only place he could think of to go.

Meanwhile, a similar, but less heated, exchange was taking place in that house.

"My son, I do not understand this love of yours for Yoshi. I know you have always been friends, but to love him as a man loves a woman? This, I cannot imagine!"

Just then the phone rang and his father went to answer it. Arico's mother stood silently watching the boy who was visibly shaking. The very thing Charlie-San and Christopher-San had hoped would not happen had come to pass. His father came back into the room with a white and frightened look on his face.

"He says your love for another boy defiles the ancestors and I must declare that you are not my son. Else, he will send me back to the homeland and give me over to the Yakusa!"

Author's note: The Yakusa are the Japanese equivalent of the Mafia, but much more ruthless.

"I am distraught that I must do this, but I must think of your mother and sister. You must leave and never return. Go to your lover. May the ancestors watch over you." And he left the room.

Crying piteously, his mother pulled him to his feet and took Arico into her arms. After sobbing for a while, she told him, "You will always be my son and perhaps Yoshi is too. But now you must go. Take whatever you need. You spoke of friends in the south. Will you try to go to them?"

"Yes, mother. They told us to come to them if things did not work out, so I will go to Yoshi and we will go to them." He took down his camping gear and stuffed it into his pack along with extra clothes and other things he thought they might need. Then, bowing stiffly to this woman he would probably never see again, he slipped from the house.

As he made his way toward Yoshi's house, he was surprised to find Yoshi coming toward him. "So, it is your fate, too, my lover."

Yoshi nodded. "I could only bring the clothes on my back. But Mother gave me the money she had saved. I see they let you take some things. So, at least you will be warm."

"Thank you, my love. And the money now belongs to both of us, too. Come! Let us go." And they left the compound, left the town and sought the trail leading to the lakes. When they found it, they turned and headed south on the way they hoped would bring them to their friends.

The first several days were not difficult; it was more like a fall camping jaunt. They had money to buy food along the way and managed to find a pair of boots to fit Yoshi. At night, they lay together in Arico's sleeping-bag and held each other. The full impact of their banishment had not yet reached them; with the optimism of youth, they would meet this challenge.

They had gone into a small town to purchase food when they were accosted by a constable who asked to see their 'papers'. "How do I know you are not runaway slave?" he asked them.

Neither boy had any kind of identification and they tried to convince the constable they were on a walking tour. But he took them to the station anyway.

"Strip!" he told them. They looked at each other, but decided not to challenge him and they soon stood naked with their clothes in a heap.

After examining the contents of Arico's pack and clothing and finding nothing of interest, the constable turned his attention to Yoshi.

"No Sir, we did not steal this. It is funds for our walk-about," Yoshi tried to explain.

"Well, it will just about cover your fine," he told them, putting the money into his pocket. That, and one more thing." Dropping his pants, he pointed to his aroused penis. The two boys exchanged glances and then Yoshi dropped to his knees and serviced the constable.

"Not bad at all," the constable gasped after filling Yoshi's mouth. "You little cocksuckers must have lots of practice." He allowed them to re-dress and kicked them out.

Now they had no funds and there was still a long way to go. "We better travel at night and stay away from towns," Arico said and his mate agreed with him.

For the next several days, the only food they had was the berries along the trail and a few things they were able to steal from the farms along the way. But, it was now fall and these things would soon be gone once winter arrived.

One night, they encountered a high steel chain-link fence topped with barbed wire next to the trail. "I have a bad feeling about this place," Yoshi told his mate, and they hurried along beside it.

Suddenly, there was a snap and Arico was dragged screaming into the air by one leg. Before Yoshi could even react to help his friend, he was seized from behind and thrown to the ground. Within seconds they were both bound hand and foot and thrown at the feet of a huge black man.

"I am Crom!" he thundered. "Why are you trying to sneak past my master's property? You must be runaway slaves."

The two of them, hands fastened tightly behind their backs, were dragged before an evil looking man and thrown to the floor in front of him. "Well, what have we here? Two runaways?"

"I found them trying to sneak past our fences," replied Crom. "They have no markings, but I believe they are runaways. There are ways to remove slave markings."

"Please sir," begged Yoshi from his knees. "We are not slaves! We are free Japanese boys."

"That's what they all say!" barked their host. "You are my slaves now, and you will be treated accordingly."

"No sir! We are free boys! You have no right…" The slap across his face from Crom sent him reeling and left a prominent bruise.

"Crom, take these animals and teach them some manners. Their former master has nearly ruined them."

The black man grabbed both boys and dragged them from the house to another building.

Entering, he dumped Arico on the floor and forced Yoshi to stand on a small bench in front of some kind of frame. Releasing his hands, he fastened them to the overhead bar, high above Yoshi's head and kicked the bench out from under him, leaving him hanging. The pain in his shoulders started at once and grew steadily worse and he began to cry.

Repeating the same process with Arico, Crom now had two naked and terrified boys just hanging and waiting for his next move.

Selecting a barbed whip from where it hung on the wall, he held it in front of his victims. "You think you know what pain is? You haven't begun to feel pain," he informed them, as he moved around behind them.

Yoshi heard a swish and a line of fire erupted across his back. The pain was so much worse than anything he had ever felt, he couldn't even scream. But he heard Arico's piercing scream moments later, and then another line of fire was planted across the tops of his legs. His lover told him later that he screamed a lot… Yoshi didn't remember it; it was like someone else was screaming!

The whip continued to abuse and tear their flesh until they both passed out. Their blood was streaming from a myriad of cuts and dripping onto the floor. When they awoke, they had been thrown into a small wire cage and lay there smeared with each others blood. All they could do was to hold hands and sob. It hurt too much to touch any other part of their bodies.

They lay there all night until Crom came for them they next morning. "I'm sorry, young boys," he told them, "but I had no choice. You must not speak to Master that way. He has ways of causing you much more pain unless you behave as a slave is supposed to. He wishes to see you."

A lotion of some sort was rubbed all over them by Corm's accompanying slaves, all young black boys. It relieved most of the pain and removed the dried blood, but left the cuts and welts visible.

Crom inspected them and pronounced them fit. "I will take you to Master, now. Be very sure you remain on your knees with your foreheads touching the floor and do not speak unless you are told to," he instructed them. "You are slaves whether you think so or not. Do as you are told and you may be allowed to live! Perhaps he will not send you to the mines."

The two boys knelt at the feet of Master Cartright shaking with terror. "Get up and turn around! Hmmm! You've done a most thorough job."

"Thank you, Master. I believe they will behave now." And he motioned them to their knees again.

"They're rather attractive, don't you think? So I think I'll keep them for the present. Brand them and put them to work."

A few moments later, they found themselves both fastened face down on small tables. They could look up and see a small branding iron heating over a brazier. When he was satisfied, Crom took the red hot iron and pressed it into the flesh on Arico's left buttock.

After a few minutes of reheating, Yoshi, too, felt the searing pain. But he passed out before his lungs could even react. When he came to, they were both sitting on chairs in front of Crom, shackled hands and feet. In addition to the red inflamed brands on their buttocks, they each sported a complicated tattoo on their shoulder-blades and another on the inside of their left thighs. They had been put there while they were unconscious.

Crom looked at them with what Yoshi felt was sympathy. "You are fortunate," he told them. "He will keep you. Not that you will enjoy it. You will have to work hard to earn your place here. If you promise to obey and do what you are ordered, I will unshackle you."

And so began their lives as Cartwright's slaves, under the tender mercies of Crom and another older slave called 'the Doctor'. Days of back-breaking toil in the fields… broiling in the hot sun, freezing in the cold… too little food… mostly stomach-turning… and uncounted days of savagery and nights of terror lying naked in their cage. At least they had each other and could comfort each other. But despair was their often visitor and nightmares were common.

Before they had been there six months they would observe and experience constant flogging and beatings, and watch in horror two hangings of nine-year-old slaves who had attempted to run away. So small that their necks were not broken by the drop, they hung there for long minutes, strangling to death and were left that way for several weeks as a warning to others.

The absolute worst, however, was a crucifixion. A slave boy their own age had attempted to escape and, in the process, assaulted a free person. As the slave's owner Cartwright must administer appropriate punishment.

Yoshi and Arico and three other slaves were forced to assist by holding the wildly struggling and screaming boy as Crom drove the spikes through his wrists and ankles. When they hoisted the cross into the prepared hole, the victim gave a shriek of agony and peed all over Arico who was at the base. All the slaves were forced to watch the inhuman scene as the boy writhed and screamed in his agony. Finally exhausted, he slumped, head down and just hung there gasping.

Along with the other three 'helpers', Yoshi and Arico were forced to spend the night shackled to the foot of the cross, listening to the victim's moans and sobs. Drifting into an uneasy and nightmare-filled sleep, they were awakened by someone approaching.

It was Crom with a large knife in his hand. Moving stealthily, he reached up to the boy's groin and stabbed deeply opening the femoral artery. Death came swiftly and Crom knelt at the base of the cross, blood splashing down upon him, and sobbed, "Rest in peace, little one. I'm sorry I could not save you!"

Yoshi and Arico looked at each other in wonder. Crom had spared the boy several more days of unspeakable agony. Death had now released him , but all the other slaves would suffer ever after, as the body was allowed to hang for several weeks, even after scavengers began to attack it.

They had been there some weeks when 'the Doctor'… himself a slave… reported to Cartwright, "They're queers! I observed them kissing and fondling each other almost every night."

Brought into the 'whipping' building, they were blindfolded and Arico was chained in a corner. Yoshi was lifted onto a small table and fastened down on his back, stretched tightly.

Yoshi tried to keep from crying, but he knew they were in for something terrible.

He felt his right nipple being rubbed until it stood out. Then an exquisite pain as a ring was forced through it. But he managed not to cry out. Next, the same treatment for his left nipple.

An even sharper pain as something was forced down the pee slot in his penis. And a much worse pain as it was forced back out of his glans, making still another ring… he found his voice and howled… and finally still another ring forced through the bottom of his scrotum where it joined his body. And at last the ring in his penis was fastened tightly to the one at the base of his scrotum, forcing his sore and bleeding member into his crotch between his balls.

Removed from the table and chained in the corner, he had to endure Arico's cries and screams as he received identical treatment.

Back in their cage, they could see for the first time what had been done to them. Now effectively eunuchs, all they could do was cry. Even the pleasure of their bodies had been denied to them. And they shortly discovered still another humiliation; whenever they peed, their urine ran down their legs and over their feet onto the ground.

Walking with their penises being pulled painfully between their legs, often crushing their balls, caused them continuing discomfort. Once a week, they were 'unhooked' and their sperm milked out of them. That always left their pricks red and raw which only increased their torment when they were refastened.

At night, their nipple rings were usually joined to each other and sleep was mostly impossible. In the morning, they would both be shocked with a cattle prod, making them jump, pulling sharply on both their nipples. And, during the day, while they labored in the hot sun, there were often heavy weights attached to them.

There seemed to be no end to the painful and humiliating torments their master, Crom and 'the Doctor' could devise.

One morning, before they were sent to the fields, Crom sent for them and took them up to the main house and turned them over to Meriso, one of the few female slaves in Cartright's collection. She was a striking oriental girl, about sixteen, and presided over the main house. She immediately sent both boys to the laundry where the two washer-boys scrubbed them harshly with a stiff brush and laundry soap to remove any vestiges of dirt… and most of the outer layers of their skins, so it seemed to the boys.

Satisfied they were clean and pure, she locked them in a storeroom where they both sat trembling with fear. Small plates of real food provided the only human contact for the entire day.

Finally Crom came to them. "In a few minutes I will take you to Master. Remember to remain on your knees until he tells you to move. Then, do what he tells you no matter how much you want to refuse. No matter how much it makes you sick. Do not resist unless you want to be on a cross, too. Master really enjoyed what you helped to do to that young boy and he is looking for a reason to have another one."

Almost incapacitated by fear, they were led in and cringed at Cartright's feet. There were five or six other men gathered there, too.

"My good servant, the 'Doctor', tells me you are fag boys. Let's see how good you are at cock-sucking."

"You!" he barked at Arico, "get over here and do it. And I better not feel your teeth! I don't want any mess to clean up, either,"

He dropped his trousers and waved his prick in Arico's face. Shuddering with revulsion, Arico remembered Crom's warning and went down on it. A few minutes later his mouth was filled with his master's spunk and he was forced to swallow.

"Not bad!" Cartright told the assembled crowd. "Why don't you have the other one, Crom. And, after he's satisfied, the rest of you can have both of them."

It seemed like hours before they were thrown back into their cage where they promptly emptied their stomachs through the grid on the bottom of the cage. Someone had anticipated their distress and had placed a container beneath their cage.

Each day they were brought to the main house again and scrubbed once more. Then, they had to endure the hours before their 'performance'. Meriso sometimes 'visited' them and eventually they trusted her enough tell her their story. But, aside from providing them with food, there was little she could do to relieve their anguish.

One night they were taken to Cartright and found a small table sitting in front of his chair. There was a buzz of conversation as Arico was strapped face-down with his legs bent over the end. The 'Doctor' was instructed to prepare Arico for the night's entertainment. Wetting his finger with his own spit, he thrust it into Arico's virgin ass-hole. Arico screamed at this violation; he and his lover had never fucked.

"Go ahead! Scream all you want!" Cartright told him. "I enjoy hearing young pretty-boys scream!"

The slave removed his finger from Arico's ass, walked over to where Yoshi was chained and made him lick it clean. "He's very tight, Master. Better open him up a bit?" Cartright nodded and a young slave boy was led into the room. About ten-years-old, he had a quite adequate set of boy-parts for his age. He was blindfolded and gagged and had to be led over to where Arico head was.

The slaveboy evidently had been through this exercise before and eagerly thrust his prick into Arico's waiting mouth. In a few moments, he was hard.

Led to the other end of his victim, the boy thrust his pole into Arico's waiting hole.

Arico screamed again. It wasn't that the boy's prick was that big, humiliation was driving him to despair. Fucking Arico's ass with all his might, the boy unloaded his small load into Arico. Pulled out, he was taken to Yoshi to have his prick licked clean.

The 'Doctor' tested Arico's hole again. "Master, he's still very tight. Perhaps I could…"

Cartright looked at his slave for a second. Realizing he had greatly overstepped his bounds, the 'Doctor' prostrated himself. A kick to his kidneys and his master's shout sent him fleeing. "Crom, why don't you open him up?"

Crom hesitated for a just a second as the other men laughed. Then he dropped his pants, revealing a truly enormous prick. After Arico had sucked him hard, Crom positioned himself at the boy's back door. "Don't fight me, little one," he whispered to Arico. "I'll be as gentle as I can." Grabbing the boy by his hips, Crom thrust into him. To Arico, it felt like he was being split in two. He began to scream, but passed out before he could even get one breath out. When he came to, Crom was still thrusting in and out and finally gave a lunge, pumping a giant load of his cream into the boy. Leaving the sobbing boy, he forced his mate to clean the shit, cum and blood from his member.

That night, Arico refused to let Yoshi touch him. "I am unclean! I am dirty!" he told his mate. "I do not deserve your love!" His ass hurt terribly and he sobbed piteously.

Yoshi, stricken to his core by Arico's statement, succeeded in drawing his lover into his arms. "No! They are the ones who are unclean! To do this thing to a young boy! We are different. We are never unclean to each other. I know it will be my turn tomorrow night and I will depend upon you to help me afterward."

