Patrick

About a Boy

Book 2 of "I bought five little boy slaves"

Prologue

His lungs burned and his legs ached but he maintained his speed as he turned into the cobblestoned path leading up to the castle. This was always the hardest part of the tour. The cart rocked and jumped and he had difficulties to prevent the handlebars from slipping out of his hands. Almost immediately he felt the sting of the leather between his shoulders. He maintained his grip and threw himself into the chains that connected his harness to the cart.

Once they got closer to the stairs he braced himself for the command he knew would come. He felt that tightening of the reins some split seconds before the bit was pulled sharply into the back of his jaws. His bare feet slipped over the worn surface of the driveway as he fought against the weight of the cart. But, as always, he managed to stop the cart exactly at the point it was required to.

As soon as he stopped a boy appeared and got a firm grip on the pony's head harness. Another boy opened the door of the cart, bowed deeply and held his hand out to help the driver. The driver, a boy himself, dropped the reins and jumped out of the cart seemingly without noticing the boy. He flew up the stairs and into the open arms of his waiting father who picked him up and carried him inside.

The boy, who had opened the door, followed the pair silently, carrying a heavy school satchel, while the other led the pony to the stables. The pony, still pumping for a bit, followed him without resistance. It stood completely still, as it was unhooked from the cart, only to get a chain clipped to the front of its collar. The harness and headgear was then removed before the pony was hit by the cold water from a hose that washed away the sweat and dirt. It was all done in professional silence and soon the pony, groomed, fed and watered, lay down in its stable box on fresh straw and sawdust.

One

"How was your day, son-shine?" Mike loved that little play on words.

"Boring, as usual," Marcus replied, lifting his feet one by one so the kneeling slave boy could take his shoes off.

This happened seemingly as natural as he let his jacket simply slip from his shoulders, clearly expecting the slave to catch and put it away. Hugging his father again, Marcus took off to his rooms, taking an apple from a bowl held out by another naked, keeling slave boy, as he passed the kitchen area. After running up the stairs he pushed the huge double door open and stood, slightly impatient, in the middle of the room. The naked slave who had followed his young master closed the door as fast but also as quiet as possible, before rushing to the younger boy who was waiting for him.

Starting with the shirt buttons he undressed his master carefully but quickly. Once the boy was down to his dark blue boxer shorts the teenage slave knelt down in front of him and started to pull the shorts slowly down, well aware of the rampant little cock that tented the thin material. He brought his face very close and, as the young hard cock sprang free, he quickly caught it with his mouth.

"Oh Seb!" Marcus moaned as his rigid member was sucked into the warm and moist cavity. It didn't take long before Sebastian was able to extract some rather sweet liquid from his master's quite long but thin penis. Marcus, who was still just at the brink of entering puberty, sank to his knees, pulling his cock out of the slave's mouth on his way down. He wrapped his arms around the other boy's neck and kissed him passionately. "Thank you!"

"Master, it's been a pleasure, Master! " Sebastian answered politely, but truthfully.

"How many times do I have to tell you to call me Marcus, when we are alone?"

"Master, only in your bedroom, Master! Your rule, Master!" Sebastian chuckled cheekily.

And with a well-practised move he picked the younger boy up and carried him almost effortlessly from the dressing room to the bathroom, where he had prepared a hot and relaxing bath for his master and friend, finishing the daily ceremony that had begun when Marcus started going to school again.

Sebastian was there for Marcus when the enormity of being a free boy again became too overwhelming for the sensitive youth. And though Sebastian still fought with his own mental problems he was the rock his young master could hang on. It didn't matter to him that Marcus who was enslaved for the same 'crime' was suddenly freed while he still was a slave. He simply took his master's word that one day he would be free too, even though he knew that he would probably be an adult before that would happen, if ever. The manumission of Jan had given hope to all the boys that maybe Master Mike wouldn't simply sell them but free them, too ,when they were too old for his tastes. Of course they all knew that the master was into younger boys, and someday he would want 'fresh boy meat'. But when Marcus was freed he promised to do everything to get manumission for them. Jan was freed when he served more than half of his life in servitude. Sebastian knew, for him, that meant waiting at least seven or eight years more. But that was better than nothing, he thought.

The oldest of the six asked to become Marcus's body slave. He went through Master Mike's hard training without complaining, even when it came to tasks like drinking the master's urine and licking his anus clean after defecation. Sebastian chuckled every time when he though how embarrassed Marcus was at first by getting his ass wiped clean after taking a shit, but Mike insisted that when a slave was available a slave would do it. Period. The fact, that Marcus used to wash the other slaves' genitals and butts since they weren't allowed to touch themselves, made it even funnier for Sebastian.

Timo often outdid himself by cooking the finest meals, a treat however, that the slaves couldn't share. Mike was adamant when it came to feeding the slaves. They still got their slave gruel, the only improvement Marcus could achieve was that they now were allowed to sit down and use spoons while eating. Some aromas were added, too. Thunder, the pony boy, was fed with specialised pony slave food, often mixed with fresh cut grass to give his stomach some ballast. It's crazy what industry brings up, sometimes. Nevertheless Timo, son of a professional chef, was a natural at pots and pans. Marcus couldn't remember ever eating food so good.

Thunder, originally named Michael, became a well-trained pony boy. He had developed long and strong legs and a well-muscled body, deeply tanned by endless hours of running in the sun. He lived in the stable, looked after by the boys, but mostly by Timo. When he wasn't pulling a cart his exercise runs were often supervised by Sebastian who had become a good runner too. Thanks to their new collars Mike could locate them everywhere in the world so there were no problems with them out running for two or three hours. Still unknown to the boys was the chip inside their bodies that the authorities could use to find and identify any slave. (Marcus still had his chip but it has been deactivated.) Thunder was enslaved for life after being caught selling drugs at school and given to Master Mike by his father to 'keep him safe'.

Julian was no longer only Mike's play toy but also his personal servant. That meant lesser times in cages or hanging somewhere but also more chances for Mike to punish him. Julian didn't care; he had something to do now and was happy. His cock, however, was now locked away like all other slaves' things. His balls were hanging quite low by now, so the weights weren't hanging between his knees any more but were sitting on his balls, tightly wrapped around his scrotum, slightly crushing his testes with every step, keeping them irritated and extremely sensitive. Julian was deeply submissive by nature and had also extreme masochist streaks. He was the perfect match for a sadist like Mike.

