Destinies By Liam Wheelwright
Note: this story is entirely fictional and set in a future time when slavery is once again legal and normal. This tale does not include any person under the age of 18, however if subjugation of persons at or near age 18 is worrisome, bothersome or troubling in anyway do not read. Also, if mention of a person, who appears over the age of 18 but is mentioned to have been enslaved prior to his 18th birthday is an issue, again please don't read. Thanks.
DESTINIES
A long time from now, long enough that little of the world is recognizable, there existed a small country. It was relatively poor, and its ruler was a cruel man. Slavery had long been a normality in the country; indeed the world had taken again to the slave trade, and the ruler had many, many slaves, and he worked them long and hard and quite brutally.
Now, the ruler's son, was much kinder than his father. Yet, he was still pampered, and spoiled. He treated his own slaves well enough, but did not think of them as much more than anything other than animals
The ruler's son was named Jason.
One day, not long after Jason had turned 18, he woke to the sounds of screaming and fighting in his father's home. Dressing quietly, and quickly, he crept to his door and peaked out to see what he could see.
Before he got much more than a glimpse of the hall outside his room, the door slammed inward, hitting him across the face and sending him sprawling backward. He was struggling back to his senses when hands grabbed him roughly by the arms and pulled him upward. His wrists were quickly bound behind him and soldiers in his countries own livery marched him from the room.
He was too dazed to protest much, and made few intelligible remarks as he was led down the hall, down flights stairs and finally into his father's office.
The room was large, designed to receive dignitaries and other officials. It was also designed to make decidedly uncomfortable, anyone who was unfortunate enough to find themselves in it. It was darkly paneled, and held scenes of his father using and abusing the slaves. Jason was pushed to his knees, alongside a figure barely recognized as his father.
His father, Jason was startled to see was covered in blood, one hand had been heavily bandaged and even the bandage was soaked in crimson. Numerous contusions and bruises covered the Ruler's face.
Behind his father's desk sat a man that Jason recognized from news feeds. He was the head of the Opposition Party. "Opposition Party" was a bit of a misnomer, as they weren't really opposed to much of the countries practices...only the sheer brutality of its current leader.
The man behind the desk was tall, thin, and young. Not too much older than Jason himself. However, the look he gave Jason, when the young man was shoved to his knees bespoke a hatred that Jason couldn't fathom.
Standing, he moved around the desk to stand in front of the bleeding Ruler, and began to speak
"You've ruled us for too long, Renald. Brutally you've abused your power, enslaving hundreds of thousands while barely sticking within the laws that govern how and why a man can be enslaved.
"You've tortured and brutally executed slaves for sport, and while they are animals in the eyes of the law, killing animals has long been a disgusting practice.
"That you had your own wife enslaved, the mother of your child, simply because you got tired of her...it is reprehensible."
Jason gasped upon hearing the last...his father had told him three years earlier that his mother had died suddenly in the night.
The Opposition leader, smiled at this, seeing the horror on the boy's face. "You didn't tell him? You kept it secret from the boy? Amazing...how cold and cruel...."
"BASTARD!", the Ruler screamed, making the first sounds Jason had heard from him since being dumped next to the man. It was a terrible sound, but it was lacking his father's normal baritone.
The other man just laughed
"You think me a bastard now? Really, Renald? Well, wait until you hear what I plan."
And he told them. It was horrible, even more so to Jason.
"You will be executed publically, Renald, for your crimes against the law. And while ordinarily your son would be allowed to go free, an exile...well it's not going to happen.
"You see, three years ago, Renald, you had my brother enslaved. Under the law he's "dead" to his family. I had to purchase him at Market; just to be sure he would come to no harm.
"Under your laws, my brother must serve 10 years as a slave before his Owner can manumit him; but now, under my rule, he will be fully pardoned and manumitted. And before you are so publically executed...you will watch as your son is forcibly enslaved and given to my brother."
Jason nearly fainted, and his father howled with impotent rage. Jason, the son of the country's ruler felt his whole world fall away.
"It gets better," the man said. "Jason will never be released. I will see to it that my brother will never set him free."
Looking up at the soldiers, he said: "Take them to the processing center...make him watch as his son becomes one of the animals he so cruelly abused. Then, bring the slave back here, and take this bleeding, walking corpse to the execution yard."
Jason screamed as he was drug away, his father beside him sullen and quiet; the dictator finally beaten.
Out of the house, through the streets they were marched, the soldiers not even bothering with a vehicle. 20 minutes later they arrived at the nearest processing center, and drug inside, Jason still screaming.
The building was quite sterile, like an overly cleaned hospital. They were led through the reception area, the sales floor, and back into the main facility. There, the soldiers handed Jason over to the staff, and stood back holding on to Renald, forcing him to watch the proceedings.
The technicians brought a chain up from a ring bolted to the floor, and attached it to the cuffs that already bound Jason's wrists behind his back. Then they grabbed scissors and quickly removed Jason's shirt. His shoes, pants and socks quickly were pulled away, leaving him only in tight, lycra cycling shorts...his preferred undergarment.
The shorts left little to imagination, showing the large package of the young man's genitals in all detail. The tech smiled then cut the shorts away, fully exposing the boy's large cock, and low hanging balls
"Very nice, for a slave," one quipped, the other just laughed.
They began to smear cream all over Jason's body, getting it under his arms, and around his cock and balls, and even his ass. Using clean gloves--they were not barbarians--they even smeared it on the boy's face, where he would eventually have been able to grow a full beard.
It began to burn immediately, and Jason writhed in agony. After only 5 minutes however, they wiped the cream away, and with it, the small amount of hair he'd grown since puberty, including his formerly impressive pubic bush of lush long brown hair. Whimpering as the cold air of the center touched his now hairless body, Jason recalled that the denuding process was permanent...he'd never grow hair on his face or body again; slaves weren't permitted body, facial and pubic hair.