Meriso tried to help by applying a soothing salve to Arico's bleeding hole, but it did little good. True to his prediction, Yoshi surrendered his cherry that night and Arico cleaned off every prick pointed at him for every man in the group except Cartright participated in Yoshi's rape.

That became the pattern for both boys; brutal raping while one sucked off Cartright and the other sucked everyone else clean. But that arrangement would prove to be almost fatal.

Yoshi was 'on the table' one night when one of the men smacked his ass while the boy was still sucking Cartright. The sudden pain in his backside caused Yoshi to clamp his teeth together, painfully biting his master.

Roaring in pain, Cartright had them both thrown into the condemned cell and left instructions to prepare two crosses. "We'll do them both on Sunday and Crom, you will not administer a 'quick death.'

They lay in the cell, holding each other, weeping. Each believed he would soon die an agonizing death… a death of humiliation and shame. Their spirits were broken. They would never live to see their friends again and Yoshi's father had been right… the ancestors would reject them and they would be tormented in a pool of fire for all eternity.

Suddenly, they heard someone unlocking their cage. Huddling in fright, they thought, "They're going to torture us."

It was Meriso! And she had called them 'young boys'! They crawled out of their cage and followed her into the lower level of the main house. Entering a room there, the two of them almost collapsed with fright.

"You are not slaves. You are good boys and do not deserve to die here. Meriso and I have been preparing a way for you to flee."

"'But," argued Yoshi, "if we flee, the authorities will catch us and either hang us or return us to Master."

"No," replied Crom. "The slave marks I put on you are false and the authorities would recognize that at once. But you must flee now. If you stay here, you will die."

Crom sighed. "Young boys, there comes a time in the life of every man… even a slave… when he must choose to do what is right or give up his humanity. I can no longer serve this monster. Even if it should cost me my life."

"You must tell the authorities about this place," added Meriso. "Many of the boys here are not slaves but free boys like you who Master is holding illegally. Crom and I are lovers and I would give my life, too, to put an end to this abomination."

From a compartment beneath their bed, Meriso removed some clothing. "Put these on. They are the best that I could do," she said, handing the boys each a pair of ragged shorts and an equally ragged shirt. "I could not find boots. I'm sorry; you will have to run barefoot."

From the same compartment she pulled a rucksack stuffed with a few articles of clothing and some worn blankets and slipped it onto Yoshi. "We have been preparing for a long time but this is all I could collect."

"We have been waiting for many months… years…, " Crom added, "for someone who had a chance to escape. As you have witnessed, most fail. But you have said you have friends in the south who will help you." Yoshi nodded. "So you have a chance."

They stood silent for a bit until Crom interrupted their thoughts. "You must go quickly! Before he awakes. I have left the south gate unlocked. But I could not turn off the alarm. As soon as you step through it, the alarm will sound. I will try to delay any pursuit, but you must run like the wind. Go straight ahead down the trail; it will lead you to freedom." Putting his arms around them, he sobbed, "GO LITTLE ONES! GO WITH GOD!"

Meriso added her blessing and they slipped out the door into the night. The late July night was unseasonable warm and muggy.

They crept slowly and stealthily across the dark compound until they finally stood before the south gate. They held each other for a few moments before carefully pulling it open. They stepped carefully through the opening and suddenly bright lights and sirens exploded about them. Like frightened rabbits, they took off down the trail… ignoring the pain in their feet.

They had gone perhaps 100 meters [a bit more than 100 yards] when a shot rang out and Yoshi felt something like a punch in the middle of his back that nearly staggered him, but he kept running. A bit further along they heard a second shot and Arico pitched forward into the dust and lay there moaning.

Stooping, Yoshi helped his dazed friend to his feet. "I'll be OK," Arico assured him, "just had the wind knocked out." And they began to run again, oblivious to the shouts coming from the compound. Meriso's scream was cut short by another shotgun blast. A final round of shouting and another blast and the compound was quiet.

Oblivious to the painful damage to their bare feet, they ran until they were exhausted, rested a bit, and ran on. Yoshi was soon aware that Arico was having hard time keeping up. But they dare not stop. So far, there had been no pursuit, but they were far from out of danger. Finally, as the sun began to rise, they were forced to stop and take stock of their condition.

Most of the supplies in the rucksack had been shredded by the shotgun blast, but it had spared Yoshi from serious injury. He did have a few places on the backs of his legs that had been cut by the shot, but they were minimal.

Arico was a different story. He had borne the results of the second blast with only a light shirt to protect him… a shirt that was now soaked with his blood. Yoshi managed to remove it to expose the wide-spread wound to his lower back and ass. With some water from a nearby stream, he washed off much of the blood and spent quite a bit of time picking lead shot out of the damaged area. Managing to salvage one shirt from their ruined supplies, he bandaged the area as best he could, but the wound continued to weep blood.

When they awoke again, it was getting dark. Yoshi managed to pull his friend to his feet and they started south once more. They were both hungry, but there was no food. They stumbled and fell often in the darkness.

That was the pattern for the next two days as they both became increasingly weaker from lack of food. Arico's wound had started to fester and Yoshi had nothing but cold spring water to treat it.

Finally, at dawn of the third day, they came to a place on the trail where there were three standing stones. "The Three Sisters!" gasped Yoshi. "That means we're almost at the lake." Arico nodded dumbly and sank to his knees. "Please, Yoshi! Go on without me! Save yourself!"

"What nonsense! I will NOT. We will make it! We can rest here and push on tonight."

But that evening he couldn't wake his lover. His body was hot; he was burning with fever. Yoshi sobbed over his mate, but decided he had to push on. Hiding him off the trail and wrapping him in their tattered blanket, he staggered on down the trail.

Several times he fell and could hardly get up. At last he lay on the trail, completely exhausted, completely defeated. But a voice told him, "Get up! You must go on! You must save Arico!" And he managed to stagger upright and move on.

He collapsed again, but the voice drove him onward. "Get up! You must save Arico!"

But, once again, he fell to his knees, completely spent. "Get up! You must save Arico! Your friends are near!" He was still some ways back from the shoreline, still hidden among the trees.

But it was too much as he tried to struggle upward and the blackness began to consume him.

I had hoped Jan, Charlie and I might find a new and special place for our vacation that year. But, for some reason Charlie wanted to return to Lakeside. His only reason seemed to be, "Papa Jan wasn't with us last year."

I found that puzzling because he knew Jan and I had both been there with Jasper. But Charlie was adamant. Every time Jan or I suggested some other place, our son continued to ask for Lakeside. Something was going on, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. Jan said it was just Charlie's little boy stubbornness, but I thought it was more than that.

One morning we both felt a naked little body worming its way in between us… something he had not done for months. After kissing both of us, he asked, "Please Papas! We need to go to Lakeside! Please! Please!" And he looked at us so pleadingly, his expression almost haunted. Like his very life depended on it.

I had to get to the bottom of what was troubling him, but all he would say was he wanted to go back to Lakeside.

I had booked us a cabin for three and we arrived the last week in July. All the way there Charlie seemed preoccupied, almost in a trance. He was clearly not with us in in his mind. I watched him carefully for the first few days as we enjoyed all the activities Lakeside has to offer. He seemed listless.

"I feel fine," he assured me. "Just glad to be here." And he grabbed me around the waist and gave me a big hug. With the three of us together all the time, I had not had much opportunity to talk to Jan about our son's strange behavior, but I knew he was concerned, too.

Finally, Wednesday evening he again slid into bed with us and asked, "Can we go to the 'Sisters' tomorrow? I'd like to take a boat to the end of the lake and hike from there." This was a surprise as hiking was not one of his favorites. But we agreed. Maybe it would get him out of his funk.

We got some box lunches, rented a boat with a small trolling motor, stowed our hiking boots and sox in one of the watertight lockers and set out.

We were about 100 meters [a bit more than 100 yards] from our destination, when he suddenly stood up and pointed at something on the shore.

A lone figure staggered out of the trees and onto the pebbly beach falling almost at the water's edge. "Look, Papa! It's Yoshi!" cried Charlie as he jumped into the waist-deep water and splashed his way onto the shore. The implications of what he had just said struck both Jan and me like a battering ram. It took us several seconds to react.

Grounding the boat, we ran over to join him as he knelt over the prone figure and pillowed the boy's head in his lap. "Papa! It is Yoshi! And he's been hurt bad!" The evidence of his many beatings was all too plainly written on his small body. He was clearly in a bad way.

"At 'Sisters'. He very hurt!" the boy managed to gasp before falling unconscious again.

But, I sort of shook myself back to the present. "Quickly, Charlie! Let's get Yoshi into the boat. You and Jan can get him back to Lakeside and summon help while I go look for Arico."

"No! " replied our son. "I want to go with you! If he's really hurt bad, you'll need someone to help carry him."

"It's OK," added Jan. "Help me get him into the boat. I should be able to manage it." The look on his face conveyed both fright and concern.

As gently as possible, we placed the unconscious boy in the boat while Charlie struggled into his boots. Jan handed me the small first-aid kit and we pushed him off.

The hike to the Sisters usually takes about two hours, but Charlie set a blistering pace and we made it in a little over ninety minutes. Arico was nowhere to be seen. "Yoshi must have hidden him, so let's spread out. Check under trees and in thickets," I instructed.

He was lying wrapped in a tattered blanket, still alive but barely so. He was on his side and the extent of his injury could be readily seen. "My God! He's been shot!" I could feel his raging fever and see the inflamed wounds that were badly infected. Our first-aid supplies were useless.

"Charlie, see if you can find two fairly straight poles about as long as you are tall." Trying mightily not to cry, Charlie ran off to do my bidding, returning a few minutes later with two suitable ones. Stripping off our shirts, we used them to fashion a crude stretcher. Lifting Arico as gently as possible, we grasped the poles and set off down the trail.

About an hour along, an ATV with a nurse aboard came roaring up, and we were relieved of our burden. After examining Arico, she shook her head. "There's naught I can do for him here except get him back to the clinic. I don't have room for more than the boy, so you'll have to hike. I'll send a boat for you." We helped her load Arico and she sped away while Charlie and I resumed out trek back to the lake-shore.

All during the hike and the boat ride back to Lakeside, Charlie was uncharacteristically silent, mostly burying his head in his arms. When I held him, I could feel him shaking. Both of us were distraught at what had happened to our two friends, but other concerns plagued me. I simply could not accept that we appeared at the time and place where Yoshi needed us by pure coincidence. But then, how? Something was at work here and I could feel Charlie's fright and I was deeply disturbed, too. I could only imagine what Jan was feeling. But this was not the time for questions about that.

The doctor at Lakeside was blunt. "I simply don't have either the equipment or the expertise to treat the one who was so badly wounded. Gunshot, I'm sure. So I evacuated both of them to Children's in London. I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all," I assured him. "Thank you for doing what you could." Mercifully, he didn't ask us how we had come to find either boy.

Hastily throwing our gear into the car, the three of us set out for London. Charlie was still mostly mute and Jan kept staring at him with a wild look on his face. "Not now!" I cautioned him. Driving all night, we arrived late afternoon the following day.

After assuring himself we were the ones who had found his two patients and that we were good friends, the head-of-clinic, Dr. Allen, introduced himself and agreed to meet with us. "The less seriously injured one…"

"Yes, well, Yoshi is in fair condition," continued the doctor. "He's been beaten badly… with a whip, I would wager… and he's terribly malnourished. He's also been raped repeatedly. But, I think he'll recover given the proper care. At least physically. We have him on drips and I'll let you see him shortly."

"The other one, Arico," Allen sighed. "He evidently took a full charge of buckshot to the middle of his back and the infection has spread. He's also been starved and beaten and raped. I'm afraid I don't hold out much hope for him, I'm sorry to say."

"Come. I'll take you to Yoshi. We have Arico in isolation, so you can't see him quite yet."

We were escorted into a small room with a single bed and a patient surrounded by medical equipment. Yoshi looked at us blankly for a moment and then asked weakly, "Is it really you, Charlie-san? And you too, Christopher-san?"

"I'm afraid that's enough visit for today," broke in the doctor. "You can come back in the morning."

Charlie and I both kissed Yoshi gently on his forehead and the three of us left. The hospital has rooms for parents of sick kids, and we were allowed to use one of them, just a few doors down from Yoshi.

As soon as we were alone in the room, Jan rounded on Charlie. "Young man, you have some explaining to do! How did you know where to find your friend? How was it that we were there just when he needed us?"

Jan held out his arms and Charlie surrendered to them. "I'm sorry, son. But it's so strange!"

I moved over and sat beside them on the bed. "Just relax, Charlie. We're here! It's OK to be afraid, but we'll protect you." That seemed to reassure him a bit and after a while he stopped crying and continued.

"I don't know why, but I just knew we had to go to Lakeside this summer. And I just knew we had to be at the end of the lake yesterday morning. And as soon as he fell onto the beach, I knew it was Yoshi."

Jan and I both looked at our son in awe. Was he prescient? Does he receive messages from God?

After a few seconds, I tried to feebly comfort him. "Charlie, someone… maybe God… was guiding you. And you saved the lives of two dear friends, so it was good, this… whatever it was. So I don't think you need to be afraid. You've received a gift! And two good friends are alive because of it."

There were two beds in the room, so I decided to take Charlie with me; Jan was still too upset for anyone to sleep with him. We all stripped down to our undies and crawled in under the sheets. Now that he was nearly a teen, Charlie slept alone in his room most nights. But the three of us still enjoyed times together; that little naked body snuggled between us felt so good. And, yes, sometimes we did go further than just hugging. Tonight, it was good to feel his warm little body next to mine, but this was not a night for pleasure.

Sometime later I awoke and suddenly realized there was no longer a boy next to me. Sitting up, I looked over to the other bed, but Charlie wasn't there either. "Jan!" I called. "Where's Charlie? He's gone!"

We both jumped out of bed, pulled on some sweats and raced down the hall to the nurse's station. "Have you seen our son?" I asked the startled night-nurse.

"You mean the little boy with the flaming red hair?" I nodded. "Well, he's in bed with the Japanese boy… Yoshi. I'm sorry, I thought you knew. He said he had been sent to sleep with Yoshi to comfort him. It was a bit irregular, but Yoshi had been terribly restless and unable to sleep, so I helped your boy into bed so he wouldn't disturb Yoshi's drips. He just put his arm around Yoshi and they were asleep in seconds. Here. You can see them on the monitor."

Jan and I just looked at each other and then at the monitor. Sure enough there were two heads showing: one with straight, raven hair and the other with a red, unruly mop. Thanking the bewildered nurse, we beat a hasty retreat.

Back in the comfort of our room, Jan and I just held each other. "Oh God!" he sighed. "All I could think of was when Jasper disappeared."

"Me, too," I confessed. "Evidently, he's not finished being directed by whatever or whomever. But it seems to be benign, always on the lookout for his friend. We need to help him overcome his fear."

"Yeah!" agreed Jan. "I surely wasn't much help last evening. I'm ashamed of myself, popping off at him like that."

We crawled into my bed and just lay there with our arms around each other until sleep came once again.

The next morning we hurried into Yoshi's room to find Charlie and him awake and talking softly. "Good morning," Jan greeted them.

