The Control Testimonials -- Part 7: A Response By Steam Train (steam_t2007@yahoo.com)
Dr. Milos Learner, Acting Chairman, National Supervising Committee, `Taking Back Control'
Dear Dr. Learner,
I have recently, like many hundreds of thousands of other citizens read Appendix Three of the First Annual Report onTaking Back Control. Because of my age my parents would probably not approve if they knew I had read Appendix Three, but some High School Seniors who my older sister is friendly with had a copy and she borrowed it to read and I borrowed it from her!
I know that an annual report is legally required by the Taking Back Control amendments to the Federal Juvenile Deterrence Act, but I felt compelled to write to you as the current Acting Chairman of the National Supervising Committee of `Taking Back Control as I too am one of the people affected by the initiative and wanted to tell your committee how great it was to be able to read such a wide cross section of testimonials with such a wide variety of reactions to Taking Back Control with an equally amazing cross section of ages, sex and involvement,
Reading Appendix Three made me realise that I was not alone in my humiliation, embarrassment and suffering.
I can understand why your report and appendix three in particular has found its way onto the literary best seller lists. Everyone enjoys a good arousing story (don't tell my parents I said that) and when you know it is all true and happening right now, out there in this great country of ours it makes the reading of all the testimonials all the more enjoyable.
I am 12 years old and a 7th grade student at Bitter Springs Junior High. In our school district, junior high's start with 7th grade, so I had only just started at my new school when Taking Back Control came into force. Now Victoria County where I reside, is in the warmer south of our great country and because of it's year round warm temperature, it was one of those counties that from the inauguration of Taking Back Control bought in an ordinance, that required all boys aged between 3 and 17, to be nude at all times. The girls were exempted as only the male juvenile population was deemed to be causing concern in relation to unacceptable attitude, aggressive behavior, bullying and excessive modesty.
Having read all the other testimonials, I also wanted to write and tell you how Taking Back Control was different for me in two main ways from many of the testimonials in the report.
One was touched on by one or two of the published testimonials but not by many; that was being made to strip naked and remain that way in front of our family slaves, the other was being much more developed than my peers. This second reason was not highlighted by anyone in the published testimonials.
I was amazed that my daddy so openly and enthusiastically embraced all aspects of `Taking Back Control'. I was bought up by my family to believe nakedness is what separates a free citizen from a slave; now I am forced to go about as naked as the slaves who work the coffles on my daddies' plantation. The only difference between them and me now, is that they are collared and branded, yet my daddy could not see why I was so upset about having to strip naked like one of his slaves.
When I complained to him that I felt like I was being treated like a slave, he just went on and on about the end of the concept of 'private parts' and how the Bible tells us that God made us in his image and likeness and that if this was so, why should I at my age be so modest about showing the world what god gave me?
When I argued that if it was ok for juvenile males to be naked why was it not ok for adults, he lectured me that when you are still a juvenile male, young and impressionable and capable of being molded to achieve the best social and moral behaviour there is no good reason why I should not be made naked! Adult citizenship however, daddy said comes with the burdens of responsibility that set free citizens apart from those in servitude, and there is a need to clearly differentiate the status between the free citizen and the slave by the wearing of clothes.
We all know a slave has no need of modesty, that they are there to serve their masters and the wearing of a slave collar, their symbol of slave status is all they need to wear. However daddy said a free citizen in their adult years like my mummy and daddy needs to wear clothes to symbolize that they are free and responsible citizens.
Daddy said his adult modesty is the result of his being a free adult citizen whereas I as a juvenile should not be forced into such adult modesty and behaviour before it is required.
My daddy told me that he agreed with Taking Back Control when it said modesty before it's time is detrimental to the male juvenile and that he fully supported our counties decision to take back control and banish the false modesty of all the local juvenile males by adopting the `All boys aged between 3 and 17 must be naked' ordinance.
Now no slave of my daddy's would dare look at me directly, whether I was dressed or naked, all our slaves fear me, their young master almost as much as they do daddy. They keep their eyes lowered as a slave should to a free citizen, but that does nothing to hide my naked demoted state from them.
Of course it is not just the act of being naked in front of daddy's slaves that is humiliating and degrading. Whether my penis is shrunken or erect, I can no longer hide any secrets from my family or friends. All the girls and boys at school know when I am erect, there is no where to hide. I found this a very hard reality to suffer.
The county ordinance requiring all boys aged between 3 and 17, to be nude at all times was to come into effect at noon on a Sunday. My father had informed me some days before that date that he planned to organize my undressing as a private family affair. I was thankful for this as some of my friends were petrified of the upcoming Sunday as their parents were planning on revealing them at much more public functions.
