All rights reserved. Other than downloading one copy for personal enjoyment, no part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted by any means, except for reviews, without the written permission of the author. As in real life, the sexual themes unfold gradually and are kept to a realistic level. Comments on the story are appreciated and may be addressed to the author, Dwight Wilson, at adm2780@yahoo.com
This story contains descriptions of consensual sexual contact between males, adult and minor. As such it is homoerotic, designed for the entertainment of mature adults. If you are not of legal age to read such material, or if the subject matter would create irresolvable personal moral dilemmas, please exit now.
Chapter One: New Horizons
With more than a little trepidation, I reached up and put his member in my mouth. I didn't have time to figure out if it was good or bad because my father came bursting into the room. David and I were both in shock, knowing we were in trouble.
That was fifteen years and a lifetime ago.
Three years worth of lobbying and politics. Long ago I lost count of the number of meetings, luncheons and social gatherings attended; the number of hand shakes, forced smiles and self-discipline required to maintain control to win support for the project. Three years since we submitted the proposal. During that time how many boys have been made slaves?... how many have been raped?... how many, like me, made to pay for the financial mistakes of another family member?... how many lost when vital organs were harvested for a 'free person'? My mind flashes back to the old days when a Senator observed on the senate floor that a slave whose parts were harvested for the benefit of a free person would be proud, as any good slave should be, that part of him lived on to serve his masters - bull shit.
"Good morning Ms Johns, I was asked to meet here at 10:00AM."
"Good morning, Dr. Thompson. You are expected. If you will take a seat I'll let the Governor know you are here." Ms Johns returns giving me the sign to enter the Governor's private office. As I pass by her she quietly wishes me luck.
Entering the office I see Dad, as expected, sitting in front of the governor's desk, I give him a nod of acknowledgement. Then I notice out of the corner of my eye several other people gathered in the room. The governor stands, extending his hand for the customary hand shake, "Daniel, glad you were able to join us."
"Thank you for inviting me over, Governor." As we shake hands I notice a folder on his desk marked "New Horizons Project: Privatization of Care". I notice there is no "rejected" or "approved" stamp on the folder; this gives me hope. I also realize the fate of the project may be decided today and wonder how the project is affected by these other people.
"Daniel, let me introduce you." There is a quick round of introductions, handshakes, and an exchange of pleasantries, ten in all. I know I am too nervous and too excited to be able to remember all the names. Fortunately, I recognize several of the names and realize I'm facing most of the governor's cabinet. I definitely recognize Amos Crawford, the Director of the Department of Children and Family He appears to be a gentleman of about average height and build in his late forties or early fifties, it's difficult to guess due to the worry and stress reflected on his face. The Governor returns to his desk and taps the back of a chair next to my dad for me to sit down.
"Daniel, you've already spotted the file folder on my desk. Let me bring you up to date on the status of the New Horizon Project. These gentlemen and I constitute the committee that must either approve or reject the project. As chairman of the committee, I vote only when there is a tie vote. At our last meeting the vote was four in favor, three opposed, and three requesting more information. If the three abstentions would not affect the final outcome, we would have a decision now, however, those three votes will determine the fate of New Horizon. If one voted in favor and two voted opposed, everyone here knows I would vote in support of the project and it would be approved. Your dad and I have tried to answer as many questions as possible. I've asked your dad to remain with us. The group has questions we believe only you can answer, which is why I asked you to join us this morning."
"Dr. Thompson, let me ^Å.."
I interrupt, "Please, Mr. Crawford, the name is Daniel. There is only one Dr Thompson here and that's my dad. I don't believe I have earned the title at this point."
"Ok, Daniel, ^Å" he responds with a slight smile, "^Å let me thank you on behalf of us all for coming in on short notice. This New Horizon Project proposal has caused quite a stir here in the capital. We understand the project is the result of extensive research you conducted while preparing your doctoral thesis; and, of course, we are all aware of the accolades the thesis has received for its detail and professional observations." I merely nod my head in acknowledgement. " Ron Wilson, the Director of the Department of Corrections which also carries the major responsibility for overseeing slaves and the indenture of slaves, and I, or more correctly my department, are the most affected. What we want to ask you is this: First, what is the underlying personal driving force behind the proposal; and, secondly, why do you believe it will be successful? Keep in mind that we believe if the project does not succeed our departments will be burdened with clearing any administrative or public issues. The magnitude of that burden in terms of demands on human and financial resources is part of the core concerns."
