THE LABOURER by Pete Brown. petebrownuk @ yahoo.com
Read all of Pete's stories in groups.yahoo.com/group/petebrownseroticstories
Part 17
I lay there a s Master Rob fucked me. At one time I'd have been utterly humiliated at taking a man's dick, especially the dick of the guy who was my oldest buddy. But now it was all right - Mister Rooney wanted me to, and so I did. And when Rob had finished, I thrilled as Mister Rooney dropped his pants, then his boxers ,and I saw his long, thick dick spring into life as he approached me.
"Are you ready to take me, Steve?"
"Of course, Mister Rooney", I said. "Do you want me to stay like this, or could I ask you if I could turn over, please sir? I'd like to watch you, sir, as you use me, sir.."
He smiled, and said "Yes, Steve - we might as well both enjoy it! On your back, then...."
Gratefully I rolled over and lay there, then, as he stood between my legs, I pulled them up then grasped my ankles so that I could open up as wide as possible to make it easy for him. "This is a bit different from last time", Mister Rooney said laughingly to Rob "See, he's part of it now, joining in, making it fun for both of us - do you remember how we had to tie his legs back before?"
"Yes, Mike. It shows what a whipping can do! Why don't you have all the servants whipped, routinely?"
"If only I could! But the law is quite strict! A five year or less contract doesn't allow for whipping, only the cane and the tawse. If you hadn't agreed to the extension of his indenture, I couldn't have ordered it at all."
At one time I'd have been furious at Rob's betrayal of me by agreeing to the extension when I'd trusted him to be my indenture holder, but now I felt pathetically grateful: if he hadn't done that, then I would not have been able to serve Mister Rooney properly. Maybe Rob was no longer my best buddy, but he had acted in my best interests."
I watched, almost detached, as Mister Rooney positioned himself at me, then entered me. It was a hard, almost brutal, fucking, but I did not care - that was what Mister Rooney chose to do, and he had that right as I was his servant. I saw the expressions of control, and pleasure, and ecstasy flow successively over his face, and somewhere inside me I rejoiced that I was serving him in the way that pleased him. And when he had shot his seed deep inside me, and leant on me, recovering, I crossed my legs around his waist and in my desire to hold him there, to show him that I wanted him to remain in me for ever, I almost crushed him!
He stood up, and without asking him, I was bold enough to get off the horse and fall to my knees in front of him. Putting an arm around his hairy butt to steady myself and him, I feverishly began to lick at his dick and balls, cleaning my cum and ass juices off him so that they should not soil his boxers. When his hand ruffled through my cropped hair and he said gently "Good boy, Steve", I felt my heart swell with pride, and my dick stretched hard and erect out in front of me.
When he finally pushed me away - I'd have kept nuzzling his dick all night as I revelled in the masculine smell of my owner coming from his crotch, he was smiling. "So now it's Steve's turn, don't you think, Rob?"
"Sure. Who shall we have him fuck? What about that big guy, the one a bit like him?"
"Oh, Craig... No, I want to make sure that Steve has got the message properly. He's behaved very well so far, but last time when we had him fuck young Joey, I sense he didn't like it at all..."
"...not when you had Joey fuck him, either!", Rob interrupted, laughing cruelly.
"As you say, he seemed to have an aversion to having sex with Joey for some reason. So I'd like to see if the whipping has cured him."
Still naked, he walked to the door as I knelt there, and I admired my owner's big, thick dick as it bobbed up and down in front of him - I was lucky to be the servant of such a strong, virile man. He called "Joey - get your ass in here!", then walked back and sat next to Master Rob on the couch.
Joey came into the room, and at a nod from Mister Rooney, simply pulled the T - the only garment he seemed to be allowed to wear around the house - over his head, and stood there naked.
"Right - on your knees, in front of us... Just like last time", Mister Rooney told him.
"Hey, Mike, as Steve is so keen to see what's going on, why don't you have him fuck the kid in the missionary position, so he can see the effect his dick is having on the lad?"
