PZA Boy Stories

Maiocxx

Curiosity Can Get You Into Trouble

PZA 5th Anniversary 2007-2012 Story

The challenge was to write a short story with more or less the following story begin (idea by BoyMike):
Story synopsis: Richie and Mike (12/13 yo) find two old collars of slaves of one the boy's father; they start playing (erotic) master and slave in the woods, so the tracking device send an alarm to the authorities. The older brother(s), who saw them playing, wanted to teach their younger brother(s) a lesson and told the slave police that their two new young slaves had wandered away.

This is Maiocxx's version. Click here for the other versions.


Summary

A teenager and his two young brothers are caught up in a nearly deadly game of 'playing' at Master and Slaves.
Publ. June 2012
Finished 6,500 words (13 pages)

Characters

Richie (10yo) and Mikey (11yo)
Matthew (15yo), their brother

Category & Story codes

Slave-Boy story
tb bb slave oral – humil spank bond
(Explanation)

Disclaimer

If you are under the legal age of majority in your area or have objections to this type of expression, please stop reading now.

If you don't like reading stories about men having sex with boys, why are you here in the first place?

This story is the complete and total product of the author's imagination and a work of fantasy, thus it is completely fictitious, i.e. it never happened and it doesn't mean to condone or endorse any of the acts that take place in it. The author certainly wouldn't want the things in this story happening to his character(s) to happen to anyone in real life.

It is just a story, ok?

Author's note

Thank you for taking the time to send feedback to the author at maiocxx(at)yahoo(dot)com or through this feedback form with Maiocxx - Curiosity Can Get You Into Trouble in the subject line.
 

Painfully, I pulled myself up to the barred window in my cell. All I could see out of it was a courtyard with scaffold. There were two nooses hanging down. Seized with terror, I pulled at the bars futilely; there was no escape.

Suddenly, two guards appeared and dragged two young boys up onto the scaffold. My brothers, my beautiful loving brothers were going to be hanged. I screamed and hammered on the bars, "NO! NO! YOU CAN'T DO THIS! THEY ARE INNOCENT! TAKE ME!" But no one paid any attention. All I could was stand there and sob.

The boys were naked, bound hand and foot, blindfolded and gagged. I could see plainly the marks from their whipping.

Two stools were brought out and the boys were lifted to stand on top of them while the guards tightened the nooses around their slim necks. I wanted to bury my head in my arms, but I just could not look away. The guards cut the bindings on their feet, ungagged them and stood back. The boys stood there choking and crying and began to pee themselves.

After letting them stand there for five minutes or so, the guard casually kicked the stools away and the two screamed and kicked wildly as they began to strangle. "NOOOOOO! STOP! NOOOOOOOO!" I screamed again and suddenly I was sitting upright in my bed with Dad's arms about me.

"What is it Matt? What's wrong?" he asked as I sat there gasping and heaving. Mom and my brothers stood in the doorway looking frightened. They hadn't been hanged after all!

I managed to collect myself. "I'm ok, Dad. Just had a bad dream! I'll be ok."

He looked doubtful, but got up. "Do you need me to stay with you?" he offered.

"No. I'll be ok." I answered.

"We'll stay with you," declared Richie and Mikey, and before anyone could object, they slid into my bed, one each side. Wrapping their arms around me, they pulled me flat again and snuggled down next to me. Dad pulled the blanket up again, tucking us in, turned out the light and he and Mom withdrew.

"What was your dream about?" asked Richie.

"Never mind. I don't want to talk about it. It was just terrible awful!" They knew better than to continue and I wasn't about to tell them! I loved them both dearly and I would never have visited that horror on them.

The next day, a Friday, was the day I had been waiting for. Mom and Dad were going away for the weekend and I was to mind my two younger brothers. They were looking forward to it also 3; we would have a whole weekend for our kind of fun 3; the kind we didn't want our parents to know about.

They were almost ready to leave late that afternoon, when Dad cornered me. "Are you sure you feel ok, after last night?" Dad asked me. "Maybe your mother and I should stay home."

"No, Dad! Please! I'm ok!" I hastily replied. I could see my whole exciting weekend slipping away. "You two deserve a weekend away. I know how hard you work. Go and have a good time."

"Well, if you're sure. You have Uncle Ben's number if you need anything." Dad's brother Ben wasn't likely to be sober enough to be much help for anything.

