Enslaved For Life

The most horrible day I ever lived through was the day my life long friend
Christopher Worthington was enslaved for life at the age of 22, just 4 months
before he and I were to graduate together from SDSU with our bachelors in
chemistry.

On the evening of April 3, 2001, my dad told me to cancel my plans for the next
day because he and I had something very important to do. When I asked him what
was up he said he could not tell me, and that I would simply have to wait until
tomorrow in order to find out.

The next morning over breakfast dad told me what was up. I reacted with stunned
disbelief to what he told me. And because of what I was to eventually witness
on that day, a strange trance like numbness stayed with me for several months,
and even now on thinking of the events I revert into a haze, unable to believe
that it really happened.

Christopher Worthington and I were friends since the age of 6, when we became
neighbors. Our parents supported our friendship, though they themselves never
became especially close with each other. Mr. Worthington was a successful
businessman who stayed pretty much to himself, but he cared very much about
appearances. Not only about how he and his family appeared in men's eyes, but
how he appeared financially in the eyes of others.

Indeed, Christopher was always neatly dressed, even at casual sporting events.
His hair was always neatly combed, and his manners were impeccable. He and I
grew up together and shared everything. We even decided, after much
uncertainty, to drop our first choices for colleges, so we could attend San
Diego State University together. And we had a great time in college. They were
our happiest times together yet, even after the many years of good times we had
shared. We were best friends for life. Or so we thought.

Dad told me that Mr. Worthington had contacted him only three days ago with news
of his plan, and he was to keep it under wraps. He told my dad that he was
letting him in on his plans because he knew that Christopher and I were life
long friends, and he wanted me to be present when he announced his decision to
Christopher so that I could offer him some support throughout the day, and help
him get through the ordeal.

Mr. Worthington had fallen on hard times. He was in danger of losing the family
business. Under California law c***dren over the age of 18 who have not served
in the armed forces or state national guard before the age of 26 are subject to
what are known as "lex talionis" restrictions, which means that they still do
not have full rights as adults, though they are no longer considered minors.

Thus, parents still have the legal authority to enslave for profit a free born
c***d if they can prove both that they no longer have the means to care for the
c***d, and that the c***d fails to meet at least three of the "lex talionis"
requirements. In Christopher's case he had a bum misdemeanor rap on his civil
record for shoplifting, he had no record of civic volunteer duty, and he had
more than three traffic violations. Therefore Christopher, on his father's
order, was sold into slavery.

I was stunned. Dad tried to reassure me, saying that there was nothing we could
do to prevent it, but that I could help in some small way by being at
Christopher's side throughout the day he was to be enslaved and processed. If I
would be at his house, when his dad announced that his life, as he knew it, was
over; if I would accompany him to the slave processing center and wait for him;
and afterwards if I would accompany him when he was delivered to Arthur Baldwin,
who bought him and at whose estate he was to serve; if I would do these things
for Christopher, then I would be doing all that I possibly could do.

When I heard the name of Arthur Baldwin, the bleakness that had possessed me
suddenly turned to hopelessness. Arthur Baldwin owned Baldwin/Fletcher
Enterprises, and its chief concern was the Fletcher Farm and Canneries. Baldwin
ran the cannery and farms almost entirely on slave labor, and the overseers of
the slave teams were Baldwin's two sons, Arnold and Retcher. If Arthur Baldwin
had a reputation as a cold-hearted businessman, his sons had the reputation
throughout the valley as vicious sadists who delighted in punishing and
humiliating their slaves. They were young, probably only about six or seven
years older than Christopher and I, but they had reputations that far surpassed
their years.

I remember how Christopher and I used to share stories we had heard about the
Baldwin sons. And just two months ago we had seen them in town, each with a
slave on a leash dressed in clown outfits, wearing large dunce caps and sandwich
boards proclaiming "I was caught idling" on the front side, and "Please spit on
me" on the back. Christopher called out to them, on that occasion, saying that
they were filthy slavers who deserved to rot in hell. I still remember Retcher
looking back and seeing us, and saying, "Oh, it's cute-ass Worthington. Man,
how I'd love to have that pony pulling my cart!"

I cried, and told my dad it was injustice. He tried to comfort me. And as he
embraced me I thought of all the times I had seen Mr. Worthington embrace
Christopher.

***

Part 2

The next morning dad and I ate breakfast in silence. He told me that he and I
had to be at the Worthingtons' by 11 am, since Christopher's appointment with
the slave processing center was at 12:30. Mr. Worthington wanted things to go
fast. After he announced his intentions to his son, and he got the final
signature from Mr. Baldwin, Mr. Worthington pretty much wanted Christopher
whisked out of his house for good. The plan was that I then would accompany
Christopher, with police e*****, to the processing arena, and then afterwards
accompany the drudge (what slaves are called in California), along with two
requisition officers, to the Baldwin slave compound.