"Good idea, Rob..", then looking at Joey, Mister Rooney went on "OK, on your back instead. And you, Steve.... Get to work: We want to see some action here, some real action. No pussyfooting around - a good hard fuck is what we want to see."
Joey obediently rolled over, and I knelt between his legs. As I grasped his ankles to pull them up onto my shoulders, I remembered what he'd said about me being the only guy that had been nice to him, and the way that he had risked terrible punishment to get me that strawberry: it may sound like a trivial kind of thing to give a man, but the state I had been in at the time, it was almost a life saver as it reminded me that there were other things in life than the terrible whipping I had been given. And, anyway, it was enormously valuable, considering the risks he had to take to get it. I was in a terrible dilemma, therefore - I wanted to be gentle with Joey, to fuck him carefully so that he was not hurt; but on the other hand, Mister Rooney had ordered me to give him a good hard fucking, without sparing him. Remembering the terrible, terrible punishment he had ordered for me, I knew that I did not dare disobey. And when I say "knew", it was not just the normal intellectual way of "knowing" something to be true: at a deep, deep level, way down in my brain, every part of me was telling me not to disobey Mister Rooney.
I looked at Joey lying there, so innocent, and so trusting. Although he was experienced at taking men, and his hole slid open easily for me, his look of delight at being able to have me fuck him soon turned to one of discomfort; and then one of acute distress, as I slammed into him repeatedly. At the "animal" level my body just could not risk Mister Rooney ordering another whipping for me. I fucked on and on, as in spite of recovering my erection when Mister Rooney had played with my dick, there was something still not right about sex for me - perhaps it was that I was feeling something akin to castration, having had my 'skin sliced off me, and at that same "animal" level just knew that I was no longer a whole man, no longer capable of having sex in the way that I had been used to all those years.
Joey seemed to be getting more and more distressed as my epic thrusting and slamming continued - I had one of my strong arms wrapped around his knees to pull his slim body right up to me, to give myself the maximum possible amount of dick inside him. I could see him desperately trying not to scream out, mustering all his will to try to lie there and take it. But he was banging his hands up and down on the floor as I continued, and every fibre of me felt desperately sorry for the ordeal that he was suffering. Still I fucked on - there was no sign of a climax approaching - and the more I saw the hurt, the pain, and now the terror on Joey's face, the worse and worse I felt. But what could I do? Something in me wouldn't let me stop, wouldn't let me disobey Mister Rooney.
It was only when Joey finally began to scream, pleading desperately for the ordeal to be over, that something snapped inside me, and with a great cry of my own my dick slammed into him one more time, and I felt again that wonderful release that you get when your balls are able to empty themselves. Then I stopped, panting for breath, and seeing the pathetic body lying underneath me, began to feel very bad about it. Joey was whimpering softly now, as a wounded animal does when it knows utter defeat and desolation, and I did the only thing I could: I pulled my dick out of him very, very slowly so as not to hurt him more, then bent over and picked him up. I knelt there, with Joey kneeling in front of me, and wrapped my arms around him. I gently massaged his back, pressing his face underneath my chin so that it was snuggled into the soft area just above my pecs, and whispered softly - perhaps hoping that Mister Rooney would not hear - "there, there... It's OK now... It's all over, Joey. You're safe now, it's over...."
"Very touching!", I heard Master Rob call out to Mister Rooney. "That was the hardest fuck I've ever witnessed, and now he's treating the kid just as if he's a doll - or a woman!"
"You're right!", Mister Rooney snapped. "Stop that ridiculous crooning, Steve. And you, Joey - stop snivelling, and clean Steve's dick, as I like to see a kid showing proper respect to something as big and meaty as Steve's cock!"