"And you two," Mom admonished my siblings, "make sure you behave for Matt. I don't want to hear about any trouble when we get back on Monday."

"We will! We will," they assured her.

The three of us waived goodbye from the front door and watched them back out of the driveway, turn and slowly move down the street. We were free!

Ushering them back in, I closed the door and turned to face my two charges. "Ok guys, I have an idea how we can have some fun this weekend."

'Yea! Tell us," they chorused.

The boys and I had been fooling around sexually for a most of a year ever since they caught me jerking off and demanded to know what that was all about. They were pretty well versed in most 'fun' things by this time 3; blow jobs were their favorite and I think they really liked drinking my creme. But this would the first time we were alone for an entire weekend. Alone for a weekend of sex.

"How would you like to be my slaves for the weekend?" I had surfed the net extensively and now considered myself an expert on that subject.

They looked a little doubtful, but then brightened up. "Cool! What do we have to do?"

"You must do whatever I tell you. Whether you want to or not. And you may not play with yourselves unless I give you permission. If you don't obey, you'll be punished."

They both giggled at that, but said, "Ok we'll be your slaves. You won't hurt us will, you?"

"Guys, you know I would never do anything that would really hurt you. I might make you uncomfortable. I might torture you a little, but that's all."

They thought for a minute and Richie said, "Sure. Why not? It'll be cool to see what you can think up to torture us."

"What should we do first, Mattie?" asked Mikey.

"You must call me 'Master'," I replied. "And get those clothes off! Slaves are always naked." For them, this was getting interesting. "Now get down on your knees and put your foreheads on the floor." They did as I asked and I gave them each a smart smack on their upturned little asses, eliciting a yelp from each. "That's how I will punish you if you misbehave. Now you may get up and we'll have some fun. Don't touch your cocks unless I tell you."

They looked at me wildly, but then grinned.

"Now, I want you to get into sixty-nine position." They had quickly learned that wasn't just one less than seventy. "Mikey, you get on top. Now you are to suck each other until you cum. First one who cums gets to blow me."

They set out with enthusiasm. Watching them go at each other had been one of my most favorite erotic scenes for the past several months. It didn't take long until Richie squealed and shook through his dry cum, well ahead of his brother. He immediately climbed off Mikey, snuggled down between my legs and started on me.

Mikey hadn't cum yet, so I invited him to straddle my chest and plunge his quite adequate prick into my mouth and I would finish him off. A second or two after he pumped his small load, I filled his brother to the brim with mine. And we all lay there panting.

"That was fun! What's next?" chirped Mikey.

"Just wait and see," I told him. "It's time for supper."

Mom had left us a large pan of our favorite stew for supper and I set about preparing for our first meal. After the stew was hot, I called my two slaves to me and tied their hands behind their backs. Spreading a tarp to protect the floor, I ladled out a generous portion of stew for them.

"How can we eat with our hands behind our backs?" Richie wanted to know.

"The way slaves eat," I replied, setting the two bowls on the floor. "Dig in and just be thankful we don't have any slave gruel in this house."

They stared at me dumfounded. But the pungent aroma of the hot stew got to them and they began to slurp their supper like good little slaves. By the time they had emptied their bowls, they were a mess 3; gravy all over their faces and down their chests.

"You guys are a mess! You need to clean up."

"How?"

"With your tongues!"

Almost doubling over from giggling, they soon had themselves mostly cleaned. Their rock hard erections demonstrated what they thought of that task, but I would not let them go any lower than their belly-buttons.

I released their hands and we spent the rest of the evening watching some 'special' DVD's I had hidden away. They sat open-mouthed as the screen showed every variation of boy-to-boy sex one could imagine, including some very painful ones. Throughout the 'show' they begged to be allowed to stroke themselves, but I refused.

Finally, as we were getting ready for bed, I relented and they quickly brought themselves off before blowing me again. I don't think I have ever slept quite as well as I did that night, with my arms around two naked boys plastered up against me. And in my heart, I felt a love for my brothers that was awesome.

When I awoke the next morning, they were gone but I could hear their giggles from their room. Slipping quietly out of bed, I stole silently to where I could see what they were doing. Just as I thought, they were going at it.

"Slaves!" I shouted, startling them. "I told you that you weren't to touch yourselves without my permission!" They immediately jumped back and raised their hands.

