Dicaleb

Slaveboy Trilogy

with

The Toy

by Sub39m

Dicaleb

#1
Ponykids Race

The country

At last, the society here had become mature enough to understand the various forms of instincts that exist in the human brain. Especially, all sexual orientations were now accepted. Homosexuality of course, since a long time ago, but also all these various attractions that were present in people minds, of course very different from one to another. Attraction of men towards young boys were accepted, as well as inherent violence and cruelty desires.

But instead of leaving everybody do what they wanted, like in the jungle, this wonderful society, taking profit of its education and intelligence, tried to find a way to organise all this. So that everyone would be as happy as he could in life. Clearly, the modern technologies that allowed to work not too much, were useful for this situation. As well as the peaceful situation that this country obtained with the rest of the world by taking care of not creating inequalities between themselves and the other countries and respect the differences. Finally, it took a long time, the people manage to get rid of all the non-useful work: speculators, bankers, lawyers, insurancers, people who just distributed the resources without creating them. Now, all the work that was done was productive.

But that's not the centre of our story. It was just to explain how clever this society was and could imagine a way to organise their way of life so that all the tendencies deeply incrusted in the human brain could be taken into account. Violence was one of them, but the smart idea was that submissive tendencies and masochism also existed. Let's take the case of the males: it had been decided that about 10% of the population would be slaves.

The slaves situation

And this worked not so badly as (but only the computer knew it) most of the slaves were volunteers. At the moment of their choice at least. So, everybody was happy and a pretty nice harmony was reached.

For those who unwillingly became slaves, it was not lost at all. First, the training was such that many of them understood quite quickly that they were now useless pieces of shit and they adapted their mind to their situation. Besides, the selection was done every year in fact. And a set of new volunteers (or not) became slaves and replaced some slaves of the past year, who went again in front of the computer. They could have a good chance to get free if they wanted, because there were two sets of slaves: those who could still understand the way the computer worked and they were few (among them, some of those who had been volunteers to be slave the year before changed of course their mind, but not all of them), while the others didn't think any more, being completely adapted to their slave minds. And as the default option was "continue to be slave", those ones continued. What had surprised people at the beginning of the system, was that those who got free at a selection, appeared to be statistically volunteers at the selection of the year after (the life being a slave may be hard and tough, but you don't have all the worries of traditional life with responsibilities, choices to make everytime, love problems 3;)

Finally, everyone was adapted to his situation, except for some temporary disagreements. Everyone at least understood the tendencies of the others and this way the supremacy of a puritan culture hiding their deep real feelings and singing for stupid non-existing gods was over. The human being, using its over-developed brain had at last found its harmony.

The ponykids

Then, a function was attributed to each of the selected new slaves. Here the slaves didn't choose, now they are slaves, they have to obey, and they wouldn't have to choose anything anymore in fact (except, if they can, at their annual re-selection). The choice were made according to the visible qualities, the morphology, the strength of each slave. There were various functions: home slave, dogslaves, pigslaves, slaves that would do the hard works in the fields, in the underground 3; Each of them had characteristic piercings (in the ears, the lips, the belly button, the cock tip or the balls), collars, non-removable restraints or tattooed barcodes 3; What was common for all the slaves, was that they were completely naked all the time.

The general idea with the slaves was to get entertainment. With the boy slaves, regular sexual relations were of course accepted which was perfect for all the homosexual guys of all ages. So, even if there were specialised kids for certain acts, every boy slave would know very quickly how to be keen of smelly, greasy and dirty cock sucking as well as being deeply fucked.

One category of the boyslaves was the ponyslaves. Between 13 and 18 year old, they were called ponykids. They had a characteristic piercing in the nose in which a large metallic ring was soldered (4 cm [1½ inch] circumference and 8 mm [0.3 inch] diameter), with their status and references printed on it. The kids were selected for this function with two criteria: they should be strong to be able to run fast and carry heavy loads, and they should have large nostrils to stand the nose-ring. So, several black kids (nigger donkeykids as they were named for humiliation purpose) were often selected but not only: Asiatic ones, eastern Europeans type, Indians, but also the other ones when they seemed to be particularly strong. They would adapt to this nice ring.