Ouch! Talk about getting hit between the eyes without warning. I remember Dad telling me that in politics you better stay on your toes and be prepared for anything or get out of the way. I pause to collect my thoughts and begin. "I believe we have to look back to the beginning of the current slave system. The country was in a deep depression with high rates of crime, unemployment and the homeless. Prisons and homeless shelters were overcrowded and bursting at the seams, creating a major drain on resources the government believed could be better utilized to rebuild the infrastructure and create jobs. Criminals were pulled from the prisons and the homeless removed from shelters, stripped of their rights as citizens and indentured as slaves for life. Prisons became temporary detention centers; homeless shelters became processing and auction centers. The indentured were then sold at public auction as slaves for life with proceeds going to replenish government coffers. What was a drain on resources became a new source of economic growth. It worked; the economy recovered and has continued to support itself for decades. The problems began after these initial steps.
Over time slavery became a panacea for social ills. Originally, only boys sixteen and older could be enslaved; they had to be eighteen or older for their master to have sex with them. In time, parents with unruly children put pressure on the system to take boys and place them in "rehabilitation centers". With the increased demand there was an increase in the drain on public resources to care for the unruly boys. Two things then happened; first, the government lowered the minimum age of indenture and for having sex with a slave to fifteen. Supervision of slaves was then passed from federal or national control to state control. States then began to enact laws in accordance with the standards of their local communities. The minimum age for indenture and legal sex dropped to twelve or thirteen, depending on the area. Today, in this state, a boy can be indentured at six years of age. We no longer have a minimum age for demanding sex. Hidden within all this were laws allowing parents to have sons indentured according to the guidelines in effect at the time, but the boys were surrendered to the father ^Ö Dad became Master. Remember, the child was no longer a citizen with rights and protection but a thing or piece of property to be cared for and treated as the master saw fit. The thesis contained statistical data establishing a direct correlation between the number of young boys indentured to their father and an increase in the number of boys treated for rectal injuries. We believe there is only one logical conclusion with that correlation. The boys were being used and abused as sex objects by their fathers.
Business also put pressure on families. At one time if a family had financial difficulties, the parents filed for bankruptcy. They could file for a Chapter 7 allowing complete liquidation of assets and debts, or file a Chapter 11, which allowed the debtor to pay off debts over a period of time. At one point Chapter 11 was mandatory unless it could be established there was absolutely no hope of payment. Businesses complained they were financing the indigent and incompetent and began pushing to abolish the Chapter 11 workout. Litigation was filed for children to be declared as property and sold as assets to pay off debts. In time, the court entered a ruling for just such a declaration. Courts recognized the cost of rearing children and theorized that money could be applied to paying off debts, therefore children represented a liability. Balance sheet accounting requires for every liability there must be an asset ^Ö in this case, the children. This became another opportunity for someone who failed in finance to have someone else pay the bills. The statistics from the bankruptcy courts are in the thesis.
What does all this lead to? In the early days of slavery, society prioritized family, country, God, and job or money ^Ö in that order. Somewhere along the line, like a slow growing cancer, those priorities reversed. Money became more important than family. Family was sacrificed for money. We, those who are a part of New Horizon, believe society should reverse this trend."
Mr. Crawford waves his hand for my attention. "Daniel, thank you. When you started that answer I knew you weren't going exactly where we wanted but many of us wanted to hear how you expressed that answer. We understand what you are saying, and don't disagree. We also observed the emotion and dedication in your voice and presentation. What we want to know is what is giving you that emotion and dedication. We want to know about Daniel Thompson personally."
Stunned, I looked at my dad who quietly mouthed "I haven't said anything, your choice." I sit there to collect not only my thoughts, but emotions. I never wanted to have to relive this part of my life again, but I guess we can't always hide that part of ourselves that reminds of grief.