Joey did his best, and I could feel through his skinny body his attempts to calm himself. Gently he prised my arms away from him, then, as I obeyed Mister Rooney's hand gesture to get to my feet, he remained kneeling there, took my dick in his thin fingers, and began to suck at it hungrily, cleaning me of my cum and his ass juice. It felt amazing to have his nose pushing around my dick root and my sac as his tongue then bathed my balls, and, as he had before, he put an arm around my butt to steady himself; and I suppose it was a reflex of his that made his fingers start to pry down into my crack, searching for my hole. I didn't stop him this time, though - I no longer cared what happened to me, as I knew that it was no longer my choice, that my life was now totally under the control of Mister Rooney. He could order Joey to fuck me again, and I would have to let it happen. So what did it mater if the kid got a bit of innocent pleasure from enjoying my muscular butt as he nuzzled and suckled our male fluids from me?
After a time Mister Rooney evidently tired of seeing Joey's continuing humiliation in front of me, and ordered him to stop. He then dismissed me, sending me back to the barracks, and I trudged along the corridor back to climb into bed. But even as I got there, I knew something had changed - even though it was only a few minutes since I had fucked Joey so brutally, after all that abstinence my dick wanted, no, needed, to make up for lost time! It was tenting the sheets as soon as I lay down, and I wondered which of the guys I ought to call over so that I could fuck them. I ran through all the possibilities in my head, thinking of the cool sensuality of Mex, the rampant trashing around that Ted did... But just as I was making up my mind, I heard a quiet "Steve...."
There was Joey standing my head, looking down at me. As I was lying there, I could see up under the hem of the T he was wearing, that was anyway only just long enough to offer him some concealment, and could see his dick was half-hard. "Steve, can I sleep with you tonight? Please...."
"No. I don't sleep with kids." Well, I had to say that, didn't I? That was how I'd always turned him away before.
"Please, Steve. Please.... I don't want to be by myself now. I'm hurting, Steve, and you know why."
"Go and get in with one of the others then. I don't sleep with kids."
"Please, Steve... It's you I want, Steve. Please help me, Steve..."
He didn't have to say the "...as I helped you" as it was in his tone of voice. Or was it my guilty conscience telling me that I should have been stronger, and should have risked offending Mister Rooney by not fucking him hard? Even at the risk of another whipping, just as Joey had risked punishment to give me that strawberry? It seemed that Joey was braver than I was, that I was supposedly the big, tough, strong top, and yet young, slender Joey was more of a man than me. I felt terrible, and I knew I had to make amends to Joey, so I raised my arm and lifted up the sheet.
He looked at my naked body lying there, then quickly pulled his T over his head so that he too was entirely naked, and almost threw himself into the bed beside me.
It wasn't like being with Craig at all! For one thing, Joey wriggled and squirmed about as if he wanted to get every square inch of his skin in contact with me if possible. And for another, I could easily enfold him with one arm, unlike Craig who was so much bigger. But in another way they were exactly alike: I first felt Joey's dick stabbing at my belly, then, as he settled himself comfortably down, his ramrod hard dick was pressed close to mine and trapped between our two bodies. His breath was coming in short pants of excitement, as his fingers played over my nips, and he again pressed his face into that area above my pecs. And my body knew what to do - I put a hand on his head, and pushed his head down very, very gently, so that he could run his hot, wet lips over my nips, causing me to sigh with contentment, and my own erection to become almost painful as the blood engorged it.
He played with my body for a bit, then stopped. "Steve, that's fantastic.... Steve, I do like you... I know you didn't want to hurt me earlier on - I saw something in your face, it wasn't you, Steve... You do like me, don't you?"
"Sure", I said as casually as I could. But what did I really think about him? Sure, he was a nice enough kid, I guess, but he was a kid - he was only sixteen, and I was ten years older than him! I now knew I liked men, and Joey hardly qualified; but then I remembered what Craig had said about a man being a man if he was old enough to be able to fuck and to take dick. It wasn't right, though, was it, to make him fuck me, and to have his ass used by Mister Rooney? I mean, a sixteen year old ought to be at High School, enjoying experimenting with sex with his buddies, not condemned to servitude like this. And then I realised two things had changed about me - firstly, I was now thinking it was normal for buddies at High School to have sex together, whereas when I was there, all I ever did was spend a whole lot of time chasing pussy.