As the ponyslave word says, they are made to do the job of horses. But when they are young, they are not really strong enough so that their first years of slavery would be devoted to their training. It appeared that a good way to do it was to make them participate into races. Even the older ponyslaves would participate in such races, which is one of the function of any horse, but it was for the young ones their main goal.

The race

Hundreds of spectators are in the tribunes. There are eight ponykids behind the starting line. They run by categories of ages of course so that there would not be too much differences. This afternoon, it is a 13 year-old ponykids race, fresh ones. They are going to run on the grass, slightly muddy, so that they will finish a bit dirty and they might slip a bit. But it will not hurt their feet as they are barefoot. That's not the only bare part of them. Indeed, they are naked as slaves should be, waiting nervously in the soft air the start of the race. Their angel faces are beautiful to look at. Except that we can't see their eyes which are hidden by a, as small as possible not to hide their face, black blindfold so that they can't see anything. They have heavy iron shackles at their wrists, which are connected by a short chain to the two arms of a carriage, 5 cm [2 inch] in diameter and separated of 80 cm [2½ ft]. There are no hand grips on the arms so that the ponykids have to hold in their small hands these large pieces of wood.

At the end of each carriage arm, about 1 m [3 ft.] behind, are the eight drivers. Each one is standing on a small platform, about 80 cm [2½ ft] large, with two wheels, one at each side. Their feet are in foot-straps made of two half-D metallic rings going from the bottom of the platform to the edges made of a 10 cm [4 inch] high perpendicular elevations. That is all for the trailer, so the driver has to be quite agile for standing on the platform in movement, just by pushing his feet against the sides as much as he can with a small help of the foot-straps. In this position, with the feet separated by 80 cm [2½ ft] and the kneels slightly flexed, you can see very well his cock and balls dangling.

Oh yes, I didn't say that the drivers are naked 16 year-old slaves who were former ponykids who won some races and had the honour to become ponykid driver. With their former training, their legs are very muscular and it's a good thing for them if they want to stand their position during the race. Their velvet soft skin and thin but muscular body are really nice to look at. They generally have piercings or tattoos to beautify them. Very popular were incredibly thick rings through the cock tip or ass tattoos (tattooed cocks directed towards the asshole). Some have kept their nose ring but they are not obliged to wear it anymore.

In its hands, the driver-slave holds two reins connected to the bit that is in the ponykid's mouth. The 2 cm [¾ inch] diameter bit is firmly tied to the ponykid's head. Thinner rubber parts are put at both ends of the bit so that the ponykid's jaw can be closed a little with its teeth biting the rubber. Two large vertical rings make the connection between the reins and the bit. It is in fact important that the bit is tightly fixed because it is the way the ponykid is going to know where to go. To be sure that there would be no vocal communication, the drivers have a cock-shaped gag in the mouth so that they can't emit any noise. All the fun of the race is that the ponykid is lead by its driver through the reins and has to trust this leading while it runs as fast as it can.

This situation produced some accident of course, and ponykids were sometimes hurt by the wheels of the preceding carriage or by any obstacle that the ponykid would hit at full speed because of a deficiency of communication between the driver and its pony. With the slippery grass, it also happened that a carriage stopped suddenly because the pony fell down, so that the following ones could not avoid the collisions. Well, in best situations, the ponykids were repaired and they could run again. Otherwise, there was always the possibility to send them to experimental laboratories.

To increase the entertainment, special features are added to the ponykids. Tit clamps are installed. It is forbidden to put them on except during the race so that their tits would not be used to it and the pain would be quite significant for them. A light chain is attached between the clamps, and another one is connected between the middle of the first chain and the cock of the ponykids. So that their cock is hold horizontal and in good display. This is really humiliating for these boys who are not yet used to be naked in public. To add to this humiliation, small globular bells are fitted around their cock so that they would jingle at every slight movement. While the drivers have nice but conventional haircut (very short, or long, or boyish haircut), the ponykids have funny or ridiculous ones: shaved everywhere except very long on the forehead, or shaved at each side but very long in the middle like a horsehair (very funny with nigger ponykids with woolly hair), or shaved from place to place with hair balls at different places. To finally add to their humiliation and their discomfort, a very nice horsetail, going up along their ass crack and nicely falling down again, was fixed to them via a butt-plug so large that they would not be able to expel it except by squatting and strongly pulling on it.

