This time he was going to do it right. After two previous "failures" he would obtain the right boy. The first boy, he made the mistake of trying to actually "convert." To become his "willing' slave. The boy left him in less than three months. His "second" boy, simply never could adjust to gay sex. And he wanted a boy who responded well to at least that portion of his "service." That second boy he sold to some organization which dealt in boy whores. Let THEM train the boy. His next boy he decided would be so modified that no other future, than as a sex-slave, would he ever be able to contemplate.

This boy who he had been stalking for a month now, he finally decided was the right boy. He didn't like being away that long from his clients -- he dealt in rare books and infrequently in other collectables when they were connected to the book trade. And just 8 years out of college he had built up a reputation which had most of his best customers finding him. And just the past week he had sold not only a first edition Steinbeck, and even an inkwell believed to have been used by him. (That sale made this trip feasible). He was never wealthy but he did well enough to have bought an old run down townhouse and "fix' it up. One of these "fixes" of course was the conversion of an old dusty wine cellar, which was on a sub-basement level, into his favorite room --a place where, more in his imagination than in reality, he molested and tortured his 'boys.' He was intent now on finding a more permanent resident. Several times he had almost brought a 'willing' stranger back there but at the last minute, his paranoia intervened. But NOW he was determined.

Now he was fantasizing about his new boy. It wasn't just how utterly fantastic the boy's body was. His second boy was probably even a bit cuter, but that boy never did respond like he wanted. No. Bad choice. The man knew that he wanted a boy who was not only cute, and with a beautifully formed boy package, but one who could respond sexually. One who could eventual get to LIKE being molested on a regular basis! He was now certain that fate had led him to this boy, in this park, and in this city, even though he had picked it more or less at random, making sure it was far enough from his home in the large costal city.

At first he had roamed the city parks and playgrounds, finally settling on this inner-city one, where quite avariety of ethnic groups abound -- and of course pleasant to look at boys. Well, this boy, called "Mumbo" by his less than favorite "friends" was definitely in that category. It was some time,however,before the man had seen the reason for his nick-name one fortuitous day. And this time he had his eye on several prospective boys and "Mumbo" at that time was just "on the list" -- until the man had discovered that "Mumbo" was already almost 15 years old. Who would have thought; the boy looked no more than 11 or maybe 12. Weren't they making kids bigger these days? "Mumbo" couldn't have hit the scales at 75 pounds and was less than 5 feet tall. Not only skinny (which the man actually found appealing), but he still LOOKED like a young kid. That part was OK of course. But the man was looking for a younger boy in age -- though he wanted someone sexually mature -- who was likely more malleable -- more open to be "persuaded" to cooperate. Young enough that his sexual experiences were limited. After all, the man wanted a boy who would respond to HIM sexually and for the MAN to be his entire "sexual life." Hell, if his plans came to fruition, now that he'd been able to locate a "friendly" doctor, he would become the boy's ONLY life. And of course there was always the dream, improbable as it might seem, that this boy would eventually become maybe MORE than just his sex-slave. Well what's life without dreams?

So when the man discovered that the boy even went to the local high school, he had been quite surprised. And that was when he discovered that this boy not only seemed to have no friends, he seemed to be quite reviled by the boys who did give him any attention at all. But it was 6 days later before he discovered the origin for the boy's name, and the reason for his seeming ostracism. It occurred in the rest room at the local park. The man had been up in the bleachers next to the park's ball field, engaging in one of his favorite pastimes -- boy watching -- when he heard a commotion. Over at the distant restroom, he could see several older teens literally half dragging, half carrying a poor helpless youngster into the boys' room.

"NOOOO! Please don't hurt me. I can't help it!"

The man heard the smaller boy crying out as he approached the room. He stayed just outside listening. There was a bunch of scuffling and noise interspersed with moans and yells of complaint.

"Get' em off. Or we rip' em off," an older boy commanded.