And secondly, I'd just criticised Mister Rooney! Even as I thought this, a cold sweat broke out on me: Mister Rooney could order me to be whipped if I displeased him, or if I was disloyal to him...
"Steve, what's the matter?" Joey sounded alarmed, and his face was now staring into mine.
"Hey, it's OK... I'm sorry... I was just remembering the whipping.... " Even as I spoke, I could feel myself trembling, and Joey threw his arms around me.
"It's OK, Steve... You're safe here in bed with me.... There...." It was Joey stroking my back now, Joey trying to comfort me! I was supposed to be a man, and he was a kid, and I felt ashamed of my weakness. After a few moments, he went on "Steve, we are buddies, aren't we? I don't have any guys here who are real buddies with me, but can we be buddies, like you and Craig are?"
What could it hurt? I muttered "Sure, we're buddies, Joey.", and as I said it, I felt a sharp pang of regret and anguish, remembering the good times I'd had with Craig.
"Oh, Steve - that's fantastic. I'll be a real friend to you, do anything for you..."
"Thanks...", I muttered. "Look, we've got to sleep, OK? I've got to work tomorrow, and so have you..."
"I can't sleep, Steve... And you know why!". Joey half giggled, as he moved his hips slightly, sending shivers of excitement through my dick trapped between our bodies, and I suppose, doing the same to his. "Come on, Steve.... Let's have a bit of fun...."
"No, I can't fuck you - you'll be sore..."
"But I could fuck you, Steve.... "
I almost panicked at the thought of being fucked again, and remembered the utter humiliation as I'd been strapped down before, as he'd mounted me. "No, Joey", I whispered.
"Please, Steve... You've just fucked me, and we're buddies, aren't we? Don't buddies have sex with each other, Steve? Didn't you mean it when you said we'd be friends?"
He sounded so pathetic, and I felt so guilty that I'd hurt him. And I was really grateful to him for that small piece of fruit, and knew he was braver than I would be in the circumstances. I knew my ass was well stretched by the big dicks of Mister Rooney and Master Rob, and, taken objectively, what would it matter if his dick now went up me? When I was a dominant, aggressive top, there was no way that I would have let him do it. But now I was broken, I could just be used whenever Mister Rooney chose, so why not let Joey do it too? And Joey was, after all, probably more of a man than I was in spite of the size of his body compared to mine.
"Oh, all right then, just this once....", I muttered. But even as I said it, I wondered if I'd done the right thing: Physically it wasn't going to hurt me, but doing it voluntarily with a young guy, well, somehow it still seemed slightly wrong. When Craig and I had been fooling around, it was because we were both strong, mature guys, after all.... And then when he'd fucked me I'd been simply berserk, not only by his use of my ass, but by the way he'd betrayed my trust, pretending to really like me, but all the time just using it as another strategy to get a good fuck. Joey was different, though - he'd had to fuck me, having as little choice in thrusting up my ass as I lay strapped to that horse as I had in taking him; and he really did seem to like me, and was prepared to take huge risks for me. It was all too complicated. It was almost as bad as chasing women: you just couldn't have good, simple sex, you had to go through all the romancing and lovey-dovey stuff. It ought to be easier with guys, but perhaps it wasn't.
To my amazement, Joey wanted to fuck me as Craig had! He gently pushed and prodded at me to get me to roll over onto my side, then I could feel his breath on my back as he was almost laughing with excitement as he manoeuvred my thighs apart. I'd begun to realise that having a man's hot breath playing over my body was in itself exciting. Then I actually enjoyed the feeling of his dick as he slid it around between my balls and my hole, and when he whispered "OK, Steve, here goes...", I hardly noticed as his gently warmth slid into me.