Marcus purred like a kitten as Sebastian massaged his back and shoulders in the hot Jacuzzi. Mike had spent a fortune on turning the whole second floor of the 'castle' into a huge apartment for his newfound son. There was a bedroom with a more than king-sized bed, a dressing room with a walk-in wardrobe, the bathroom, a games room and, as Mike called it, the library, where Marcus could do his homework. Then there was a TV room and two en-suite guest rooms. Marcus liked it though he thought it was excessive. Even more would he have liked to continue sleeping and making love with Mike but he finally accepted that this was no longer possible.

Sebastian enjoyed the daily bath times too. Though Marcus hadn't said anything Sebastian and the other slaves still used cold water to wash themselves, so the warmth of the bathtub or the shower was very welcomed. He sponged Marcus gently, cleaning and massaging his former play mate at the same time. No, he didn't envy the younger boy at all. He had been there, in the mines, without any hope to survive. He saw boys and men die and he had seen 'the light' himself. But Sebastian liked to live, even the life of a slave. He knew there was hardly a better place for a slave to be than in this household. And there was Marcus. The boy held so much power over him but never abused it. Instead he wanted nothing more than friendship. And love. Yes, Sebastian thought, I love him too.

The Jacuzzi was quite big, big enough for four or five persons, so there was enough room for Sebastian to dive in completely. Marcus, now fully relaxed, let out a deep sigh. "Oh boy, that's life." But as soon as the words were out, he felt a pang of guilt. Deep inside, he couldn't accept that it was so easy to get used to 'using' his former mates and friends for his own comfort and pleasure, to giving them orders and expecting them to obey, and punishing them if they didn't. Nevertheless he knew that the 'sweet life' of being a master had already corrupted his mind and behaviour, and that he enjoyed this life. Like that moment.

"The royal penis is now clean, your Highness!" Sebastian said after emerging from the water, a line he had picked up from an old movie he had watched with his young master and that had also become part of their daily bathing routine. And though he had said it every time since, it still managed to pull Marcus out of his thoughts. "Oh wait, you insolent brat!" Marcus launched himself onto the older boy, starting the splashing and dunking both enjoyed so much.

Eventually they settled down; Sebastian helped his young master out of the huge tub and dried him with a warm and fluffy towel. Marcus used to take a nap before dinner time, so he lay down on his bed and quickly fell asleep. Sebastian pulled the blankets over him before he took off to clean up the mess in the bathroom.

Timo was fuming as he walked out of his master's office. It was simply not fair. The whole day long everyone was picking on him and nothing he did seemed to work the way he wanted. And now Master Mike had said he had enough of his attitude and that if he acts like a little kid he would be treated like one. There were actually tears in his eyes as Timo placed powder, cream and a new diaper on the changing table in the 'blue room' before he climbed up himself.

The boy hated that room. It was set up as a baby's room but with everything matching the size of a teenage baby – him. Timo considered that time as the worst in his life. He preferred being kept naked, even in public, to wearing a diaper. Being nude was part of being a slave, but wearing a diaper and a pacifier was degrading and humiliating. Timo was a proud boy, even as a slave. When master finally agreed to limit his diaper time it was one of the happiest days in his life. Yes, he had to play baby from time to time, usually cuddled up in master's arms while being fed with a bottle. He had really hoped his master had gotten over this since it had been nearly a year since the last time. But no luck, as he just found out.

Unconsciously his hand wandered to his developing genitals, only to find his not so tiny any more cock as tightly locked away as ever. This is going to suck, Timo sighed silently, putting his hands behind his head so he was presented in all his youthful glory to whoever would come through the door. Lying on his back with his legs spread wide all he could do was wait. His thoughts wandered. Timo knew nothing about puberty, raging hormones and such. All he knew was that something was going on with him but he couldn't get a grip on it. Everything was suddenly confusing and nothing seemed to be the same as it used to be. And he kept screwing up, mostly not understanding what the matter was.

His Master did understand; he had it all seen before. He knew Timo would rebel against the tight rules. The boy had been able to adjust and accept without being broken. He would become a challenge for Mike, but even more for Marcus. Marcus would have to deal with his own changes as well as with his friend's. Julian wouldn't be a problem at all and Sebastian had done very well so far. Thunder was already through the worst phase and had caused no trouble that couldn't be solved with some lashes of the whip. Chris had a growth spurt recently and was now nearly as tall as his master but there was still no trace of puberty on him. The vet was not concerned, though.

Mike had had a slave like Timo once. He was a high spirited boy, a good worker, generally obedient and happy to share his master's bed. Until the hormones kicked in. He became rebellious, unreliable and defiant and also violent against his peers. The boy was the only one Mike had ever taken to the vet to have him 'fixed'. That helped to cure his behaviour but his personality had changed. He was replaced soon after. Mike was determined to prevent Timo from going that way.

He recognised another reason for the boy's behaviour too. With Sebastian attending Marcus and Julian permanently in some form of bondage, he had the biggest workload of all. He did his kitchen job, groomed Thunder, did the laundry and was responsible for all supplies. Keeping the house clean, apart from Marcus's and Mike's rooms, did not even finish the list of his chores. Mike knew it was too much for a boy, even a determined worker like Timo. He had to change that soon. But worst of all, it was completely clear too Mike, Timo was lonely. During the day the work kept him from thinking, but at night, when not requested by Marcus or Mike, he was alone. And it took no genius to see that Timo had a big crush on Sebastian. However, Timo needed a break and maybe a chance to reflect his own position. Nevertheless the boy had talked back several times and Mike would and could not let this go unpunished.

Timo let his head fall back onto the changing table. He had seen the big paddle in his master's hands and he had no doubt what it was for. He lifted his legs until he could reach them and pull his knees to his chest, lifting his bottom up for his master to do as he wished. As his butt-plug was pulled out he obediently opened his mouth. But he was surprised as – with only a slight hesitation – Master Mike set it aside and inserted a middle sized pacifier instead. It tasted quite funny, Timo thought, nothing he had tasted before.

The boy took the five strokes of the paddle without crying. His butt was only slightly red but Timo couldn't help feeling dizzy. Being plugged for several years now, the boy's rear hole wasn't able to close fully without some effort of his side. The winking orifice was an invitation Mike couldn't resist. He sprayed it with baby oil and started to work one, soon two fingers in and out. Timo sighed. Unlike Marcus or even Sebastian he never could relax enough to gain any pleasure by getting fucked; pain was all he remembered. His arms and legs started to become heavy and Timo felt strangely calm; even as Mike added a third finger the pain faded quickly. He gasped as something deep inside him was touched. When his cock started to rise he realised that the restraining plastic of the chastity-cage was gone.