"Guilty as charged," quipped Mikey as they both giggled.

"Oh! So you think disobeying me is funny! We'll see how funny you think it is when I punish you." Truthfully, I had hoped they would give me an opportunity to try out the special punishment I had planned for them.

They didn't look too concerned.

For breakfast, I made them large bowls of nice gooey oatmeal. It was served on the tarp again, but this time I let them use their hands 3; to feed each other. It wasn't quite as messy as last night's gravy, but it stuck like glue and required a lot more licking before their faces and chests were clean.

After breakfast, I sent them to the shower, warning them again not to touch themselves. They came back to my bedroom, clean, but still hard.

There was a wooden box in our storeroom that had been left by the previous tenant. Dad had showed me the contents one time, but told me not to get into it. Sorry, Dad, but I'm going to disobey you. I sent Richie to get it and he was back in a flash eager to see what secrets it held.

"Go ahead. Open it."

Richie reached in and pulled out two metal and leather objects. "What are these?"

"They're slave collars. Every slave had to wear one. It marked him and let everyone know that he was a slave. Mr. Petegrew must have had two slaves about your size. They look like they would fit you."

"Well, since we're your slaves, should we put them on?" asked Mikey.

"Do you want to?" I asked.

"Yeah! It would be cool!" his brother assured me.

I nodded. Why not? I thought. What harm could there be? I helped them put the collars on. They fit snugly and there was a 'click' when I brought to two halves together. They immediately had to run to the mirror in their room to see what they looked like.

"Cool!" they reported. "Now we're real slaves."

"What are these other things?" asked Mikey, holding up a plug shaped object with several straps attached to it.

"They're butt plugs. Slaves often had to wear them, too. Keeps them horny all the time."

"Are you going to make us wear them, Master?" asked Mikey, slipping into character.

"Yep!"

They both looked a little scared.

"It will hurt a little going in, but you'll get used to it. Lean over the end of the bed, Mikey." I reached into my bedside table drawer and got a tube of KY that I had hidden there. I applied a good gob to his little hole, working it in with my finger. He grunted a little, but didn't try to pull away.

I lubed up plug and held it at the entrance. "I'm going to push it in, now. Don't fight it. It will hurt at first, but then it will feel ok. Are you ready?"

"Yeah," he answered, tears starting in his eyes. I had never fucked anyone or had been fucked, so I based my 'expertise' on what I had learned surfing the Net.

I started to push and the plug began to move into his virgin hole. "Ohhhhh!" he moaned. That encouraged me to push a little harder.

"OW!" he screeched.

"Just hang in there," I encouraged him. "It'll get better." I got past his sphincter rather easily and paused.

"It hurts! Please take it out! AHEEEEEE!" he yelled as I drove it home. I stepped back and he looked up at me crying. But suddenly, he stopped. "It-it-it doesn't hurt any more! It-it just feels good in there," he confessed.

"Stand up." I put the waist strap around him and made sure it was tight and cinched up the rear strap so that it was tight between his ass cheeks. The front strap had a ring through which I pulled his cock and balls and was then fastened to the waist strap. Using a pair of slave cuffs from the box, I fastened his hands to the ring on the back of the waist strap. He soon discovered that if he struggled it would pull on his plug and cause him pain. "How does it feel?" I asked him.

"Ok, I guess. It's like my whole ass is full."

Richie had watched the whole operation with mounting horror. He knew his turn was coming. Actually he fussed less than his brother had.

The last two items in the box were penis gags, which I inserted into their mouths and secured with straps around their heads. They stood in front of me, restrained, gagged and plugged, tears running down their cheeks. What a sight!

After a few minutes, I took the gags out and released their hands, but left the cuffs on. "I won't make you wear the gag," I assured them. "So long as you behave!" That seemed to reassure them and they stopped crying. "But you leave the butt plugs in until I say you may take them out. And then, only to poop."

For lunch I allowed them to sit at the table and eat sandwiches. They squirmed a bit from the plugs, but that was all.

After lunch, we went into the living room and I pulled them close to me on the big chair and put my arms around them and lay back. "You know I love you both very much and you have been very good little slaves." They both grinned up at me. "Do you want to go on being my slaves, or have you had enough?"

Mikey sat up straight. "You think we're wimps?"

"I must warn you, it's going to get harder. You have a punishment coming. If you stay slaves, there's no backing out."