"おはよう [Ohayou - Good morning], most honoured friends," added Yoshi. "Charlie-san has been with me and I am much improved this morning. ありがとう　ございます [Arigatou gozaimasu - thank you very much] for you to allow him to sleep with me. Charlie-san say Arico much improved, also."

Both Jan and I tried hard not to look dumfounded, but before we could reply, Dr. Allen swept into the room. "Well, what have we here?" he asked looking puzzled at two bodies occupying the bed.

"Well, I have good news about Arico," asserted the doctor. "He is somewhat better this morning and I now have high hopes for him."

"すばらしい Subarashii! - That's wonderful]" added Yoshi. "Just as you said, Charlie-san!" And, once again, Jan and I could only stare at our son.

I finally found my tongue,"Come on, Charlie. Let Dr. Allen do his work." He kissed Yoshi on the cheek, carefully slid out of the bed and the three of us walked back to our room.

"I don't know," Charlie began tearfully once we were alone. "I just knew I had to go and comfort him."

Jan held out his arms again and enfolded our son. "I'm terribly sorry for how I treated you last evening. Chris and I believe that whatever is guiding you is good. We know it frightens you and we are always ready to help."

"And if it doesn't, just let us know so we won't worry about you," I managed to add.

"I will, Papa. I'm sorry if I frightened you. I should have told you from the beginning, but I was afraid you'd think me barmy." The three of us joined in a long hug. I made my mind up right then; I would never discount anything our beautiful son said or did. Jan was on the same track and we just nodded.

Yoshi was improved enough that the drips were removed and Charlie got to help his friend walk about later that day. The next day, we… all three… got to see Arico.

His fever had broken. He was still in great pain and had to be restrained on his belly. But, he acknowledged us and was alert, so we all were certain he would recover. In the hallway outside Isolation, two boys and two adults held each other and cried tears of happiness and relief.

That afternoon, a young police inspector visited Yoshi and we all sat down while he recounted the terrible ordeal they had been forced to endure.

He told us how they had been both thrown out and disowned by their parents. Since they had no place to go, they decided to try to find Jan and Charlie and me. That was thwarted when they had been captured by a man called Cartright and he forced them to be his slaves. When Yoshi described the terrible treatment they and the other slave boys had received… the starvation, the beatings, the rapes… he broke down completely and began to cry. I moved beside him and took him in my arms and just let him cry into my shoulder. Charlie, too, was in tears, so Jan took care of his needs. It was several minutes before he could continue.

But worse was to come as he gasped out the stories of the hangings and the crucifixion they were forced to participate in. Another comfort session was needed before Yoshi could continue; Charlie sat white-faced in shock at what his friend had revealed.

At last, the slave named Crom and the girl Meriso helped them to escape even though Arico was gravely wounded in the process. The trip south was harrowing.. with one of them badly wounded… and almost beyond their endurance. But the Ancestors smiled on them and they were saved.

Jan and Charlie and I simply marveled at their bravery and fortitude and we all sat there silently for some minutes. Finally, the inspector gently thanked Yoshi for his cooperation and Charlie took his friend off to see Arico. While they were gone, the inspector told Jan and me what else had happened after the two had escaped.

"As nearly as we can deduce, the girl, Meriso, apparently tried to stop Cartright from pursuing the boys and he shot her. The male slave, Crom, then fought with Cartright and shot him. When the rest of Cartright's henchmen came to see what the fuss was all about, Crom ambushed them. Then he called the authorities before turning the gun on himself."

"When the local authorities got there, it was too late to save any of them. But, more importantly, they suddenly found themselves with a large number of maltreated young slaves to deal with, so they immediately called in the Slave Authority to take charge. The Authority workers soon discovered none of the young slave boys were legitimately slaves at all. Over a period of months they had been kidnapped, usually after their parents had been killed by Cartright's thugs."

"There is compelling evidence the local authorities were bribed to look the other way, so there will be lots of questions for them to answer. In the meantime, the Authority has managed to reunite a few of the boys with their parents, but it looks like they will have about 40 orphans to deal with. And now we know what set off the bloodbath."

We thanked the inspector for filling us in and she left. Later that day, we told Yoshi and Arico and Charlie what had happened.

"Yes," sobbed Arico. "It is sad they were killed and we will honour them before the Ancestors."

For the next several days, all three of us remained at the hospital helping to tend to Yoshi and Arico. Both our friends had been seriously harmed physically… Arico almost fatally… and it would be some time before their physical wounds healed sufficiently. But, even more serious was the mental and emotional damage they had suffered at the hands of Cartright and his minions.

Yoshi was fairly stable during the day, particularly when one of us sat with him, but darkness caused all the terrors to resurface. Charlie slept with him, just holding and comforting his friend as best he could. Arico was still too injured for someone to sleep with him, so either Jan or I simply sat with him and held his hand. He seemed to be less terrorized by the darkness than his mate.

Shortly, however, both Jan and I realized we had to give some attention to our company. So, one of us returned home for a few days while the other remained in London. Then we switched and that seemed to work for a few weeks. But school would begin for Charlie in a few weeks so we viewed those arrangements as only temporary. We knew Charlie would be devastated if we forced him to leave his friends and go home.

But fate… as it usually does… took a hand in the matter. I had just arrived late one morning to begin my 'vigil' when the hospital director asked to see both of us. We immediately went to his office and found Dr. Allen there, too.

"We need to make some more permanent arrangements for your young friends," Dr. Allen told us.

"All the inquiries we've made to their parents have turned up negative," added the director. "Both keep claiming they have no sons. It's quite discouraging, but I'm afraid they have been abandoned. Yet, the Japanese ambassador has filed a writ seeking to have them repatriated. At the same time, the Slave Authority wants them. So there will have to be a court hearing."

"I've told both parties," continued Allen, "the boys are not yet well enough and both have agreed to wait until we say they are. In the meantime, we need someone to be responsible for them."

"That's right," continued the director. "Since you know them so well and they are comfortable with you and your son, would you be willing to accept a temporary guardianship for them? I'm certain we can get the court to grant such."

Jan and I looked at each other for a moment and then both nodded yes. "But we can't remain here in London much longer," Jan objected. "We both have responsibilities at our company that have been woefully neglected and our son needs to start school next week."

"There's really nothing more we can do for them here," explained Allen. "And we're sure they would be emotionally much better off in a home setting. They will both need to continue physical therapy and I'm sure there is a clinic near your home that can continue to monitor them."

I knew what our answer would be without further discussion. And having them in our house also blended with a plan Jan and I had discussed.

The guardianship papers arrived that afternoon. Evidently Allen and his boss could read minds, too.

"You won't have to," Jan explained. "We're going home and you two are coming with us. You're going to live with us for a while."

Yoshi, seeing beyond the immediate, asked, "What's going to happen to us? I mean after we are well again? We can't stay with you all the time."

I explained to them about the contending parties and the need for a court hearing.

"If we go back to our homeland," Arico said, gazing at his mate, "the Yakusa will kill us." Three frightened young boys began to cry.

"Then we'll have to make sure you can remain here," I simply said. "I'll get our solicitor working on it right away. He's a retired Chief Justice and he'll know how to make that happen. I'm sure you will be allowed to stay here, but…"

"If you remain here, you will be considered abandoned children and taken into care," explained Jan. "It's only for two years."

"That's just a fancy way of saying they will be slaves," wailed Charlie. "Even if it's only for two years, they don't deserve that. They've done nothing wrong."

Arico looked at his mate, "Yoshi, I can take it if we are slaves again. If we have a cruel master, there is always seppuku."

I knew the term and was chilled. There was no way Jan or I would ever let that come to pass. Before I could speak, our loving son beat me to the punch.

What else could we possibly have done? I was my interference that had partly caused their dilemma! I had a moral responsibility here and I knew Jan felt that just as strongly as I did. Besides, they were beautiful boys, brave, compassionate, intelligent… all the things any family wanted for its young. "Guys, if you are made slave, Jan and I will be you masters, I promise you."

While his two stunned friends looked on in awe, Charlie nearly buried us in hugs and kisses.

Our old friend, Dr. Hartley, would assume the care of the boys and he never wanted for help. Charlie spent every moment of his free time helping to care for them. And, it wasn't long before Yoshi was well enough to help around the house. Somewhere along the line, he had picked up cooking skills and we ate better… oriental style… than we had for a long time.

There were two rooms that connected to Charlie's and they became a suite: three beds in the one room for sleeping… two of them saw little use… a study room… we started Yoshi and Arico on home study materials… and the final one as sort of a lounge where all three could 'chill out'. Right from the start, we respected their privacy; a closed door meant keep out please; a door left ajar meant Jan or I could peek in and we frequently gazed at the three sleeping teens… all in one bed.

Their physical wounds were healing swiftly, although Arico would walk with crutches for many months. The gunshot had injured the base of his spine and pelvis and the infection had caused further damage. But he was determined to recover fully.

It was their emotional damage that caused us all the most anguish. Freed from the orderly regimen of the hospital, the two at first retrogressed somewhat. Although he had been their leader up to now, Yoshi seemed far more disturbed than his mate and Arico… despite having been much more seriously hurt… assumed the leadership role.

We kept them busy during the day with studies, therapy and chores, but the night held unresolved terrors for them. The first night both of them… in fact all five of us… were so exhausted from the trip home, we all slept like the dead. The next night was a different matter.

Charlie insisted he was going to sleep with one of them until they could all sleep together and Jan and I knew better than to try to change that. Arico had had his first really painful therapy session that afternoon, so Charlie would be his bedmate the night.

Shortly after midnight the whole house was rudely aroused by Yoshi's shrill scream, NO! I WON'T! CAN NOT MAKE ME!"

Jan and I dashed into their room to find Charlie gamely trying to subdue his wildly struggling friend while Arico lay on his belly, shaking like a leaf. Yoshi had wet the bed… and our son… and cringed when either Jan or I tried to help. "PLEASE NOT WHIP ME!" he screamed and then launched into a torrent of Japanese, all at the top of his lungs. Charlie finally got hold of him and threw him down upon his wet bed and Yoshi at last woke up.

I held a weeping Yoshi while Jan stripped and remade his bed and Charlie and I went off with him for a shower. With both of us tenderly rubbing our thoroughly terrorized boy, Yoshi gradually calmed down and was asleep once more as we carried him back into their room. Jan had comforted Arico in our absence and he, too, was asleep once more. I wanted to take Charlie with me, but he was having none of that. He had assigned himself a task and that was that.

The next morning, a completely ashamed Yoshi appeared at the breakfast table. "Please most honourable friends. I very ashamed from last night. I wash bedding, but feel very bad at my words and tears."

"But I dream I drive nails into Charlie-san!" he began to weep. "Arico-san beat me with whip when I refuse. We made to help hang boy on cross. How can boy ever forgive?" The thing that had hurt him the most was now out in the open. It was the one terrible act that he was having great difficulty forgiving himself for.

"We all know you would never hurt Charlie. Or Arico," I told him. "And you were forced to hurt that boy! He knew that and I am sure he forgives you."

"When I first came to live with papas, I cried, too," Charlie told him. "I was frightened they would hurt me. But they didn't and I began to love them. And you will, too. Just give yourself time and let the hurt and sorrow come out."

Where had our son learned about psychiatry? About counseling? Are those subjects taught in school these days?

But that was just the beginning. Many nights, one or the other of our guests had nightmares and Charlie coped with them with a little help from Jan or me. But he grieved for his friends and the hurt they had received and often needed my arms after a particularly bad night.

"All you can do is love them and show that you care. They will be ok," I assured him. "They need to talk with someone they love about what happened. If they seem to want it, offer your body. Do the things you did together at Lakeside. And remember, Jan and I are here to help over the really rough spots."

"Thank you, Papa. I just feel so bad when I see them so frightened or sad. It's tough!"

Gradually, the terrors became less immediate for them and nights became peaceful once more. The sounds of love from their bedchamber were easily recognizable. One night the door was slightly ajar and Jan reported he observed a hot 'sixty-nine' for a few moments. Had Charlie deliberately wanted us to know how deeply they felt for each other? If so, both Jan and I got the message… this was serious love! Gradually, they… all three… were acting like compassionate and loving boys again.

Except for the problems Arico still had with his back and pelvis, they were physically almost healed. They had both regained some weight and were once again the beautiful young men Charlie and I had met at Lakeside.

The subject of 'masters' and 'slaves' was a frequent topic of conversation; completely appropriate since we… should things work out as we hoped… would shortly have two young slaves to manage. Jan and I had already decided what Charlie's role was to be in that relationship.

He pressed us with questions about how we would manage Yoshi and Arico, what kind of masters we would be to them, even though he thought Jan or I would be their masters. How did one become a good master?

"The most important skill is to be able to know what your slave is thinking," I answered his question.

"And what your slave is feeling," added Jan. "To do that you must understand what it really means to be a slave."

"Do you remember Danny, Uncle Timo's son?" Charlie nodded. "Do you remember how his father taught him what it really meant to be a slave?"

"Yeah! He made him Uncle Marcus's slave for real!" He looked at Jan and me with concern. "Are you going to do that to me?"

"No, Charlie," Jan answered. "You have two very good friends who will help you understand. Danny didn't have a good friend who was a slave, but I know he has taught his best friend Billy all about it. Besides, you were once a slave for a very short time. Your master was cruel and almost killed you. Do you remember how you felt?"

"That was a long time ago, but I remember how scared and sad I was. But Danny once told me the time he spent with Uncle Marcus was a good time; that he learned a lot and he even enjoyed it.

"Did you have a kind master or was he cruel like Master Cartright?" asked Yoshi.

It was a tough question to answer, but I did the best I could. "He was very strict, but he was determined to keep us safe. He could beat us unmercifully, but he also loved us very much and we loved him. He could be very cruel; in fact, his cruelty drove two of our number to take their own lives."

"We were all serving life sentences, but when he found out that one of us was his son… the one Charlie calls Uncle Marcus… he had him set free. And together, they worked very hard for a long time to free the rest of us. Only Michael still remains a slave. So was he a cruel master? Yes, at times. Was he a good master? Yes, at times. But above all, he loved all of us dearly and would have given his own life to save any of us from harm."

"That's the test of a good master," added Jan. "Are the lives of his slaves every bit as precious as his own?"

We celebrated the Holidays quietly. Christmas is a big secular holiday in Japan, but it was their first experience with the spiritual aspect of our celebration, minimal as that was in our house. Jan and I were both shocked when they asked to go to the Christmas Eve service at the Cathedral. Neither Jan nor I had ever set foot in a church service, but I must admit Christmas took on a much deeper and more satisfying meaning that year. All three boys were entranced by the music and pageantry… and so were Jan and I.

Especially the gorgeous little choirboys in their white surplices and big red bows.

I had to chuckle. Neither of us could sing worth a brass farthing. Singing was not one of the slave skills that Mike had paid any heed to. But it set me to thinking. There had been one of us who could sing… beautifully. But Julian hadn't made it to freedom, at least in this world.

It also made me stop and think about the 'gifts' Jan and I had been given. Most important was that we had found each other and were freed from the awful slavery we had experienced. Then there was Jasper. Yes his life with us had ended tragically. But we had, at last, made peace with the idea that we had provided love and joy in the life of a little boy for a time.