Timo just grunted as his anal muscles were strained to maximum by Mike's invading penis, so much did he enjoy the feeling of Mike's fingers stroking his now rock hard pecker. The drug Mike spiked the pacifier with was quite effective. Timo dozed off quickly, his head rolled to its side before he could experience the full pleasure. However, the smile on the boy's face proved the good feeling his master gave to him. Mike finished soon after. He kissed the boy's still rigid cocklet before wrapping the diaper around Timo's lower torso. He then placed the boy face down into the crib before strapping him tightly to the bed. Mike intended to keep him there for at least 48 hours. Most of the time he would be asleep; so it wouldn't be too much punishment. Placing a Teddy Bear next to the boy he checked all the safety sensors of the bed – Timo's health was monitored closely – and switched off the light.

A pair of tear drops fell into the small puddle on the floor, soon followed by another. The boy couldn't do anything else than enduring the searing pain in his bottom since his legs were trapped between the man's legs and his wrists were held tightly in the small of his back. He had lost count of the heavy smacks that rained down on his bare butt. Everything was on fire, he couldn't even discern the impacts of the leather strap, it was all like one single onslaught.

"Satisfied?" Jan hissed at the security guard.

The woman nodded and Jan threw the strap onto the desk in the mall security's office. Chris stood at 'attention', still sobbing and hiccuping. After signing a sheet of paper Jan clipped a leash on his slave's collar and stormed out of the office with Chris stumbling behind him. Only when the door to the rest-room closed behind them Jan turned around and pulled Chris into a fierce embrace.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, " Jan whispered while swaying his boy gently.

Chris was still sobbing too much to talk, but being held tightly helped him calm down soon. Holding his beloved boy Jan reflected what just had happened. After he got a call at school Jan had rushed to the shopping mall and found Chris in the security guard's office, his hands painfully cuffed to a hook on the wall, looking utterly miserable and terrified. Jan was told that there had been a complaint of Chris constraining a customer. The customer demanded punishment for the slave so Jan could whack him either right there in the office or the slave would be reported to the police. Jan was horrified; he had seen what had happened to slaves taken by the police. He knew he had no choice. Reluctantly he pulled Chris over his lap and strapped him under the gleeful eyes of the guard.

They split after they had fetched the goods Chris was supposed to get in first place. The shop owner apologised profusely which made Jan even more upset. It turned out that Chris had done nothing other than being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Jan returned to his school and Chris carried the heavy bag of groceries home to their little apartment.

Mike had used his contacts to get Jan a place in a business school. Jan worked hard and soon got the respect of his class mates and teachers – not an easy task for a former slave. He even went to some parties but was quite happy the girls lost their interest in him as soon as they learned about his past. There was only one person he wanted to spend his life with: Chris. He loved the boy more than everything in the world. It didn't matter at all that Chris was a slave; in fact it made it even easier. For a well-respected business man like Mike it was no big deal to be gay but for a young ex-slave just trying to be accepted in society it would – sadly – still be devastating. It was hard enough for Jan himself to accept the facts.

Chris was generally very happy living with Jan. He had grown to love Master Mike, but more in the way of a son-father-love. With Jan it was different. His heart raced every time he was close to him. Chris missed Jan the moment he went through the door. When Jan went off to a week-long school trip Chris had been almost physically sick. When Jan held him in his arms Chris could turn out everything and felt like being in heaven. He even regretted having grown so much he couldn't sit on Jan's lap any longer. Chris would do everything for Jan, and if that meant being his slave for the rest of his life he would be happy to be just that.

As mature he as was mentally, so immature was his physical development. His penis was barely as long as his little finger and hardly thicker. His balls were just two grape-sized orbs still held tightly to his groin. He was tall but looked all boyish, from his little toes to his cute snub nose. But since Jan had said he loved the way he looked Chris didn't mind. And though he liked it when Jan played with his boy parts, for Chris sex was to make Jan feel good and happy. He was proud that it was he who gave Jan his first blow job ever. He was proud that he finally could swallow the whole length of Jan's impressive cock. And he looked forward to the day when Jan decided he was ready to give him the ultimate price. It would be the first time for both.

At nights, when Jan and Chris were cuddled together watching some movie or enjoying their company in bed, they were equal. The other times it was Chris who insisted to be his lover's slave. He was no stranger to having his butt blistered lying over Jan's lap. When he looked at the damage to his backside in the hallway mirror – only after putting all the stuff away of course – he shuddered only by the thought what Master Mike might have done to him. He felt lucky to have such a gentle master and was determined to show his gratitude when Jan came home.

The chain rattled as Thunder turned onto his back. He was glad to give his hooves a rest. It had been a long day and the young master had driven him quite hard. He winced slightly as the area between his shoulder blades came into contact with the straw on the floor. As always the leather of Marcus's whip had left his skin sore but he knew Marcus was skilful enough not to break the skin. Feeling the whip was part of being a pony and, as Thunder was well aware of, needed to be or the human animal wouldn't unleash his true power.

Thunder stretched his body as much as possible before resting the back of his head onto his crossed arms, carefully not to come into contact with the tiny but sharp spikes of his mittens. These mittens were put onto his front hooves – Thunder actually called his feet and hands hooves himself – the second he was unharnessed from the rickshaw, rendering them completely useless for the boy. The only time Thunder did really mind was when the urge to touch his genitals grew too strong but the spikes effectively prevented such a 'crime'.

Night-time was the only chance for him to talk and it didn't matter it was only to himself. During the day only animal noises were allowed, not that his bit and harness would allow any understandable words anyway. He wouldn't have tried, though. He knew that his behaviour reflected on his master. He was still a proud boy and he wanted his master to be proud of him. So he was the tamed and well trained animal. His body was in perfect shape; well-muscled and totally smooth. He would have been the dream of every teen girl. But that didn't come even near his mind. His world had nearly collapsed as he heard the news of the death of his secret love Nico. The strict training had kept him from any silly actions. But when Marcus told him Nico was alive, though handicapped and living in a foreign country, his spirit was revived.