It wasn't much of a fuck, of course - Joey enjoyed it, but I hardly noticed it after the hard work my ass had done earlier that evening. But when he'd finished and pulled out, he turned me over again and now clung to me again, but now with only my dick hard between us. I went to stroke his head, and to my surprise, found water on his cheeks. "Hey, Joey... What's the matter...?"
"Oh, Steve... You're so nice to me. I've never had a buddy like you before, someone who treats me properly... My step-dad threw me out, and that was why I was picked up by the cops and made indentured.... I wish I'd had a brother like you, Steve, an older brother who'd take care of me..."
"But I can't do that, Joey, you know that. We both have to do what Mister Rooney tells us, don't we?"
"Yes, Steve, but when we've got free time, can we spend it together, Steve, like buddies do?"
I wanted to say "no", really, as I didn't want to be always hanging out wit a kid. After all, I was going to start fucking the other guys again now, and I couldn't always be hanging about with Joey. But he seemed so happy, and I didn't want to disappoint him, so I said "Hey, sure, of course, that's what buddies do." How easy it is to let those little half-truths and lies slip out, how expedient it can seem at the time, and how much trouble you can store up for later.
Joey gave a big sigh of contentment, and reached down and pressed his hand between us. I felt his fingers stroking my dick, and began to thrill as my body prepared to cum again. I forget it was "only" Joey doing these amazing things to me, and closed my eyes and thought of Craig, and of his hard muscles, of his proud rampant dick, and of the strong muscular fingers that he used to jerk us both off. The feeling was so intense that it seemed like only seconds before my dick fired and sprayed my cum between our bodies, and once more, as I smelled that wonderful male scent of cum and sweat, I remembered Craig and our love making.
I gave a great sigh, of passion, and of regret, and Joey moved his face next to mine, and kissed me gently on the lips. Before I could protest, or do anything, he dropped back, and I could almost feel him dropping off to sleep, wrapped in my arms.
The next morning, of course, I got a lot of joshing and ribald remarks from the other guys when they saw me and Joey intertwined together. Joey is a bit of a clown, too, and he hopped around from foot to foot in front of everyone, his morning hard-on wagging up and down, shouting and complaining, pretending that his was hurting because his pubic hair had been ripped out because we were stuck together with our cum! There was enough of the truth in it for it to be really funny, as there was indeed dried cum over our bellies and all over the sheets - Ted grabbed my bottom sheet and held it up for everyone to see, and the big patches of cum were really visible. I slapped Joey's butt playfully to make him stop
It was a bit embarrassing in the showers, though - instead of joining in the general washing of each other, Joey only wanted to soap me, and I knew some of the other guys saw how he was pushing his hand right up my crack so that he could poke his finger into my hole! We didn't do that kind of stuff in the showers, especially not in the morning when we were all supposed to be getting ready for work.
I was expecting Joey to pull on his normal dick-flashing T, but as we were all standing around dressing in our work shorts and polos, and lacing up our heavy work boots, Sean came in and told Joey to dress the same way. After we'd eaten our breakfast chow, he separated out Joey, Craig and me from the rest of the guys, and told us to get into the back of one of the trucks.
Joey was really excited, as he didn't usually get out of Rooney's Contracts' yard, and he pressed himself close to me, and made me put my arm around his shoulders. Craig just sat there, looking at us, and saying nothing. How I wished it was Craig's body pressed in to me, and Craig's lovely muscled neck that was warming my biceps!
To our surprise, Mister Rooney himself came out and got into the driver's seat, and instead of turning towards the suburbs where the majority of the construction sites were, we joined the morning crawl of the commuters in their fancy cars in towards the centre of the city. It was interesting to see them all there, looking all tense and frustrated before the day's work had even begun, and I began to realise how lucky I was really, able to use my body properly. The guys in the cars mostly looked really miserable, and in spite of what I'd been through recently, I felt almost happy. Life didn't seem to be so bad after all.