And Charlie! Beautiful Charlie! All boy and all ours! With a love for us that was truly awesome. Yeah, that word is overused, but that's what his love for us is. I found, too, I was, at last, at peace with the notion that perhaps it had been God who had guided him on his quest to save his friends. Now, if the clergy could just find it in themselves to stop denigrating our lifestyle……well, that would be a gift to lots of people.

The gifts we gave each other were not physical… things like love, trust and compassion were much more important. But, at their request, we had provided our guests with ink and brushes so they could continue working on their calligraphy. It might help them to regain the sense of who they are.

So Jan and I were thrilled when the two of them presented us with an elaborately decorated scroll. Yoshi translated for us.

The day before the hearing, Sir Robert, our solicitor, called with good news. The hearing judge would be Hon Penelope Middleton… or Pippa as she was informally known. "Yes, she is the Queen's sister," he assured us, "but has earned her place on the civil bench by dint of hard work. We could not have asked for a better judge. She's tough but compassionate and has never been reversed. Most plaintiffs or defendants appearing before her simply saw it as a waste of time and money to lodge an appeal."

We did our best to prepare all three boys for what we expected to happen and assured Yoshi and Arico that, although they would have to serve a period of slavery, we would be their owners.

"We will buy you if we have to spend every last penny we have." I'm not sure who was most excited to hear that statement, Charlie or the two.

Jan had dressed the two boys simply in just shirts and shorts. If what we hoped came about, near the end of the hearing, they would be naked and shackled and we made sure they were ready for that eventuality. But Charlie was incensed! "Why do they have to be humiliated?"

I explained that it was custom and largely 'for show' but that didn't seem to mollify him. "Just make sure you behave and don't cause the judge any discomfort," I told him. "We can't afford to antagonize her in any way." I was sure he understood, but he was prepared to take any unkindness to his two friends very personally. I wasn't at all sure how he would react if Pippa found for the Japanese and repatriated the two. For that matter, I wasn't sure how I would react.

We entered the courtroom and took our places at the defendant's table. A very proper Japanese man sat in the plaintiff's area. Since this was not really a trial, Sir Robert would act as the boys' counsel.

The bailiff entered and intoned, "Hear ye! Hear ye! The civil bench of the chancery court for Richmond is now in session, the honourable Penelope Middleton, presiding. All persons having business before said court are admonished to draw near that ye may be heard!"

Pippa swept in, took her place and greeted us with an informal, "Good morning! I see by the docket that we have several petitions to address. The first is from the Emperor of Japan for the repatriation of two of his subjects. I see you are here, Mr. Saito, so why don't you begin."

"Thank you, your honour. If it please the court, the treaty of friendship between our two great empires requires that… absent any criminal charges… any subject of his divine majesty who is unavoidably stranded here must be swiftly repatriated. Two young boys, Yoshi Moromatsu and Arico Igashi, were held against their wills by a subject of your empire, and must be speedily returned to their homeland."

"Thank you Mr. Saito. Well, Sir Robert, I'm surprised to see you as counsel and I welcome you and await your pleasure."

"Thank you, your honour. Mr. Saito is quite correct. The young men have been held against their wills and have now been freed. But if they are returned to Japan, they will be almost certainly killed. Under the customs of their society, they have committed a serious breach of behavior… professing their love for each other… and will be required to atone for that."

Saito shifted uncomfortably. "In our society, the love of two males for each other against the wishes of their families is severely punished. They will be required to atone for their misdeeds."

"So, if I understand correctly," said the judge, "if they are returned to Japan, they will be required to commit ritual suicide?"

At Sir Robert's prompting, Yoshi and Arico both rose and stood before the judge.

"If I should rule in favor of the Empire of Japan, would you actually be willing to do this terrible act?" she asked.

Yoshi swallowed, but gamely replied, "Yes, most honourable judge. In the olden days our families were Samurai and we are bound by their code."

I had been trying to control Charlie's mounting terror, but he suddenly slipped out of my grasp and ran screaming up to the bench. "NO! YOU CAN'T SEND THEM BACK. THEY WILL DIE!" And he fell on his knees sobbing.

Pippa looked over her bench down at him with an angry expression. But, then it softened. "Stand up young man."

"Charles, I assure you that I will rule fairly and according to the law. Now just stand there and listen."

Charlie nodded and glanced back at me. I was about to object, but Sir Robert forestalled me. "Don't be alarmed," he whispered. "She knows exactly what she's doing."

"Mr. Saito, you are undoubtedly familiar with a clause in said treaty that denies repatriation if the defendant is likely to suffer bodily harm. It seems to me that being forced to disembowel one's self comes under the heading of bodily harm."

Turning to the boys, she asked, "If you remain here, you will fall under the Child Welfare Acts and be taken into care. That means you will have to serve at least two years enslaved. Are you prepared to do that?"

Both Yoshi and Arico looked her squarely in the eye and replied, "Yes, your honour."

It was quiet for a few moments. Then she spoke. "Mr. Saito, you have represented your government very ably and I commend you for that. But your petition is denied. The boys will remain here."

The three boys stood before the bench and hugged each other, tears of joy running down their faces, as John Knox from the Slave Authority took his place at the plaintiff's table.

"If you three can break off your love-in," the judge admonished them, "we have other business to conduct. Mr. Knox?"

"Thank you your honour. Since the two boys, Yoshi and Arico, are to remain here and have been abandoned by their parents, they now fall under the provisions of Child Welfare Acts as amended. I, therefore, petition the court to designate them as Class Two Slaves, to serve an initial indenture of not less than two years."

"Very well, Mr. Knox, your petition is in order and I shall approve it. Bailiff, please prepare the defendants for their terms as Class Two Slaves. And you, my excitable friend," she addressed Charlie, "will assist him."

Under the bailiff's direction, Charlie had to strip his two friends. "It's OK. We can take this," whispered Arico to him. They held their hands behind their backs while Charlie cuffed them and then applied shackles to their ankles, crying visibly. Finally the bailiff showed him how to collar them and chain them together. Satisfied they were now well and truly enslaved, he stood back, drawing Charlie with him.

Knox came forward, took hold of their chains and was about to depart when Pippa stopped him. "Tarry a bit longer, Mr. Knox. I have an offer to purchase them."

"The offer reads, 'I Jan Dantz and I, Christopher Dantz, being free citizens of our sovereign William, acting for our minor son, Charles Smith Dantz, wish to purchase two slaves, Yoshi Moromatsu and Arico Igashi as servants for his health and well-being. We shall stand in surety for him until he shall reach his majority.' You've outdone yourself, Sir Robert! Petitioners, will you please come forward."

"Mr. Knox," she replied, "I'm sure their stay with the late Master Cartright taught them all they will ever need to know about being subservient slaves. What more can you possibly teach them?"

"Your honour," Knox blustered, "we have had serious expenses for their hospital care."

"John, don't be greedy," Pippa answered him. "You have upwards of forty other boys from the Cartright débâcle that you will be able to sell at a handsome profit. My price stands. Sold."

Knox chuckled and he sat down again. Yoshi and Arico immediately turned toward Charlie and dropped into their 'positions of respect'.

"You mean they're mine?" squeaked our son. "They belong to me? I'm their master?"

"And you'll have to whip them, if they don't behave," added Jan. He could be unintentionally cruel at times, too.

"No!" wailed our son. "I can't whip them! They're my friends!" He stood there almost in tears, his lower lip trembling. Then he fell to his knees and reached for his two slaves. "I won't beat you! You're my friends! I didn't want it to be this way! You've got to believe me!" he bawled.

I glared at Jan who looked sheepish. But, then I had a thought. Charlie was as sad as I had ever seen him; and scared, too. Is that what Marcus must have felt when our master made him beat us? I had hated him when he had beaten me and made me run so I guess I had never thought about how he had felt. Poor Charlie! Sir Robert was quite right, Pippa knew exactly what she was doing… teaching our son some unpleasant truths that Jan and I had, perhaps, tried to shelter him from.

"Have your fathers never told you that sometimes grown-ups must do things that make them very sad? Sometimes things that hurt, even those whom they love?"

"Charles," she continued, " I very much doubt you'll ever have to beat them. But you must be willing to be a strong master to them and sometimes force them to do things that they would rather not do or things that make you sad. So there are times you must be their master and other times when you may be their friend. And sometimes, both at once. It's not easy, but I'm sure your fathers will help you."

"The position they are in now is how they will greet any free person. They will not rise and speak until you tell them to do so."

Charlie looked at her and nodded again. Then he asked, "Do they have to wear chains all the time."

"Not unless you want them to. But until you get them home, yes. Now, you had better tell them to rise and speak or they will stay that way forever," she added.

The two slaveboys rose, bowed to the judge and turned to face their young master.

Arico spoke, "Master we pledge we will be loyal and faithful slaves and serve you willingly for as long as you are our master." Sir Robert had obviously been doing a little coaching.

Charlie stood there his face a mask of conflicting emotions. "What do you have to say to them?" Pippa verbally nudged him.

Our son was quiet for a moment. "I pledge to take good care of you and to be kind to you. I will always be your friend and your master." And he put his arms about both boys.

"Well said, young Charles," acknowledged Pippa. "I think you'll be a good master to them… with some help." This last was directed to Jan and me.

"Now, Sir Robert has just handed me still another petition to consider. If the five of you will simply stand here together, I'll consider it." Jan and I advanced and gathered the three boys while she read. "My, you have been busy, Sir Robert."

"I, Jan Dantz," she read, "and I, Christopher Dantz, being free subjects of our sovereign William, and acting for our minor son, Charles Smith Dantz, wish, when their statutory period of enslavement is satisfied, to dissolve the bonds of slavery between our minor son and Yoshi Moromatsu and Arico Igashi and adopt them as our legal sons and heirs, to be known henceforth as Yoshi Moromatsu Dantz and Arico Igashi Dantz."

Charlie looked first and me and then at Jan, completely thunderstruck at what the judge had just read. "Y-y-you mean they w-w-w-will be my brothers?" I nodded and he just buried his face in my chest and wept tears of joy and excitement. "Oh, Papa! That is the most wonderful…" He simply couldn't go on.

"Well, one of you certainly seems happy," observed Pippa. "But the two subjects are at an age where their wishes must be considered." Looking down at the two chained slaves she said, "Forget for the moment you are slaves and answer me as if you were free boys. Do you wish to be adopted by Jan and Christopher Dantz."

Yoshi finally found his voice. "Oh yes, honourable judge, but is gift we do not deserve. Is too great a thing to ask of Jan-san and Christopher-san."

"We hope to be free boys," added Arico, "but never in wildest fantasy did we think to be their sons. We just poor boys with no family and not honourable enough."

I held both boys by their shoulders, "Yoshi and Arico, you have been cruelly and unfairly abandoned by your birth families who simply could not understand your deep love for each other. But you did not let that overcome you and tried to seek a new life."

"You were held illegally by one of our citizens and subjected to cruelty and abuse such that Jan and I can only guess. But you were determined to come to us even at almost the cost of your lives. And these past several months have demonstrated anew your love for Jan, for Charlie, and for me."

"You have shown courage and determination that we can only imagine. What family could ask for more? Will you honour us by being our sons… and Charlie's brother?"

"I'll accept that as affirmative," announced Pippa. "Therefore, I will grant this petition with one small proviso. Inasmuch these two boys were sorely and illegally abused by a free subject of this realm, I declare the statutory period of enslavement as having been met and both the manumission and adoption valid as of this date."

Now five mouths stood open. Out of the corner of my eye, I observed a chuckling Sir Robert. He had expected this turn of events all along. Had he orchestrated it? I didn't want to know.

"Young Charles," the judge addressed him. "It is unseemly for free boys to be shackled as if they were slaves. My bailiff seems to be elsewhere occupied, so would you be so kind as to strike the fetters from these two free boys?" And she handed him the key.

Jan and I watched with pride while our son freed his new brothers. Sir Robert had been right; Pippa knew exactly what she was doing. She grinned at us and we grinned back.

The ride home in Sir Robert's car was rather quiet as we all struggled to come to grips with what had taken place. Three boys sat in back, arms about each other and Jan and I sat in front holding hands.

As we were about to pull in to our lane, Yoshi suddenly asked, "Christopher-san, now that we are your sons, what shall we call you?"

Epilog

Their 'suite' provided study room for all three… complete with computers and other essentials where they could work together or separately in privacy. The privacy also led to 'other activities', too. What else could we expect? They were healthy teenagers. Both Jan and I had made our position quite clear… their bodies were their own… to be shared as each saw fit.

So it was not a surprise when one evening… they had been with us about two months… Charlie came to us with an announcement.

"Papas, you told me one day I would find the person with whom I want to spend my life. Well, I have."

Charlie ignored his mirth, he was deadly serious. "That's the problem," he answered wistfully, "there are two of them."

I beckoned him to sit beside me and put my arm around his shoulder. "Yoshi and Arico would make fine mates," I assured him. "And, once you are of age, you may live together however you wish."

"And know that we will always love you and support your decision." chimed in my sometimes slightly dense lover.

Charlie gave each of us a long hug and then withdrew. Were those tears I saw in his eyes?

A few days earlier, Bill Gates had called to congratulate us about our new sons and to inform us he had set up trust funds for them as well. "Just don't adopt too many more," he joked. "I can't afford it!"

But nothing prepared us for the package that arrived for Arico the following week.

It arrived by courier and was heavily wrapped and insured. Tearing open the wrapping, Arico looked at the contents and gasped. Turning to the rest of us, he mutely showed us the contents. It was a beautifully worked medallion about 4" [10 cm] across… gold with carefully inlaid enamel and precious stones. At the sight of it, Yoshi, too, was struck dumb.

After some moments Arico managed to find his voice, "This is our family monshou [coat of arms]! No family has ever sent their monshou away from the homeland before."

There was a beautifully inscribed letter with it that he read and then translated for us.

"Do not be sad, my lover. He was, as was said, an evil man. I am fortunate to have you and, together, we are fortunate to have this family. The ancestors have ordained it so."

The end,

Monsters in Scotland

While Jan, Yoshi and Arico are traveling in Japan, Chris and Charlie take a vacation in Scotland. It lasts a bit longer and is much more dangerous than they had anticipated.

Jan and Chris, former slaves, now successful businessmen; Charlie (13yo), Yoshi and Arico (15yo), their sons; Lord Macbeth.
Mt tt – slave non-cons oral anal – castr
Warning: includes killing of boys and girls

The summer they turned fifteen, Arico wanted to visit the land of his birth with Yoshi to see if he could rekindle ties with their now mutual family… Yoshi had been recognized by Arico's birth father as a legitimate mate for Arico. Jan agreed to accompany them, and, because of the continuing danger of assassination by the Yakusa, Sir Robert secured his appointment as 'Ambassador Extraordinary'. It was generally agreed by both governments even the Yakusa would hesitate to attack an accredited diplomat traveling with his sons. They would be gone for two months.

While they were gone I decided to explore Scotland with Charlie. Setting out by auto, we first visited all the well-known spots. Our 'bed and breakfast' in Stirling was a fine spot from which to explore Edinburgh, Glasgow, St Andrews, Pitlochry and others before heading into the 'Highlands'.

Northwest of the town of Kinloch Rannoch, we came upon another small loch, Ericht, with an imposing castle and a small village along the shore. The road signs identified it as the seat of Lord Macbeth… he of Shakespeare's writings… and I was intrigued. We didn't really expect to meet his lordship, but we could, at least, claim we visited him.

