How do you think you'd feel if you were a straight 13-year-old boy and you were stripped to your briefs, displayed in front of a crowd of horny homos? Well, that's how I felt.

My Stepdad acted real friendly toward me after mom went into the rehab place for her drugs and drinking. Stepdad married my mom less than a year earlier. To show his dedication, he immediately adopted me. At the time I thought that showed he cared about me. He confided to me that he worried he'd have to send my mom "to get help," and he wanted to be sure I had a legal guardian.

Without mom around, he started taking me along to his gym. It had great facilities, but something about the men made me feel creepy. I once told Stepdad that I didn't want to shower there because I thought some of the men in the locker room were queer and looking at me. Stepdad just laughed and said that I should take it as a compliment if queers looked at me.

"In fact, we oughta give them a treat."

With that he pulled off my towel and revealed my dick and ass to the delighted crowd of men.

Often he would introduce me to a "friend," in the locker room. These were always lecherous old men. These introductions would more often take place when I was stripped to my briefs or naked in the shower. But, I figured, it didn't really hurt me. I humored Stepdad, appreciating how much he was doing for me. He kept a countdown to my 13th birthday, and hinted that he had a very special treat planned.

On the day I turned 13, Stepdad said we were taking a small plane for a father-son vacation up in the Canadian Rockies. I ate some delicious snacks Stepdad provided, and then slept for most of the flight. Stepdad had his arm over my shoulder as we got off the plane. I saw a sign that said "Wyoming" and reacted with a start. Stepdad explained that there had been a problem with the plane, so the pilot had to land here. "Just relax."

Everyone knew that Wyoming had been the first place in North America to adopt an Indenture System – in other words, Slaveboys! All of Wyoming's natural resources dried up decades earlier. Their trick for rebuilding the Wyoming economy was to introduce sexual slavery for boys and young men. By the time other states followed, Wyoming already had an infrastructure of auction houses, slave emporiums and boy brothels. Then to compete with those other states, Wyoming lowered the age of indenture from 18 to 16.

Because of this, boys would regularly find themselves in Wyoming, after being waylaid or tricked. But that was only for boys over 16, and I had just turned 13.

Two black uniformed Slave Cops came toward us. Stepdad tightened his grip on my shoulder as one of the guards started reading off articles of indenture to me.

"You are stripped of the citizen's rights of a free man. You are now chattel property…" and all the following claptrap.

I stiffened and Stepdad now grabbed me around the middle to hold me in place.

I looked up at him. Of course he knew all about this. He had arranged it.

I turned to the Slave Cop and interrupted him by shouting out, "I'm not yet 16. I just turned 13 today."

Stepdad chuckled.

"They lowered the age of indenture in Wyoming to 13 starting today. So your birthday fell just perfectly boy. You'll be the youngest boy sold as merchandise in the state of Wyoming. That should bring in a helluva good price."

At first I struggled and tried to kick when the Cops grabbed me. But then one touched my neck with a slave prod. The next thing I knew, he was picking me up off the floor, even as the pain continued to course through my body.

The Slave Cops pulled me into a nondescript room. Stepdad had been joined by a nasty-looking man. McGhee was a slave trader – so fat he was actually round. That was accentuated by his brightly checkered suit. Once in the room, McGhee was all business. He snapped his fingers at the two Cops.

"Get this kid stripped. I need to examine the merchandise."

The two muscular men in uniform pulled off my shirt and pants, leaving me in just a pair of white briefs. I tried to hold my hands over the pouch of the underpants, but the two Cops pulled my hands behind me and cuffed my wrists. At the same time, McGhee was fastening a slim collar around my neck. My cuffed hands were attached by a short chain to the back of the slave collar. Then McGhee reached down the front of my briefs. But he didn't play with my dick, he just put a thin chain behind my balls.

McGhee snapped at me to "stand up straight, you impudent pup." He showed me a buzzer and said, "The chain around your balls is electrified." He didn't have to say more. I stood up straight in my white underpants with my handcuffs attached to my slave collar.

McGhee's hands started moving over my body, rubbing, kneading, and pinching my flesh as I squirmed. His hammy hand went down the back of my briefs and grasped each globe of my ass. He squeezed each cheek and ran the side of his hand up and down my crack. When one thick finger pushed at my butthole, I tensed my whole body and shouted, "Ow."

All this time Stepdad was watching patiently from the back of the room.