"I am a former slave." There is no way to describe the look of surprise on their faces. You could have heard a dust ball roll across the carpet. There is no way to describe the hurt and emotions I was reliving now. "I am Daniel Whitehurst Thompson, my birth name was Michael. Whitehurst is my mother's family name. Dr Thompson is my dad, but he is not my father. My father helped bring me into this world; my dad molded me into the person I am now. My father had me indentured on my thirteenth birthday ^Ö although I found out later that he had had the papers signed several days earlier, the minimum age at that time was thirteen, therefore the effective date was my thirteenth birthday.
I had a friend, David, who lived several doors down from us. He and I were best buddies from as far back as I could remember. We went to school together, were in scouts, played ball, the usual things kids do when growing up. It wasn't unusual for us to have a sleep over- sometimes at his house, sometimes at mine. Sometimes our parents would kid around about having an extra son.
When we were twelve we began going through puberty as most boys do. The changes happening to our bodies were exciting. We saw what older boys at school were doing for personal relief and thrills. We thought it was a big deal to find a discarded girlie magazine and look at the pictures and what the people were doing. We were curious about our own bodies and sometimes on sleepovers or in the afternoons after school when our parents weren't home, we would go to the bedroom and close the door. We would get naked and pull out the magazine hidden under the mattress. We couldn't believe some of the things we saw in the picture or heard the older boys describing. In the beginning we wouldn't dare touch one another. We sat on the floor giving ourselves thrills. Eventually we did touch one another, but only after repeated blood oaths not to tell anyone." At this point I couldn't help but smile a little remembering those times. "On one of the sleepovers we were looking at a magazine and David said 'Look, he's putting his thingy in her mouth.' We both agreed no way, no how. We both kept looking back at that picture, fascinated. We were seeing what the older boys at school were talking about."
On the Saturday night before my thirteenth birthday which was only two or three days away, we were looking at that same picture and getting so worked up we could hardly stand it. It became one of those 'I'll do you if you do me' things and we agreed. We would do it one time and one time only just to see what it was like. We flipped a coin and I won. We were both naked by now and David got down on his knees ^Ö I don't know who was more scared or excited; me or him. Anyway, he did me and it was my turn. I got down on my knees and sat back on my ankles. With more than a little trepidation, I reached up and put his member in my mouth. I didn't have time to figure out if it was good or bad because my father came bursting into the room. David and I were both in shock, knowing we were in trouble. My father looked at me and screamed, I mean SCREAMED, 'What the HELL do you think you're doing, you dam little faggot queer.' His face was all red and he was the maddest I had ever seen him. He left the room hollering for David to get out of his house and don't ever come back. I was shaking like a leaf and saw David run out. My father came back a laid into me with a barber's strop.
I don't know how many time he hit me. I cried, no I screamed, out that I was sorry. I kept repeating it and promising never to do it again. He kept calling me a fag. Each time he hit me I thought I was going to die it hurt so bad. Before he stopped I don't think there was a square inch on my body he hadn't hit and didn't hurt." At his point I had tears welling up and had to stop for a moment to hold my composure.
Mr. Crawford injected at this point, "Daniel, you can stop we didn't know and didn't mean to put you through this."
"Mr. Crawford I think I need to continue. When you know the full story I believe you will understand why I am so passionate about this project.
I remember being carried downstairs over his shoulder. I was still sobbing out 'I'm sorry' and he was spanking me with his bare hand. I remember seeing my mother and calling to her for help. She called out to my father and he told her to stay out of this, he wouldn't have a faggot for a son. He took me down to the basement, tied my hands together and then tied them to a pipe, leaving me only a little rope to move with. I heard the basement door open and then he yelled at my mother. She told him 'That's my child too and I will go to him.' He told her not to pamper me - I wasn't worth it.
My mother brought down a wet washcloth and wiped my face. I looked at her and cried some more telling her we didn't mean to do anything bad, we were just curious. She looked at my body, saw the strop marks, and began to cry. I didn't even think or care about the fact I was naked in front of my mother. She cradled me in her arms telling me to stop crying and things would work out after my father calmed down. I spent that night on the basement floor ^Ö naked, scared, and covered in my own sweat and tears. It was July in Florida and there was no real ventilation in the basement.