The day was what the Scots call 'a magic day'… sunshine, blue skies, no wind… so we stopped, intending a short cruise on the loch, before pushing onward. Inquiries soon yielded us a small boat with a trolling motor. We were told to avoid the area near some caves on the north shore… dangerous sunken rocks we were told… but no other instructions were forthcoming.

Once out on the loch, we simply let the currents take us where they would. It was a warm day, and Charlie shed his shirt and sat in the prow in just his cut-offs and trainers. Sitting in the stern, I just marveled at the display of healthy young teen before me. Was this the little boy who came to us only five years ago? Yes, it was, but he was now more beautiful than ever.

He was still small for his age, but slim and well-muscled, his light skin color neatly framing his shock of unruly, red hair. Tears formed in my eyes as I thought about all the sparkle and excitement he had added to Jan's and my lives.

The sun was high and his skin was sensitive, so I proceeded to apply some screen to the exposed parts. His arms and legs and his chest now had a fine dusting of red hair which made the skin feel like brushed velvet as I ran my hands over his body.

He giggled… he might be a teen but still loved being caressed by his papa. And I? I wanted to take him in my arms and ravish him.

We drifted aimlessly for a while. "Papa, it so nice and peaceful! Can't we stay here forever?" he joked. Be careful what you ask for!

We were quite some ways out from the 'forbidden' caves when he spotted something floating toward us. It had seemed to come from out of the cave. As the object floated closer we made a horrifying discovery!

It was the naked body of a young girl about ten or eleven, floating face up as though asleep, her blond hair a halo around her head. A thin trail of blood from where her throat had been cut gave lie to the idea she had died of an accident. Charlie gazed at the scene and turned to me with horror, "Papa! She's been murdered!"

Lifting the girl gently into the boat, we paddled furiously back toward the village, the trolling motor seeming inadequate. On the way, we spotted four other naked bodies… three boys and another girl… all that same age, all with their throats cut.

Grounding our vessel on the pebbly beach, I told my son, "Charlie, go find the constable and bring him. I'll try to find the boatman." He took off at a run, but I was unable to find anyone at all. The whole town appeared deserted, so I decided to join him.

I entered the police post just in time to hear Charlie exclaim, "You mean you know about the bodies? About the murdered kids?"

"No." Having said that, the officer reached into his desk drawer, removed a strange pistol and shot Charlie in the chest.

With a dart as it turned out. Charlie crumpled to the floor. Before I could even move, he darted me as well.

When I, at last, struggled back to consciousness, I was lying on a canvass pallet. The room was dark, the only light from a barred window in the door. Some kind of cell I realized. I saw a second pallet a short distance away and on it lay my son, still out. Suddenly I realized we were both naked and chained by our ankles.

My chain was long enough that I thought I could reach him, so I carefully tried to stand and fell flat on my face. I rolled on my side out of breath and let the swimming images once more resolve themselves before I tried crawling to him.

Just as I almost reached him, he started to come out of it. At first, he thrashed around and whimpered, clearly completely disoriented. I reached out to him and managed to pull him into my arms. As I tried to sooth him… "It's all right Charlie! I'm here!"… he clung to me shaking with fright.

"I don't know, son. We must have done something to arouse their ire. I think it might have something to do with those bodies. I suspect we were not to have seen them."

"Those poor kids," he bawled. "Murdered! And we found them! Oh Papa, what's going to happen to us. Will they cut my throat, too?"

I thought, "The bodies we had seen were all kids about ten years old and Charlie was several years older, so that might save him." "I don't think so. We'll just have to be brave and see what happens." "Easier said than done."

"So am I, son! So am I!" He lay in my arms and gradually stopped shaking. After a while, we both dozed, shaking off the rest of whatever they had used on us.

A short time later, the cell door rattled open and a naked slave placed two bowls of something on the floor where we could reach them and withdrew. I was a porridge of some sort, not much taste, but at least it was filling. I hadn't realized how hungry we both were.

After eating, we lay together quietly trying to comfort each other. The light from the door faded and it looked like we might be here for the night.

But, suddenly, it was thrust open and a burly man carrying a lantern entered, accompanied by two naked slaves carrying what I would soon learn were cattle prods. The man was dressed all in leather with a black mask covering his head and torso.

"I am the Dungeon Master," he told us. "His lordship wishes for you to be properly disciplined for your breach of our customs." Producing a key, he unlocked the chains from our ankles. Charlie immediately crawled to me and I held him tightly.

"Come here, boy," the Dungeon Master ordered gruffly. I could guess what might be coming, but we were in no position to resist. The brute dropped his shorts revealing his enormous prick. "Go down on it boy."

"No! Please don't make him do that!" I pleaded, starting to rise. One of the attendants touched his prod to my chest and the next thing I remember was rolling around on the cold floor in agony.

My head finally cleared enough to hear Charlie beg, "Please! I'll do anything you want! Just don't hurt Papa again!" He took the prick into his mouth and soon had the Dungeon Master gasping with pleasure. All I could do was to look on in shock.

When Charlie was finished, he slumped to the floor and I hoped the bastard was finished with us for the night. But, we weren't so fortunate. "You did such a good job on me," chortled our 'host', "now do your father!"

In all the years Charlie had been with us, Jan and I had never had oral sex with him. He was a free boy and our son! But, threatened by the prod, he obediently crawled over to me and took me into his mouth. The shame I felt was overpowering.

At first, I felt nothing but revulsion. But, he was really good at it and lust soon seized me. I gave up my seed to him and then curled into a ball and cried.

After a while, I became aware that our visitors had departed and Charlie was gently caressing me. I rolled over and took him in my arms once more. "Oh Charlie!" was all I could sob.

"Then, don't be ashamed. I've wanted to do that for a long time. I wanted you to know how much I love you. I wanted it to feel good!" What could I say to that?

The next day was more of the same… porridge and waiting… trying to keep our spirits up.

That night, our trio arrived with a small, padded table. They shackled me to the wall, upright and forced Charlie over the table. I knew what was going to happen and I begged and pleaded. The answer was another touch with the prod and I hung there screaming.

My head cleared to the sound of Charlie screaming as he was being held down and cruelly raped by the Dungeon Master.

He didn't cry much, but I could tell he was devastated and I tried to help him over his anguish. "I'm dirty! I'm unclean!" he wailed.

"It's OK, son. I know it hurts. I know you feel ashamed and unclean. But you're still my son, my beautiful son and nothing can change that. And nothing on earth can make me stop loving you." It was a sad and painful night for both of us, but the next morning things began to change.

About mid-morning two teen-aged slaves removed us from our cell and took us up to a room on the second level of the castle. We were fed a good meal and allowed to take showers. I found clean clothing laid out for me, but none for Charlie. When I questioned the slave about this, I was told that Lord Macbeth likes all young boys to be naked. That was certainly a clue to what we might be facing. But, I was careful not to hint to my son about my misgivings.

Just before dinner time, two more slaves… older than the ones previous… came in and affixed collars to both of us. "Do not attempt to remove them or you will die," they cautioned us. I recognized the design. They were one of our licensed products; designed for use in controlling large, dangerous animals. They were never intended for use on humans. Our licensee had obvious made unauthorized modifications to our original.

When triggered, the collar would slowly contract, strangling the wearer unless it was stopped. It had a 'fail-safe' that was automatically triggered if the wearer tried to tear it loose or someone else not authorized attempted to remove it.

We were then taken to dinner. Charlie had to go naked as I was assured we could not refuse the lord's invitation.

Lord Macbeth rose to greet us as we entered the dining room. "Welcome, Mr. Dantz! I apologize for the rough treatment you received from my Dungeon Master, but it was necessary." I managed to control my anger and refrained from making a reply; it would not be good to anger this man as it was clear… from the collars and his off-hand greeting… I wasn't dealing with a wholly rational person.

"Come, come, Mr. Dantz. Please be seated. You are my guests and it is only fair you should be able to become acquainted with your new home. Enjoy your dinner."

Charlie and I took the seats he had indicated with some trepidation. The food was OK, but not outstanding: a thick soup and bread.

After we had finished eating, Macbeth leaned back in his chair and studied us for a minute.

"You are probably wondering why I have kept you here," our host began. "Usually visitors come and go the same day, but that will not be the case with the two of you. Unfortunately you saw some things that outsiders are not supposed to see."

Charlie had watched our exchanged with mounting concern. "But our friends and families will look for us."

"Child, I have taken care of that," Macbeth assured him. "Your auto will be discovered on the moors many miles from here, out of petrol. It will appear that you wondered out on the moors seeking help and will become one of the many who were lost in its vastness and never found. In time, your families and friends will accept your tragic loss."

This egomaniac really meant it. I could see the look of horror on Charlie's face. "Well, we'll just walk off and hike to the nearest town."

"Yes, isn't that convenient," chuckled Macbeth. "I did some research while you were occupied in the dungeon. And it appears you designed them, Mr. Dantz. Every person in my domain over ten years of age… save my Boatman, my Steward, and my Dungeon Master… wears one. And it keeps them all subservient. Just as you will be. And I will demonstrate it for your son."

"That's not necessary," I assured him with mounting concern. "I know how they work"

"Yes, but the boy doesn't and it's important he knows and understand what his limits are." He rang a bell and told the slave who appeared, "Send Jamie in."

A few moments later a young slaveboy appeared. I guessed him to be about eleven years old.

From his pocket, Macbeth retrieved a small device about the size of TV remote. "Good bye, Jamie," he said as he pushed one of the buttons on it. The tray fell to the floor as the boy began to claw at his throat and scream. The scream soon turned into a strangled gurgle as the collar crushed his windpipe.

I tried to shield Charlie from the scene, but not successfully. We both watched in absolute horror as the boy fell to his knees and then pitched over onto his side, his whole body convulsing. His legs kicked briefly and then were still.

"So your see," continued our host in a bored tone, "escape is quite impossible. There is an electronic fence around my domain. If you try to cross it, your collar will trigger. I can trigger it with this little box, also. And you have already been warned about trying to remove your collar. You are dismissed! Return to your room and consider what I have told you. There is no escape. You are mine for the rest of your lives."

We were escorted back to our rooms. And as soon as the slave had left us, Charlie flew into my arms. "Papa! What are we going to do? Papa Jan and Yoshi and Arico will think we are dead. And we'll never see them again."

"Charlie, I promise you we will get away from here," I assured him. "This lord is a mad-man! There must be some way to escape. And we will be with our family again!"

We spent the rest of that night consoling each other and coming to grips with what Macbeth had decreed.

"There is a widespread belief that a dragon lurks beneath the waters of our loch. A dragon which must be fed periodically. And it serves my purpose to encourage that belief. It provides me with a way to enforce my rule and also keeps the population in check. We are not a rich holding and must work hard to feed and clothe ourselves."

"When a child of either sex reaches ten years of age, it is presented to me. If it is a first child of that family, the child receives his collar, and is marked as mine and returned to his family to live a normal life."

"If the family already has a child, some decisions are necessary. If it is a girl, she is almost always sent to the dragon; I have very few girl slaves. If it is a boy and I am in need of new slaves, the parents may choose to send him to the dragon or have him enslaved. In the latter case, the boy receives his collar and is then castrated before starting his training. He lives in my household to serve me and my guests and has no contact with persons outside, especially his parents. After twenty years of satisfactory service, the slave may be released to live out his life with his family."

The whole explanation was delivered so dispassionately I wondered if this man had any feelings whatsoever.

We didn't see Macbeth for several days and were confined to our rooms. Charlie's growing sense of panic troubled me, but the most I could do was to assure him we would escape somehow.

Then, one day we were summoned to lunch again and our host announced, "I have decided what to do with you both. The boy will become one of my house slaves and you, my reluctant guest, will be my chief engineer."

When I refused, he rang for a slave and told him, "Prepare the boy to be a slave." Before I could even open my mouth, Charlie was dragged screaming from the room.

I knew what Macbeth's command meant and I threw myself on my knees before him. "Please, milord. Don't do that to him. I'll do whatever you wish. Just don't cut him! Please don't cut him!"

Macbeth let me grovel for a few minutes and then picked up the phone. "Don't cut the boy! Just make him smooth," he directed.

Yes, I had capitulated! But I wasn't about to let them make a eunuch out of my beautiful son. Not if I could help it. At least as Macbeth's 'engineer' I could learn how his system was put together and, perhaps, either sabotage it or figure a way around it.

I waited nervously in our room all afternoon. Would Macbeth keep his word? Finally, about dark, they brought Charlie to me. He fell into my arms sobbing, "They took my pubes!" he wailed. "I'll never have any! I'll never be a man; I'll always be a little boy!" They had permanently removed every hair on his body except for his head. But his parts were intact.

For many boys, two occurrences mark the end of childhood and the beginning of young manhood… their first ejaculation and the growth of their first pubes. Charlie had already passed both milestones, but the loss of his pubes was a huge psychological blow to him. In truth, he did now look like a much younger boy. "Son," I told him, "you are a brave, courageous young teen and you will be an outstanding man. Never fear!"

But, that didn't seem to help much and, from that point onward, I could see him beginning to retrogress.

Usually he was assigned to duties about the castle and returned to me each late afternoon not much worse for the wear. But, one afternoon he disappeared completely and I was fearful something had happened to him.

Macbeth sneered at my anxiety, "Don't worry! He's not being harmed. Just learning some of the realities of life here." As it turned out, Macbeth's definition of 'harm' was quite a bit different than mine.

At last Charlie returned. His red-rimmed eyes and tear stains told me that he had been subjected to an emotionally wrenching time. At first, he didn't want to tell me about it and I didn't press him; he would tell me when he was ready. He was a 'dinner server' that night… a softly weeping one.

"Papa!" he bawled. "He made me go out with the Boatman. He said it would teach me to be brave! We had to go to where the kids' bodies were and tie weights to them so they would sink. I couldn't help it! I just cried and cried!"

"They were just little kids! They didn't deserve to die like that! When I tried to hold one of them in my arms, Boatman said, 'Don't fash yeself, little one. They are gone and you can't help them. Just strive to keep yeself and yer dad alive.' But he didn't try to stop me from crying."

I held him close and just listened. What could I possibly say? Unburdening himself seemed to calm him and shortly he fell into a tortured sleep. I put him to bed and then set about trying to calm myself. How many kids could even have survived such a task? No, my son didn't need to be taught bravery!

And that demeaning, traumatizing task became one of Charlie's regular assignments. I begged Macbeth to excuse him, but he just laughed. He had a huge lever against me and he knew it.

Even during the cold of winter, Charlie had to go out on the loch with nothing to cover his naked body. Frostbite wasn't a concern, but hypothermia surely was. He was quite often returned to me in that state and I would spend the next several hours using warm water, my hands, my body and any other way possible to warm him. Afterward, he would sleep fitfully, often locked in his nightmares. The next several days after that he would be too weak to even get out of bed.

For which I took a verbal lashing from our host. "He's a weakling and you coddle him too much!" Coddle him? I was just trying to keep him alive and somewhat sane. I was terrified I was losing that battle, but I just had to go on.

Shortly after Charlie's first trip with the Boatman, Macbeth decided it was time we understood the entire process of 'Feeding the Dragon.' About mid-morning, I was summoned to the Great Hall and was surprised to find Charlie waiting for me. At one end of the hall there was a raised dais with a throne, occupied by his lordship. Charlie stood next to him.