Dad and I arrived at Mr. Worthington's house at quarter to 11. Mr. Baldwin was
already there, holding a folder stuffed thick with papers. Also in attendance
were Trevor Humphries, Arnold and Retcher's chief overseer assistant at the
ranch, and two plainclothes men from the police department. (California is one
of the few states that does not have special police units for the maintenance of
slaves. It is still a liberal state, and the slave rights people maintain that
slaves are not a different sort of human being, requiring any special policing.
Because of the liberal trend in general along the West Coast, private family
ownership of slaves is still relatively rare. Slaves in the west are owned and
maintained chiefly by corporations and the prison system. ) I was introduced to
Mr. Baldwin, and any fears that had built up in me that he was a monster were
immediately dispelled by his seemingly genuine greeting, accompanied by a broad
smile and a firm hand shake.

It was Mr. Worthington, surprisingly, who looked like an evil person to me. He
was very rigid in demeanor, with a distant gaze in his eyes, perhaps intensified
by his nervousness over the situation. He thanked me for being willing to be at
Christopher's side throughout the rest of the day.

Trevor Humphries seemed to be the kind of man one would expect to bring calm and
sobriety to any situation. In his mid thirties, dressed in a blue blazer and
tie, well groomed, he exuded a wholesomeness that was rare in those who handled
slaves on a daily basis.

Also present was Christopher's brother, Dexter. Dexter was three years older
than Christopher, and the two of them never got along. Dexter was always
blaming Christopher when things went wrong, and got him into a lot of trouble
through the years. Christopher got the rap when Dexter was apprehended for
shoplifting some Cd's once. Christopher always felt Dexter disliked him because
he was jealous. I nodded to Dexter, and he smiled back. He was the only person
present who did not seem somewhat apprehensive. Indeed, he seemed to be in good
spirits.

When I started to say to Mr. Worthington, "Isn't there some -", my dad pulled me
to his side and bent down and whispered, "Todd, there is nothing we can do any
more to change the course of things. What you can do is just be with
Christopher throughout this day."

This little interruption seemed to make everyone even more nervous. And Mr.
Worthington, who had been glancing at his watch throughout the introductions,
started glancing even more frequently. Finally when it was eleven o'clock, he
looked at all of us and said, "Well, it's time. Are we ready?" Nods from the
plainclothesmen and Mr. Baldwin. "Fine. I'll go and get Christopher."

My dad and I were nervous, I felt like I could cry at any moment. Within
minutes Mr. Worthington and Christopher entered the room. On seeing me,
Christopher smiled and said, "Hey Todd! Are you going along with dad and me to
Spence's for lunch?" His dad answered, "Christopher, we're not going to lunch
at Spence's. Would you come over here please." Christopher was still unaware
that anything was up and smilingly went to stand beside his dad. The two
plainclothesman got up and took places one on each side of Christopher.
"Christopher. I have decided to make some changes around here, in our lives.
As you know, my business has failed and needs capital to continue operations.
Mr. Baldwin here has very graciously offered to help me out. I have therefore
accepted his payment for your lifetime services."

"Dad?"

"Hear me out, son. I, of course, could never allow you to be enslaved and sold
at auction. It was only because of Mr. Baldwin's kind offer to keep you on his
property that I could see my self engaging in this course of action. We both
owe Mr. Baldwin a sincere show of gratitude for what he has done to help us both
out."

"DAD!" Christopher seemed to be having trouble understanding the full scope of
things. His mouth was open and he was shaking his head.

During the preceding Trevor Humphries quietly took out a digital camera and
started to take a few shots of the distressed Christopher.

Mr. Baldwin then spoke up. "Well, gentlemen, I have to be at a meeting in a
little while. I just need to sign one final paper to complete the sale. I know
the medical records are all in order. And seeing Christopher up close, I can
see that my sons were correct. When I told them that Christopher might be up
for sale, and asked them for their opinions, they both said it seemed like it
would be a super investment, and urged me to secure the goods in haste. But
because you have been keeping this under wraps, Mr. Worthington -
understandably so in these conditions, of course, - I did not have access to
the usual pre-purchase full body photographs. Therefore, as is usual, I would
like a quick view of the rest of Christopher, if you don't mind. I just want to
see what I'm paying for, to make sure the goods are in order and there are no
surprises."

"Of course, Mr. Baldwin. I insist on this myself.", said Mr. Worthington.
"Christopher, remove your clothing!"

Christopher didn't seem to hear, and Mr. Worthington raised his voice.
"Christopher, I'm not telling you again, remove your clothes."