"I married his mom because of this adorable boy. It's not like she had money – all that disappeared in booze and pills. Besides, if you get rid of a rich widow for her money, people get suspicious. But if you act like a loving Dad to a teen boy left alone in the world, you're a great guy." With that he laughed hard and loud, then added, "Look at how cute he is. He's gonna go for a damn good price."

By that time, McGhee's fingers were massaging my cock inside my briefs. I closed my eyes and tried my best not to go stiff. But hell, at age 13, your cock will go stiff in anybody's hand. I couldn't help boning up. Then the obese man had to look at it closely.

He chuckled, "We don't even have to shave anything on this one."

Once done with that, he pressed a button on the wall and two powerfully-built African slaveboys came in. McGhee told them to give me an enema and a complete body shave – whether I needed it or not. Then he added that they should give me two enemas, just to be safe.

The black slaves dragged me away to a truck where I was chained in the back, and from there to some sort of warehouse-like facility. They took me to a slave bathing room and lathered up my body for shaving.

When I struggled and insisted I wouldn't let them do it, the taller African said, "Look, boy, we are slaves, and now you are a slave as well. It's hard enough when you are under orders to do a task, why d'you gotta make it harder for us?"

He was right. They were only doing jobs they were forced to do. They were very quick and thorough in shaving my hairless crotch, as well as my balls, under my arms, and on my lower legs. Then came the humiliating experience of having two men give me an enema. I'd prefer not to go into details. I'm glad I stopped making a fuss. Both of these slaves were kind to me.

I was handed all my clothes and told to get dressed. First I thought maybe they were letting me go. Maybe it had all been a practical joke? But that wasn't it at all.

McGhee brought me out onto a stage wearing my faded jeans, my checked shirt unbuttoned with my white undershirt showing, sneakers, white socks and white underpants. If not for the slave collar I looked like any other 7th grade boy. I was no longer handcuffed, but McGhee held the buzzer for my electric shock cock ring in his hand.

"This is Wallace. But you can call him Wally. Well, if you buy him you can choose what to name the lad. Wally had the good grace to turn 13 on the very day that the great state of Wyoming made it legal to purchase and use 13-year-old boys."

There was raucous cheering from the crowd, mixed with some laughter. Then they began chanting, "Strip him! Strip him!"

McGhee held up his hands and said, "If I asked Wally to do a sexy striptease for you, it would just be clumsy and awkward. So instead I'm ordering Wally to pretend he's back in the school locker room getting ready for swimming practice."

Onstage was a low bench and an open locker, just the kind we have in our locker room. The slave trader motioned to me and I slowly began to pull off my shirt, hanging it in the locker provided. I sat on the bench to take off my sneakers.

When I stood up, I figured I'd take off my shirt. But instead I unzipped and lowered my jeans, stepping out of them. They were so tight, my socks came off along with the pants. My long white t-shirt was hanging down below the crotch of my briefs, that's why I chose to leave it on a little longer. But the time came and I had to peel the thin cotton fabric up over my smooth chest and down my arms.

One man called out, "Look, no hair in his armpits."

But another voice responded, "They shave these boys for the auctions."

McGhee chuckled and said, "No, no, in this case the boy had nothing to shave. If you buy him, you're getting him in his natural state."

I was stripped to a tight pair of white briefs. When I looked out at the crowd, men were making lewd gestures at me. Some men had pulled their dicks out of their pants and were jerking off looking at me and catcalling.

McGhee swiftly placed the handcuffs on my wrists again and attached them by chain to my slave collar. He spun me around and shouted, "I know this is what you wanna see." Then he pulled down just the back of my briefs and ran his hand up and down along my ass crack.

"How'd you like to be the first man between these cheeks? We know he's straight. We know this ass is cherry. How bad do you want it?"

Then he made me face the crowd again. He held a microphone to my mouth as he said, "Introduce yourself, boy. What do they call you?"

At first I didn't want to reply, but he toyed with the buzzer in his hand and I said, "I'm Wally… W-Wallace… but everyone calls me Wally."

"And tell the nice gentlemen how old you are, Wally."

"Th-thirteen. Today is my 13th b-birthday."

The men laughed at my nervousness.

"Tell us, Wally, are you a homosexual? Have you taken a lot of cock in your young life?"

All the men were laughing so I had to shout, "No!" and then I repeated it even louder.

McGhee faced the delighted crowd and said, "I promised you straight cherry boy ass! And here he is – Wally."

The men cheered and the slave trader opened the bidding at $10,000.