Jimmy Kruger and Bobby Masters were being made to attend the group stripping on stage at the local community hall at noon, in front of an audience of parents and female siblings. Trevor Reynolds was going to be stripped at a family BBQ along with his other male cousins and Tommy Burns and David Daniels were attending a neighbourhood BBQ and stripping at a neighbour's plantation.
In my case on the day in question we entered daddy's study as soon as we returned from the Sunday church service. I expected only my mummy and my older sister Veronica who is 16 years old to be present apart from daddy, but to my horror two of daddy's personal slaves were waiting in the study for us. When I objected to their presence, daddy dismissed my concerns with the comment that the two slaves acted as his body servants and if they were good enough to see him naked they were certainly good enough for me.
My family all took positions in the high backed leather lounge chairs that faced daddy's large antique desk. Daddy is tall and slim with cropped dark hair thinning on top and graying at his temples. His face is tanned and well lined, and dominated by a strong nose and a thin, jutting chin. He speaks with a gentleman's southern drawl.
Daddy was dressed in his Sunday church clothes, wearing one of his white linen summer suits with a subdued striped shirt, but gaily colored suspenders, white shoes and socks. He was wearing the local gentlemen's club tie around his neck and a red silk bandanna as his pocket handkerchief. He had left his panama hat with the door slave. Mummy and Veronica were like wise dressed in their best white summer dresses with tasteful but suppressed jewelry as befitted respectful church attire.
I went to sit down with my family but daddy beckoned me not to sit with them but to stand before them. He looked at his fob watch and asked me in a very deliberate clinical voice, "Richard, it is time now time for you to undress so as to conform to the new county law. Be quick about it and let's have no shyness, excessive modesty or silly juvenile behaviour unbefitting your status as my son and heir."
I had heard daddy use this same tone of voice with new slaves he had purchased. Making them shack their clothes in front of him so he could inspect his purchase thoroughly. I felt just like one of daddy's new slaves who had just been ordered to strip, not his 12 year old son. By the tone of his voice, I half expected daddy to begin treating me like one of these new slaves that I had often watched daddy process.
Daddy is always self assured and has that breezy confidence so common in men who are masters. After daddy has had the new slave branded, shaved, and his ID chip installed, they are always bought before their new master, my daddy. This was just how I felt at that time, standing before daddy and my family.
All the new slaves are taught from this very first meeting with daddy that their life has changed, I had the same feeling. They nearly all have that excessive and unctuous manner of a new slave who is trying to hide his fear, I was certainly fearful of what was about to happen too. Daddy has often told me that it never ceases to amaze him how quickly former free citizens become slaves, fear he says is the key to it. Daddy says, strip them, spank them, put a collar on them, inspect every intimate crevice of their bodies and you are well on the way to having created an obedient fearful new slave. I felt like Taking Back Control was trying to do the same thing to me!
Because we had just returned from the Sunday church service I was still dressed in my tailored white summer suit, silk tie, pale blue silk shirt, socks and white shoes. My often unruly hair was on this occasion neatly combed.
Whilst daddy was asking me to remove all my clothing, one of daddy's two slaves who were present in the room came forward holding a wicker basket and the second slave followed closely behind.
Veronica leant over towards my mother and I could hear hushed whispering between my sister and mummy but I could not make out what they were smiling about as I removed my suit jacket and handed it to the second slave, who carefully folded it before he placed it into the basket being held by his fellow slave.
As I started to untie my tie, I began to panic and stopped undressing, looking first at my daddy then my mummy for some support, I guess hoping for some miraculous turn of events that would allow me to stay dressed. I received no such reprieve, only a look of disappointment from my mummy and a look of reproach from daddy.
I could not go on undressing in front of everyone; it was just so humiliating and degrading. I had not been naked in front of my parents since I was a little boy; in fact I had no recollection of it ever occurring it was so long ago. My slave nanny used to wash and dress me till I was ten, but since then I have dressed and washed myself, declining daddy's offer of a personal slave to assist me in such matters.
I dropped my hands, and to my everlasting shame I started to cry, right there in front of my daddy, my family and the slaves. I tried to hide my face from daddy as I knew he would be ashamed of me, his son and heir behaving like a little boy, but daddy saw, he always does!
Daddy said nothing but he was very annoyed at me, I could tell. I had shamed him. He motioned to his slaves and the second slave came forward and finished untying my tie, and removed it. He then started unbuttoning my silk shirt. When it was unbuttoned, I was so shamed at my childlike behaviour that I forced myself to gain a measure of composure. Enough to remove my shirt myself and hand it to the slave.
I then bent down and slowly removed my white shoes and socks and handed them to the slave who put them with my other clothes in the basket. When I removed my under shirt, I heard a slight gasp from my sister, it was obvious she had seen that I was no little boy, even though I was only 12 years old.
I have a tight well defined stomach with a trace of `happy' trail hair already visible running from above the waist band of my boxers all the way up to my indented belly button. My chest was still smooth and hairless but under my arm pits the thick patches of pit hair had obviously been seen by my sister as I lifted my under shirt over my head.