Mr. Baldwin sounded reassuring, "Now, now, Mr. Worthington, no need for any
harshness. It's understandable the newly drudged aren't aware of what codes of
conduct are required of them. That's why the thoroughly professional sort of
training my boys will be offering to Christopher is such a balm to our slaves.
When drudges are given clear guidelines, they know where we stand and where they
stand. But anyway," continued Baldwin, giving a slight nod to the
plainclothesmen, "I am in something of a hurry here, so if we could just move
on."

With that one of the plainclothesmen grabbed Christopher's right arm, pulled
from his service belt what looked like a piece of cylindrical metal tubing, and
placed it over his thumb. He then started to gradually turn the top portion of
the cylinder. He watched Christopher's face as he turned the screw. Suddenly
Christopher screamed as if scalded with boiling oil, "Take it off, please, take
it off!"

The plainclothesman responded, "We'll take it off as soon as you get every
stitch of your clothing off." With that Christopher tore into removing his
clothing with fury as he cried out in pain, practically kicking his shoes off,
tearing buttons off his shirt (a Christmas present to him from my dad) in order
to remove it in haste, wildly flailing to get his t-shirt off, pulling down his
undies. Then, when totally bare before all of us, and crouching in a kneeling
position trying to cover his crotch with one hand he stuck his thumbscrewed hand
into the air and screamed, "Take it off! Take it off!" The officer was quick
to remove the thumbscrew, leaving a sobbing, crouching, Christopher trembling in
confusion, as he rubbed his injured thumb with moans. Through all of this
Humphries had been calmly clicking away with his digital camera.

The officers then pulled Christopher up by his shoulders. Dexter was wide eyed
with excitement, his mouth open, and a bulge showing in his crotch. Christopher
tried to cover his genitals but his arms were swiftly and firmly pulled behind
him by the officers, leaving him totally bared for all of us to see.

"Now boy, don't you worry!" assured Mr. Baldwin. "It's always amusing to me
how the newly drudged are so full of modesty. You'll get over that in no time.
We work the majority of slaves on field duty and in many parts of the cannery
totally nude except for work boots. You'll get over being around the clothed
non-slave employees in no time. About one quarter of our cannery work force are
regular freemen employees. It's a very good arrangement. They help us keep
tabs on the slave force."

Christopher's head was bowed. Tears rolled down his face, as Humphries advanced
slightly, shooting the exposed, distraught lad.

"And judging from the looks of you, you will make one fine hard labor product.
Ah yes. Very nice, indeed!", approved Mr. Baldwin, as he walked up to
Christopher, to more closely examine his purchase. He ran his hand over
Christopher's chest and tweaked his nipples. "A good solid piece of
merchandise. Good shape. And a nice waggler on you, too, boy," he said as he
took Christopher's penis in hand and weighed it, indicating it to Humphries.
"Get a good shot of this," he said.

"But Christopher," he continued, "this thing I'm holding isn't going to be of
very much use to you any more, because one thing we do not allow at
Baldwin/Fletcher is any form of sexual release whatsoever, and that includes
masturbation."

Dexter let out with, "Wow, cool man!" Everyone ignored him.

As Humphries took a few close-ups of Christopher's unit Mr. Worthington
expressed his discomfort at the delays. "Gentleman, isn't there going to be
plenty of time afterwards to photograph your new purchase?"

"Actually, Mr. Worthington", responded Trevor, "there isn't. We need photos of
Christopher before his processing. He is up for quite a few body modifications
today, and Arnold insists on a complete preprocessing photo record of all the
raw material on his slave teams."

"I see," murmured Mr. Worthington.

Mr. Baldwin continued. "As I was saying, Christopher, my boys deal very
severely with those afflicted with the habit of masturbation." Mr. Baldwin
finally let go of Christopher's penis and walked back to where he was standing,
saying, "I just offer that to you as fair warning. My boys are very stern on
that issue because they say that drudges who do not engage in such habits and
pursuits are much more productive in a labor intensive work environment. They
turn a higher profit. My boys are concerned about the labor efficiency of the
entire team, and an efficient, labor intensive team, producing at top yield,
creates an environment that is pleasing to all involved."

Mr. Baldwin was a real slaver who saw slavery only from the business angle, and
over that angle he tended to enthuse. But on this particular day his enthusiasm
for business talk was to the distress of almost everyone in the room, especially
to poor Christopher.

Only Dexter was bobbing and shifting in wide-eyed, openmouthed excitement. Mr.
Humphries looked sideways at Dexter, and took a discreet snapshot of the wide-
eyed older brother.

"Now Christopher," Baldwin continued, "you should be flattered to learn that
you did not come cheap, especially since, as you probably know, your father
sold you as a 'hard labor product.' That means I paid almost three times for
you what I would have paid if you had been offered as a 'standard labor'
product."

Mr. Worthington turned red as sweat ran down his forehead.