He didn't calm down. He came down again, I don't know if it was that same night or the next day since the basement was pretty dark and I had no sense of time, he brought me a bowl of water and told me how worthless I was. Before he left he bent down and spanked me on my bare butt with his hand. I remember how much it stung. I cried and kept begging him 'No, Daddy, no, I'll be good.' He called me fag and left. Later, my mother came down with some food, I heard my parents arguing and Mama telling him she would not let me go hungry. I didn't care about the food, but really wanted Mama.
My mother cradled me in her arms and kept telling me softly that everything would be all right. 'Your father says this will all end tomorrow, so just be patient baby.' I'll never forget her telling me that. By now there were no more tears in me to shed. I had been in the basement for two or three days by then, still tied to the pole. The last time she was down there she tried to relieve some of my misery by wiping me off with a cool damp cloth. The cloth felt good but her touch is what I remember most.
My father was true to his word, my misery in the basement ended the next day when the officials came to haul me off to the slave center. I remember Mama pleading with them not to take me; she was beating on my father's chest screaming 'How could you do this to your own son? YOU BASTARD!' It was all a blur, really a nightmare. I never saw my father or that house again." At this point I realized that somewhere while telling this I had become transfixed and allowed myself to block out where I was and who I was speaking to. I was reliving the nightmare, talking with tears streaming down my face. I felt the familiar comforting hand on my shoulder, my dad standing there for support.
"Daniel, take a break and let me finish this."
"Dad, I need to do this, just let me take a deep breath." I took a deep breath and braced myself to finish. "At the auction they announced I had been indentured to my father, later I learned he got the money bid for me. I was sold to one of the most sadistic individuals anyone could ever imagine. The humiliation, degradation and pain I had to endure is indescribable. Somewhere along the line something snapped and I ceased to live, I just existed unaware of time and place. I remember my master turning me over to a new master. My new master helped me become human again. In time, my freedom and rights of citizenship were restored by his generosity. More importantly, I also gained a new father and family." My account ended, I looked at the gentlemen in the room and Dad, nodded and left the Governor's office telling Dad "I need a break, I'll be back in a few minutes." Dad patted me on the shoulder and I heard his voice as the door closed behind me.
"Gentlemen, I can only ask you to appreciate that this is the first time Daniel has ever been able to tell that whole story to someone other than his counselors. Now, let me tell you the parts he left out. Daniel was sold to a man I shall only refer to now as Bob, that of course not being his real name. Bob and I were both professors at the university and pretty good friends. I never had a clue that Bob had a secret personality that revealed a frightening level of sadism. Not only Bob, but also he had two sons, one only a few months older than Daniel, that shared the sadistic trait. I'm not going to burden you with the details of what I know Daniel endured; I will tell you that if I started describing some of the events you would think I was reading from an account of the Spanish Inquisition.
I knew Bob had a house servant and had a pretty good guess it was a slave. He told me it was a local boy he got at a good price. I had told him I had always wanted a house servant but there was no way I could ever afford that luxury. After a few months Bob began to complain the boy didn't satisfy his family's needs. The boy was described as fairly young, in his early teens, and not trained well or experienced enough. One day Bob approached me and said he was going to sell the boy and I could have him at a good price. He also told me not to expect too much. I only needed someone for light cleaning and wanted someone quiet. We negotiated and I bought the boy - Daniel.
I met Bob at his house, paid the agreed amount and was rather surprised when they brought the boy to me. His hands were cuffed behind his back, he was wearing a metal collar and they led him by a chain. His clothing consisted of a pair of light cotton gray pants and a matching t-shirt. The boy always looked down. Bob explained to me the rules required he be delivered this way and the boy was trained to never look a master in the face unless so ordered. Daniel really looked haggard; he was underweight and very pale. I placed him in the back seat of the car as advised and proceeded home.
When we got home I took him inside, still concerned over his appearance. I asked him, "Daniel, are you alright? Do you need anything?"
"Sir, I am fine, Master, and require nothing."
While we were talking I was removing the cuffs binding his wrists. When I did this I noticed a couple of marks on his upper arm but dismissed them as something that happened while working at Bob's house. I had him turn around to allow me to remove the collar and chain. As soon as they were removed, Daniel dropped down on one knee, placed his hands flat on the floor and bowed his head. "Master, sir, I am here to serve and please you. Is there anything master desires?" I don't know if I was surprised or shocked. When I looked down I did see more red marks around his shoulders and became concerned.