As much as Thunder feared his masters he adored them, especially young Marcus. Though he knew he was used by him like an animal and got whipped, he felt cared for and looked after. Marcus never had a harsh word for him, he always encouraged and praised. He always tried not to leave him in the bright sunlight or heavy rain; he rubbed him down when he was wet and gave him time to warm up before driving him to the max. And from time to time he slipped a piece of sugar into Thunder's mouth when he did especially well. Thunder wasn't the only pony at Marcus's school but the best groomed and behaved. He enjoyed the admiring and sometimes jealous glances from the pupils though there were taunting comments as well. Thunder didn't care. When Marcus was let out Thunder would drive up, stop and stand straight with his hard cock pointing up as well. He knew he was a sight.

Thunder relaxed and tried to fall asleep. Like always he was wearing a blindfold mask since Marcus had discovered the pony boy had some sleeping problems. It was quite comfortable and it did help him so Thunder didn't mind wearing it. He didn't hear anything but somehow he sensed the presence of another person. Thunder smiled. His unknown visitor was here again. He didn't know who that boy was. He didn't care. His cock started to rise in anticipation. Now he could hear the rustling of the straw as the stranger came closer. A zip was opened and pants were dropped. As always the boy got naked before he knelt down at Thunder's side. Thunder gasped as he felt the small, rather cold hands at his hardening shaft. The small body huddled against the strong legs of the human animal and soon Thunder let out another gasp as he felt the moist lips around his glans. It didn't take long, just a few strokes and licks, and Thunder erupted with a big fountain of white gooey liquid, squirting all over his body.

Julian curled his toes in an attempt to cope with the wave of pain that was running through his body. He couldn't do anything else since his toes were the only parts of his body that weren't immobilised by straps, shackles or clamps. Even his fingers were secured one by one. Julian knew he mustn't curl his toes because doing so meant triggering another wave of pain by activating little pressure sensors. Of course curling the toes was a natural reaction and that was the whole point of this torture session.

The boy had no idea how much time had passed or how many electrical shocks he had received so far. But he knew it wouldn't stop before he had willed his penis into an absolute flaccid state. For a 'normal' boy in his situation this would be a piece of cake, but for Julian pain meant sexual arousal, so the boy was stuck on a treadmill.

The other way to stop it was to reach an orgasm. The problem was his young tool was pressing against the tight plastic of its cage, not able to expand into a boner but too aroused to get flaccid again. Of course Julian knew getting off would mean further punishment but with a vibrating plug in his rear end that seemed to be the easier one of two impossible solutions.

Sebastian stood and watched his friend's struggles, with sympathy, even pity. But not much. Not any more. As everyone grew older the boys started to understand. Eventually they could believe Julian when he said he sort of liked most of the stuff Master Mike was doing to him. At one rare occasion Master Mike let Sebastian cum as he was mildly tortured himself and he had to admit that it was the best orgasm in his life. Not that he had had that many, though. And he got to experience the other side, too. He still was a bit bewildered about his feelings. He didn't want to hurt anyone. But at the same time there was a sense of power by having a whip in his hands. And his groin definitely responded to the sounds of leather striking flesh and subsequent shrieks and screams.

And so Sebastian's teen-aged cock rebelled against the confining cage as the boy got a better hold on the handle of the whip he was carrying. He flinched as the spikes on the top of the cage bit into the sensitive flesh of his cock head. Slowly he approached his tied and blindfolded friend, lifting the whip to deliver the first of five strokes onto each of Julian's exposed nipples. Every fifteen minutes Sebastian had to whip Julian by Master Mike's order. Sebastian knew he should hate that task, but he didn't.

Marcus hated the position he was in. It was not so much standing in a corner with his nose touching the wall while his bottom was throbbing. He hated the fact that behind him adults were talking about him, his behaviour and his school reports as if he weren't there. He had really hoped that would be history since he wasn't a slave any more. But obviously he had been wrong. He didn't even understand what was said, since the door to the conference room had been just left ajar.

He hadn't meant to be rude. It was completely against his nature. True, he had been daydreaming. But the math lesson was simply boring. Nothing was a challenge to him. Marcus had really tried to focus on his teachers explanations, but all the problems she set were far below his level. He had tried to explain but Mrs Rubinstein refused to listen. The argument boiled over and after a degrading remark about slaves Marcus called her "an ignorant cunt". He was dragged to the headmaster who administered six strokes with a leather paddle on Marcus's bare bottom even before calling Mike.

Mike came quickly. Marcus was quite surprised his father didn't acknowledge he was standing there as he passed through the office. At first, with the teacher present, there was a short discussion. Marcus didn't understand anything but shivers ran down his spine when he recognised the tone of Mike's comments. Though the discussion became heated Mike never raised his voice. Eventually he called "Boy, come over here!"

'This is going to suck', Marcus thought, but hurried into the next room. Whenever Mike called him 'Boy', it was better to obey quickly. Being Mike's son didn't spare him a sore bottom, though it didn't happen really often. Not knowing what to do or expect Marcus simply stood next to his father, facing the headmaster and his teacher. After some seconds of awkward silence Mike's next command nearly caught Marcus off guard.

"Strip!"

It took Marcus only a quick glance at his former master to convince him he was serious. His hands trembled slightly while he opened his shirt buttons. As always, Marcus was neatly dressed for school, wearing grey dress pants, blue blazer, a white shirt and a tie. The school didn't have a school uniform, so the pupils usually wore jeans and t-shirts. When the last piece of clothing fell to the floor Marcus's eyes went wide again as he saw the collar his father was holding in his hands. Not understanding anything and with wet eyes Marcus knelt down to receive the sign of slavery. With a collar once again locked around his neck he automatically went into the position of attention, barely able to hold back the tears in his eyes. What was going on?

"Is this how you want to see the boy? Look at him! What do you see? A criminal? A slave? Yes, he was both! Look at him! What do you see?"

Mike stood behind Marcus. Gently he rubbed the trembling teen's shoulders. Completely unexpected Mike pulled Marcus a bit backwards so the boy's back rested against his father's waist. Caught by surprise Marcus's hands left the back of his head in an attempt to keep balance. As a slave this could have caused a severe beating when Mike was in a mood like this and Marcus, still confused by everything, trembled even more. But Mike hugged him firmly from behind and continued to talk.

"I tell you what I see! I see a little boy, frightened and helpless. Helpless as his parents died, helpless as he got raped by the parish priest, helpless as he got convicted for a crime he didn't do and sentenced to slavery. Helpless as he served his master for two years. But let me tell you I never saw a person more brave and courageous than he. And I never saw a person so full of love and unselfishness."