Renald, forced to watch, was startled but the sudden transformation his son had already gone through, felt tears coming to his eyes for the first time in years. Brutal as he was...tired as he'd been of the boy's mother...this was his son, his only heir, and now the boy was a slave, and he was going to die soon himself.
The soldiers smiled, and a tech took sheers and shaved off all the hair on the boy's head, though this would be allowed to grow back later.
As the techs prepared to give the new slave his first medical examination, the taller soldier handed one a slip of paper. After reading it, the tech smiled, and handed it to his colleague
"Yes, alright, if that's what the Owner wants, that's what the Owner gets." Moving to a cabinet, the tech rummaged around, and finally withdrew a heavy metal object.
Walking back over to the slave he showed it to the boy. Jason blanched when he recognized it....a "Slave's Belt". The boy struggled to remain on his feet at the implications
A "Slave's Belt" was much like a regular chastity belt...it would hold his cock in a tight tube behind the shield, his balls would be placed in a small pouch also behind the shield, and it would be secured by a tight metal belt around his waist...it would look for all the world like a metal jockstrap, with cup. Where it differed, however, was that it included electronic devices that could shock his genitals as punishment, or for his Owner's pleasure.
Beyond that...once fitted, and properly locked, a Slave's Belt could never be removed. it was designed that way. Even if there was the slightest chance he'd be allowed freedom, the belt would be permanent.
Jason sobbed as the tech began fitting it. Not even allowing the boy the privilege of a final orgasm...but then, that's just what it was, a privilege, and the boy was a slave...he had no rights, and was not allowed privileges.
When the belt was properly fitted, the tech locked it; and jason's knees gave way at hearing the finality of the locking mechanism
They left him on the ground, and retrieved a heavy steel collar. Forcing his head back, they secured the thing around the slave's neck, making sure the Number display was properly visible.
"Well," one of the soldiers drawled, "how'd you like that...your boy isn't a person any more, now is he?"
Renald looked on, tearfully
"Yup," the other said, "now he's just a slave."
Reading from the number display, the first added, "Slave number, 778-901-513."
Hearing that he was a nothing more than a number, Jason finally felt the tears slide from his eyes, and he cried. He cried more than he'd ever cried in his life, and he cursed his father for bringing this fate on them; though, he didn't voice his curses. He knew enough about slavery, from being an owner himself, to know he wasn't allowed. If he spoke now, he'd be gagged, and punished, and he knew how severe such punishments could be
But Renald, cruel, and brutal as he was, managed a weak sob, and uttered the last words he'd ever say in his life..."I'm sorry, Jason...forgive me."
An hour later, 513's processing completed, including being branded with an "S", and having his number tattooed upon his shoulders, and his left pectoral muscle, the soldiers prepared to drag the slave back into the former dictator's office and Renald off to the execution yard. Before they could leave, a phone rang. One of the techs answered, spoke briefly, then handed the phone to the taller soldier.
"Yes Sir?" He listened to the voice on the other end a moment, then added, "Yes Sir, of course." Handing the phone back to the tech, he said to Renald: "Seems your replacement wants a last word with you."
The soldiers laughed and joked as they drug both the slave and the deposed dictator back to the home they had shared for years.
In the office, the man was still there, but there was a younger man, about 513's age, standing next to him. Surprisingly the man was dressed, despite the collar locked on his neck, and upon seeing this 513 knew who the other man was.
The Opposition leader looked up, and smiled, walking around the desk.
"Welcome back Renald." Looking at the new slave, he added, "and 513."
513 was beaten, he had no hope of escape; he knew all that could legally be done to a slave, and all that lay ahead of him, and he did not desire to face that pain...he dropped quickly to his knees, bowed and kissed the Opposition Leader's feet.
"Good." The man said. "Very good slave; but, let me introduce you to your Owner."
He waved the other young man over, saying: "This is my brother, Derrek." He paused; "For the moment, he's still 167, but in the morning the official manumission papers will be processed and he'll be free again. Of course, you will call him `Master.'"
Derrek smiled down at the slave, and 513 shuddered. The smile was cold, three years as a slave had left there mark upon Derrek, but there was something else in his eyes...something 513 couldn't identify. But, Derrek was handsome. Thin, what little hair grew on his head was blond. His eyes were a bright green, and he had an angular face, reminiscent of a statue. He looked like a god of old...if it weren't' for the slave collar still on Derrek's neck, that 513 knew would be removed soon enough when the Opposition Leader manumitted him.
513 groaned quietly in agony as his large cock swelled in its metal prison, but shuffled over to his owner's feet and kissed them
Derrek looked on the slave..."I'm going to enjoy him, brother."
The Opposition leader laughed. Turning to Renald, he asked "How does it feel to see one you truly love forcibly enslaved?" He got no answer; Renald stared broken at the ground.
Looking up at the soldiers, "Renald had a date with the executioner...I've changed my mind. Take him back to the processing center, have him processed and put him on the market."
"Yes, Sir"
As the soldiers dragged the silent deposed dictator away...the Opposition leader added: "And since he seems to want to remain quiet...tell them to sever his vocal cords. He can remain silent forever."
And so it was that the brutal and cruel dictator came to his end, living his life in permanent silence, serving as an animal, doing for others exactly as he'd expected others to do for him
So it was also, that his son was given over to a destiny that neither had ever foreseen
513's life wasn't cruel, after the Opposition government came to power many of the cruelties visited on the slaves were banned; but neither was his life easy. He was property, the slave to the brother of the man who had overthrown his father.
[To be continued?]