This is my first submission to Nifty and is a work of fiction set in a world struggling with the question of slavery. If this offends you please stop reading now.
I can prove it to you Part 1. I should have listened to my friend.
Stay clear of him Andrew,' my friend warned. He may be hot and gay but Parker's family is in the slave business. You don't want to be part of his circle. Your life will never be the same if people connect you with him.'
I was used to hearing about slavery since it was re-introduced when I was 12. The new rules were color blind according to the politicians. News stories seemed to confirm that was true, with the slave population being predominantly white but including all races. They were all men because women were exempted from the slavery regulations, and they were mostly convicted criminals.
Some slaves were sentenced to lifetime slavery while others chose optional term-limited slavery of 5 years or less, sometimes offered by the courts as an alternative to jail for less serious offences.
No one wanted to end up a slave. That is, except for the few men who gave up their personhood as a last voluntary action for the rest of their lives. A life of servitude appealed to this small select group, and these were by far the rarest and most sought-after slaves at auction and in the aftermarket. Still, according to the quarterly statistics quoted by the politicians, there was a small but steadily growing number of these men joining the ranks of the enslaved each year.
People in the slave business like Parker's father, who had a government contract, would often be quoted in the news saying that their business might not appeal to everyone, but it's an efficient way to keep the costs of running the prison system down, raise funds for the treasury through auctions of the newly enslaved, and reduce crime.
I wasn't really convinced. Slavery seemed like something that didn't belong in the modern world, and ever since I reached voting age at 18 six years ago, I had always voted for anti-slavery politicians, or at least those candidates who promoted slave wellbeing.
It wouldn't be fair to hold Parker responsible for his family's connection to slavery; he didn't start or run the business. But, even so, I did my best to keep my distance. It wasn't easy. We worked at the same company. I was freshly out of college, and he was a few years older than me and already moving up the management ladder. He wasn't my boss, but we still crossed paths at work on occasion.
He was always very friendly, usually patting me on the shoulder with a comment like `Andrew, how're they hanging?' as he walked by. I tried not to engage or even make eye contact, but it took a lot of will because, if I didn't mention it before, he was handsome.
At about over 6 feet, with dark hair, always a 5-o'clock shadow, he wore tailored shirts that hugged his pecs, biceps and delts, and you could tell he was hung. On more than one occasion I found myself wondering if he wore underwear because I could swear that his dick was swinging back and forth as he walked down the hall past my station.
Things got more intense one lunch hour when I was sitting on a bench in the office courtyard. Parker walked right on up and sat down with me. I nodded hello and tried to focus on my salad.
`You're always eating healthy stuff, Andrew. That's a good thing. I want you to keep that up. You're really lean but you need to work out more. Come to my gym with me after work and I'll show you my routine.
`You're only what, 5'8", and 145 pounds? We can make you into something.'
I said thanks but told him that I already had plans.
Without even knowing what was on my calendar he came back with `this is your priority. You should be in top shape. It's important. Tell me that you'll meet me at my car at 5 and we'll go from here.
It felt great to be the focus of attention from such a hot guy but I remembered my friend's warning and said `thanks but no.'
It didn't seem to faze him, but I really felt awkward when he came back with `it's because of Number One Slaves, isn't it?'
I decided that the only way out of this was to face the awkwardness and cut the conversation short: `Yes, I'm sorry Parker, if it weren't for your family business, I'd jump at a chance to spend time with you.' I stood up to make my way back into the building.
It's really not that bad,' he said. Number One treats its products better than any other business. We're known for being really humane. Most of our slaves are happy by the time they go to a customer.'
I said `sorry, you're not going to change my mind on slavery Parker.'
He jumped in front of me. `I can change your mind. You will agree with me and tell me that slavery is right. I'll prove it to you.'
I side stepped him and speed walked back to my desk.
For the rest of the afternoon my mind kept racing. I really wanted to spend time with this incredibly good-looking man. My dick was hard as a rock and I shifted in my chair as I imagined being at the gym. I pictured him spotting me, touching me as he showed me how to do his routine and, even more, I couldn't help fantasizing about being in the shower with him afterward. I even started to imagine what his cock looked like. Was he cut or uncut? What would it taste like if his dick was in front of me and I could reach out with my tongue to his slit and lick up his pre-cum? Would he fuck me gently or impale me in one relentless thrust?
In the few moments of clarity between daydreams, I wondered how on earth he expected to prove to me that slavery is right.
I alternated between desperately wanting to see what would happen if I went with him to the gym and, on the flipside, holding to my convictions. That is, until 4:55.
I had just decided to avoid Parker and head out the side door to make my way home when he appeared at my cubicle.
`Is that your gym gear?' he said as he pointed at the bag in the corner under my desk.
`Yeah, but I decided not to. Thanks though,' I answered.
`No' is not an option bud. We're on the way to my gym where I'm going to mold your body and start the process of making you agree with me about slavery.' He playfully grabbed my bicep and the back of my neck, and I gave in. It felt good to be touched by him and when he rubbed the hair on the back of my head I was mush.
When we got to his car, he opened the door for me without taking his hand off the back of my head until I sat down. While he walked around to the drivers door, I felt an electric tingle down my spine; I loved that he was treating me like I was someone important to him.
OK, let's go, but before we do, I want to hear you say "I want to go with you".
`I do. Let's go,' I said.
`No, that's not what I told you to say. Look at me and tell me you want to go with me.'
He locked me in his gaze and I repeated back `I want to go with you," I said, thinking that this was a bit weird but also noticing that he had the most amazing grey eyes.
He started driving and after a few blocks he said. `You know I work at Number One on the weekends so I know all the staff and with my family owning the company I can arrange a tour for you. It'll change you. Your outlook will be completely different.'
It was well known that slavery companies operate under strict security. And companies that process new slaves, like Parker's family business, are required by the government to have even higher standards. The media were always trying to do inside stories about the slave sector but it was really rare for anyone to get a glimpse inside.
`I thought slavery companies don't allow outside visitors,' I said.
`That's true, but it's important to me to prove my point to you. We'll have to follow all the rules --there are lots of them and you'll think some are pretty strange -- but I'm sure I can set it up.'
`I don't know,' I said. The idea of visiting a slave company sounded a bit scary. But I have to admit I was kind of interested in seeing it. And spending more time with Parker was really appealing.
Parker shut off the ignition with `Ok, we're at the gym. Play your cards right and maybe we can do something fun afterward.' He made eye contact again. I nodded an enthusiastic yes, and we both got out of the car.
More to come. Your feedback would be awesome. alexsub@nym.hush.com