A harsh spotlight was trained on me and another on McGhee. I couldn't see any of the crowd with the light in my eyes, so I didn't know who was bidding. But I was amazed when the price passed $50,000. Then it just kept going higher past $100,000 until it finally settled at $180,000. I had overheard someone say that my Stepdad would receive 50% of my sale price. I did the math in my head.

When McGhee announced the winner, a huge, lumbering bear of a man came running up to the stage. He towered over me, but then I was only 5'2". His torso and everything about him was wide and large and covered with hair. The sprigs of white hair showing at his collar seemed to connect to his neatly-trimmed white beard.

The huge man looked at me and said, "You're gonna learn to be a good boy for Grandpa."

Then he wrapped his thick arms around me and pulled me to his body, lifting my legs off the ground. Both his paw-like hands reached into the back of my tighty whities and grabbed my butt cheeks. And he kissed me right on the lips. I was so shocked, I couldn't defend against the invasion of his tongue into my mouth.

Then Grandpa (as I came to think of him) turned to the crowd and said, "I'll take his cherry right here. Why should I deprive you of the show."

Multiple men grabbed each arm and each leg. I was laid on a black leather table on my back. Each arm was held away from my body by two strong men. Each leg was held by two men, spread wide and lifted up in the air. My briefs were ripped off my body. I looked up between my legs and saw my new owner undressing. For a white-haired old man he was well-muscled, with thick biceps and impressive pecs. He did have a beer belly as you'd expect in a man his age.

A slaveboy came running out onto the stage. He moved so quickly and kept his head lowered that I don't even know what he looked like. Next, he was kneeling between my legs and I felt his fingers spreading my cheeks apart. His tongue then slid up and down in my crack searching for my anus. Soon he was tongue-fucking my ass and I was squirming with pleasure.

Then I saw my Master's huge erection coming toward me. The big man pushed the ass-eating slaveboy aside and positioned his cock at my hole. He grabbed my hips and thrust his cock forward just two inches. My face scrunched up with agony. He rotated his hips to the left then to the right to try to pry me open. Then he eased his cock back so I relaxed a bit. That was when he slammed all the way into me. I screamed as loud as I could. I felt his hairy bush on the backs of my smooth thighs, and his big hairy balls on my smooth butt cheeks.

He started kissing my lips tenderly, starting with little nibbles on each lip. His cock also moved in a leisurely way sliding back just a little bit, then sliding in again. Soon each time he pulled back he went further, and each time he slammed his cock into me he fucked me harder.

I didn't understand then how many nerve endings are connected to your butthole. Sensations were coursing through my body. As Grandpa fucked me harder and faster, I started to tongue wrestle him. I could feel the heat of the bodies surrounding us as the men moved in closer. One man shot his cum right on my face. Without missing a beat, Grandpa leaned down and started licking the guy's jizz off my face, even licking my eyelids.

Then the old man steeled himself. His body went still and stiff. His cock was throbbing inside me and I could feel it shooting cream deep into my guts. There were cheers from the crowd of men.

Grandpa looked directly into my eyes and said, "You belong to me now. You understand that, don't you, boy?"

I gulped, nodded and said, "Yes sir."

Then in a loud voice, he said, "Your mother was June Fletcher."

I stammered before I got out the words, "Y-yes sir."

"Don't blame your mother for the wreck of her life, Wally. I was her Dad and I left the family. I had to leave because I knew I wanted to fuck boys. That's why I moved to Wyoming when they first introduced boy slavery."

Men were amazed and whispering to each other.

Grandpa continued, "I will raise you like my grandson, boy."

Before I could thank him, he continued, "With the understanding that you are legally my property. As my slaveboy you will follow all my orders, without question. I will take my owner's rights with you, Wally. In fact, you will sleep in Grandpa's bed."

His cock was still stiff inside my butt. He started moving his hips from side to side and smiled down at me. As he began to fuck me a second time, he turned to the men and said, "Alan and Burt, you two go first. Then the rest of you can line up behind them. My new slaveboy needs experience sucking cocks. He can start with yours."

Grandpa was pumping his cock in and out of me with all the vigor he had the first time around. Meanwhile some big black dude was working his fat cock between my lips. I gagged just from trying to open my lips wide enough. He caressed my face and smiled down at me. I tried again and managed to take the fat black cock.

Years have passed. I still live with Grandpa as his grandson and his slaveboy. I take high school classes online. It's an all-slaveboy school so it's not unusual for the students to be naked or in little briefs. Because it's a school for slaveboys, I'm required to take classes in Slave Behavior and Slave Etiquette. Grandpa enjoys watching.

I don't know what my future holds, but I know I live to make Grandpa happy.

The End