So the race can start. The start is given by a red light that becomes green. No sound signal is given. At the green light, the driver-slave uses its riding crop, the last element we didn't speak about. Each naked 16 year-old driver-slave has in its hand (right or left) a nice riding crop that it uses in order to tell the ponykid to start or to go faster. It is very funny to see how brutal can be the drivers with their pony especially at the start which is very important to get a good position in the race.

So here they are, running. The ponykids bodies progressively covered by sweat are beautifully moving, showing all their fresh muscles. The muscular 16 year-old driver-slaves are making also there best to stay on the carriage, showing their nicely shaped leg and arm muscles. All of them have their soft cocks dangling or jingling in the air, with tiny patches of hair above them. Their balls are moving madly and it is magical when all their asses are presented towards the public when they reach the first turn.

The classification

• 2 p.m. to 4 p.m.: races A, B, C and D: quarter-finals, with eight slave teams in each race.
• 4 p.m.: Semi-final 1: 4 firsts of race A + 4 firsts of race B
• 4:30: Semi-final 2: 4 firsts of race C + 4 firsts of race D
• 5 p.m.: Pause
• 5:30: First losers race: 4 lasts of race A, B, C and D (16 teams at a time, minus the accidents)
• 6 p.m.: Second losers race: like the first, a second time
• 6:30: Semi-final losers race: 4 lasts of semi-final 1 + 4 lasts of semi-final 2
• 7 p.m.: Final: 4 firsts of semi-final 1 + 4 firsts of semi-final 2

Between the races, the ponykids could rest a little. There tit clamps and butt-plug were removed so that they do not get used to them, but not the blindfold nor the cock bells. There hands remained also attached to the carriage, but they had the honour to be cleaned between each race. As they were all sweaty and covered with mud, it was useful after all, because we want to have them presentable and pretty at the start of the race. So, they were cleaned with a hose of cold water at quite high pressure. It is very funny to see them nearly jump and then shiver when they receive suddenly the cold water while they don't expect it as they are still blindfolded. Fortunately, they cannot run very far away as they are attached to the carriage which is then stored and cannot be moved.

In order to give motivation to all these pretty but naturally lazy boys, attractive prizes are given to the bests of them. Besides, special treatments are given to the losers, and this creates a constructive will to win inside the minds of each slave-team. Here are the traditional prizes that these competitors receive.

First prizes

Indeed, the weekly slave cumming is organised in public. In every town, everyday, you have such ceremonies with about a hundred of slaves for who it is the turn to cum. They are aligned on the central place of the town, and they go one by one on a stage where they are alone. There, they will have to cum in front of watching or walking normal people. As their hands are tied, either behind the back, or with solid restraints attached to the neck (it depends), they have to use for this a special device which is a sort of milking machine 'like for the cows) that is at the height of their cock as they stand up. So, often ridiculously, they manage to enter their cock in the device. Often, the slaves are already hard knowing what they are waiting for, which simplifies the exercise. Then the machine sucks and yanks them until they cum. It is a funny sight for the audience to look at them panting on the stage during their orgasm. All the cum is gathered in a bottle which will be used for any purpose: sauce preparation for some slaves feeding, useful juice for the sex-classes (we'll come to it latter) 3; If some cannot cum in 5 or 10 minutes, they may be punished of course.

For the three following firsts, the driver-slaves have only the right to get a blowjob from their little fellow. That is much better than nothing even if it's in front of everybody. For the four first ponykids, it is in fact quite acceptable to have to get fucked or to give a blowjob, because, they can think about the privileges they have earned until the next race for the first one, or during a week, four days or two days for the following ones. During these periods, they will sleep in individual and well heated stalls. As it is cage stalls, they won't need to have their neck attached to the floor of the usual common stall by a 30 cm [12 inch] long chain, which they don't find comfortable. The straw in individual cages is changed everyday and doesn't smell the piss and shit like in the common stall where the ponyslaves sleep. Nevertheless, they will still have to wear the nail gloves (sort of iron spheres in which the hands are inserted, and with extern nails on them) that are fixed to each of them during the night so that they could not yank their little cock (for each slave type, a way was found to avoid the slaves cumming except at the cumming ceremonies).