"Now that's good for you and bad for me. It's good for you because it means
that you, as a hard labor product, can be worked up to 14 hours a day, seven
days a week, whereas a 'standard labor' product can only be worked up to 10
hours a day, six days a week. It has been proven that hard labor drudges are
far more content than standard labor drudges. Their minds are much more
occupied, and the suicide rate for hard labor slaves is only about half that of
standard term slaves."

My dad interjected a feeble, "Now wait, one second, Mr. Baldwin - "

Mr. Baldwin thought only that dad was arguing with his business sense and
continued: "Let me continue. Sound business practice dictates that one only
pays hard labor product prices if the slaves are in their mid teens, since hard
labor can only be extracted until the age of 42. So that means I get exactly 20
years hard labor return on my investment, compared to 28 years of hard labor if
I had invested in Christopher when he was ************. So I just want you to
know, Christopher, that I am purchasing you at something of a loss as a favor to
your father."

"Christopher, thank Mr. Baldwin.", urged Mr. Worthington. Christopher was unable
to answer, only looking down at the floor as the officers held him in place.

Dexter interjected, "Come on b*o, just once in your life try to show a little
gratitude."

The lack of response from Christopher didn't seem to bother Mr. Baldwin, as he
continued, "Now as a hard labor product that means you will be on duty and in
service 14 hours a day. But don't think that just because you're a drudge now
your life is going to be drudgery. Oh no. The boys see to it that 'HL's,' what
we call you hard labor products, have an active and varied schedule. They may
have you cleaning cess pools one moment, tooth brushing the walkways and
driveways the next, using you for target practice at another time, and then the
next moment they'll want you looking your best, all freshly bathed, oiled, and
heavily cologned for some activity at the house. So you will not be bored,
young fella, ever, in your service at Baldwin/Fletcher farms!"

"Daddy, no!", moaned Christopher.

Not registering in the slightest Christopher's distress, Baldwin continued.
"Ok, now turn around, so I can see your backside." Christopher turned around,
still choking on tears of humiliation, devastation, and the thumbscrew. "Nice
backside. A backside always shows clearly the work potential of the product.
And this one has good basic structure, which means it can be worked into
becoming solid and successful draft material. We're kind of short of good
sturdy draft a****ls on the farm right now. My boys will probably issue up an
order to have you placed into chiefly draft service, which is labor at its most
intensive. If they do that, don't worry. Draft teams get to spend plenty of
time outdoors in the sun. It's an absolutely invigorating environment for a
young man!"

Dexter taunted, "You're going to get some muscle on you, b*o!", as Humphries
snapped pics of the backside.

Part 3

"Ok, now turn around and face me, Christopher, I have some things I need to say
to you." Mr. Baldwin paused as Christopher made a slow defeated turn around.
Christopher kept his eyes to the ground. "Christopher, you are a twenty two
year old male, and I'm quite sure your dad hasn't spanked those butt cheeks of
yours in quite some time. It's probably been ten years at least. Am I
correct?"

Christopher managed to slur out a quiet "yes" without looking up.

"One of the big differences between free men and slaves, as you may know, is
that slaves of all ages are spanked and disciplined in a variety of ways on a
regular basis throughout their lives. A typical male slave from his teen years
through his 40's is either spanked or face slapped several times a week. But
you need to know that because you are to be employed by both the cannery and
the Baldwin household, you are subject both to normal domestic and to commercial
disciplinary codes. It means more will be expected of you, and you will be held
to a higher standard of conduct than slaves employed only by the cannery. All
of this will be outlined, of course, in your indoctrination period over the next
few days. You will be given a thorough training in all aspects of your position
as a lifer hard labor product. You will learn exactly what is required of you.
All rules, regulations and disciplinary procedures will be made very clear. The
boys will be starting your orientation as soon as you arrive, and new slaves are
introduced to the rest of the slave population at Baldwin/Fletcher farms their
first evening with our traditional welcoming ceremony."

Mr. Worthington, finally hearing something that sounded half way civil, jumped
at it to ease the tension. "Well that sounds very nice indeed! Exactly what is
it?"

"O, it's very good for morale. We call it the 'Black Balls Ball.' After my
sons deliver Christopher's pro-forma bare naked bull whipping tonight in front
of all the slaves in the compound - and don't you worry about that. It's the
standard whipping issued to all new slaves. It's a humane gesture, really,
which helps insure that most slaves never have to receive another one. But
afterwards, my boys will paint Christopher's cock, balls, and tits black. And
for the week or so that it takes the paint to wear off, the new slave is subject
to mild and friendly hazing from the other slaves. It's a wonderful bonding
tool, kind of like a fraternity hazing. It really helps build morale among the
slaves. And it will make you feel a part of the team. It's just a very nice
welcoming gesture for the new drudges. Something we do at Baldwin/Fletcher for
the good of our slave teams."

