All characters and events in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real events or real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Though this work of fiction may contain sexual situations and/or sexual acts between adults and minors, neither the author condones such situations and/or acts.
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A Father's Duty....
Chapter 2, How a slave is made...
I would start by telling you my name, but in the overall scheme of things, it's not really important anymore, but I will say my father's name was Eric...
He was a hard-working man. He instilled into me a sense of duty, honor, and a strong work ethic. Being the oldest son in a middle-class working family meant that when I came of age, instead of a slave, I got handed a decision. I could join a guild like my father had, learning a trade and dedicating my life to it. I could go to a school to learn more general things and then declare my major like law, engineering, science, etc. But of course, this wasn't free and there was no way I could afford that. Or I could join the military.
Well none of those really called to me but watching my father work as hard as he had for the little we had didn't make the guild option look that good. So, feeling like I didn't really have a choice, I joined the military, Marines to be exact.
I joined the Marines the day of my Coming of Age Celebration, announcing it during the party. The next day, as was tradition, I was taken out of school and given to the government to continue my education and begin my physical development. Something most people don't realize is that when a man joins the military after coming of age, he is not immediately sent to training. The government requires another year of school. During that year, I was placed into a large barracks like building where there were rows of single beds and cabinets giving no one any privacy.
All of the guys here would be going into the military, but not all into the same branch. Quickly I learned that Marines hung out with other Marines, Army hung out with Army, etc. In my group there were 17 of us that all arrived at the school within a week of each other, five of which were Marines. So we became a group within the bigger Marines group.
In school, before coming of age, I was given an assignment and a week or two to complete it and plenty of time to do what I wanted in between. But here at this military school, we are given three assignments and one day to complete them as well as attending our physical education, military lectures, meals, and surprise drills that weren't as much of a surprise when they happen almost daily.
Basic Physics, Calculus, Civil Governments... these were not easy courses and if you did drop out, or fail out, of the Military training school it was seen as a disgrace on your family and usually ended up in slavery. I might not have been the brightest guy there, but the thought of humiliating my father was all it took to make sure I did my best.
After a year, it was time for a final exam, physical fitness exam, doctor's exam, and then a military board interview which would determine your specialty and rank upon entering your branch. I did well on all, acing the physical fitness test and doing well enough in my interview to be awarded a lance corporal position, which is the first step in becoming a non-commissioned officer, the highest level of leadership someone from my background could become.
Bootcamp was hard. I wasn't in bad shape but the type of physical shape that the Marines demand is on a different level. We spent hours a day doing physical training, learning how to use all of the different weapon systems that the Marines had, and we spent very few hours a day sleeping. This was my schedule for almost four months. Then we graduated from bootcamp, and I was sent to a leadership course that was part of my final training.
My military service was pretty normal. I advanced to Sergeant but when I was 24, with my first child on the way and newly married, I decided to leave the corp and join the local police. This wasn't as easy as I thought it would be. While I had the military training that the police liked, I failed the first written exam by just one question. The police required a 90% on the written exam covering law. I made an 88%.
In my own defense, the fact that I hadn't slept in a week with my new baby being at home and crying all day and night and my new wife, (a hooker I knocked up during a unit party while I was drunk) left me right after the baby came home from the hospital telling me I was stupid for leaving the corp, were definitely reasons I wasn't doing my best. But when I had to call my parents for help and they said they couldn't afford it, I broke.
I had bills that were coming due from the hospital. I had rent due. I had no money in the bank and everything I did have was going toward caring for my new son. I gave myself a week to find work and when I didn't I called my dad and asked what he thought.
"I'm afraid if you don't pay your bills soon, it wont matter." Dad said very solemnly. And he was right, I would be taken in front of the courts if I didn't get some money soon.
A month later, after the hospital and my landlord filed suit, I was forced to sign over custody of my son to my parents and sell myself into slavery to pay off the debt I had. In less than six months, I had gone from a promising military career to a debtor forced to sell myself to pay off my creditors. The only good thing, any money I made over my debt would go to my parents.
Entering slavery as old as I was usually meant that I would end up at some farm, large industry, or other manual labor type of site. Most slaves did end up at these types of places anyway with only a handful ending up as personal slaves or house slaves. Afterall, very few people had the kind of money it took to buy and maintain a slave, let alone a house full of them. That's why most slaves are called industrial or farm slaves.
I was taken straight from the court room, down through the basement, across a loading dock and put into a large truck where I was read the slavery decree that the judge had signed in front of me upstairs. After that was read, I was chained to the wall and there I had to wait for a couple of hours while other slaves were brought down, and the scene repeated until the truck was full.
After it was full, the door was closed and we were off, having to stand there, chained to the wall, while the truck bounced, bumped, and swayed down the road to a slave processing facility. It looked more like a prison than I had imagined. When the truck was opened, we were let out one at a time and lined up inside the first room. In all there were about 40 of us, all men, between the ages of about 18 to 50.
After the truck was unloaded, and we were lined up, they led us down a long hall with a metal slide bar that a chain attached to our waist was fixed into. The chain kept us in a single file line, and it was the first time I realized how much my life was about to change.