Another privilege is to be exempted from the evening punishment sessions. This is a part of the normal everyday life of the ponyslaves. And that is what the four lasts of the final and the four firsts of the semi-final losers race are going to find back with no change. These ones don't receive any prize but don't receive any special treatment as well. They can go back to the routine life of the slaves they are.

The slave life

Then, from 6.30 to 8.30, still naked, they run around a 150 m [500 ft] long horse circuit, inside a dirty hall. In order to be not too boring, for the guards, some variations are made: change of direction of running, loads fixed to the legs, jumping devices 3; The whip is sometimes useful to make the boys do their best. From 9.00 to 11.00, after half an hour of rest with hands attached to a wall above them (we don't want them to touch their genitals), they get arm training, doing push-ups, pulling heavy loads 3; in a sort of gymnasium. They are washed with a cold water hose at 11.30 after another rest time, then fed the same way as in the morning.

At 1 pm, begins the theoretical courses. In fact, they don't practise only sports, they also learn how to behave as slaves. The courses are given in a classroom just like in other schools, except the fact that pupils are naked, but not the teacher. From 1 pm to 2 pm, it is the ponyslave theory: horses anatomy and sexual life, how works a carriage, what people are waiting from ponies 3; From 2 pm to 4 pm, it is the common course for every slave about sexual behaviours of a slave. They learn how to make good blowjobs, how to lick fat, hairy and sweaty asses, how to accept all the nasty demands of normal people, how to play with animals, how to be polite ('sir yes sir', 'thank you so much for your generous effort to have punished me sir, I deserved it sir', 'what a nice cock you have sir', 'how tasty is your piss and shit sir', 3;). There are also practical courses, where the boys may play together. As they are not authorised to cum, the cum bottles obtained during the cumming ceremony may be useful here to simulate som e situations.

From 4 pm to 6 pm, they get the ponykid race training itself or they can be rented by people to be used as ponyslaves. Finally, from 6 pm to 8 pm or 10 pm, sometimes midnight or more, they get a punishment session based on their performances during the day. It could go from simple restraints, more or less comfortable, during a certain amount of time, to whipping or balling sessions or other chores to do. According to weight and body inspection by a doctor, they can be fed a bit more before going to sleep.

The rewards for the lasts

For the eight lasts, that are brought to the party too, it begins with a session of half an hour of electrical tortures. They are tied in various positions, not only spread-eagle, and electrical excitations are sent to many parts of their bodies, and especially the funny parts. Well, it is a sort of way to make their muscles work as their body jerk and contract in a lot of directions. This way, they might improve their muscular mass and their running performances next time. After the first half an hour, the less slow team of the losers is released (while the others continue their electrical session) and they are brought to the toilet duty stand: two cages, one for the ponykid, one for the driver-slave, in which they squat and are unable to move, their head going out through a hole and their mouth being gagged with a hose coming into it so that people in the pub can come and piss in them. After half an hour, the next team replaces the first one at the toilet duty stand, and so on. After the piss session, each slave, soaked with piss, will spend the rest of the night and the next day in a 1 x 1 x 1 m [3 x 3 x 3 ft] cage suspended in the squares all over the town, with a panel telling they are losers.

At the end of the party, there is an happy hour during which people can not only piss in or on the last ponykid and its buddy, but they can also shit in them. This shit eating party is one hour long and be sure that the last ponykid will remember to try to run faster next time. They will spent the rest of the night and next day covered with shit and surrounded by flies in their small cage, sometimes regretting their choice to become slave. But all these gentle games were a good motivation for the ponykids to run fast, and all the system worked quite well actually.

#2
My First Year as a Pigslave

In a far future, in a perfect world.