Marcus heard the words but didn't comprehend the meaning of them. Mike ran his hands over his son's naked chest and belly, only stopping briefly as they brushed the rings in Marcus's nipples. The boy suddenly became aware that he had forgotten to take them out after his nightly adventures with his personal slave. The blood rushed into his face and the blushing became fierce when he realised that all the stroking had had an embarrassing effect to his lower regions.

"He always stood up for his friends. He took all the blame when something went wrong. He never asked for something for himself, even after he had been freed. I had hoped the school would help him finding his way back to the life of a normal boy. But I was wrong. As long as there is so much bigotry here it won't work. The boy did not fail you, Mrs Rubinstein, you failed him! He is smart, probably smarter than you and I together. He deserves better teachers than you!"

The teacher, shocked by Mike's words, jumped up and stormed out of the room. The headmaster just stood there with an open mouth. No parent had ever spoken like this in his office.

"And you, Sir, you were supposed to keep the boy safe. I trusted you. We had an agreement. You were to keep an eye on him and check his progress socially and academically. Why wasn't I notified about his problems with Mrs Rubinstein? And how come you did paddle him first and asked later?"

Mike had sat down and had Marcus stand at his side. A second later Marcus was looking at the parquet floor with his hip resting on his father's slightly raised leg. He couldn't stifle a yelp as his balls were trapped between his body and his father's leg. He squealed again as Mike reached under him and pulled them back, never stopping to talk.

"It's not that he didn't deserve it, " Mike said while examining his boy's butt, "but that's a father's duty. And believe me I'm quite capable to do that."

With that, Mike laid a series of hard slaps onto Marcus's backside. The boy's head and feet flew high but otherwise he kept silent. Tears welled up, though, but more because of the humiliation of being spanked right in front of the headmaster than from pain. It was quite a harsh spanking but as a slave he had had to take worse. The boy's butt was bright red as Mike stopped spanking him. He pulled Marcus up and into a brief hug before planting him on his feet, taking the discarded clothes piece by piece and helping Marcus putting them on again. All the while he kept on giving the headmaster the telling off of his life.

Struggling with his own emotions, thoughts and the fading pain in his backside Marcus didn't listen to his father's rant. He didn't worry. Everything was now in his father's hands which meant everything that was going to happen was to his best. He was more concerned about Mike's reaction to his wearing of the nipple rings. He knew someone would pay for that and that wasn't him. Since Sebastian was his personal slave it was Sebastian's duty to ensure Marcus was groomed and dressed properly. He would have done so if Marcus hadn't sent him to look after Timo before preparing breakfast. But Marcus knew well enough that even the impossibility of being in two different places at the same time won't save a slave from punishment for neglecting his duties. Each slave knew this from experience. Marcus had accepted that long ago and not only wouldn't he dare to interfere now he was a master himself, he even considered it as normal. It didn't even bother him that it was he who would have to beat Sebastian, after all the older slave boy would accept it as inevitable.

Suddenly Marcus was pulled out of his thoughts as Mike jumped up, took the boy's hand and with a short command "Come!" stormed out of the office. Marcus had barely a chance to say good bye to his headmaster and to grab his school bag as he was literally dragged behind.

The finger trailing the fading welts on his butt cheeks was highly distracting. The slave boy knelt next to his young master's chair with his bottom high in the air and his face a hand width away from some dreaded math problems his master had set out for him. He began to sweat since he knew time was running out and he was far from finished. The problems weren't that hard, it was that he just wasn't used to doing math any more. Everything had started after Master Mike had pulled Master Marcus out of his school and started home schooling him. Master Marcus insisted that the slave boys should do some learning too and as his personal slave and being the oldest one too Sebastian had to work on higher levels than his fellow slaves.

Sebastian sighed silently as he felt the slap on his butt, signalling him the time was over. He knew he was far from target and would do the next test kneeling on a triangular shaped piece of wood. He wasn't overly worried, though. Master Marcus never punished for errors, only for the lack of effort. He would spend some time over the younger boy's lap later while Marcus was explaining the problems, underlining it with some slaps but also rewarding right answers with lots of back rubbing. Sebastian soaked up every bit of affection up like a sponge. He adored his young master. Though he was the youngest of the gang, he was also the brightest but completely unselfish. He often did the homework of the whole gang with astonishing speed.

Another slap pulled Sebastian out of his thoughts. Knowing what was expected he quickly scrambled under the desk. He looked up at his young master and got an affirmative not. It was Master Marcus's reading time and, like Julian with Master Mike, Sebastian had to make Marcus feel good. Carefully he opened the zipper of the boy's fly with his teeth. He stopped for a few seconds to inhale the boyish scents of his young master. Being a horny teenager Marcus was already half hard so Sebastian hadn't much difficulty freeing him from the fabric of the white briefs Marcus still wore. Slowly he began to lick the hardening shaft and the two orbs in the still rather tight scrotum but kept away from the sensitive head. According to the sigh Master Marcus let out as he took his reading pad this was going to be a long sucking session.

Timo was mad. Mad at his master. Mad at the world. But mostly mad at himself. It was the harshest whipping he ever got, probably the harshest whipping his master ever dished out to one of his actual slaves. The pain of the welts that covered his back from his neck down to his calves faded slowly, the cuts had stopped bleeding. But the pain in his wrists, arms and shoulders was more acute than ever.

He had no idea how much time had passed. He just knew he was hanging by his wrists in one of the cells in the basement. His toe tips reached to floor but not far enough to give him some support. There wasn't even the slightest bit of light, not even through a crack in the wall or something like that. He was thirsty and his mouth was completely dry.

Timo knew he had fucked up royally. He hurt his master. It was no accident. He did it deliberately. Not the hurting itself, but the smashing of the plates. He had thrown the mother of all tantrums. The worst thing was he didn't even know why. He couldn't remember what had caused him to freak out. All Timo could remember was the look of disbelief in his young master's eyes as he had looked up from the piece of shattered tableware sticking in his leg. Time almost stood still as a drop of blood had slowly gathered and finally fell to the floor. Timo knew he was doomed.

It was pure luck that Master Jan arrived at the scene before Master Mike. Jan was able to take the piece of pottery out and clean Marcus's leg with a rag so Mike didn't see fully what had happened. Mike would spank or whip Marcus if necessary but if his beloved got sick or hurt Mike got near to overload. Timo might have not survived his wrath.