The now crying boy complained: "No my step dad'll kill me if my clothes are torn again."

Some more scuffling and other older boys making quite ribald comments. From the overheard conversations, they were calling the kid "Mumbo" because he mostly mumbled, when asked questions, and for the alliteration "mumbo-jumbo." The "jumbo" part was for another reason.

A minute later, it was quite evident what was happening. The other boys were intent on forcing the smaller kid to suck them off. They were calling him all kinds of names since the boy evidently was believed to enjoy the sex, even if he at first had been unwilling. Epithets like cocksucker, faggot, queer, pansy, and many more, made up half of the conversation. One of the teens was evidently trying to force the kid to suck on his dick.

The man decided to SEE what was happening. He was quite aroused just listening. Five minutes later, and a lot more scuffling, the room was deserted except for himself and a very scared, very naked, very black, black kid. And the sight he beheld was amazing. The reason for the "jumbo" part was quite apparent.

"Holy shit kid! You're hung bigger than me! And you're just a little kid." His penis and testicles were so large in comparison to his size that the view was almost obscene.

The boy, now both more embarrassed than scared, was quickly pulling up his discarded, and now ripped, briefs. "Thanks mister. They's always hustling me, but that was the first time they tried to make me do that."

The man decided to play the role of "rescuer." He wanted to find out more about this kid. Wow, naked the boy was not only cute, but hanging between his legs was a penis that would have made any man proud, and most men envious. When the kid's boner became semi-flaccid, it still hung down halfway to his knees! (And don't just claim that well the boy was small). Semi-flaccid, it was still at least 7 inches. And the testicles were almost as impressive, swinging low as the boy hurriedly started dressing.

At first the boy was hesitant to confide in a "white" man --though the man was in fact of mixed Thai descent, and much more "off-white" than white. But the boy's apparent need for a real "father-figure" won out. And for the need to talk to someone. Eventually, over the next week, the man discovered that this kid's name was actually Kade, that he was just 15 years old, that his mom was dead, and that his step dad hated him since he had found gay porn on the home computer. The boy had also become quite a loner since his dad had deliberately outed him to all his former friends.

The boy was almost crying recounting his tale of ostracism. "I think Jimmy would have stayed my friend but was afraid of the bigger kids."

He even allowed the man to give him rides home the second week. The man was getting more and more convinced that Kade was HIS boy. He doubted there would even be much a commotion when he turned up missing. Especially the way he said he hated going home, about as much as his Dad and new "wife" -- definitely NOT married -- hated having him underfoot.

It was at the beginning of the third week when the man decided. The final deciding factor occurred when the boy admitted that he actually "sort of liked it" when those boys were trying to "do things" to him.

Soon his preparations were complete. He had prepared the container, arranged with his "friendly" doctor for pick-up in the next city west, and delivery a couple of days after that.

"Just make sure doc that the boy does not awake until AFTER I take delivery. I want to see the boy's reaction when he discovers what has been done to him."

The boy's last day of freedom was at hand. A "run-away" note was scribbled and would be left in the boy's schoolbag to be discovered in the boy's room. He practiced the boy's writing enough that it was a good enough representation, and he also doubted that the note would be given much scrutiny. He even wrote it on one of the boy's papers with the boy's fingerprints. Every one would jump to the obvious conclusion.

The boy was excited. The weekend approached and the man had promised to take him for an outing to the nearest Six Flags. After rising that Saturday, Kade grabbed some sandwiches, and snuck a couple of twenties from his dad's not very concealed cash, and snuck out of the house without his "parents" being roused. (The boy had never found the note concealed the day before in his bag. Who even opens their school books on a Friday)? At nine that morning he was happily riding with the man toward the other end of town to pick up the expressway. Then they exited where the signs to Six Flags were evident. Except he wondered if the man had taken the wrong turn. This section of town, though providing him wonder looking at all the huge estates they were suddenly passing through, seemed to be in the wrong direction.