My name is David. I am a thin and not really strong kid, but with a pretty face, with brown hair set in a boyish way, long above the forehead and short on the back and the sides. Today, it's my 13th birthday. At home, we organised with my parents a nice party where my friends, my two older brothers, my younger sister and the little brother are spending a good time. We are playing video games, virtual reality ones, playing soccer in the garden and at the tea time, there's a wonderful birthday cake waiting everybody. The 13th birthday is an important one. Indeed, tomorrow I will go to my first slave selection. Many of my friends, a bit older than me, have already passed this selection and are still with me today. They didn't become slaves, except one of them. His name was Tom. It was a quite shy and silent boy. But everyone liked him because he was kind, intelligent and helpful to anybody. I guess he choose his fate at the selection, but no one knows except himself. Only one thing is sure, now he is a slave for at least one year.

The subject about my own feelings concerning the selection is in the mind of everyone. But it is natural to all to respect my own choice and not to try to know what I feel like. So we just laugh together about the possibility that tomorrow evening I could be a slave. There is about 1 chance out of 10 that I become a slave as it is the proportion of slaves the society appeared to need in order to satisfy the inherent human instincts. It had needed a long time, but everyone understand this now. But in fact, a lot of selected slaves, more than half of them, are volunteers. It could be a bit surprising, but the attraction of kids for masochism and submission at the age of nascent sexual feelings, is a reality. So, if you remove these more than half volunteers, there is only about 1 chance out of 25 to become a slave if I choose the random selection. With bad luck it may happen.

However, I don't really know yet what I am going to do at the selection tomorrow. I feel a strange exciting vibration in the belly while I think about the slaves life, and especially about the recent selection of Tom. I'm telling to myself: why not trying? servicing people, no more decision to take, just following the orders to help the society, being a productive boy and forget all these funny but a bit boring video games, and school. There is one thing being together attracting and repulsing: living in the nude in front of everybody. I find this quite humiliating for these boys I see sometimes. On the other hand, the same strange vibration fills my belly down to my genitals when I think about this. I still don't know what will happen tomorrow.

Today is the selection day. I have to be at the selection office at 10 am. You can imagine how nervous I am even if my mum and dad try to calm me telling me that there is little chance that I would be selected. In the case of a selection, there are still four kids at home to form the family. Nowadays, families are rather with a lot of children in order to compensate the many people who prefer to live without any child. So, if a kid was selected for becoming a slave, it was sad of course for the parents, but they understood the situation and managed to compensate with the other children. Besides, there was still a chance that the enslaved child would get released during the following years as we will see.

To dress, this morning, I don't put traditional clothes. I am given old and used ones from my older brother which are large and no more useful. I also put old tongs instead of my snickers. This is in case of. Indeed, if you are selected, you have to strip and your clothes are kept until you would need them perhaps, one or several years later.

And now it is time to go. I will go there with dad. I say goodbye to all the rest of the family. Mum looks anyway a bit worried but she tells that she is quite confident that I will come back for lunch. My older brothers laugh at me, trying to make me afraid. But this excites me rather than scaring me, what a strange feeling. They already passed the selection several times without having been selected and now they have very low chance to become slaves. Then I go into the car with my dad who brings me to the office. There's about one hour and a half driving leaving time for me to think about what I am going to do.

At the selection office, we are about 100 kids with the same birthday. At 10 pm, it is the turn of the 13 year-old boys. While the parents and other accompanying persons go in a waiting room, we are gathered in a room for the instructions of how it's going to work. Then, one by one we go in the isolated computer room where, in not more than 30 seconds our fate for the next year will be decided.

It's my turn. My heart is really going fast. For many boys, there is no hesitation at all of what to do, and it is only a bit scaring regarding the uncertain result. But for me, I don't know exactly what I am going to do and I begin to feel this strange vibration in my body near my penis. As instructed, I sit in front of the computer. I am alone, nobody can know my actions here. The screen tells me: are you ready? After a few seconds, I press YES. It had been demanded not to spend too much time for the other boys who wait behind.

And now the countdown is started. I have 30 seconds during which I have the choice between the two options:

• option 1: "I want to be selected randomly";
• option 2: "I want to be a slave".