The boy didn't understand why he did such stupid things, why he kept screwing up. The kitchen was his life; his masters were strict but fair and even the sex with Master Mike became tolerable after he had learned to relax his anal muscles properly. He had even started to enjoy it; at least he was able to sleep in a warm and comfortable bed. The newest improvement was the cleaning squad that did the whole living area once a week. Now he had some free time and sometimes even got to kick a ball around with the others.

Timo's head went up as he heard the sound of a key unlocking a door but he was immediately blinded by the bright light of a torch. But as soon as the light came it was off again. But he could hear the soft breathing of a person in the cell. But nothing happened nor could he detect any movement. Timo tried to say something but nothing audible came out of his hoarse throat. Eventually he sensed a body close to him. Again he tried to speak but in vain. Anger rose again and Timo, with all his power left, kicked out. A rattling sound followed by a muffled "Ouch!" could be heard.

The light went on again, the beam towards the floor, and Timo could see a smashed bottle of water and some slave food scattered around. When he looked up, he could make out the face of his fellow slave and friend Sebastian. There was silence before Sebastian, with a hurt expression, simply whispered, "Why?" before he turned and left Timo behind in darkness again.

The door fell shut and was locked. Timo realised what he had done and – for the first time since the affair had started – began to cry.

"Dad, please!" Marcus whined as he put his fork down.

It wasn't the food itself. It tasted not bad, but it was just simple food and not what they were used to eat. Chris had done what he could but he was no match for Timo when it came to cooking.

"Not yet!" was Mike's short answer.

It had been two weeks since Timo had been whipped and thrown into the cell. He didn't hang from his wrists any more but all he had was a thin blanket and a few seconds of light as he was given some water and slave gruel two times a day.

Mike looked at Jan who was studying the contents of his plate.

"Do you think I'm too harsh, too?"

Jan flinched as he still did sometimes when he was addressed without warning. He looked at his former master and thought carefully.

"Sir, what he did was inexcusable. The master I had before you would have killed him instantly. But 3;"

"But?" Mike probed after a while.

"Sir, you're not that kind of man. You care for your slaves; you love them, even when you have to punish them."

Another pause.

"Sir, I might be just a former slave, but I'm no fool nor am I blind. I watched you as you whipped Timo. You didn't enjoy that. In fact, one could see you hated every lash. There's something special about him. Ever since you bought me I could see that. With me, the others, even with Marcus, a part of you enjoyed punishing us, causing us pain. Like it is with Julian. But not Timo. You always drove him hard; you were stricter with him than with everyone else. Yet you never looked satisfied. I think you love the boy more than you realise."

Mike sat motionless. The room was absolutely silent; one could barely hear the breathing of the three persons present. Suddenly Mike got up and went to the window. Minutes passed by. Slowly. Painfully.

"We are going to lose him." Mike stated eventually, turning around. "I saw it before."

"Sir," Jan began, rising from his chair. "The day I thought you were going to sell me soon; do you remember what you did to me?"

Mike shook his head no.

"You distracted me by making me do exercises. You worked me hard until I had forgotten what I worried about. But you did more."

Jan stood in front of his mentor; looking straight into his eyes.

"Sir, you held me. You gave me your attention and presence. When I was in your arms I felt safe. I had no worries any more because I knew you cared for me. I knew I wasn't just a disposable piece of property. I felt loved."

Not able to hold his tears back any longer Jan wrapped his arms around Mike.

"Timo needs you, Master! He needs your love, your attention. He doesn't want anything more in the world than to please you. He's outdoing himself time after time. I have talked with him a lot. He knows he is a slave; that he can't expect praise or thanks. But he has still some pride in him. Just give him some acknowledgement and I'm sure he will thrive again."

Just as he had almost lost any hope the boy had noticed that it wasn't as dark in the cell as it used to be. He could see the outlines of his hand when he held it close to his face. Before the only thing he could see was the red dot high above him that flashed from time to time. It soon became his only friend since he had to shield his eyes as the light coming through the door when one of the slaves brought him some gruel to slurp hurt his eyes too much to keep them open.

Only guessing that it was some electronic device he waited for long times for it to flash before he found out that it would flash when he lifted an arm or moved somewhat around at the floor. He talked to his little red friend, yelled at him, cried, begged. A part of his mind told him that he was just wasting energy but another part told him to continue.

Timo's mouth was dry and his stomach was growling. The water bucket was long empty and he had tried to moisten his lips with the urine out of his toilet bucket. He couldn't bring himself to drink it. The boy didn't know how much time had passed since Sebastian came the last time to bring him some food and water. He only knew it was far longer than ever before and he had feared that he was left to die from starvation.

Slowly, painfully , he saw more and more of his cell. It was still too dark to see another wall than that he was leaning against, but he could already recognise the old blanket he was wrapped into. For the thousandth time Timo scolded himself for his stupidity. He had no idea why he freaked out. It just happened. After the whipping he had hoped Master would forgive him. But every time the door opened it was just one of the boys. He remembered freaking out again, kicking his best friend. He cried afterwards. Even harder than he did after the whipping.

He could now see the chains and shackles hanging from the ceiling. It took days for the pain in his arms and shoulders to go away. At least he thought it was days, since he had no idea how much time had passed. His back didn't hurt any more, too. There! The outlines of the door began to appear. Oh how much would he like it to open and see his friends again. And Marcus. And Master.

He must have dozed off because as he opened his eyes again the light almost hurt. He blinked but suddenly he was fully awake. There, in the light, stood a man. A big man. Timo knew he was supposed to stand at attention but somehow he couldn't move. He watched as the man knelt down next to him. He watched as the man pulled the blanket away and unlocked the chain at his ankle.

A finger was put under the boy's chin and he felt his head lifted. He hadn't dared to look at his master's face. But now he had no choice. He looked up. He couldn't believe it. His master smiled.

Thunder had long since lost track of time and days. He lived for the moment and to be ready for his masters. It's funny, he thought, I even call myself Thunder. The boy wasn't really a troublemaker; he usually had just tried the easiest way. He had quickly figured out that the easiest way to stay out of trouble as a slave is to do as he was told. He loved running, too, so being a pony wasn't that bad. One of the few things he really missed was music. Out of school he was never seen without his ear plugs. He wondered if young Master Marcus would put a player into the stables. Probably he had a portable player too. The problem was, he couldn't ask, even if he would dare to.