"We'll show you how much we can take. We're not quitters," added his brother.

"You're sure?"

"Yessss! Bring it on."

There's a room off our basement that has exposed beams and that was where I led them. I placed them under two of the beams facing each other and had them each stand on a couple of boards, raising them off the dirt floor a few inches. Cuffing their hands in front of them, I tied a long rope to each, threw them up over the beams and pulled their hands over the heads until they could barely stand. Then, I blindfolded them and pulled the boards out leaving them mostly hanging by their wrists. They could take some of the weight off their arms by standing on their tip toes, but it was hard for them to keep their balance..

They immediately began to complain. "Quiet!" I ordered, "Or I'll gag you." The room was quiet except for a few sniffles.

I took a length of nylon cord and tied it snugly around each of their cocks and balls and pulled the two ropes together in front of them until their parts were stretched out from their bodies and tied them securely. They immediately began to squirm, each pulling against the other.

"How long are you going to leave us like this?" asked Mikey, voice quavering.

"The rest of the day, I think. I'm going to leave you, now. Enjoy your punishment." I walked over to the door, opened it and shut it again. Then I sat quietly on the chair I had placed nearby and watched the byplay. I wanted them to think I had left them alone.

Sniffles and groans soon gave way to all out crying. "Mikey, please stand still, It feels like my balls are gonna get torn off."

"What do you think it feels like when you wiggle? I don't think I can stand this much longer," he cried.

"Wimp!"

But, after about twenty minutes, Richie began to yell, "PLEASE MATTIE! TAKE US DOWN! IT HURTS! PLEASE! PLEASE! WE'LL BE GOOD!"

I guess maybe I had gone a bit over the line and I quickly went to them. "It's ok, guys. I'm here. I've been here the whole time."

I quickly released them and carried them, sobbing, upstairs. "I'm sorry, guys. I guess that was a bit much. I was there the whole time and I would not have let you really hurt yourselves. Can you forgive me?"

They both nodded.

"Is that the way slaves are really treated?"

"A lot worse than that," I assured them.

"Gosh!"

"Do you want to stop?" I asked them gently.

They thought for a minute. "No. We'll still be your slaves. We know you love us and wouldn't do anything to us that would really hurt us."

Their innocent faith was enough to make me bawl.

After their 'hanging around' session, I decided the boys had been punished enough for one day so I asked them, "How about we go out for some pizza?"

"Dressed like this?" they chorused.

"No, silly boys. Our game is only for in the house."

"Oh."

"So go and get dressed."

But I wasn't quite ready to release them completely. "Leave your butt plugs in and don't wear any undies. Put on your short-shorts and muscle shirts." I think boys their ages look so sexy in muscle shirts.

The reappeared shortly looking troubled.

"The collars!" exclaimed Richie. "We can't get them off!"

I examined the locks and tried several times to open them, but no luck. "I guess Dad must have the key someplace and you'll have to wear them until he comes home." That had not been my plan and it didn't please them either. "Well, I guess we'll just have to. Go ahead and finish dressing, but put on a shirt with a collar. Maybe that will hide the slave collar."

They were back shortly and I examined them carefully to make sure the straps and dildo didn't show. Of course, there were quite noticeable bulges in the front of their shorts, but for boys their age, that wasn't unusual. Their slave collars were mostly hidden, so I was satisfied we could still go out. They looked a bit unhappy, so I cheered them up. "You guys look good enough to eat!"

"I'm willin'," teased Mikey. "Me, too!" added his brother, their collars forgotten.

We started off for the pizza place, but as soon as we got to the park, they ran off shouting, "We're escaping, Master!" I didn't bother to chase them. They would come back when the remembered the pizza.

Rounding the corner, I was startled to see a cop coming toward me holding them by their arms. "Are you their Master? Are these your slaves? Why aren't they under your control?"

"I'm sorry, Officer. They're not really slaves. They're my brothers. They're just pretending to be slaves."

"Oh? If they're not slaves, why do they have live collars on. My transponder picked them up. Shit! They're running away and you're helping them. Do you know what the penalty is for that?"

"Yes, Officer, I do. But they're not slaves." I was beginning to feel decidedly uneasy about the whole thing and they were looking very scared.

Ignoring me for the moment, he turned to them and barked. "Get those clothes off. Slaves must be naked at all times." They were frightened enough that they stripped without hesitation.