"Fuckin cool!", moaned Dexter.

During the slight pause in Baldwin's chatter Humphries went up to Christopher
and pinched his nose. Christopher's mouth opened almost immediately and
Humphries grabbed his tongue, pulled it out of his mouth, and examined it, all
the while still pinching his nose. When finished he stepped back and asked
Christopher to stick his tongue out as far as it would go. Christopher at first
didn't respond, but when both officers reached for something from their service
belts, he immediately stuck his tongue way out. Humphries then snapped a long
shot and a close up of Christopher with his mouth wide open and his tongue
sticking out. Dexter was all smiles, and asked Humphries why he wanted such a
photo. Humphries quietly said it was something needed for the record.

All of us were hoping that both Dexter and Baldwin would just shut up, but Mr.
Baldwin continued. "But don't think your welcoming ceremony is the only time
you're going to be treated special. Oh no! The Baldwin/Fletcher slaves are
always a colorful sight when my boys take them out on errands. My boys like to
dress the younger slaves, like Christopher, up in colorful costumes or gear when
they take them out about the city. Our slaves, as you may know, have a colorful
reputation around the community, and that is a real morale builder for the slave
team, as well as good PR for Baldwin/Fletcher. And the slaves really enjoy the
opportunity to get out and about. Sometimes the boys will have the male slaves
on leashes and get them dressed up as sailor boys, or cowboys, or French girlie
maids, or diapered and sucking their thumbs and carrying a baby bottle, or
outfitted like a pony and pulling my boys in a cart, or even walking on all
fours like puppy dogs, with cute signs around their necks saying, "Pet me". My
boys are just so creative. It's all in good spirited fun, of course. It lets
the community know that our slaves are valued and pampered. And judging from
the letters of support we get, the community seems to really enjoy the slave boy
spectacles my sons put on."

Perhaps finally realizing that most of us present in the room were numb,
Baldwin gave the order for Christopher to get dressed. "We gotta get you
delivered to the processing center on time." As Christopher got dressed,
Baldwin took out the document and signed it. In silence Mr. Worthington and Mr.
Baldwin shook hands on the deal.

While this was going on Dexter asked Mr. Humphries if he could get a job at the
cannery. Mr. Humphries responded that family members of any slaves held at
Baldwin/Fletcher were not eligible for employment at the cannery or farms..

Baldwin then took the slave processing requisition order out of his folder and
examined it. "Let me see what the boys have ordered to be done on you." His
eyes perused the document. "O yes, pretty standard fare here. The usual body
modifications. Christopher, you're going to get trussed, trollied, collared,
clipped, shorn, shaved, tagged, belled, cinched, tattooed, and branded, as well
as ringed in the nipples, nose, ears, penis, and at the base of the scrotum." A
quizzical look. "Huh? I wonder why the boys ordered a three inch nose ring? O
well, they know what they're doing!"

Humphries interjected. "Sounds good. Heavily ringed naked worker slaves always
make a very nice display out in the fields. Our farms are a common destination
of families out on a Sunday drive, and even of tourists, who enjoy viewing the
sight of hundreds of slaves toiling away. They frequently stop along the
roadside to watch for a while, perhaps shoot some photos or videos. Some even
take advantage of the picnic benches we have set up at various vantage points
along the roadway."

Dexter couldn't contain himself, "Dad, can I go along to the processing center
and watch? Please?" He was quickly silenced by a curt gesture from Mr.
Worthington.

Baldwin then took out and looked over another sheet from the requisition order
folder. "Well, well. Good news! I see that the boys have already given you a
name. Christopher, you are no longer Christopher. Your new name is 'Licker'.
Licker. That's nice. That's a nice name. Damn nice!"

Dexter beamed, "Fuck, that fits him!"

One of the plainclothes officers then spoke up, "In order to be received at the
processing arena, Licker has to be fitted with a muzzle, a butt plug, and a
penis clamp. Standard procedure. It prevents some of the wilder types from
soiling the reception area with body excrement and filthy words, before they get
hooked on the trolley and sent down the processing rail."

"You know," Baldwin spoke up, again believing he exuded information of a calming
nature, "traveling along that processing rail hanging from those meat hooks
always looked to me like a real fun ride. Sort of like some ride at the
carnival. Well, anyway, we gotta move. Men, get him muzzled and butt plugged,
and clamp his dick!"

One of the plainclothes officers turned towards Christopher and gathered his
hands behind his back and cuffed them. He then took out a muzzle that went over
Christopher's head and under his chin. Attached at the mouth strap was a small
rod that stuck out with a rounded ball at the end. This went into Christopher's
mouth. When the straps were secured around his head and under his chin
Christopher had to keep his mouth wide open in order to prevent the ball at the
back of his throat from gagging him.