It took a really long time, and I wondered how the poor commuting bastards put up with the constant stop-start all the time every day. It seemed to me that their lives were even more controlled than mine - they had to get up and go to the office every day, do what their bosses ordered, and then go home to dreary suburbs. I at least was using my body, and at night I had the freedom to fuck whoever I wanted to, and wasn't restricted to some whining wife, always pestering me to "get on" and "make money". I began to feel rather superior to them, as I looked at their pasty white faces and their overweight bodies as the traffic inched around us: I bet they wished that they were all in as good shape as I was, as the sunlight played over my muscled forearms and upper body a we sat there.
When Mister Rooney pulled into a parking garage and told us curtly to follow him, it was actually quite exciting: I hadn't been downtown for a long, long time, and the sight of al the folk crowding the sidewalks as they went into their offices was actually very interesting: we really weren't used to seeing people in bulk, as mostly on the sites we just saw a few other workers, like us. But where could we be working today, and why were we here? It didn't look as if there was a site within miles!
We finally turned into a building, and in the atrium there were big signs saying "Criminal cases - first floor", and "Civil cases - take the elevators to the third floor." Mister Rooney led the way over to the elevators, then, as he got in, snapped "You guys run up the stairs - and I mean run, as you're not going to get much exercise today. And folk don't like having to share enclosed elevators with indentured servants. Meet me on the third floor!"
All three of us raced up the stairs, and actually beat the elevator. We stood there waiting for Mister Rooney, and then followed him to a desk, where I heard the clerk tell him "Court Four. Mister Wheeler is waiting for you."
We went along the corridor, and there, outside a door plainly marked "Court Four - Wait to be summoned before entering", was Rob - I'd actually forgotten that he was a "Wheeler", and what was even more surprising was that instead of the normal "smart causal" clothes that I had been used to seeing him in (or his naked skin now, I suppose!), he was in a formal dark suit with a n expensive looking silk necktie. Everything about him screamed "lawyer", and, more particularly, "successful, expensive lawyer".
Rob and Mister Rooney conversed briefly as the three of us waited patiently, then an usher in uniform came out, spoke to them, and we went into the court room. What the fuck was going on, I wondered? But I soon found out! "Civil docket 8356732 - Rooney's Contracts and the indentured servants Craig Dulles, Steven Masters, and Joseph Willows."
Rob rose to his feet, and addressed the judge who sat there looking down at us. "Please, Ma'am", he began. "This is a simple matter. Under the recently enacted state law, indentured servants with a ten year indenture or more can have their indenture period extended by the Court if the Court deems that it will be in the best interests of the servant himself, or the community at large. All three indentured servants in the court today have ten year indentures, and my client, the respected contractor Michael Rooney, requests that the Court extends their periods of indenture under those conditions."
I listened to this in horror. I wasn't a ten year indenture really - Rob had agreed to five years, and then had had that extended already. "No!", I shouted out "That's unfair! I was only a five year indenture, and..."
The judge banged her gavel. "Silence! I will not have these unseemly outbursts in my court, especially not from indentured servants." She looked at me specifically, and continued "If there is any more of that nonsense from you young man, the court bailiff will take you out and cane you."
"But please, Ma'am..."
"Silence! The Court only hears from free men. Indentured servants have no right to speak in court, having forfeited that right when they were originally convicted."
I was about to shout out that I wasn't convicted of anything, when Joey pulled at my shirt, motioning me to sit down. I realised that I'd better be patient, bide my time - our turn would come, surely."
"So tell me, Mister Wheeler, under what conditions are you requesting that the Court agrees to the extension of these indentures - the law lays down very specific circumstances, you know. And how long do you requires these extensions to be?"
"Craig Dulles was a recidivist, your honour. Guilty of multiple crimes, and working his way through several minor prison terms before he was indentured for ten years. We believe that it would be wrong to release him back to society where he will doubtless offend again. It is only the stern discipline and firm control of the indenture programme that keeps him from inflicting further damage to others. For the sake of society, for the protection of honest citizens, we believe that the only sensible course is to agree to extend his indenture."
"Steven Masters is unstable. He agreed to a voluntary indenture of five years, which had to be extended to ten, and..."