Of course the butt plugs were revealed.

"That's slave gear! Ok, I've hear enough. I'm taking you in as runaways. What a shame; you look like such nice little boys, too. Get into the back of the squad car." The boys started to cry, but began to get in.

"Now wait a minute, Officer."

He turned on me, "You get in there too! And don't try anything stupid." He patted his firearm.

Locking the rear doors, he used his two-way to call in. "This is Patrol Six. I've just picked up two runaways and their helper and I'm bringing them in."

When we arrived at the station, my brothers were quickly marched away, bawling profusely, and I spent the next forty-five minutes trying to explain to a somewhat dense desk sergeant how the boys came to be dressed like slaves. I could tell, he wasn't quite buying my story, but he finally agreed to let me go home and wait for Dad. He warned me, "If you fail to return on Monday with your father, we'll go ahead and charge them, and we'll arrest you, too. And you know what that means!"

He did allow me to see Richie and Mikey. They were in a cell in the back of the station. The collars and butt plugs had been removed and their heads had been shaved. They had been scrubbed with some sort of disinfectant that left their skin red and raw. They were thoroughly frightened and miserable and I was only allowed to talk to them thru the bars of their cell. There was a single open window with a screen covering it.

"You're going to have to stay here until Dad gets home on Monday. I'm sorry I got you into this, but Dad'll get it straightened out, so don't worry. Just be very careful to do whatever they say."

They nodded and promised, "We'll be brave." But their bravery was to be short lived.

Before I was allowed to leave, the three of us were taken to a room, shackled to chairs and forced to watch a 'special' video.

It showed a young boy being hanged.

In the film, he was made to stand naked and blindfolded with his hands cuffed behind while they fit the noose around his neck. The left him that way while he cried and peed himself. After he had stood shaking for five minutes, they finally pulled the lever. But he was too light and didn't drop far enough the break his neck and hung there kicking and slowly strangling to death.

By the time the film ended, the boys were rigid with terror and I was almost as bad. I kept telling myself, "That's not going to happen to Richie and Mikey. It's not going to happen! It just can't! Can it?" I tried to comfort them without much success.

I went home, seething. But I was principally angry at myself. Mom and Dad had expected me to keep my brothers safe and take care of them and I had acted like an idiot.

The 'experts' say that a teen's brain isn't fully functional, not yet. That we are prone to do things that are stupid without considering the consequences. In short, our brains are still a work-in-process. I certainly validated that theory.

I decided to 'rescue' the boys. We would hide out here at home until Dad came home.

Once it was fully dark, I put on a pair of black sweats, chose my dad's heaviest wire cutters and left the house. Managing to reach the police station without being stopped, I stole around to the back, stopping at the window where I believed Richie and Mikey were held.

The cutters had barely closed on the screening, when I was suddenly illuminated by a bright spotlight and two cops grabbed me. They quickly dragged me into the station. The desk sergeant simply shook his head, "I knew I should never have believed you. Clean him up and put him in the cell next to his slaves."

'Clean up' consisted of having my head shaved and being scrubbed with the same 'disinfectant' they had used on Richie and Mikey. It certainly destroyed any germs I might have had on my body. It burned like hell and had one other property. It completely removed all my body hair 3; including my pubes. The guard sadistically told me, "It makes it easier to dispose of your body once you've been hanged. When they were finished, they tossed me into the cell next to my brothers. Looking thru the bars, I saw another reason why my 'mission of mercy' would have failed.

They were both shackled to their bunks.

My classmates had often told me, "In this town, the policeman is not your friend!" I believed them.

All day Sunday, I lay on my bunk, crying and frightened out of my wits. I kept hoping this was another nightmare. That I would wake up and everything would be all right. But it wasn't!

The 'show' that night was even worse than the night before. Three young boys and a teen were castrated 3; without benefit of anesthesia, of course. Close-ups showed the whole procedure in vibrant color. The three youngsters were simply strapped to a table and their balls sliced open and off with a scalpel. On the teen, they used a tool like a large pruner that is used to castrate bulls; one snip and it's all over. The amount of blood the poor boys lost was incredible. They turned up the volume so their screams were deafening. When the last one had passed out from the pain, the room was eerily quiet.