The officers then undid Christopher's trousers, and took them down along with
his undies. They each got down on one knee, one at the front of Christopher and
one at the back. The one in back took a black butt plug, put some lube on it,
and worked it slowly up into Christopher's ass hole. At the end sticking out of
the butt there was a small cross handle. To this the officer attached straps
that went around both of Christopher's thighs and secured the butt plug.

What Christopher was thinking or feeling or crying I could not discern, because
the muzzle kept his mouth wide open, giving his face a total panic-stricken
look. Humphries stepped in to take a few close up shots of Christopher's
muzzled face. What was amazing to me was that Humphries was openly erect and
was not in the least bit concerned about it. Christopher and I had once
wondered if the stories we had heard about those who handled and disciplined
slaves were true - that they were frequently and openly erect as they controlled
and whipped slaves because public erections were a part of the accepted culture
of slave handlers.

Dexter then moved in closer to Christopher, to watch the clamping up close. His
mouth was gathered in an expression that was half excited smile, half sneer.

The officer in front gathered Christopher's foreskin very tightly and around it
he placed a banding tool. He gently squeezed the handle and a very thick,
strong, tight band snapped onto the gathered foreskin. It looked painful.
Christopher started doing choked whinnying sounds. The officers pulled up his
undies and trousers and zipped and belted his slacks. The officer who clamped
Christopher's penis reassured him. "Don't worry. The pain will subside in a
few minutes. And they'll remove that thing as soon as they get you on the
hook."

And then one final encouraging speech from Baldwin. "Ok boy, you're on your way
to a new life. At the processing center they're going to get you naked, and
truss you up. They'll first have you get into a kneeling position and shackle
your feet together at the ankles. Then your hands will be cuffed together
behind your back, and these will be attached to your ankle cuffs. With your
feet and hands secured together behind your back, they will then have you spread
your knees as wide apart as possible. This spread out position of the knees
will be secured by a set of harnesses that go about your chest and thighs. The
straps which encircle both thighs pull up and are very tightly attached to the
mid back harness, thus keeping the knees widely spread. The harness about your
chest has a large ring attached in the back between your shoulder blades. They
will then hoist you up and attach the ring at your back to a meat hook affixed
to a trolley on a rail. And you'll be hanging from that hook in that kneeling
position, with your knees spread wide so the processors can have clear access to
every part of your body. They will then remove your penis clamp and pierce your
frenum and put a ring in it. To this ring they will attach a laminated card
with coded instructions on what stations you'll be stopped at for body
modifications. "They will then send you down the rail into the processing
room. There will be as many as 200 naked slaves hanging from the meat hooks in
the room at one time, riding down the rail getting processed. In all there are
about 80 stations along the rail, and you will be stopped at each station and
the processors will check your laminated penis card to see if you require their
services. The meat hook ride through all the processing stations takes about
three hours, sometimes longer, depending on whether the line gets backed up with
too many slaves at one time requiring some of the more time consuming body
modifications. Such things as castrations and more complex tattoos can really
delay the processing. They pretty much perform the most common slave body
modification requirements on the slaves as they hang from the hooks--also less
common requests such as eyebrow removal and teeth extractions. Licker, you're
not up for any of those yet."

"And I need to warn both of you that the processing arena is a very noisy place.
But don't let that be off-putting to you. A lot of the slaves being processed
or reprocessed are under punishment orders of the courts or their owners, and
their service orders state that they are to receive no anesthetics for
procedures, so naturally there is an awful lot of hollering and screaming. But
just know, it's for their own good."

"Oh dad, please let me go", moaned Dexter. Mr. Worthington ignored Dexter and
the massive bulge in his trousers.

Baldwin continued. "Licker, my boys have set you for local anesthetics for all
procedures. Branding, of course, cannot be accomplished painlessly with a local
pain killer. You would have to be put under, and what with the extra fees and
longer processing time it really adds up on the processing bill, and your father
wasn't willing to foot that charge. But the majority of slaves, as you will
find out today, are not put under for branding; they are branded right on the
hook, as you will be. When you reach the branding station, they simply lower
your chain and ease you into a branding vise, and with you still chained to the
hook they strap you into the vise so you're immobile, apply the brand to your
upper right buttock, and in just a second's time, even before the full pain hits
you, they're unstrapping you from the slave vise and your hook is raising you
back up, and you're off on your way down the railing to the next station,
screaming your head off. But before you know it your screams will be wiped out
by the screams of the guy in back of you."

"At the end of your ride down the processing rail you'll emerge a new being with
a new life. And you're going to be looking very different from the way you do
now. You'll have no need ever again for your fancy clothes or your hair gel.
You'll no longer have to worry ever again about keeping up with the latest
fashion styles. You'll be totally shaved all over, denuded, have rings and
piercings all over the place, there will be a slave collar emplaced for life
around your neck, your cock and balls will be tightly cinched, and attached to
your cock ring now, in place of the laminated card, will be a low hanging slave
bell - the sign of a hard labor lifer slave."