The weather was changing. He felt it. The winter was coming soon. The nights were already quite chilly. It was raining often. Thunder hated the rain. The water burned in his eyes as he was unable to wipe it off his forehead. He couldn't shake his head either as this would be seen as bad manners; quickly corrected by the whip. And the cart was heavier to pull with the folding top up. Then the snow would come. Somehow he knew it was going to be a hard winter. He had always loved the snow. He loved playing in it and being taken skiing by his father – one of the few things he had ever shared with him. Now the snow meant more lonely days in the stable. The masters would use the car instead of the open cart.

He had been fed and watered by Sebastian earlier that evening. That meant his hood was fitted closely around his head and his harness and straps were pulled tight. Timo and Julian were always a bit sloppy with their tasks. But not Sebastian. Sebastian did everything correctly, almost pedantically. Thunder liked that, even if it meant he could hardly move at all. But there was always enough straw on the floor and carefully spread so he could lie comfortably. Not that the others didn't care enough, but it was just that extra bit that showed for Sebastian it wasn't only a chore; that showed he really cared, up to the little kiss on the forehead, the only place not enclosed by the hood, before he left.

Thunder had built a world of his own in his mind; his own little world where everything was perfect. In that world he was a hero; a king. He was standing up against the evil and protecting the innocent. That was where he went to when he lay on the straw with closed eyes; fighting the boredom of another lonely night in his stable.

***

At the same time Sebastian purred like a cat. He enjoyed the sensations as his young master's fingers worked their magic on his back. Marcus was a good masseur; he had learned to knead Master Mike's muscles very well. Sebastian enjoyed the soft linen too. He was lying on his master's bed; Markus was straddling him and ran his hand over his slave's back and sides. It was one of those rare times for Sebastian being served and he relished every second of it.

Sebastian knew that – for a slave – he had a good life. His masters were, though demanding and strict, also fair and kind. They understood that boys make mistakes. He understood that slaves had to be punished for mistakes so they could learn to avoid them. Sebastian didn't get trashed much anymore now that he was getting older. Two or three times a week didn't really count compared to two or three times a day in his early years as a slave. And when it was Marcus who practically caused a beating by keeping Sebastian from other duties he knew his young master would try to make it up to him.

Like today.

Sebastian winced from time to time when Marcus's bare butt made contact with the sore skin of his own. He didn't mind. It was too good to be able to relax. He knew, when Marcus was done, it would be his job to get his young master hard and slippery before offering his backside for him to enjoy.

Of course he would love to be able to cum himself. He had started to play with 'little Sebastian' well before he was enslaved and locked up so he knew what he was missing. But he accepted the fact he couldn't and even admitted that not constantly thinking about jerking off helped him to stay focused on his tasks.

Marcus had put a blindfold on him so Sebastian couldn't see anything when being told to turn over and lie on his back. He was a bit surprised but opened his mouth obediently as Marcus pressed a ball gag against his lips. He tensed shortly as Marcus clipped his wrists to the d-rings of his collar. The young master bent forward, placed a kiss on the older boy's nose and whispered, "Trust me. Whatever happens, don't move. Just relax and enjoy."

Sebastian groaned into his gag as Marcus briefly tickled his hairless arm pits and inhaled sharply as the younger boy sank his teeth into the tender flesh of his right nipple. But the pain was only short lived as it was quickly replaced by the sensation of soft lips sucking and a tongue caressing this sensitive spot. Marcus's tongue stayed in contact with the skin as he went over to the boy's other little tit. Working down the boy's belly Marcus soon was sucking and licking Sebastian's cute belly button while softly kneading his balls.

It took a while for Sebastian to realize that something was different. Just as Marcus was on his way down the treasure trail to the crown jewels Sebastian was more than stunned that his penis was standing proud and hard, free of its cage and pins. He wanted to shout as he felt Marcus's tongue tip swirling around his sensitive glans but he was too breathless to make even the tiniest sound. When he felt his friend was ready Marcus quickly straddled him and lined the erect penis up with his back hole and started to sit down.

In shock Sebastian managed to whisper, "Master…" but was quickly overwhelmed by the intense feelings he experienced for the first time in his life. Though he wasn't used to it anymore, Marcus descended in one single move, ignoring the pain. He wanted to give his loyal slave the best experience he could get. He smiled at his friend whose eyes were about to pop out when he removed the blindfold before slowly starting to move up and down. He tried to make it last for a while but this was too much for the teenager who has been denied an orgasm for so long.

Sebastian arched his back, lifting Marcus with him, and with a mighty roar he came, pumping his boy cream into his master's bowels. When the tension left his body Sebastian slumped down, breathing heavily. He tried to say something but Marcus simply bent forward and pressed his lips against Sebastian's. Soon exhaustion took its toll and Sebastian closed his eyes. When his breathing had slowed down, Marcus rolled to his side, pulled the blanket over both of them and whispered,

"Happy Birthday, my friend!"

***

He took the thin wire with a pair of tweezers and placed it on the tiny circuit board. He held his breath. Slowly he lowered the tip of the soldering iron. A tiny cloud of smoke. The wire was connected. Then the lid was carefully placed on the device. Only then he dared to let the air out of his lungs.

Chris wiped the sweat from his forehead. He heard soft snoring from behind him. He turned around and smiled. His master slept soundly in his warm bed. Chris knew he should lie with him, but he had to finish his project. Now it was ready. He put the device into a small box, returned all the tools to their drawers and turned off the light, as he had done every night for several weeks now. As soon as Jan was asleep Chris had started his experiments.

He had taken a very high risk approaching Master Mike without permission from Master Jan. But, most surprisingly, Master Mike was not only not offended by the request of the little slave but even kind and supportive. Despite always acting coldly towards Chris, Mike had become quite fond of the lad.

It was not only because Jan clearly loved Chris that Mike gave him to him, but also because Mike saw the potential in Chris. He knew that Jan would give his slave and boyfriend much more freedom to explore things and expand his knowledge than Mike ever could with other slaves present. So it was really for Chris when Mike bought far better computer equipment than Jan would ever need. He provided them with tools, software and books Jan probably would never understand. But Chris did already or would in time. Mike also paid for badly needed glasses for both of them. With the glasses Chris's idea was born. Jan had worked hard each day to catch up with his education and, with some help from different tutors, managed to graduate high school and would finish business school soon, all in just a couple of years. But that meant he had to leave the day-to-day things to Chris. Some shop owners and costumers had already suspected that he was a runaway or at least an unsupervised slave. Once it had needed Mike's intervention to prevent charges from the slave authorities.