My sisters reaction didn't help lessen how much I blushed as I summoned up new courage and unbelted and unzipped my suit trousers. I stooped to remove them revealing fully my grey and black silk boxer shorts. Again I paused hoping daddy would finish it then and there, but knowing in my heart that the law required total nudity.
When nothing was said I resumed, blushing so profusely I could feel every inch of my face burning like it had never burned before. As I started pulling down my boxers, I tried to turn my back to my family and I covered my groin with my other hand, but daddy motioned to one of the slaves who gently grabbed me and redirected me so I was again facing them all.
"Hands by your sides Richard!" daddy demanded.
Reluctantly I complied; fearful daddy would make the slave remove them with force. As I did this I simultaneously lowered my head and stared toward the ground in shame. I was now totally naked and everyone present could see what I looked like. I blushed even more profusely than before, my blush spreading from my face all over my shoulders and chest. My mummy and my sister sat there gently smiling but daddy was emotionless, he just stared at my exposed shame.
And shame it was, I was so hairy and so developed!
I am five feet four inches tall and weigh a hundred-and-five pounds, I was at that stage where I had lost the soft contours of my pre teenage years, but had not yet developed the full muscular definition of an older teen. However I had started growing hair around my penis and balls when I was still 10. Now at 12, I looked much hairier and more developed than any 12 year old NEWDD or slave I had ever seen. I had a full thick triangle of curly black pubic hair and even a thin but ever thickening `happy' trail of hair running from my pubic triangle all the way up to my belly button. In fact I was so maturely developed down there for a 12 year old that I think I totally surprised my daddy, mummy and sister.
I have a circumcised penis that in the utter shame of that moment was completely flaccid at about 4 inches, but erect I have measured it in private, wishing it would stop growing and it already measures over 6 ½ inches in length. My penis is also quite thick for my young age, and it hangs out because it has to arch over my plump scrotum. Comparing my balls to those of our slaves, mine are almost adult sized; they are very prominent and can't be hidden, like they still are on a lot of my fellow students who are my age.
When I fronted for school the next day, my shame was complete.
Every boy was now naked and I soon discovered that the majority of the guys in the 7th grade who are 12 years of age like me are mostly still hairless and have fairly small penises and balls. A few boys have some small patches of pubes but no one in the 7th grade or the 8th grade for that matter was as hairy or anywhere as developed in the genitals as I was.
Boys and girls on the verge of their teenage years can be especially cruel and uncaring. Now that all the boys were naked and could be compared, my close friends were careful to tread lightly about the size of my genitals and the amount of body hair I had in comparison to themselves, though the other guys and girls at school who weren't so close and particularly the few who openly disliked me were much less guarded in their comments. I was the butt of endless jokes and torment. My name didn't help either. Richard O'Hare, yep you guessed it, `Dick Hair' they began calling me and it became a label which stuck.
Whilst I was smart enough to know that I had to ignore my tormentors so that I didn't get into trouble at school and suffer the added humiliation of being made a NEWDD for fighting or abusive language, I was not good at hiding the fact of how hurtful their comments were to me.
I hated being the odd guy out at school and because of this my anger was on the rise. Whilst I would not actually fight someone for a "Dick Hair" remark, I was becoming more and more verbally aggressive. This would inevitably lead to a teacher hearing my comments or some `goody goody' telling his parents or the school authorities or both, about my behaviour.
My parents were soon very aware of my decline in behaviour but when I tried to explain to my daddy that it was my advanced development that was the problem he refused to allow me to use that as an excuse for my behaviour, saying it was a better problem to have than delayed puberty. Daddy just didn't understand what it was like for me!
I had been jerking off for years, in fact at least daily, but sometimes two or three times a day if the opportunity arose. My ejaculations even after two or three times in a day were always copious; shooting numerous globs of cum, as I enjoyed the sexual orgasm of pleasure they produced. I confess I think I was addicted to masturbation by the time I was 11 ½ years old!
This was the only real advantage I could find in my early development, though it was not something I could use to throw back at those boys in my class with their hairless little dicks and balls and probable dry cums, who were tormenting me. You never confessed you jerked off!
In the third week of Taking Back Control, daddy acted to correct my declining behaviour after the school advised him they were thinking of having me made a NEWDD. No son of a southern gentleman should ever be a NEWDD, daddy told me, it bought shame upon your family.
My mummy was not there but my sister Veronica sat with daddy in the big leather chairs in the study as daddy's slaves acted upon his orders. Daddy had decided that if I had no body hair I could not be tormented as `Dick Hair', so he ordered his slaves to shave me bald from the neck down.