"Come forward, Mr. Dantz, and stand here with me. This morning, there are several new birthdays to celebrate, ones that require some decisions on my part and their parents."

From his earlier description of the custom, I knew he was about to select one or more new children as either slaves or for feeding to the dragon. I would have turned and left had it not been for my son; he was going to be forced to view this whole obscene process and I needed to be there for him. So I reluctantly advanced and stood where Macbeth had indicated. Charlie reached out and took my hand. I could feel him trembling.

Macbeth addressed us, "You are to stand there and observe. That is all. If you make a scene, you will both be punished." I sighed and nodded my acquiescence.

A group of ten or so older slaves entered and stood behind us against the wall. "Bring in the first family,"

At the far end, a guard escorted a young boy and his parents into the room and marched them up to before Macbeth. The boy was naked and the parents dressed in work clothes. All three went immediately to their knees.

Macbeth motioned the boy to him and examined him, with particular attention to his genitals which he fondled. "Then he will receive his collar and my mark and return to you with my blessing. You may rise." He nodded to one of the slaves, who led the boy over to a side alcove. "Assist him," he directed me. I followed the slave and boy and soon spotted the brazier with its branding iron, glowing red.

"Hold him," instructed the slave and I pulled the boy to me and held him tight. He knew what was going to be done to him and had resolved to be brave and not cry out. But he had no idea how hideously it would hurt. "Hold him so his right thigh is clear," and I adjusted my grip to comply.

The slave pressed the red-hot iron firmly onto the boy's flesh. The child's scream could have been heard in Glasgow and I supported the lad to keep him from collapsing. For some minutes I held that naked, crying child, "It's all right son! It's over! Go ahead and cry! Let it out!"

Finally his cries diminished into sobs and I led the boy back to his parents. A slave snapped a collar on the boy and they were led out.

I returned to my place, barely able to control myself, but I refused to look at Macbeth. "What a wuss", he sneered. "Bring in the next family."

A single parent entered with two naked children, a boy about twelve… he already had his mark and collar… and a girl who had obviously just had her tenth birthday.

"Well, I have no need of a girl slave, so the child will go to the dragon," ruled Macbeth. "Take her," he ordered one of the slaves who extracted the terrified child from her father's arms and dragged her from the room. Her cries gradually faded.

By this time, my son was shaking and I put my arm about him to steady him. "Courage," I whispered to him.

The next family had two boys, one collared and one not. "If it please, milord, please make Liam one of your slaves," begged his father.

Macbeth considered the request for a moment, beckoned the boy to him and proceeded with his 'examination.' The boy was big for his age and quite well developed and that apparently met with his approval. Turning to my son, he barked, "Test him!"

Charlie sighed and whispered to me, "I have to do what he told me or he will beat you. Please don't be angry." For a moment I didn't understand.

Charlie walked over to the boy, forced him to lie down on the floor, wiggled his way between his legs and began to suck him. After a very short time, the erstwhile slave began to gasp and shortly surrendered himself to his squealing dry orgasm. It was obviously not his first and the older brother tried in vain to hide his embarrassment.

The two on the floor traded places and, with some coaching from Charlie, my son soon filled the boy's mouth with his cream, almost choking the lad.

Rising, Charlie nodded to Macbeth and returned to stand by me. "I'm sorry, Papa."

"Don't be sorry, little one," I consoled him. "You gave him the last orgasm he will ever have. He will lose his balls before the morning is out."

"Prepare this boy to be a slave," Macbeth instructed two of the slaves who led the boy off to his castration. The rest of the family left, heads down, in tears.

The final family had two boys again and begged to have the younger one enslaved.

Despite pleas from the older boy to take him instead of his little brother, the younger one was dragged off. The mother collapsed and had to be carried out by her husband and son. Her wails will always be in my memory.

"There now," said Macbeth, rubbing his hands. "It's really not hard! No muss! No fuss! And after lunch, you will both see the rest of the time-honored ritual."

I begged for Charlie to be excused, but his lordship was adamant, "It's important for your son to see and appreciate the entire proceedings. After all, if he continues to serve me well, he may one day be one of my trusted servants."

After a lunch which nearly made me sick, we were conveyed to the caves in milord's motor launch. In the stern lay the two latest victims, bound and gagged tightly. The little girl was dry-eyed and calm while her companion struggled furiously and wept. It served as a reminder that bravery is not the sole province of the male of our species. How many other women throughout history had shown comparable bravery in impossible circumstances? And then gone to their fates like Joan of Arc.

I wanted desperately to hold both of them to try to comfort them in their last few minutes in this life, but Macbeth waved me back to my seat with a sneer. Charlie held me instead, his strong arms my comfort. Oh, my beautiful son!

Arriving at the caves, we drifted up to a dock. As we clamored out, the two new victims were quickly dragged off to another room. Charlie held my hand in death grip as we followed Macbeth. Entering that room, I saw a platform extending out over the water with straps meant to secure the victim. At the back was a row of wall hooks, one of which contained the body of a boy, hung there by straps under his arms. His head was down, but I could see him breathing shallowly.

Noticing my interest, Macbeth explained, "We had too many at the last feeding so we saved this boy for today. He's been hanging like that for several weeks and will be used today." Seeing my look of distress, he assured me, "Don't worry! We've kept him fed and watered. He'll be fine for today's feeding." He turned away and missed my gasp of horror.

One of the attendants untied her and removed her gag before laying her face up on the platform. Strapping her arms over her head and her legs splayed out, he stepped back.

Selecting a long knife from a rack, Macbeth walked over to her. "They don't feel a thing. It's just like going to sleep," he assured us as he deftly slit her throat. The girl's strangled scream gave the lie to that statement. She moaned a few times and moved her legs once or twice and then was still. As her life ebbed away, Charlie whimpered and shook so badly I had to hold him. Macbeth seemed amused by his reaction.

The attendant used a hose to wash the blood off the body. Satisfied she was clean and pristine, he loosened the straps and slid her off the end of the platform into the water and the current bore her away.

The little boy from the rack was next. I doubted if he was still aware of his sacrifice after hanging there for weeks, frightened and alone. Leaving him hanging there like that must surely be a new high to the cruelty and depravity of this monster. The boy was too weak to offer any resistance and was speedily dispatched and set afloat.

He screamed and fought the straps, jerking wildly about so that one of the attendants had to hold his head so Macbeth could administer the killing stroke. He continued to scream and struggle as his blood was pumped onto the platform. The screams and struggles gradually diminished and finally stopped.

I had attempted to shield Charlie from these scenes, but was unsuccessful. By the time the third victim had been dispatched, he was staring straight ahead, neither seeing nor hearing anything. He had simply shut down.

I had to carry him back to the launch and then to our room when we got back to the castle where he continued 'out of it' for the rest of the afternoon. I simply sat with him in my arms until he regained his wits that evening. Neither of us felt able to talk about what we had seen. We just lay in my bed with our arms about each other. He slept fitfully and my sleep was full of nightmares. I kept seeing my beautiful son thrashing on that platform as his life drained from him.

Macbeth seemed particularly adept at finding the most difficult and degrading things for Charlie to do. We had been there for more than six months, when Charlie returned to our room one evening after dinner. Exhausted as usual. But the question he asked me almost drove me 'round the bend.

"Master says they have forgot us! Do you think they still miss us? Do they remember us?" The despair in those two questions was almost more than I could bear.

I took him in my arms and tried to comfort him. "Yes, they miss us, I'm sure and they will never forget us. We WILL find a way out of this place. I know you miss them and I miss them, too."

He pushed away and began to cry, "Oh, it's so hard! I miss Papa Jan and I miss Yoshi and Arico so very much. I miss their soft hands caressing me and the fun times we had in bed. And we'll never see them again!" He continued to sob as I struggled to find a way to help him. My own grief almost overwhelmed me, too.

"Charlie, we will see them again. And be with them once more. That I promise you."

"Son, would it help you if I held you and loved you?" I know fathers are not supposed to have sex with their sons, but I was willing to try anything to help him overcome the despair that was slowly robbing him of his humanity.

It had been a long time since I had had a naked young boy to stroke and play with. Except for the lack of body hair, his body was that of a young teen, a bit small for his age. I explored every centimeter of my sexy boy with hands, lips and tongue, finishing with his steel-hard prick in my mouth. Well that part of him still works well, I thought as he filled me with his cream.

When he had come down from his high, he gasped, "Oh Papa! That felt so good! And I want to make you feel good, too."

"Not tonight," I interrupted him, desperately trying not to be a complete pervert. But the next night, lust overcame me as well and we made tender, satisfying love. And would continue to do so many, many nights. After all, it was the only real pleasure either of us could have.

Fortunately, Charlie and I could be together in our room every night after he was released from his slave duties. He always brought food for both of us and we could enjoy it… not quite the words, I'm afraid… together before we retired. Those times were all I had to try to keep him from total despair. Several times a month he would be late to return, having been obliged to 'entertain' Macbeth. His prick would be red and raw from being sucked continuously until he had multiple orgasms and was, at last, dry. The only thing I had to help sooth his hurt was some butter from the larder. That did seem to help, but it would be several days until we could share again.

Several months went by and one morning Macbeth announced there would a 'Slaveboy Orgy'. All slaveboys under age sixteen would be there… and that, of course, included Charlie.

"You will be there, too," he commanded me. "You will choose a companion for the night and it cannot be your son. You will see that slaves have other uses beside keeping my castle."

That statement made my blood run cold. "What do I do with this companion?" I asked naively.

I wasn't able to get to Charlie to warn him. But, at least I would be there to keep an eye on him, although I could probably do nothing overt to protect him.

We gathered in the main assembly hall of the castle which had been decorated to resemble a Roman bacchanalia. The other men were a mixture of members of our host's immediate household and a few slaves' fathers. Many of the former were naked and obviously looking forward to an evening of boy-sex, but the latter seemed sad and dejected… probably wishing they had not been favored with this honor.

The slaveboys were led in blindfolded, with their hands cuffed behind them and they would remain that way for the night. I counted twenty-two in all, most of them between eleven and thirteen years old. Some had been to one of these orgies before and knew what they were in for.

Macbeth welcomed us and announced that he would make the first choice and then the rest could make theirs and use them for the entire evening. I knew immediately who he would choose.

Charlie was, after all, unique; he was the only boy in the room who still had his balls. That distinction… and the fact that he stayed with me… had not endeared him to the other slaves at first, but he had gradually won them over by his hard work.

Macbeth guided him to a raised platform and forced him to his knees. Standing in front of him, he dropped his shorts. "Go down on it, boy!" I seethed, but could do nothing.

Wait a minute! That command, 'go down on it boy'! The sudden realization struck me like a hammer blow. He had been the Dungeon Master! It was he who had forced my son to service him and then viciously raped him! I made a pact… with the devil, if you like… at that moment; we would find a way to escape and I would bring this monster down or give my life trying!

By the time I recovered my senses, the others had started choosing. The youngest slave there was a boy just ten and still recovering from the pain and shock of his castration only a week ago. He looked ready to collapse momentarily. I made a dash for him, elbowing aside one of the leering men, picked him up and carried him gently to one of the more private alcoves.

Sitting down, I cuddled him gently in my arms and whispered to him, "Don't be afraid, little one. I'm not going to hurt you. Just lie here and relax." Gradually, he stopped shaking and I was able to examine his wound. As I had expected his sac was still red and inflamed and he seemed to be running a fever. There was pus around several of the stitches. All I could do was gently hold him and try to comfort him. I could hear screams from some of the other slaveboys followed by raucous laughter and just hoped my son was not one of the screamers.

Throughout the evening I caught glances of my Charlie. Macbeth had freely 'loaned' him to the other men present who were quick to avail themselves of his charms. He later told me that Macbeth had said, "Drink up, slave. The protein is good for you." Fortunately none of them raped him.

When the affair finally wound down in the wee hours of the morning, I reluctantly surrendered my companion and went in search of my son, prying him away from under our passed-out, drunken host. As we were leaving, one of the slave fathers drew me aside and said, "Thank you for being gentle with my son."

Back in our room, Charlie and I lay together wearily. He wasn't as traumatized as I feared he might be having decided he would simply be compliant and get things over as quickly as possible. He, too, had figured out who the Dungeon Master was, but fortunately that worthy had not ripped his ass again.

I told him of my evening with the littlest slave. "That's Petey!" he informed me. "We don't think he's going to make it. I wish there was something we could do to help him. He needs a doctor."

When I returned to our room after a grumpy lunch with our hung-over host, I was surprised to find one of the slaveboys waiting for me. He was the one who took care of our room, although I rarely saw him. He was also… so far as I could tell… the only slaveboy who had been completely nullified. Kneeling with his forehead touching the floor, he asked, "Sir, may I speak?" I immediately gave him permission and he sat up and we studied each other for a minute.

He was a good-looking kid, about thirteen I guessed, with raven hair and sharp features. His gray eyes were filled with hurt and sorrow. But there was, perhaps, hope there, too.

"Sir," he began, "we all heard what you did for poor Petey last night and wanted to thank you. It's the first time anyone has shown the slightest kindness to any of us since we were…" He sighed and looked like he was ready to burst into tears.

"Slaves don't have names, Sir. Besides, if I told you, Master would beat me. He doesn't know I'm here."

I sat down on the bed and motioned for him to sit beside me. He hesitated, but then did as I asked and I put my arm around his shoulders. After a few minutes, he decided to trust me and said, "My name is Jonathan."

"Well, Jonathan, I certainly won't tell his lordship you were here and anything you tell me will never leave these four walls. Why did you decide to trust me?"

"Because you're different. You stood up to Master. You kept him from cutting your son. None of our parents did that. They're scared shitless of him," he answered bitterly. "They're afraid of what he might do to them or the other kids."

"Because I'm different," he began to weep. "Haven't you noticed? I'm already a looser and I don't got anything more to lose."

"Why are you a looser?" I asked, puzzled. "You don't have to tell me, if it's too hard for you."

"When I was first made a slave, I fought them," he sobbed. "I wasn't going to obey them. The first time Master made me suck him, I bit him hard. So he had them cut the rest of my parts off, too. And then he sent my brother to the dragon. And said I would be his slave all my life. My parents hate me. And so does everyone else except the other slaves."

I decided to take a very big risk. I had no illusions about what would happen to me… and Charlie, too… if I were found out.

"I don't hate you, Jonathan," I assured him. "I think you are very brave to come and talk to me. Can I trust you to keep a secret?"

"Jonathan, I pledge to you I will find a way for Charlie and me to escape. I don't know how or when, but when we do, I will utterly destroy this monster you call 'master'. And then you'll all be free."

"You are a group of boys who have been savagely abused and your parents, too. No, not just for you, but for everyone. You see, I was a slave once, too. But my master loved me even though he was cruel sometimes. So, I know what it means to be a slave."

He looked at me with his mouth open for a minute and then gave in to sadness and laid his head on my chest and cried. After a while, I asked him, "Do you trust the other slaves?"

"Then you may tell them what I said. You will be free some day; that I promise. If any of you need someone to talk to, I will listen. I may not be able to be much help, but I will listen. Sometimes that is all I can do."