"A very important accouterment of the lifer hard labor product!", interjected
Mr. Humphries.

"Indeed!", continued Baldwin. "We have a brand new use for your penis. Rather
than you playing with it, or some girl friend playing with it, it's going to be
used to let my boys know if you're doing your job and keeping busy. No more
playing with yourself ever again, because your penis is now nothing but an
attachment for your slave bell. Your overseers will expect to be hearing that
cock bell ringing nonstop. It will mean that you're doing your chores with
vigor. If the bell is silenced, it will cause your overseer to look up. There
won't be any slacking with that bell hanging between your legs. Ding dong, ding
dong, the sweet sound of a hard laboring slave. Everyone's going to be
listening to your bell. They'll know where you are, and if you're doing your
chores, by the sound of your cock bell. You might find it embarrassing at
first, but it's intended to encourage you to perform at your peak service
level. That bell lets everyone know what you are, where you are, and whether or
not you're performing up to standard. There'll be no danger of anyone thinking
you're Christopher Worthington. Yes sir, that bell hanging from your cock will
keep you and everyone within hearing distance focused on the fact that you are a
hard labor lifer slave. Just make sure your cock bell is jiggling and waggling
14 hours a day, and all will be well."

"It's going to be a whole new lifestyle for you, quite different from the way
things look around here in your dad's house. No more rock music, hip hop,
girls, college, baseball caps, tv, radio, dancing, drinking, sports. It's a new
life, with a new name, and all new adventures."

"And remember, 'Licker' is your name now." Then turning to me, Baldwin warned.
"His name is Licker, and that is what you are to call him from now on. When
Licker's processing is completed, and he's removed from the hook, he will be
sent to the receiving area, and you are then to come down from the processing
viewer platform and join him. Once off that hook, he is a slave for life. And
there will be plenty of guards standing around wielding tawses, service whips,
and tasers to enforce that fact. If Licker so much as dares to speak without
first being spoken to, the guards will be on him in an instant, and it won't be
pretty. When he first arrives in the receiving area he will still be naked and
freshly modified, so he will be quite sore. All of his slave body modifications
will be on full display right before your eyes, looking mean, raw, and harsh. He
isn't going to be looking anything like the pretty boy he is now. But try not
to be shocked at what you see. He will look very different to you, and what you
see may even frighten you - what with him being all shaved up, and all of his
fresh wounds, blood stains, sweat, tear streaks, and body adornments. And most
slaves fresh off the hook are fearfully erect, with their cock bells dingling
and dangling wildly. Slaves fresh off the hook are totally shamed, humiliated,
degraded and debased, and that is what Licker will be feeling. But it's a good
thing, for it is all a part of the successful transforming of the one you knew
once as Christopher into a profitable lifer hard labor product."

Dexter couldn't contain himself. "O dad, please may I go and watch him get it?"
Dexter's obscene erection disgusted even Mr. Worthington. "Dexter, would you
please be silent!" Dexter put his hands in his pockets, slumped, and let out a
low but angry, "Man!"

After the interruption, Baldwin continued, "Then Todd, if you still feel up to
it, you may accompany Licker out to the farms along with the requisition
officers. But don't feel bad if you are no longer up to it. Because at that
point you and Licker really will have nothing in common anymore. He will then be
a new being with a life time of hard labor service ahead of him, and you will be
your same old self. But if you think you can stomach it, well then, certainly,
stay on board and enjoy the ride out to the farms."

"Licker, once you're off the hook you will be chained and cuffed, and issued a
set of brown slave fatigues for transport to the Baldwin/Fletcher farms."
Christopher had been looking stunned before, but now an involuntary shudder ran
through his body. Mr. Baldwin picked up on his reaction. "You've noticed those
fatigues before, I see, when other young men were wearing them." He smiled.
"Well, they may not be the nicest things to look at, and they may not be as soft
and comfy as the clothes you're used to wearing. But you'll never have to worry
again about what you want to wear, and you'll never have to worry about whether
your clothes will help you fit into the group you're in. When you're wearing a
set of those fatigues, Licker, anybody will be able to tell you're a slave from
a mile away. They're practical, and they're distinctive.

"My boys will be waiting at the farms to receive you. You will be given a little
blue schoolboy-like satchel, which contains material for you to read and study.
In the satchel you will find manuals and pamphlets on slave behavior, slave
grooming, Baldwin/Fletcher protocol, punishment lists, a punishment book,
spiritual guides for the slave, a pamphlet on the evils of day dreaming, various
self help guides on being a good slave, on receiving discipline with dignity, on
avoiding masturbation, and so on. You will also find an important series on the
special and very rigid demands made on the 'Lifer Hard Labor Slave Product.'
The satchel is a real life support kit for those enslaved for life, like
yourself. And be aware that my boys do regular impromptu quizzes on all of the
materials in that packet, so make sure you know all of the material well."