"Max (the man had persuaded him to use his name),we goin' right?"

"Don't worry kid, just a short detour. Need to give something to a doctor friend of mine. Only take a moment."

When the man rolled to a gate, hit a remote on the dash, and two huge gates swung inward, the boy was amazed.

"That doc live here?"

"Sure does kid." And smiling he added.

They drove into a huge garage and was immediately greeted by the doc and his "assistant." He was also the "dental surgeon."

They shook hands and the doc said: "Good to see you on time. Got your money transfer and everything is ready to go. The surgeries should take only one day. And this the boy?"

The puzzled boy looked up but before he could ask an obvious question, yiped as he felt a big sting in his shoulder. The man had stuck a hypodermic into him! And before he could say much more he slumped into the man's arms. The man, whose name was really NOT Max carried his now recumbent boy over to an awaiting wheel chair.

"Please take good care of my boy. You said he'd be ready for shipment in three days?"

"No problem; the crate is all ready and the delivery company is all set for the delivery. It's only a hundred miles,"

The "doc" and his assistant brought the boy into his relatively unostentatious house considering his wealth, and laid the boy onto a small padded gurney. "Performing unauthorized surgeries kept him wealthy. The boy was wheeled into a small, but modern operating theater. Another woman was there who would be the anesthesiologist. The man smiled as he navigated his way home. The "doc" had been a gifted surgeon until they had revoked his medical license to practice. He had much of the talents needed, for today's work but for some special dental work there was his "assistant."

The man smiled at the image of his boy being wheeled into the operating theater. Kade was about to become his sex-toy. This was the very last day in which his boy would have control over his own body. The very last day he would ever walk. The very last day hey would ever wear clothes. The very last day he would have the luxury of using his hands as nature intended. The very last day he would ever walk. The very last day he'd have control over his own private functions of urinating and defecation. The vary last day he would even have his own teeth. The very last day he would speak without his master's permission.

Three and a half days later, and a hundred and fifty miles to the east, the man left a down-town warehouse with a huge crate on the back of his rented pick-up. An hour later he drove into a rebuilt townhouse in the center of the big city, but unlike most of the other ones in this newly upscaled neighborhood, this one had not been converted to condos. The first floor had been converted into a very posh and upscale book store. The next floor was the man's living quarters. The third floor was devoted to the man's hobbies and special art. The male nude figured frequently in many of the medium price ranged items. The man decided that he'd much prefer an excellent copy rather than a cheap original. He was more interested in the object itself than in its value. There was also the room devoted almost exclusively to collectors' editions of old pornography. Some dated back to the late middle ages. He even had an original of Christopher Marlow's Edward II -- his most prized possession, other than his boy. This work by Marlow was possibly the only Elizabethan drama with a homosexual protagonist. Of this era's literature, only one of Shakespeare's homoerotic sonnets, would have gained greater homage. Of course books are all well and good, but a slave boy, now this is what the man most desired to own.

Ten minutes later, a still sleeping and naked boy, was extracted from the uniquely constructed crate, and strapped onto a specially made "wheel-chair," specifically designed to transport small trussed-up boys. The man wanted the boy to awaken and to know what was happening to him. Even to experience the very first day of his permanent incarceration. He would never again know freedom. This was the very first day in permanent control by his new master. The very first day of his permanent slavery.

The boy awakened and tried to move and speak, but only a mumble came from his now severely gagged mouth, and barely a movement from his severely bound body. He looked around with frightened eyes until he finally saw the man smiling at him.

"What the fuck?" At least that was what the boy tried to say.

"Good to see you awake boy. I wanted you to be aware and watch as I take total control of you, and install you permanently into my dungeon, which in fact is reached through that very door."

The boy tried to struggle but quickly realized that it was useless. Perversely he sprung a wild boner that was trying to escape the tight confines of his pants.