I needed to satisfy my curiosity about something. "Does your master give you hormones?" I asked.

"Yes, Sir. It's mixed in with the gruel they feed us." Well, at least Macbeth understood the need to keep his castrated boys growing 'normally'. Without the hormone therapy, their value and use as slaves would soon be severely compromised.

"I'm glad to hear that. It gives me hope for your future. Now, you better get back to work. Just remember, Charlie and I will always be your friends."

He went to his knees again. "Thank you, Sir! Oh thank you!" And, giving me a hug, he slipped away.

That night, I told my son about my visit from Jonathan. "Yeah. He was the only one who would risk coming to see you. But, can't you get Master to do something about Petey? He's gonna die if nothing is done."

True to my word, I confronted Macbeth the next morning. "The little slave who was my companion the other night is dreadfully ill. He needs medical treatment."

"BECAUSE HE'S GOING TO DIE!" I shouted. "Is that what you want? Another dead slave?" I had heard that over half the boys did not survive their castration, dying of either shock, loss of blood or infection. Even after that a few of the slaves succumbed to despair and took their own lives before their term was completed.

He looked at me in amazement. "You are a strange piece of work, Dantz. Why are you so concerned about my slaves?"

"Because I was a slave at one time. I know first-hand the sorrow and despair of that condition even under the best of circumstances. And the savagery you heap upon these innocent children is hardly the best of circumstances."

Fixing me with a look of contempt, he growled, "Take care to control your tongue, Mr. Dantz. My patience is not unlimited!" We both stood there and glared at each other for several minutes. Finally he said, "All right, tell my steward to give you the keys to the medical supplies. You have two weeks to make him fit. If he's still not fit, I'll put him down." And he stomped out angrily.

Moving quickly, I got the keys and carried Petey to our room. He was burning up.

Laying him on Charlie's bed, I examined him. The infection had spread to his whole groin.

"Petey," I told him, "you have a bad infection where they cut you. I'm going to try to cure it, but it may hurt a lot."

Fortunately, there were some potent antibiotics among the supplies. I was not a trained medical person, but I guess I managed ok… with Charlie's help… and by the deadline, Petey was back on his feet and ready to begin his 'training'.

Macbeth was impressed and decided I should look after all newly neutered slaves. I tried to talk him out of this barbarism, but he was adamant. One morning after another acrimonious discussion of the practice, he glared at me and said, "Dantz, if you continue to hector me about my wishes in this matter, your son will be one of your patients!" I had pushed him as far as I dared and would just have to try to help the victims as best I could.

The Steward was the one who gelded them and his usual practice was to tie the chosen boy to a table in the stockroom, tie off his balls with fishing line and excise them with a carving knife. There was no anesthetic and the screams were deafening until the boy passed out. Then the wound was badly stitched or cauterized with a hot poker and the by-this-time unconscious new eunuch was handed over to me. Together Charlie and I treated the lad for shock, dressed the wound and hoped for the best. We were not allowed to keep the boy with us at night, but Jonathan usually cared for him and we could check on his progress day-to-day.

Yes, we lost a few, usually to shock, and Charlie regarded each one as a personal defeat. I had convinced the steward to practice some basic antiseptic steps… he thought using rum or good scotch whiskey was a waste… and our infection rate went way down. Altogether, our success rate hovered around eighty-five percent. Part of Charlie's tasks was to deliver our 'failures' back to their families. Fortunately, Macbeth did not expect another child from the family in compensation.

One afternoon I returned from my usual unpleasant lunch with our host to find both Charlie and Jonathan waiting in our room. Jonathan immediately went to his knees. "Please, Sir!"

"He's so sad and frightened," interrupted Charlie, "we're afraid he might walk through the fence." I knew what that meant… a horrible, painful death by strangulation. "All he talks about is the night you held him. The night you showed him that you cared. Do you think maybe you could take him for a night and hold him again?"

I was willing to do anything I could to save this beautiful little boy. "Well, yes. But won't he be missed in the slave cage?"

"The Steward just counts heads," explained Jonathan. "He doesn't care who the head belongs to, so long as the number is correct."

That night a thoroughly frightened small boy was thrust into our room. He stood there, head down, crying and shaking.

That was all it took and I had a sobbing little boy in my arms with his arms about my neck. I scooped him up, laid him on my bed, stripped off my clothes, crawled in beside him and pulled the covers over us. What the experts call body comfort soon had its effect and he stopped shaking and his sobs diminished to sniffles.

"Petey, I know you're very sad and frightened to be a slave. Can we talk about it, just you and I?"

"I'm a freak!" he assured me. "I'm not a boy any more. They took my balls. And I'll never grow up to be a man like my da."

"You are certainly not a freak. You are a beautiful little boy who has had something terrible done to him. No little boy should have that happen to him. And you will grow up to be a beautiful man." Those words must have been some comfort to him as he stopped crying and lay there in my arms, even cuddled up a bit closer.

"You are the very first person who told me that you loved me since my mam died when I was very little. My da had a problem taking care of me and Master made me a slave even though I don't have any brothers or sisters."

"I spoke to your father the night of the Slave Orgy and I know he loves you, too." I heard and felt his breath catch. "Petey, do you trust me?" He nodded vigorously. "Somehow, Charlie and I will find a way to escape from this place. And when we do, I promise you that I will personally see that Lord Macbeth is thrown over and pays for his crimes. You and all the others will be free again."

It took him a while to digest that. "You mean I could live with my da again? But no, he won't want me. I'm not a boy; not his son."

"Petey, you are a boy in every way that counts. Your master gives you medicine that will keep you growing just like you still had your balls. And, when you're old enough, I will pay for you to have a transplant. You will grow up to be a loving father to the sons and daughters you will have. And your father will be a loving grandpa."

It is amazing what the smallest flicker of hope can do for a young boy. A few weeks later, Charlie reported that Petey was not only past his terrors, but was telling the other slaves to have hope, too.

Whenever Petey encountered me, he immediately went to his knees and I would kneel beside him. Then he would throw his arms around my neck, hug me, and whisper, "Thank you, sir. I trust you!" He, of course, meant it as comfort and affirmation.

It was! But it was also a goad. I now had three boys who counted on me to rescue them from this hell we were all in. But his smile was enough to light up my day and I came to appreciate it very much. He treated Charlie similarly and I could always tell when they had had time together. Charlie would arrive at our room in the evening much less depressed.

In my travels about the hold, I sometimes encountered Petey's father. I always stopped to assure him that Petey was OK and that he was doing well as a slave. But I did not tell him of my promise; I didn't want to raise hopes too much. But I noticed all the slaves were watching me very closely.

But the days and weeks dragged on with discouraging monotony. And every day I could see Charlie slowly sinking into despair. And every day I could feel myself a victim of that same deadly spiral. Each day he seemed to be smaller, less animated. He was retrogressing and now looked and acted like a much younger boy. I knew that I would soon no longer have a son unless something changed our situation.

We had been captive for well over a year and nothing I did seemed to provide even the tiniest hope for escape. I had redoubled my efforts and had learned everything about Macbeth's system. There didn't seem to be any way to disarm it unless I could get into the control room. Even trying to open that door without Macbeth there would swiftly set off my collar.

One morning, Macbeth assembled the entire population on the plaza in front of the castle. A couple with a small boy were led out of the castle and positioned in front of what must be a punishment frame.

"Moses Edgar, you have been shirking your duties," intoned Macbeth. "Because of your absence from your assigned post, three valuable sheep have been lost. You will be punished on this frame for your dereliction."

"Please, milord! The boy was sick and his mother could not take care of him. He has a breathing sickness."

Macbeth turned to one of his teen-aged house slaves and barked, "Put the boy on the rack!"

"No! Please!" screamed the women as her husband threw himself at Macbeth's feet.

The child… I guessed he was about eight or nine… was securely fastened by his little arms and legs. He was so small the slaves had to stretch him very tightly and he hung there crying and coughing. Already he was having trouble breathing.

Charlie was standing with me and I tried to hide him in hopes that he wouldn't be the one chosen. Macbeth looked over the assemblage searching for a particular slave. My hopes were dashed when he called Charlie to him. I gave him a quick hug and whispered, "Better do what he asks."

"I know, Papa. And I'll try to be brave," he answered and then shuffled over to where his master stood before the frame. He was shaking badly.

Macbeth handed him a cane and instructed him, "You will beat this boy as hard as you can until I tell you to stop. And I mean hard! You are strong and you will swing with all your might. If I'm not satisfied, you will take the boy's place and I will beat you and then your father will be flogged as well. Do you understand?"

He nodded as the tears ran down his cheeks. I was about to intervene, when the Boatman grabbed me from behind. "Don't try to stop it. You'll just make it worse," he told me. I struggled with him, but it was no use.

Charlie swung leaving a fiery red welt on the little ass before him. The little boy screamed and was seized by a bout of coughing.

Charlie began to apply the cane viciously. As he told me later, he was hoping the child would pass out and not feel the pain. But the child continued to scream and gasp for breath for quite a few strokes. Finally he stopped and hung there with his head down and Charlie stopped.

Macbeth finally ordered him to stop and Charlie stood there shaking and bawling.

"Let everyone know that I will not tolerate shirkers!" yelled Macbeth. "Now, go to your jobs!" And he turned on his heel and started back into the castle.

Two slaves began to remove the boy from the frame and one of them looked up in horror. "Master, the boy is dead!"

Charlie collapsed in a heap and I managed to break free of my 'minder' and rushed to him. He was breathing but otherwise unresponsive. The whole thing had clearly overwhelmed him and he had fled his senses. I gently gathered him in my arms and carried back to our room.

When the little boy's parents were released later that day, they walked to the edge of the 'fence', clasped hands and walked through it to their deaths. The proceedings that day resulted in an angry buzz from the workers, but no one was brave enough… or foolish enough, depending on your point of view… to challenge Lord Macbeth.

It took three days of round-the-clock attention before I could get my son to return to our world. He simply lay there, his eyes open full of tears, but otherwise unresponsive. I greatly feared I had lost him completely and prayed almost constantly. But, at last, he began to cry again and that was a good sign.

He clung to me and poured out his heart. "Papa! I killed that boy. He didn't do anything wrong and I beat him to death! They're all dead and it's my fault! I'm EVIL!" he screamed. Telling him that he had had no choice was useless; he wasn't hearing that cliché.

Finally, late that afternoon, he simply subsided into sobs. "Charlie, you are not to blame. Macbeth is a monster; we both know that. He would have had the boy beaten to death no matter what. I'm just so sorry you had to be the one. Just always remember, I love you."

"Charlie, hold me. What you did was probably a blessing. The little boy must have suffered much from his sickness and now he and his parents are with God and his suffering is over. I love you because you are my son and that will never change. And what you did was very brave." That seemed to comfort him a little, but he was clearly nearing the end of his endurance.

Every day he was a little less 'alive'. Even our being together in bed was no longer enjoyment. Every day he was a little more withdrawn. He did the work assigned to him without complaint and returned to me at day's end often as if in a trance. I would soon have a zombie for a son and I feared that above all else.

Redoubling my efforts, I again sought for a chink in Macbeth's armor; some way to escape from our prison; some way to defeat him. I went so far as to venture into every corner of his realm… occasionally almost triggering my collar… but was rebuffed.

One of the very few female slaves in Macbeth's stable, she was a comely lass, about thirteen years old. But her eyes gave her away… eyes that reflected the pain and sorrow she had experienced in her young life.

In the center of our room, she went down on her knees and begged me, "Please, Sir. You and your son must escape."

I almost exploded in anger at her; what did she think I had been trying to do for these long months? But, then, reason returned and I avoided making a fool of myself.

"Please, Sir. You are the only one who could do it. I've watched you struggle and you must be the one who will set us free. You and Charlie are the only hope we have."

I motioned for her to rise and sit beside me on the bed. "Marybeth, I have tried to think of a way to disable the electronic system and escape. I would have to turn the system off in the control room. Even if I knew the code for the door lock, I would be dead before I could reach the switch."

"Sir, he uses me like a common whore." She looked down at her feet and began to sob. "I'm carrying his child." Both us were still for a bit as that admission sank in. "I have no desire to bring another monster into this world."

I held her small head between my hands and looked into her tear-filled eyes. Such courage and sacrifice from one so young was almost more than I could bear. But I knew I could not dissuade her. And if I refused, it would destroy her!

"There's another door at the back. He's told me it leads to an escape. An escape down the river to Loch Rannoch. He promised to take me along if he ever needed to use it. But, I knew that was a lie. He gave me the codes one time when he was drunk."

I needed to make a decision here. Was I willing to risk everything? Was I willing to watch her die? Or was I a coward, at heart? Then I thought of Charlie and our lost family, and there was only one course to take. We would go down fighting, it that was our fate.

"Marybeth," I said taking her into my arms, "I will accept your sacrifice. I must. For Charlie, for you and for all your people."

Charlie had had another really bad day and was shaking and sobbing. Reasoning that an inert body to carry was better than one which might struggle, I gave him a strong soporific from the medicine chest. I had clothing to wear, but the best I could do for him was a large wool blanket.

Opening the door quietly, I suddenly remembered the 'servant'… guard… who was no longer there. I picked up my burden and made my way quietly almost falling over the man. The dart in his thigh told me all I needed to know.

I lay Charlie on the floor near the door and embraced Marybeth. "Thank you, little one, thank for who you are and what you will do for us."

"Thank you, Sir. You have made my life complete." She handed me a fire ax. "I thought you might have need of this." She was right as it turned out.

"Keep far enough back 'til I open the door. If I can't get to the switch, you should be able while my collar is busy." She waved and began keying the code.

Her collar began to act at once as the door swung open. She staggered into the room, collapsing just short of the switch. I leaped over her convulsing body and pulled the switch. She had been right; my collar had not been triggered.

By now her collar had done its deadly work. I looked down at her contorted face, fell to my knees and kissed her. Then I dragged her into the room, retrieved the ax and Charlie, laying him on one of the work tables. Then I closed and bolted the door from the inside. So, far there had been no alarm. Of course, you dolt! You cut all the power. Now make it stay that way!

The ax made quick work of all the control boxes, the main power supply and all the timing equipment. Months of reconstruction would be necessary and I was adamant that he would not have that luxury. Although individual collars would still be 'live', Macbeth could no longer set them off remotely. And, most important, the 'fence' was down. He would have to rely on pure intimidation to control his flock.

I leaned down, removed Marybeth's hands from her throat, folded her arms across her chest and kissed her once more. "Goodbye, child. You are with God, now."

I slung my blanket-wrapped son over my shoulders and keyed the code into the second door. It swung open to reveal a long flight of steps down to a dock. I stumbled down them to find an inflatable tethered there. I pulled the release and the hiss was music to my ears. Evidently Macbeth kept his 'escape' in good working order.

I climbed in, still holding my son, slipped the painter, and pushed out into the stream. There were no paddles or oars, so we were at the mercy of the swiftly flowing stream. The first kilometer [half-mile] was relatively smooth and I took the time to buckle us both into life jackets. After that, it got interesting.

I held on to the halyard with one hand and onto Charlie with the other, as we shot through the first rapids. We were tossed around a good bit, but managed to keep from falling out.