Richie and Mikey had passed out, too. Their minds had simply shut down and I was terrified they might not recover. The guards forced them back to consciousness and put them in with me, but they sat on my bunk and stared straight ahead. At least I could take them into my arms. What had I done to them?

Monday morning we were formally charged. The dragged us before a 'magistrate' and we had to stand there and listen to the officers who arrested us tell their tales. Once again I tried to explain what happened, but they didn't want to hear that, and we would go before the Slave Court the next day. As we were to find out, it was a 'kangaroo court' and we would be found guilty no matter what.

The three of us were then returned to a common cell. We were blindfolded, gagged, shackled to metal bunks spread-eagle and left alone to await our fate. I could hear my brothers whimpering on either side of me.

Every so often, someone would come into our cell, sit next to me and 'milk' me. I think he did the same to Mikey, too, but I couldn't tell.

Late Monday afternoon, my gag was removed and I was dragged to another room. When my blindfold was removed, I was shocked and very relieved to see Dad waiting for me. He reached out his arms and I cried in them for several minutes. He wasn't angry, just disappointed. And there was another look in his eyes I had never seen before… he was frightened.

I explained what had happened 3; leaving out the sex parts, of course 3; and then said, "Dad, just let them hang me! I'm not worth saving. I don't deserve to be your son."

"Don't be foolish, Matt.! Don't talk that way!"

"Yes, I'm disappointed in you, but your mom and I still love you. It's partly my fault. I should have disposed of that box years ago. I should have taught you more about our custom of slavery. Anyway, Mr. Slocum, our lawyer, is trying to get the charges quashed. I just hope to God he's able to reason with these people."

Dad had to leave and they returned me to our cell. They released us and removed the boys' gags and blindfolds. At least I could hold them through the long night.

The next morning, we went to 'court'.

The three of us were chained 3; our hands behind our backs and our feet shackled to short bars 3; and were led stumbling into the courtroom and made to stand uncomfortably in the prisoner's box. Dad and Mom sat behind us, weeping. Under the Slave Acts, this was a summary court but had the full authority to sentence us to castration and life-long slavery or even death by hanging. No counsel was permitted as slaves were not considered human.

The Judge graveled the 'trial' to order and quickly disposed of our case. "The defendants Richard and Michael Sharp are charged with attempting to escape lawful bondage and the defendant Matthew Sharp is charged with aiding and abetting their flight. They have been convicted by their own actions. Richard and Michael are to be taken from this court and hanged by their necks until dead."

I grabbed my two brothers and tried to shield them from the meaning of those awful words. They were so numb with terror I'm sure they didn't even hear the Judge ordering their deaths. But I cried piteously. Mom broke down completely and had to be carried from the courtroom.

The Judge then pronounced my sentence. "Matthew Sharp is to be handed over to the Slave Authority to be prepared for life-long penal service." I knew what that meant; they would slice off my balls and I would be sold to a mine.

Dad threw himself at the feet of the Judge. "Please, Your Honor, the boys are not slaves! They are good boys, just a bit rambunctious. They meant no harm. We don't have slaves in our household so I never much explained about them. The collars were left by a previous tenant and I didn't realize they could still be live. I should have taught them better. It's my fault! Don't send them to their deaths!" he begged.

The Judge pretended to examine the paperwork in front of him for some minutes as the three of us stood there shaking and Dad knelt there weeping. We were too scared to weep and all I could think about was my nightmare a few nights ago. Had God been trying to warn me?

The Judge obviously enjoyed making Dad grovel and beg, but, finally, scowled at Dad and said, "Very well, I will vacate those sentences."

All of us nearly collapsed with relief. After some minutes we were able to think clearly and realized the Judge was not finished with us 3; not quite yet.

"But, all of you must be taught a hard lesson."

"Richard and Michael, come and stand before me." They struggled forward and stood there still shaking and weeping. "Get off your knees and join them, Mr. Sharp."

"Richard Sharp and Michael Sharp, I sentence you to three months Class Two Slavery in the household of your parents. During that time you will be naked at all times except for your slave collars, in private and in public and will be subject to strict slave discipline. That includes going to school."

At this last statement, they both looked at the Judge in horror. "But there are girls there!" lamented Mikey. "They'll see our things!" echoed his brother.