First stop was an identity check, verifying who I was, documenting my background, and building the bio I assumed would be used by the slave site for selling me later. It was cold, impersonal, and even more demeaning when the guy started to laugh after hearing I had been in the Marines and lost everything because I married a hooker and she left. Apparently this wasn't the first time he had heard this story.
Second stop was a doctors like office, if you have ever considered getting a complete physical in a room full of people, cameras, and on lookers. There was no mystery here, I got to watch the guy in front of me strip, then be examined, having every blemish and mark documented. Arms, 16"... Neck 14"... Cock, 2" soft, and laughter erupted. Then a milking like machine was attached to his cock and about three minutes later, 5" erect was announced. Then he was turned around and bent over, "Non-Virgin" and another round of laughs. The final part of the exam involved a long probe sent up the guys ass and after that the doctor gave a thumbs up and the guy was taken into another room, still naked.
Then it was my turn and once I removed my clothes I started to see the cameras even more than before. They documented every tattoo and scar. Making remarks about some of the tattoos, especially the military ones. One thing that is not common knowledge, the military tattoos everyone during basic with a symbol and barcode that allows them to track you on base and on battlefields. Most guys have these modified like I had, into bigger military tattoos, so most people, even if they see them, don't know what they are looking at.
"Verified Military Markings" one of the men called out after carefully examining my ink.
"Arms, 22", Neck 18.5", Cock 5" soft...." I knew what was coming next and I didn't really have a choice but I didn't want to get hard for them. "9.25..."
A little laugh, not like the kind they had made at the last guy, more like the knowing laugh could be heard. "Someone is going to be paying good money for you buddy." The handler said under his breath.
I was physically turned around and with pressure on my shoulders, pushed me over until my ass was exposed. "Virgin" Then the cold metal of the probe touched my ass and I jerked and started to fight. I couldn't do much since I was chained to the wall but I got a couple of good swings out with fists before I felt the shock from a stun gun. I collapsed onto the ground and was immediately turned over on my stomach, wrists restrained and with someone kneeling on my shoulders, the metal probe was roughly shoved into my ass and I blacked out.
I came to in a cell with my wrists still retrained behind me and laying on the cold floor, still naked. After a few minutes I was able to wiggle until I could use the wall to help get me up and seated. And there I sat, looking out into an empty hallway listening to the distant sounds of the medical exams.
They must have let me wait until the group of men I was brought in with had finished processing because as soon as the hall went silent, I could hear the boot steps coming toward me. The guy that had been in the room when I lost it, was now standing in front of me with two other equally well built men in uniform.
"Let me explain how this is going to work." He began, "I read your file. You were convicted of being a burden on society. Now you seem like you are a guy that understands honor and duty, so I am going to give you one more chance to participate in your induction, but if you fight back or fail to follow an order you are given, I will recommend that you be castrated and sent to a manual labor camp where you will spend the rest of what I am sure will be a short life, working like an animal."
During this exchange I couldn't look up at him, I was a little ashamed of how I acted and mad at the whole situation.
"One last thing just in case you aren't as familiar with the law as you think you are. When you are sold at the slave auction house, if you do not make enough money to pay off your debt, it is the right of your debtors to demand your family pay the difference. Now I see your mom and dad aren't very young, so they probably wouldn't make good slaves, but you have a newborn son..."
With that I looked up with nothing short of rage in my eyes. The guy had a wicked smile on his face and I knew, he knew, he had me.
"That looks like it sunk into that thick marine skull of yours." The guy continued. "Now are you going to follow orders like a good little jarhead?"
I nodded.
The guard opened the door, stepped in and closed the door behind him. The two other guards simply turned their backs to the cell and stood there, blocking the door and view. The guard undid his zipper and took out his cock. I was still leaning against the wall with my hands trapped behind me.
"Open your mouth. It's time to prove you understand the difference between a Man and a slave."
I just looked at him and after a few minutes of our eyes being locked together, the guard stepped forward with his right boot and I felt the pressure of him starting to step down on my balls. I kept my eyes locked with his until the pressure was so great that I felt tears starting to come out of my eyes.
I opened my mouth and the guard started to piss. He filled my mouth. I didn't swallow so the overflow started to run all over my chest and down my front. The guard kept pissing but never broke eye contact with me. When he was done he spit into my open mouth then said swallow.
At first, I didn't, I couldn't. I wasn't about to give in until I felt the pressure in my balls go from 8 to 10 in a split second. I swallowed out of instinct because I needed to scream. But as soon as my lips closed, the pressure was gone.
"Now that we understand each other, I am going to go back to my office for a few minutes while these guys hit the head, then we will continue with your processing." And the guard turned around and walked out of the cell. As he did the other two guards turned around entered the cell pulling their cocks out and without warning, both of them just let loose with very acrid smelling yellow streams not aiming for my mouth as much as just aiming at me in general.
After they finished, they turned around and left, leaving the door open... in the next 15 minutes or so, three other guys all came in and pissed on me. One specifically stood on my balls telling me to open my mouth and aiming at it. The others didn't seem to care.
I hadn't made it through basic processing as a slave and I was already marked as a trouble maker....