Again I felt like a slave. This was just how they were treated, the only difference being that a slave's head hair was trimmed or shaved as well. When the slave touched my flaccid penis to make sure it stayed out of the way as he ran the electric clippers through my thick pubic bush, I started to erect. When he held my delicate low hanging testicles in his hand as he removed the hairs off my scrotum I went fully erect. I had seen many a slave suffer the same fate. Now I knew just how helpless they all felt, your most private parts being fondled at will.
The slave ran the electric clippers through my pubic bush, over my scrotum, my bum crack, up my happy trail and through my pit hairs reducing every hair to stubble. Then the second slave lathered me up in the same areas, before the first slave ran a sharp razor over all my stubble till I was as smooth and hairless as a little boy. I didn't really look like a little boy with my 6 ½ inch erection now highlighted even more by the lack of hair. With all my pubic hair gone, the only visible sign was a pink rash on my fair skin. Somehow daddy knew, he always knows, I felt better! Daddy had made me look more like a little boy again and when flaccid I knew I would not stand out quite so much.
"Why are you erect Richard? A free man or boy should not act like a common slave. Get rid of that erection!" Daddy ordered.
My sister Veronica giggled, but stopped when daddy glanced at her with a very stern look.
"What! Right here in front of you, sis and the slaves? I panickly asked daddy.
I had often watched slaves being milked and had found the spectacle quite amusing, watching the slave orgasm in public. But this was different, daddy wanted me to do that most private and secret of acts, while he, my sister and his slaves watched!
I couldn't do it! I stood there helplessly, looking at daddy, he merely looked at me impatiently before he said, "Well, what are you waiting for Richard, I'm sure with the package you have, you've masturbated many times, many, many times!
He knew; how did he know? Daddy always knows!
Blushing completely with embarrassment, I reluctantly raised my right hand to my erect penis and seized it behind it's head, making a circle with my thumb and forefinger around my shaft and draping my other fingers around the shaft below my forefinger and began moving my hand up and down my erect penile shaft. Shivers of pleasure ran through me despite the embarrassment of the situation. I slowly stroked myself several times before I picked up the pace of my stroking.
Daddy motioned for one of his slaves to come over to him, and ordered, "Slave when Richard ejaculates, be sure you catch it all as I want to inspect it." Daddy then leaned forward and handed a glass ashtray to the slave, who immediately came and stood in front of me as I continued to jerk off in absolute shock at what daddy had just ordered. I was now defiantly being treated like a slave!
As my fingers slid up and down my penis it was soon throbbing with sensation and pleasure. I could feel the pressure inside building that always signaled impending orgasm. I began to moan with the pleasure and the excitement despite my situation as my balls started to contract as they got ready to pump my seed. Moments later I erupted, The slave who had done this countless times before, grabbed my penis at the last possible moment and forced it down towards the ashtray and held it there as I spurted out four thick squirts followed by several lesser dribbles whilst at the same time I thrust my hips forward and curled my toes as waves of pleasure flowed through me and the "after shocks" ran like electricity through my body.
Daddy broke the silence of his study that was otherwise only punctuated by my rasping breaths.
"Bring it here", he said to the slave, and the slave instantly moved over and handed the ashtray containing my ejaculate to daddy.
Daddy dipped his thumb and forefinger into my creamy deposit of semen lying in the ashtray.
"Excellent colour, very high viscosity, and a large volume for your age Richard", he remarked to me, making me blush some more.
"Send a sample off for testing" daddy instructed his slave. "A good chance to certify that my son's not shooting blanks and will be able to produce me an heir in the due course of time."
So Dr, Learner that was my initial experience with Taking Back Control. I am still immensely humiliated and embarrassed by the programme. I feel that people whisper and even giggle among themselves when I approach. I am sure I have caught a glimpse of even our slaves acting like this, though they have enough sense to correct their behaviour before they get caught out and suffer the whipping such behaviour deserves.
Now after reading the Appendix Three testimonials I worry that daddy will use Maxregressa-Medroxyprogesterone-Acetate, on me as well. He has supplies of it on our plantation and already uses the drug on our domestic male slaves to chemically castrate them. I don't want the size of my genitals reduced back to a little boy's package! Maybe if they could be reduced just a little bit it would be ok, but I am happy with just being shaved till my fellow class mates begin to catch up to me. When they do, I will then be only too glad to have the biggest hairiest genitals in my grade and be the envy of all my peers.
Reading about Hugh Wills, Greg Deller and Mark Shepherd in the testimonials, I don't want to end up with a tiny little boy penis befitting a 7 or 8 years old, that would be just as bad if not worse than having a 6 ½ inch penis at 12 years of age!
Every juvenile suffers under Taking Back Control but it is not only the poorly endowered who suffer added humiliation, embarrassment and pain from this programme; it is also the precocious developers who equally suffer!
Regards,
Richard O'Hare.
THE END.