Ignoring the two, the Judge turned to Dad. "And you, Mr. Sharp, must discipline them strictly. They must be fed only slave gruel and be worked hard every day and shackled to their beds every night. They wanted to pretend to be slaves, so you will teach them what it really means to serve. Any breaches of decorum must be punished with the short whip. My bailiff will demonstrate."

The bailiff approached with a whip in his hands. "Down on your knees!" he barked to my two frightened siblings. "Foreheads on the floor and your asses up in the air." They complied and he swung the whip.

The sound of the whip striking Richie's bare rump was followed and instant later by a scream of pain from him and a red welt now adorned his little ass. Mikey was, likewise, beaten and competed with his brother's crying and shouting. Once the tumult had subsided into to choking sobs, the bailiff handed the whip to Dad. "Now you do it!"

Dad hesitated for a moment, but, then, resigned, added his stripes to his youngest sons' asses. "Very good! You will make a fine slave master."

"An inspector from the Slave authority will call upon you periodically to assure us you are treating them as slaves and not your sons," added the Judge. "He will want to see the evidence of your discipline on their backsides. Do you understand your responsibilities?"

"Yes, Your Honor," replied Dad as he led the two back to the prisoner's box. It was going to be a painful three months for all of them.

***

They didn't mind terribly being naked around the house and in front of neighbors and friends even though their bubble butts were crisscrossed with welts. And they did work hard.

But school absolutely sucked!

They were the only slaves in their school and, from the time Mom dropped them in the morning until she picked them up in the afternoon, they were teased, humiliated and bullied by their classmates. Groups of girls, in particular, liked to corner them for some 'hands on' exploration of their anatomy. They were forbidden to defend themselves and the teachers 3; much to Dad's ire 3; made no attempt to stop them.

"They are slaves," the principal told him, "and we were told we had to treat them harshly or we would be dismissed. I'm sorry for your sons, but I have no choice! I assure you I and my staff will make certain they are not harmed physically." Never mind emotionally.

Mikey's teacher actually used him as a 'prop' for sex education class. He even made him jerk off in front of the entire class and catch his spunk on a glass dish so they all could examine it under a microscope. And he filmed the whole thing. Richie's teacher did attempt to comfort him when things got really bad, but she wasn't above a little fondling and stroking either. The criss-crossed welts on their asses made it hard for them to sit still in class and they were punished for that, too.

When their term was over, the bullying and overt teasing stopped, but it would be a long time before they lived down the shame of those three months. Pictures taken by their teachers and classmates 3; including the 'jerk-off movie' 3; were all over the Internet. Meanwhile, I had my own horror to deal with.

***

"Matthew Sharp, come before me, intoned the Judge. I complied, trying very hard to be a brave teen 3; with little success. "Please join him, Mr. Sharp."

"Mathew Sharp, I sentence you to be taken from this place to the public courtyard, there to receive twenty-five strokes of the cane 3; well laid on 3; from your father. Following that, you will serve six months in the Youth Correction Facility as a common penal slave."

I had heard from my friends what a horror the Youth Correction Facility and its sadistic staff were 3; most of it even true. Naked hard labor every day in all kinds of weather, little food, daily beatings for the slightest offense 3; and other things. I would have to wear a slave collar and be plugged and gagged most days 3; and every night once the staff had 'finished' with me. But I would grit my teeth and take the worst they could dish out. For the record, my silly teen bravado was quickly extinguished and I emerged six months later, bruised and battered, a frightened, timid, hairless little boy again. Dad and Mom tried to help, but it was Richie and Mikey who showed me the love and comfort I needed to be whole again. It would be years until I could put that nightmare behind me.

Mom had returned to the courtroom in time to hear our new sentences and she came forward and kissed me saying, "Be a good boy, Matt. Your father and I will be here for you when you get out." Neither of them had the slightest clue what I was about to endure. I hugged her and, then Richie and Mikey.

"Come," said the bailiff, and I followed him into the courtyard where he fastened me to a frame for my flogging. "Be strong!" he admonished me. "Easy for you to say!" I thought.

The first stroke Dad administered demonstrated convincingly that the pain was so much more terrible than I could have ever imagined. By the time he had finished, I was hanging by my wrists barely conscious, streaming blood, snot and tears and hoarse from howling. My entire backside from my thighs to the middle of my back was a pool of fire.

But, even so, it had to be less painful than watching my two little brothers 3; the two little boys I loved so dearly 3; forfeit their lives at the end of a rope!

The End

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