I can choose option 1. In this case I have about 1 chance out of 25 to become a slave. But I am irresistibly attracted towards the option 2. I can't explain why, this is crazy. But if I am a volunteer, if I choose option 2, a strange new life will open to me, new sensations. And finished with the boring cosy way life of everybody. Finished also with the school with difficult problems to solve. Why not, why wouldn't I try option 2? The only idea to do this seems to make me hot. No one will know I've decided this. They'll just think that I've got a bad luck, will be sorry for me but will accept it quite easily. Besides, there are always some possibilities to get out of slavery during the next years.

Each year, everyone goes to the selection until you are 25 year old, the slaves as well as the free boys. At the 14th birthday, about 25 percent of the slaves can go out. And they are replaced by new slaves selected from the free boys to compensate the number of slaves fixed at 10 percent of the population. So, for the free boys, they have, at 14 year old, 2.5 chance out of 100 to become slaves and there are still some volunteers, so the probability to become a slave is for non volunteers very low. That's what happened to my older brothers. At 15 year old, the percentage of getting out slaves is 20 percent, then 15 percent at 16 year old, 10 at 17, 8 at 18, 7 at 19, 6 at 20, 5 at 21, 4 at 22, 3 at 23, 2 at 24 and 1 percent at 25 year old. At 25 year-old only 1 percent of slaves are getting free (on the other side 1 out of 1000 boys were selected as new slaves), and it was their last chance. After 25 year old, the slaves will be slaves until the rest of their life. But you can say that if they couldn't get away, it is that they really were unlucky not to manage to get out at every selection. And that's what I am thinking for me, about the possibilities to change my mind during the next years.

Well, on the other hand, it is known that for the selections for the slaves, it's a bit different. The two options are:

• option 1: "I want to remain a slave";
• option 2: "I want to be selected randomly".

So, there are 15 seconds left. I do it? I don't do it? 10 seconds now. If I don't press any button, OK I still could be a slave, but only with few chance. The computer will make a random choice, taking into account the statistical number of volunteer slaves, and I will probably go home with dad just as if nothing had happen, waiting for the next year. Yes, maybe next year I can do it. But be careful, the probabilities to get free when you're older are going down very fast. And why losing one year? Why waiting? My finger is going towards the button of the option 2. I'm crazy, I'm crazy, I'm crazy 3; five seconds. My heart is beating incredibly strongly. Some sweat is even appearing under my arms. My finger, just above the option 2 button is shaking madly. Then I suddenly relax the muscles of my arm and the weight of my hand is reported on my finger which presses the button. On the screen, I see:

You have been selected as a slave, please take the exit and go to the left lane. Thank you.

This is it now, I know I am a slave for one year at least. Wow, what a feeling! I stand up and go out of the isolated room through the exit door which is another one than the enter. There, I enter a sort of large gymnasium, with a barrier separating in the middle two halves of the space. On the right, I see laughing kids talking together about their emotions. The parents and accompanying persons are also there, sitting on spectators tribunes as this room seems to be definitively a sport centre for other occasions. But for me, the access to the right side of the room is closed and I have to go to the left side. There I see, oh no! not here, already! There are two naked boys, standing there. One of them has just finished to strip and the other one, glups!

The other one stands in the middle of the left part of the room. Everyone can see him from the other side as there's only a simple barrier. He is accompanied by a muscular guard who manage to place around his wrists and neck a sort of thin but rigid iron carcan that obliges him to raise his hands at the level of the head, at about 40 cm [15 inch] from the neck on each side. Once the restraint device is locked on the kid, the guard attaches the wrists ring via D-rings to two ropes coming down from the ceiling so that the kid has to face the right side of the room. While the guard is coming back towards the other boy, the poor tied one is standing there naked, with absolutely no possibility to hide any part of his body from the people on the other side. His look seems absent. I can see a tiny patch of hair above his dick, and I begin to think about my own which has nearly no hair. Oh damned, I'm gonna look like a baby.