So Chris came up with the idea of a device Master Jan could use not only to control his location and movements but actually see what he sees and hear what he hears. Jan could connect whenever he wanted and check on him, give him orders or even communicate with bystanders through the device. It was based on Master Mike's control collars but enhanced with audio and video technologies and attached to his and Master Jan's glasses. Both Masters would be impressed, Chris hoped, if it worked as it should.

Not that Chris doubted for a second. With all the tools, equipment and documents Master Mike had provided, Chris was learning fast and hungrily. When he had still been in school, people had always seen the fat, clumsy kid. Nobody saw the bright mind behind that facade. Chris always knew he could keep up with Marcus academically. He just never had the chance to really prove himself. Until now.

Tired but satisfied with himself he climbed into his master's bed, carefully not to wake him, and curled into a ball in his usual spot at the footboard.

***

Julian closed his eyes and gritted his teeth as another wave of pain ran through his body. He knelt on the floor, legs spread and his arms tightly bound behind his back. His face rested on the cold marble floor, which was kind of soothing since the side of his head was still smarting from the blow he had received from Master Marcus after he caught him begging with his eyes. It was really stupid but one of the things Julian had never been able to resist was a cup of ice cream.

Another tap of Marcus's shoe at his free swinging balls, sore and tender; swollen and blue after Master Mike had doubled the weights only yesterday, sent more pain to Julian's brain. Yes, he had deserved the slap but he just couldn't take his eyes away from the colourful and sweet cream Master Marcus put into his mouth spoon by spoon. Julian knew that was very bad slave manners and that Marcus wouldn't ignore his father's orders that the slaves would get slave chow and slave chow only. No treats, no snacks, no sweets. He knew Marcus had tried to change that, but to no avail. The only improvement had been that the chow got some flavour, still boring, but nonetheless.

Displaying bad manners was especially stupid since Julian knew Marcus was fuming inwardly. He had been told by his father to take Julian out and not to come back before dinner time. No explanation was given; just the order to get lost. It didn't help that Jan was clearly tense and refused to say anything too. And though Julian was quite thrilled by the prospect of being taken out by Master Marcus he soon discovered it might not be the fun he hoped for as Marcus clipped the leash to Julian's nose ring instead of his collar.

Julian had to endure several eye watering pulls until he found the right distance and pace to follow his young master safely. It was one of the warmer days of the outgoing year so Marcus was dressed in shorts, t-shirt and sneakers while Julian, of course, was completely naked. Holding his head down Julian did his best to get some glimpses of the surrounding. Since his enslavement he had not been in this part of their little town. There was so much new to see but Marcus kept on walking, denying Julian most opportunities to look around discretely. It was only after they had stepped onto a bus that he got the chance to watch the reflections of the windows on the shiny floor.

The bus was new as was the bus line. Most of the big buildings Julian could see were new too. The city had boomed and was about to swallow the little town nearby. But Julian had heard or seen nothing of that. From the castle grounds, on the rare occasions Julian was allowed to be outside, there was nothing to see of all the new industrial buildings; warehouses and shops. He was too occupied by watching he almost missed his master getting up and off the bus. He barely avoided another sharp pull of the leash by literally jumping after Marcus. Again he had no time to be in awe of the huge glass facade of the new shopping mall Marcus was about to enter.

They didn't stop until they reached a small Italian café where Marcus got a table close to the balustrade. He ordered a huge cup of ice cream that caused Julian, hoping against hope, to watch his master longingly while kneeling next to his master's chair. The sharp blow came without warning. Marcus simply put his spoon down and hit his former comrade with the back of his hand. No word was said, no word was needed. Julian realised what he had done, once he recovered. He had tripped over and since no other order came, he stayed down with his face on the floor, more ashamed of himself than hurting.

***

Timo couldn't see much from the kitchen window since it didn't face the yard but the driveway. Everything was wierd that day. In addition to being told not to leave the kitchen under any circumstances he had been put into chains, body harness and gag. He was ordered to have food ready for six people through the day. Every now and then Jan fetched some of the food but said nothing. He didn't look happy at all.

Earlier that day, right after Marcus left, a huge black truck came up the driveway, so big it almost didn't fit through the gate. Later some smaller vans, pickups, cars and carts followed. Slaves, mostly boys but also some girls, arrived by foot also and were herded into the yard. Most of the men who went with them carried whips and prods. After a while, some of the vehicles and foot groups left, some new arrived. Sebastian had been taken outside, too, and from what Timo had overheard, Thunder was also fetched. Timo really wondered what was going on.

***

Marcus saw his slave boy shiver when he gave his balls another tap, but he didn't feel bad about it, nor about the slap to Julian's head. He was a slave, and slaves get punished. Marcus had accepted that long ago when he was a slave himself. That he was now on the other side of the whip made no difference. After all, if Julian had tried that with Master Mike he would have gotten it far worse.

Marcus was no little kid anymore; he hated being told what to do and not knowing what was going on. But the ice cream had helped cooling down his anger. He got money on his card and was told to have fun. He intended to do exactly that. He didn't know why but knowing the little taps against Julian's balls was causing his father's pet some pain was somehow quite satisfying.

The young waitress brought a glass of coke. She looked at her young customer and the kneeling slave boy but said nothing. She saw far worse treatments of slaves in the three years she had been working for her uncle. She had been happy to be able to earn some money since at home there was no chance to get a job. Her eyes became misty as she thought about the little village in the mountains of Sicily, where her parents still lived with her brothers and sisters. Yes, it was a hard, poor life, but at least there were no slaves there. She shook her head and wondered what had triggered those sad memories. It was only much later, in her room in her uncle's house, when she realised how much the curly haired boy resembled her middle brother Mario.

Marcus was oblivious of the girl's glance; he was watching a pair of tall slaves, twins obviously, following their mistress through the crowd. Back straight, head up, their strong bodies glistened in the bright light, probably well oiled. They carried the countless bags with ease and grace. Suddenly he was disturbed by a big dog that passed him and immediately started to sniff at Julian's butthole. Marcus tried to get up when the huge animal started to mount Julian's back from behind, but he froze as he felt some cold metal on the side of his neck. No one who has ever felt it would ever forget what it was – the tip of a prod.

"Freeze, boy!" a deep voice commanded.