The man hit some remote, a door was whisked into a wall, and he was wheeled into what he discovered was an elevator. He looked about wildly, still trying unsuccessfully to make himself understood, as another touch of the remote and the elevator descended at least two floors below the house. When the door reopened the boy tried to yell.

The man was wildly aroused. The boy was looking at a small but well setup state of the art dungeon. The boy tried to scream as the man gave him another injection. This would only make it impossible for the boy to resist physically. The man wanted the boy to be totally aware of what was happening to him. He wanted his boy to realize that there was no "going back."

The boy shivered and cried softly as the man lay him onto a padded table, took out his now unnecessary gag, and started removing the blanket into which he had been transported. Except for his bandages, the boy was naked underneath.

"You might be wondering boy, what is happening. Well, remember that story in the news week ago where they found a boy who had been held as a prisoner for sex? Well your story will end differently. He was dead when they found him. I have no intention of harming you like that. But the rest of the story fits. You are now my new sex-slave!"

The boy tried to move, but only his eyes roved back and forth. But aside from the medication just administered, he was now even strapped down. And his boner stuck up in all its 9 inches of glory. His rapid breathing, however, was more due to his sexual response that to fear.

The man continued: "No, definitely not boy. I want you alive and well for years to come."

As his body was completely exposed, the boy strangely looked at the man with more hope in his eyes than despair. He realized that this entire sex-thing was really turning him on. He was even now dripping pre-cum as apparently the medication did not seem to bother his genitals. Then he got fearful again as realized that something was not quite right. That was the last thing he remembered as the man decided his boy's body needed at least another day of recovery. Though no longer on IV meds, there was still the matter of his healing limbs and mouth and throat. And besides, all the new restrictive devices he had yet to fit onto his boy would not be there until the next morning. The man brought his boy into the small dungeon.

The boy awoke the following morning, and felt pretty well. Of course he was still quite medicated. But his feeling of well being was soon totally shattered. As he looked upward, at this big mirror attached to the very ceiling, he saw that his feet, below his ankles were bandaged. That is his ankles were bandaged. The feet were no longer there! His hands, strapped to the side of the bed, or what were left of them, were likewise bandaged. His penis seemed to hurt somewhat, and it too was bandaged. His tried to say something but his mouth seemed difficult to open. And his slightly swollen tongue tried to feel around to discover what was the problem. There seemed to be some sort of thick tube, not only entering his mouth, but even extending down well into his throat. Likewise he suddenly became aware of something filling his butt and rectum -- something REALLY BIG. He started crying at the implication of what he saw and felt. Then with even more fear he realized that not a single sound was coming from his throat. What was THAT all about? It wasn't until then that he realized that he was breathing somehow through a small tube imbedded into his throat.

He cried more intensely (but soundlessly) as he saw the man approach. The man who had kidnapped him. The man who had done this to him. The man who said that he would be his permanent sex-slave. And he started shuddering as his own body was apparently being traitor. He was so amazingly aroused.

"I see that you are awake boy. Today is a momentous one. You will be permanently installed within my residence." The man then showed his boy the loops of a medium weight chain. "You see this chain boy?"

The crying boy nodded in fear. This guy was totally bonkers.

The man pulled hard on the chain which the boy could see by the above mirror as anchored to a ring imbedded into the very floor.

"Well boy, You will be anchored to this dungeon by this chain permanently affixed to a collar which in turn will be permanently affixed around your neck."

The boy tried to object vocally but not a sound emerged except for a barely audible rasping.

"I suppose you are thirty and hungry. Also I suspect your bladder needs draining. After this is attended to, you will be made a permanent fixture of this room."

The man was also looking forward with his first time using his boy for sex. Looking at the boy's arousal, he had good hope that his boy could respond favorably. Too bad the boy's throat was still healing from its surgery, and the boy's bunghole was still being stretched. Well, anticipation of those coming events were also delicious thoughts.