The other boy seems to cry silently. I guess this one was not volunteer. But, as people say, at our age, we can adapt to many things, it's just a matter of time. But for me, I'm beginning to ask myself if I made a good choice, and I'm nearly beginning to regret it when a guard tells me to come and to strip. He gives me a box in which I have to put my clothes. I can recognise my ID card, that I gave when I came, fixed on the box so that they can give me them back I hope next year. I don't know if my dad is still in the room. By now, he must know the result. He doesn't know of course if I am a volunteer or just had a bad luck. And now he doesn't have the right to speak to me. He will simply bring the news at home. But stripping there, in front of many people is already difficult. If you add that your dad could also be looking at it, it's terrible. I don't even dare looking if he's still there.

I have taken off all the clothes slowly, except my brother's old trousers. I have no underwear, just in case of, not to spare clothes. And the case occurred. Hesitating, I decide under the pressure of the guard, to remove the trousers. What a sensation! Now I am naked in front of everyone and there's no way out. But a terrible thing happens. I see my dick getting hard, I don't know why now. Oh no, I am gonna be ridiculous. But the humiliation just begins. I just follow the same way as my predecessors and come to the guard with the iron restraints. One minute later, I am standing in the nude, in line with the others, facing the public, with my arms up, and my dick up, and no way to avoid or hide this. I can hear the boys laughing on the other side. And in a short glance, I see my dad, still sitting there and watching at me. Oh gosh, how humiliating. For the rest of the session, I can't look at anything else than my feet.

After a bit less than one hour standing there, the session finally finishes. My dad is not here anymore. I didn't see when he went away. Progressively, new slaves were tied like me, while many boys had gone on the right side, happily looking at us. At the end, we are now nine naked 13 year-old slaves. A guard begins to connect our neck rings together with chains, while another one removes the ropes holding our arms. Then forming a small train, we are led out of the room under the applause and laughs of the remaining kids from the other side.

We arrive in the basements, made of bare stones, and where it is dirty, and you can hear a lot of noise of humidity droplets. But the atmosphere is very warm, nearly suffocating. We won't be cold. But the air smells after piss and shit quite strongly, it's disgusting. We are led to a small cell of about 5 x 5 m [15 x 15 ft]. There, we are each one tied to the wall via our neck ring. The chain that ties us is not long enough for us to lay on floor or even to sit. Still with our carcan, we can just kneel or stand up, roughly squat but not easily. We are told not to speak or we would be punished, all of us. The guard seemed quite convincing and there are clearly some cameras and microphones to keep us careful. Nobody dares a word when the guard is gone, closing the door behind him.

There's a lamp on the roof which gives a pale light, enough to be able to look at each other. Our position is really low. Some are standing, others are kneeling. I decide to kneel, being tired of standing up. The smell of piss and shit here is very intense. And indeed, you can see on the floor marks of humidity that must be piss as well as some pieces of rotten shit around the places we are installed. Considering the time passing, I understand rapidly that we are to be here for some time. I then feel the need to piss and even shit increasing. The full breakfast I took this morning plus the strong emotions I just had are doing their combined effects. I don't know how long I'm gonna resist. A few minutes later, I suddenly hear the sound of falling water on the stone. The boy kneeling in front of me is pissing on the floor with a sad face trying to say that he is really sorry for that. Then, understanding the situation, two or three others let their bladder empty. There is one pissing as he is standing up so that he makes more noise. He has a little smile on his face and his neighbour has a short laughing looking at him. They seem to enjoy their situation. OK, in this case, I do it too. I let my piss go and not controlling anything anymore, I also let my shit go out of my ass. I couldn't imagine that there could exist such a humiliating thing as to have to piss and shit like this in front of others and then having to endure the smell of the piss and of my shit that begins to fill the atmosphere.