"No!", I shouted. "Rob, you know that's not right..."
"Bailiff!", the judge snapped. "Bring a gag for this man here. I will not have the order of my court disturbed by a servant! By rights I ought to have him caned, but I do not want to waste time here this morning: gag him, so we can continue."
The bailiff came up to me with something that looked like a horse's bit - a bar of steel, but with a plate jutting out from it at right angles. Leather straps hung from each end of it. He held it up to my mouth, and when I just stood there, teeth clamped shut, said calmly "Open wide, boy, and take the gag, or you'll feel my prod at full power..."
Well, what could I do? The metal bar tasted well, "metallic" as he pushed it home, and as he fastened the straps behind my head, I realised that the plate was pressing down on my tongue. With my mouth wedged half open and my tongue immobile, I was capable of making only inarticulate gargling noises.
"Proceed, Mister Wheeler", the judge ordered, and Rob went on "As I was saying, your honour, Steven Masters is unstable. No young man with a good home background would willingly agree to indenture. It is in his own best interests that he remain indentured for a further term, as only that way can he find the true satisfaction that his personality craves."
"NO!", I shouted, but it was inarticulate, and almost inaudible.
"And Joseph Willows was a juvenile delinquent, always in trouble. His stepfather ultimately had to insist he left the family home, he was so much trouble. He was quickly guilty of sundry petty crimes - theft, breaking and entering.... And was sentenced to a period of indenture as soon as he was sixteen. We believe that it is in his own best interests to have the period extended, as when he becomes 'free' at twenty six, he will have no experience of life, and will be unable to manage his affairs as an adult in our complex society. It will be kinder to him, and better for society as a whole, if he does not return to that life of crime that is the only one which he knows, save for the security and order that indenture brings to him."
"NO!", I tried to shout again. I knew that Joey had only had to steal and break into a house as he was so hungry and freezing cold because of the unjust actions of his stepfather, and yet here he was, being made out to look like a hardened criminal, like Craig. Fucking lawyers! Rob wasn't exactly lying, but he was presenting the facts with a dishonest spin to them. It was no use, of course - nothing came through the gag. And Joey seemed so terrified of the whole business that he remained totally silent.
"You make a compelling case, Mister Wheeler, the judge said calmly. "Is there anyone here to speak for the indentured servants?"
"Your honour....", Craig began.
"Silence! Unless you want to be gagged like your companion, remain silent!" The judge was almost screaming at Craig now. "I have said before that servants have no right to speak in Court, that right being reserved for free men. If the servants have not arranged for any respectable free man to appear here and speak on their behalf, I will issue judgement on the basis of Mister Wheeler's unchallenged dissertation."
Fuck me! How fucking unfair! We didn't even know we were coming here today, so how the fuck could we have made arrangements for a respectable free man to appear for us? And, anyway, how was an indentured servant, kept closely confined, as we were, meant to find one of these "respectable free men" anyway? I fumed and shouted, but just succeeded in looking intemperate and stupid, as I can now see.
"Mister Wheeler, the Court grants your petition, and agrees to extend the indenture of the three servants. What period of extension are you looking for?"
"Ma'am, you could agree to a further ten years, but then, in ten years time we could all be here again using just the same arguments, as little will have changed in the circumstances of these servants: they will still be ex-criminals, or unable to cope, or unbalanced. So, in order to avoid wasting the Court's time, I suggest that the most appropriate thing to do would be to extend the indenture period indefinitely - make them indentured servants for the remainder of their natural lives."
"What a sensible suggestion, mister Wheeler. There's little enough time here as it is. The Court so rules. Craig Dulles, Steven Masters, and Joseph Willows are hereby indentured for the remainder of their lives."
She banged her gavel. Mister Rooney and Rob were smiling, and Craig, Joey and I just looked at each other in what amounted to complete shock.
"Bailiff, take the servants down, and have the relevant changes made to their markings", the judge concluded, banging her gavel again.
End Of Part 17