Fortunately, each rapid was followed by a quiet stretch, but each successive rapid got larger and more harrowing. I simply lost track of how many times we were ejected from the boat. Each time, I managed to flip the craft over and drag the two of us back in. The rocks did a number on us… bruises and cuts… but nothing that was life threatening. The river was life threatening enough.

Just as it was getting light, I saw Loch Rannoch ahead… and a teeming waterfall where our river cascaded into it. Shooting past the dock which obviously was supposed to be our stopping point, we were flung over the falls.

Our good fortune was that the pool beneath the falls was deep. Our bad fortune was the life jackets were torn from us.

I surfaced and scanned about for Charlie. The boat floated there, impudently upside-down, his jacket was there, but of my son, there was not a trace.

Diving as deep as I could, I searched. Just at the last of my breath, I spied a red object just below me. Grabbing his mop of hair, I hauled us both to the surface with my last ounce of strength. I simply flopped him over the boat and clung to the halyard.

After what seemed like an eternity, he coughed and sputtered a bit and started to come out of it. "Papa! Where are we? What's happening?"

I reached up weakly and put my arms around him. "We're free! One of the other slaves helped us." It would be some time until I was ready to tell him about Marybeth. "Look! Across the loch." The sun was just starting to come up and a small village glowed in the morning rays. "That must be Killchonan! We're free!"

Shortly, we spotted a small fishing boat put out from the village and head down the loch. With me bracing him, Charlie stood up and began to wave frantically. At first, there was no response from the small boat, but suddenly he changed course and headed directly for us.

Twenty minutes later, we were sitting in Constable Davis's small office, wrapped in blankets as I filled him in on the main points of our captivity. It was emotionally too intense for my son as he laid his head on my chest and wept quietly. The whole time I was speaking, Davis stared at me, his face betraying his 'You got to be putting me on, laddie!' stance. When I had finished, he stood up and went outside to call his boss.

After about ten minutes he returned. "It's true! You were reported missing over a year ago," he said with new respect showing. "I'm to take you to Kinloch. Inspector Lally wants to talk to you. I have some clothes that will fit you, Mr. Dantz and I'll try to find something for your boy."

He was about to leave and I asked him, "Could I borrow your phone? I'd like to tell our family that we're still alive." He handed over the phone immediately.

I took it from him with trembling hands. It took me several tries before I got the number right. The phone rang for a while before Yoshi answered it.

The was a crash as he dropped the phone in shock, followed by a lot of screaming. I could hear Jan in the background yelling, "Give it to me!", as I waited expectantly. What I next heard was not at all what I expected.

"You sonofabitch! I don't know who you are, but if this is your idea of a joke, I'll kill you with my bare hands!"

There was another crash of a phone hitting the floor. And Yoshi came back on the line. He told me later that Jan, by that time, was sitting on the floor crying like a baby.

"Oh, Papa Chris! Is it really you? Oh, I can't believe it. It's too, too, too much! Oh…!"

After some minutes, Jan was back, "Oh my God. It is you! Oh, Chris, we thought you and Charlie were dead! We had given up hope of ever seeing you again! Where are you? What happened? And you say Charlie is with you?"

"Yes he is and we're all right. We've been held prisoner by a cruel and heartless lord all this time. It's a long story."

"Oh, Chris! Oh, Chris! Oh, Chris!" was all that he seemed to be able to say. Finally, he just sobbed.

"Well we need him and his strongest cutting tools. We've got some collars that need to be cut off."

I handed the phone to Charlie and he talked to Jan for a while, fighting tears all the way. Then, Yoshi and Arico were on the line and they sobbed back and forth for a while. Finally, he switched off and the two of us just held each other waiting for Davis to return.

He had found a spare constable's uniform for me and some shorts and a t-shirt for Charlie and we were soon on the way to Kinloch.

It was past noon when we arrived at Kinloch Rannoch where we were met by Inspector Lally. Realizing we had not had anything substantial to eat for almost a day, he put first things first and fed us… I like that. The food wasn't all that different from what we had been served as Macbeth's 'guests', but it had a distinctive taste… the taste of freedom.

Afterward, we told our story again. This time Charlie had recovered enough to help although several times he broke down and wept. Throughout our presentation, Inspector Lally gave no hint of his thoughts although he prompted us several times for more information.

It was dark by the time we finished and Lally turned to Constable Davis and fixed him with a stern look. "Edgar, how could ye possibly have thought they made this all up? After the rumors we've been getting? We should have paid closer attention to them."

Turning back to me and Charlie, he explained, "Tradesmen who go there have told us that something was going on. There are random periods when they cannot call. And the populace all wear collars like yours and seem completely subservient to Macbeth. No one from there ever comes here. If what you have told us is true… and I fear I must believe ye… this is a crown matter and I will send for a team from Scotland Yard to continue the investigation. We can't simply walk in and arrest Macbeth, no matter the charge."

"Now, I'm sure you two are exhausted, so some light food and sleep might be in order. Tomorrow will be quite a day."

I agreed and my boy and I were soon in a comfortable room for the night. We slept together, but the collars chafed. "It's almost over, little one," I told my son. "We're almost home." Little one! Whose leg was I pulling? Without the bravery and courage of my teen, I would have perished. He is certainly not my 'little one' any longer. We were both too excited to sleep much, but did manage to doze in each others arms. When I finally stirred, Charlie was sleeping with his head on my chest and his legs… those luscious legs… thrown over mine.

The wait for the family that morning was interminable! A Scotland Yard chopper landed shortly before lunch, disgorging three uniformed officers who immediately went into session with Inspector Lally.

Finally, about 1:30, Sir Robert's van pulled in. "Good! He drove! I'm afraid Jan might have run off the road in his haste," I remarked. Before the car even stopped, three persons jumped out and hurtled toward is. Nervous about how our collars might react to the coming violence, I managed to hold them at bay.

Momentarily stopped in their tracks, the three of them could only gawk with open mouths.

"Yes! Adrian please come here with your heaviest shears. These things were made to control large, dangerous animals, not humans. Oh, God!" gasped my lover, the boys still being in shocked silence.

Adrian hurried over and studied our situation for a moment. "I believe I can get a cutter blade under the collar at the back without triggering it. Shall I proceed?"

Charlie's collar presented additional problems as he had grown enough that it fit tight enough to mark his neck. Adrian searched for the best spot as we all stood holding our breaths. When he inserted the blade, the collar started to buzz at once. A twist of the blade almost strangled Charlie, but our technician managed to get a good cut and that collar joined its larger brother in the dust at our feet. Adrian picked them both up and withdrew muttering dire threats against our licensee.

The celebration must have gone on for ten, maybe fifteen minutes. I glanced up at one point and saw Sir Robert standing back with tears in his eyes. I managed to detach myself from the group hug and walked over to him. We shook hands and he put his arm around me.

"They had about given up hope, Christopher! But I knew you had to be out there somewhere. You simply could not have just wandered into the moors." That he had used my 'formal' name was evidence of how emotionally charged this moment was for him. "I refused to let them declare you and Charles deceased," he continued. "It just could not be that you were dead."

I returned to the group which was now slowly winding down, just as one of the 'uniforms' came out and approached. "I'm Chief Inspector Crawford from Scotland Yard," he introduced himself. "Based upon your and the boy's statements, Inspector Lally asked for a royal warrant. When you finish your greetings, I should like very much to hear from you and your son first hand."

I nodded, gathered my somewhat exhausted brood and we all went into a small conference room, now crowded with the Chief Inspector, his two constables, Inspector Lally and Constable Davis, Sir Robert and our whole family.

Yoshi and Arico sat in shocked silence, moving only to comfort Charlie when he was on the verge during his telling. Jan sat behind them, sadly shaking his head. I could tell what he was thinking. It was worse, far worse, than the years we had spent as Mike's slaves. And still worse for the families still in thrall to this monster as he stole and abused their children.

When we had finished, Crawford turned to Sir Robert and asked, "Well, what do you think?"

"I just want to say," he answered looking at us, "that I am full of admiration for you Chris that you kept young Charles from complete despair and never wavered in your quest to save the both of you. And you, Charles, for the love and courage you gave your father. Without that, he could not have survived. That both of you sit here today is a triumph of no small mean."

Turning back to Crawford, "To answer your question Sir Alan, yes, we have a case. But it will require evidence that is still at Loch Ericht."

"I agree," he answered. "There's no help for it but to confront Macbeth in his lair. I will go prepare the necessary warrants and we'll leave at first light. I suppose your family will accompany us?"

Jan invited Sir Robert to sup with us that evening, but he demurred, saying, "No. This is your time to be together as a family once again. There will be many other times when I would be so honored. But, not tonight."

The three boys would have their own room that evening and Jan and I could be alone at last. As they were getting ready to hug me good-night, I pulled Arico aside. "Don't either of you mention Charlie's lack of pubes. That's something they did to him and he is very upset about it. But rather that than castration." His gasp of horror told me he understood.

Jan and I just held each other until dawn was breaking. The day had been more emotionally charged for me than even the day Marcus had told us we might one day be free.

The two vehicles pulled up to the plaza in front of the castle as Macbeth strode out to meet us.

"Well!" he blustered, "you have finally returned these malefactors to my custody. I save them from starvation and exposure and they reward me by destroying my entire electrical system. I assure you I will deal with them most severely."

"Not so," said the Chief Inspector. "Grave charges have been laid against you, milord. We are here to ascertain the truth of them."

Having settled that dispute, Davis, one of his constables, Charlie and I, accompanied by Macbeth and his constable and the Boatman, set out in Macbeth's launch for the caves across the loch, leaving the rest of our family and the other royal constable behind.

Searching the premises thoroughly, we found no evidence of the atrocities that had been routinely committed there. "This area is used to prepare fish for market," Macbeth explained. I had found a small scrap of blonde hair in one of the corners which I showed to the Chief Inspector. "Hmmm! Fish with blonde hair! Very Interesting," he confided to me.

We were about to give up and return to the castle, when Davis noticed a closed and locked closet.

Macbeth sort of wilted a bit as the Boatman produced a set of keys and unlocked and opened the door.

On the table in the closet lay the body of a little boy. Charlie immediately dashed over to him.

Macbeth panicked. "He was evidently playing on the rocks and fell. We put him in here while Constable Macdonald is trying to find his mother." The look on Macdonald's face told all of us that he had never heard of or seen the boy.

Davis and Constable Henry went to the boy immediately. After a quick examination, Henry reported, "He terribly emaciated and dreadfully dehydrated. But there do not seem to be any injuries consistent with falling. We should get him to hospital."

Charlie picked the boy up, cradled him in his arms and prepared to carry him back to the launch. The boy moaned softly. I noted the chafe marks under his scrawny arms. I wonder how long he hung there waiting for his fate?

Constable Henry returned with the report, "They're on their way, Sir. Should be touch down when we get there." He reached to take the boy from Charlie, but I shook my head so he let my son keep his precious burden.

Word had quickly spread somehow and there were several women about when we reached the castle. One of them looked down at the body in Charlie's arms and gently retrieved the boy. "Sure! And it's my Jamie! Him wot was sent to the dragon!"

Macbeth stood in the background and fumed as, just then, the copter settled on the plaza and two medics came running to us. Placing the boy on a litter, one of them gave him a more thorough examination while the other started a drip, having had some difficulty finding an un-collapsed vein. "You the boy's mother?"

A few minutes later, a weeping mother and her son were on their way. Adrian picked up another spent collar to add to his grisly collection.

The Chief inspector and I huddled. "We have no evidence of murder," he stated. "We need the bodies."

"The water is very deep there," cautioned the Boatman. "And we have no diving gear."

"Constable Macdonald, you are relieved of your position with Lord Macbeth and remanded to my service. You and Constable Henry are to remain here with Lord Macbeth and keep him in hand." Macdonald gulped and fingered his collar. Without our bidding, Adrian approached and a snip later he added another collar to his hoard.

When we reached the place on the loch that both Charlie and the Boatman agreed was the place, Constable Jacobs stripped down to his shorts and dove in. He was down for quite some time, but surfaced again at last.

The Boatman opened a locker and handed a line to Jacobs. We payed it out as he dove again. After what seemed like forever, he surface again and nodded at us to pull up the line.

We reeled in the body of a little girl, to the gasps of everyone aboard. Jacobs climbed back into the launch and wept. "Sir, there are scores of them, maybe hundreds. Some are just skeletons. If we had only known!"

Davis shut his eyes for a moment as I comforted Charlie. "Put her back," he sighed. "We'll have to get a proper crew here to exhume as many as possible."

The ride back to the castle was grim and silent. When we arrived, Davis strode over to a glowering Macbeth and announced, "James Athol, Lord Macbeth, you are charged with the murder of unknown numbers of children and the unlawful peonage of the residents of this hold. You will be taken to London for trial by your peers."

"Cuff him," he directed the two constables. They succeeded in getting the cuff on one hand, when he sudden swung the loose cuff at Macdonald, broke away and ran up the steps into the castle, pursued by the Boatman.

A few minutes later, he appeared on an upper balcony, holding a child above his head. "Be gone from my domain or I shall throw the boy onto the rocks!" he screamed. I recognised the child immediately; it was Petey who had been locked up along with all the young slaves.

Suddenly, the Boatman appeared behind him, snatched Petey away, handed him to Jonathan who had also been freed and grappled with Macbeth. They fought for some time, but inevitably pitched over the parapet and fell to the rocks below. Macbeth would never stand trial in this world.

The Boatman had landed partly in the water and was still alive… barely… as I rushed over to him. "Why?" I asked the dying man.

Epilogue

The castle slaves were free to return to their families, but most of the older ones remained to serve… as hired servants. Once freed, a few families left the hold, but the vast majority did not. This was their home and they would wait to see how their new lord would treat them. Rather well, it turned out, as the King appointed an obscure cousin to the title.

Our family returned home the day after the confrontation. It would take lots of love to 'restore' all of us. Fortunately, that was not in short supply as our friends… those we were closest to and many others… all demonstrate their happiness at our return.

Timo held a welcoming dinner at the Belvedere and we were all together once more… Timo and Jenny and Danny, Marcus and Michael, Sebastian and his new wife and even Sir Robert. Both Charlie and I were lauded as heroes. I didn't feel particularly heroic, but finally accepted Marcus's assertion that just surviving to bring down the evil Macbeth was, in itself, heroic.

As soon as we could, we took Charlie to the foremost dermatologist in all England. He managed to coax a few follicles back to life in Charlie's pubic area. He would never have much of a 'bush' but at least he could know that he wasn't a 'little boy' any longer.

Jan, Yoshi and Arico's trip to Japan had been successful. Ties had been reestablished and Yoshi's place confirmed. Arico would continue to hold the Igashi monshou until he succeeded to the title.

They both had shot up during our absence and now towered over their erstwhile mate. Although he had missed a full year of schooling, with their help, Charlie soon caught up and they would finish upper school together.

His misgivings to the contrary, he had been lovingly received by his overjoyed father… who also took in Jonathan, until the rift with his parents could be healed… and their small family was knit together once more.

True to my promise and with our financial support, Petey received a transplant when he was old enough. It must have been effective. He made his da a granda twelve times over and Charlie and the boys and I had a passel of young ones who affectionately called us 'uncle'.

Maiocxx

A Five Little Boy Slaves Story

The Sons of Jan and Christopher Dantz

#3

Yoshi and Arico

Epilog

The end,

#4

Monsters in Scotland

Epilogue

The end?