"Daniel, stand up and look at me." He stood but continued to look down. 'Daniel, look at me." I lifted his chin and saw he was crying; I asked why?
"Master, sir, please forgive me. I know I am doing wrong and will be punished. Where does master wish me to go for punishment?"
"Daniel, I don't know why you think I am going to punish you. Were you punished much by your former master?"
"Sir, I was punished when one of the masters decided I needed it to make me a better slave. If a master decides the slave is not performing as expected and needs discipline, a good slave willingly submits. A slave exists only to serve and please the master, who is always right. I try my best to be a good slave master."
I was a little dumbfounded. I had heard of these rules but never been involved experiencing them. "Daniel, how often were you punished? I want to know now. Also, when was the last time you were punished and why?" Daniel looked at me almost pleadingly, begging not to answer the question. "Daniel, I want the truth. You will be in trouble only for not telling me."
"Master, sir, I was punished almost daily for being a sorry slave. The last time was just before you took me. The young master wanted one more round of sex with me before you came. Master said I was a pitiful cock sucker and whipped me."
"Daniel! Are you telling me the truth?"
"Master, please, I beg you^Å" At this point he fell to his knees groveling at my feet. "... it is forbidden for a slave to lie on punishment of losing his tongue or even death. I beg you master, please don't whip me for telling." Tears were running down his face.
I was more than dumbfounded. My god, he wasn't even fourteen and afraid of my every move. I reached down to pull him up, when I touched his back he screamed as if in pain and jumped away. "Master, please, I am sorry^Å"
"Daniel, don't say any more. I'm going to ask you some questions and I want you to either nod for yes or shake your head for no, understand? He nodded. Are you in pain? He nodded. Do you understand that I am not upset with you and am not going to punish you? He paused, and then nodded. I want to see your body. Now, stand still." I lifted his shirt and was almost sick. He grimaced when the cloth moved against his skin. I then pulled out the waist of his pants and knew he had been given a severe beating. The marks appeared to have come from some kind of chord. The sight was sickening. I asked if it would be painful for me to pull the shirt off and the look of anguish gave me the answer. I cut his clothes off and felt as though I wanted to cry for him.
I treated his wounds with a warm bath and salve. I then put him in the bed in the guest room and told him to get some rest. The next morning I awoke to find him sleeping on the floor, at the foot of my bed. You wouldn't believe how difficult it was for me to get him to accept the guest bed, which became his, and also, to wear clothes; it seems most house slaves are kept naked. On the doctor's suggestion he was allowed to remain naked until the wounds healed to a point. There were several weeks of medical treatment to restore his physical health and months upon months of psychotherapy to restore his mental and emotional well being.
During all this I used my contacts to find out who he was before enslavement. His school records showed excellent grades and there was no suggestion of disciplinary problems. When the doctors felt he could handle it I arranged for Daniel to be home schooled. Of course, he did well and as they say the rest of that is history.
I also investigated the grounds for his indenture. Court records showed his natural father was in serious financial trouble with a number of suits being filed weeks before Daniel turned thirteen. When indentured, he was assigned to his father as master. Daniel was not indentured by his father because of what he and David had done; it was planned for several weeks to bail the father out of financial trouble. After the auction, Daniel's mother, Linda, intercepted the check and deposited the funds out of the father's reach. It was her intent to try to locate the boy and get him back. The parents divorced not long after and the father committed suicide about a year after the indenture.
It didn't take much to locate his mother. Initially I advised her that I had him and what my intentions were for his future. I never gave her any of the morbid details of what he had been through and what it was like when he first came to me. Daniel was freed on his sixteenth birthday and with his mother's blessings, I adopted him as my son. His mother was present for the proceedings and they continue to have a good relationship to this day. As for the money, she still had it when I contacted her. She gave me the money at the time of adoption and it was placed in a trust account for him. Daniel has donated all of the money to the New Horizon Project.
Gentlemen, after hearing this story if you are not convinced that Daniel is totally dedicated to the success of this project I don't believe there is any more anyone can say. The proposal identifies the project's financial strength and the backing of prominent citizens and businesses. This is due mostly to Daniel's efforts.
End Ch One To Be Continued