Dexter beamed, "He should do well on those, since Christopher - oops, I mean
Licker - always did well on quizzes in school." Baldwin, unperturbed,
continued, "There is also a pamphlet of slave mantras. In in it you will find
various mantras and sayings that will help make your life pleasant as you repeat
them over and over all day long. Repeat 'I was born to serve, and I am
thankful for that' a thousand times a day and your life out in the field pulling
a plow to the sting of the whip will surpass anything you have ever so far
experienced, I assure you."

"We employ all standard control and discipline tools, as well as state of the
art punishment devices and techniques out at the farms, so you will want to stay
in line. Make sure you obey my boys. Everything they tell you to do, you do.
Wiggle, or show a dissatisfied look, and you'll get slapped or spanked.
Stumble, complain, or make an error, and you'll get tawsed or paddled. Any and
every act of insubordination gets you flogged. And defiance in any form gets
you castrated. The materials in your satchel will help you avoid punishment.
Perhaps when you boys are in transport to my estate, Todd, you could read some
of the materials out loud to Licker."

During the preceding, Trevor Humphries had knelt down in front of Christopher,
whose head had been bowed for most of the time, pointed his camera up at
Christopher's muzzled face, and taken a few shots. When he was finished he got
up, and as he was putting his camera away, he addressed Christopher.
"Christopher, cheer up! I know most of this talk sounded glum, coming at it
from the business angle. But you need to realize our slaves not only lead happy
lives but are proud of their service. Why do you think the tourists come out to
see them? It's an attraction as big around here as the changing of the guard at
Buckingham Palace. Our slave teams are an institution that inspires a sense of
well being. When folks see the naked field slaves, all working hard with their
nipple, ear, nose, and genital rings brightly gleaming in the sun, and the sound
and the sparkle of a hundred cock bells swaying from a hundred cocks and ringing
in the fields, not only is it a beautiful sight and sound, but the slaves are
proud to be a part of that handsome team. They stand tall and proud when photos
are taken, and they know that they are contributing in an important way. In
fact, the boys could have you on a field team as early as tomorrow afternoon,
learning the ropes. I assure you, that once you see all the cars driving by,
some slowing up, some stopping, and all the cameras shooting and clicking away
at you in the nude all shaved up with your slave collar, brand, rings, and bell
on full display, you're going to start feeling mighty proud to be a part of it
all."

After Humphries' inspiring hymn to life as a Baldwin/Fletcher drudge, Baldwin
felt inspired to offer his own concluding remarks: "Remember, Licker, you're in
my service. If you behave yourself , you'll find it's a carefree life working
on a Baldwin/Fletcher slave team. And remember, too, even if you do mess up and
end up having to get stripped naked and taken up for punishment - and that's
going to be happening a lot to you in your first few months, it always does -
just remember that punishment is good for you and will make you a happy slave in
the long run. It will help form you into a properly chastised servant. You are
a servant now for the rest of your life, and when you are chastised always thank
those who correct you. Always obey, and all will be well! Discipline, swift
and severe, will be there if you forget that. Always accept your discipline in
gratitude. Doing so will please me, my boys, and the entire slave team, because
it will make you into a strong and profitable hard labor product. For the rest
of your life you will be serving me and my boys. You were born to serve, so
serve us well!"

As Mr. Baldwin gave a slight bow to indicate he was finished, Mr. Humphries
addressed Christopher's father. "Mr. Worthington, I understood you were
offering all of Christopher's clothing and possessions for a lump sum which has
been included in the final bid."

Mr. Worthington made a quick hand gesture to put the subject off, and quietly
added, "Yes, Mr. Humphries, I was hoping we could attend to that in just a few
moments, once we are alone." Humphries complied.

As Mr. Baldwin started to collect his papers and bid his farewells, the
officers were chaining and cuffing Christopher. The muzzle kept his mouth open,
the chains hobbled his steps. I watched him for a bit as the officers trundled
him down to the car. He was my friend and I was barely able to look at him
because of the pain and distress he was in.

Dexter stirred in the fringes, watching the company depart. He was like a
hovering vulture disappointed to find no remaining carnage.

My dad walked with me as we followed behind the e***** officers leading
Christopher. Mr. Worthington stayed behind with Mr. Humphries. Out on the
street, Mr. Baldwin got into a silver Mercedes, as the officers guided
Christopher into the back seat of the blue patrol car. When he was in, one of
the officers opened the door for me and I got in and sat next to Christopher.
The officers locked the back doors and got in the front seat, and we drove off
to hell.