This stay in the cell lasted the rest of the day plus the night, about 20 hours. I couldn't sleep at all I think. All my senses are in discomfort: the piss and shit stinking air, the dirty bare walls and floor with a pale and vibrating lamp just permitting to look at tied naked sad boys of my age, the noise of droplets continuously falling down, my aching knees and back on the floor and the wall and all my aching body enduring the uncomfortable position in a too warm and suffocating atmosphere. Even the taste in my mouth is bad since the guards came in the middle of or stay here to feed us. They said "Hi, stinking slaves, it's dinner time". At first, I was happy of this, as I didn't eat since my breakfast. But then I saw the two guard grabbing the first kid and inserting by force a hose in his mouth. They gave him water first. Then with a kind of big syringe filled with a brownish matter, they fed the boy pushing the meal into his mouth. When they came to do this to me, I understood why the boys before me had moved so much while they had been fed. The taste of the meal was disgusting. It tasted like shit mixed with rotten food. The consistence was a bit hard and crunchy so that I had to chew to be able to swallow this. And of course, with such a taste I couldn't do it at first. But under the pressure of the syringe and the rough but sincere encouragements of the guards, I had to do it. I had heard that the food given to the slaves are healthy and full of vitamins, products for the body development, with the exact needed calories, even the good consistence to keep the teeth working and be healthy. All this is scientifically controlled using the top-knowledge in medicine and biology because people want to have suffering but healthy slaves. But the taste has been worked too so that it is as disgusting as possible for entertainment reasons.

Well, after about 10 hours, I still have this terrible taste in my mouth. I am also a bit hungry however. I'm living a nightmare, everything goes wrong and painfully. I promise to myself that I will never, never again make the choice to be a slave like I did yesterday.

That's in these thoughts that the guards enter again. They say "Wake up, rubbish animals." It's no use to say that, I think, nobody could really sleep in our position and we don't really need to wake. "Time for the evaluation," they add.

One by one, we are realised from our iron carcan. I can barely stand on my feet and, like he others, I would never have the idea to try to run away even if I am now free of movements. We are led along the selection centre via various corridors, one guard in front and two others behind us. We begin to meet people in the corridors. Many people, normal clothed ones, are working there and we can see offices behind the open doors. Being myself stark naked and being conscious that I'm stinking more than a pig, the feeling of degradation is bigger than ever. I think it can't be worse.

Then, we are informed that we are going to have a check-up that will permit to make a full evaluation of our body and mind configuration. At the end of this evaluation, a decision of which type of slave each one is going to become will be taken and we'll be immediately informed in order not to waste time.

It's true. There are many types of slaves working in various domains. In fact, when I took this stupid decision to become a slave, I didn't really think about this question. What type of slave could I be. But anyway, it's not me who decide here, now that I'm a slave, I have to obey and take no initiative. In principle, there are a lot of criteria that help to determine what kind of slave you'll become. If you are strong, you'll rather be a slave who will do hard tasks, while if you have a pretty face, you'll rather be a slave servicing for people who like a good presentation. Besides, your feelings are taken into account. They don't want you to be completely non-adapted to your job, that's not the objective. So, they have many tests that help to determine what are your preferences, where you'll be the best. Finally, there is a computer intervention giving information about the needed slaves all around the country, the supply and demand for the different types of slaves, and a regulation can be done this way.

Thinking about this, I'm telling to me that what I would like to be, is a slave serving in parties with well dressed people. I would bring the food respectfully to the guests. It would be humiliating to be naked in front of all the ladies and gentlemen, but that is the slave way of life. I could even become a favourite slave to some nice ladies. I also would work hard at the kitchen and for making the cleaning 3; Oh, I hope that the tests will detect my mind. Of course they will, I'm confident, all this is done scientifically for the best.

Then, the check-up begins. Waiting my turn after the others, I visit several offices. First, there is the traditional medical visit, where they measure my weight, my height, but also all my body dimensions. They look at my teeth, my eyes, my ears 3; what is unusual is that I'm naked to do this. And I stink but can't do anything for this. Also unusual, they take measurements of my genitals which becomes embarrassing. They even take, I can't believe it, a measure of my 'anus in extension' with a sort of round device with a circular spring. What are they going to do with this data!? Then they take samples of my saliva, my blood, my urine (we had to pee the slaves altogether in a plastic glass for each just in the corridor, and as there was nowhere to pee the extra volume out of the glass, I had to stop my piss in the middle so that I strongly need to pee since this moment. As I couldn't stop easily, I nearly filled the glass. Then I had to walk and wait with my hot piss in the glass for more than 45 minutes until someone takes it for the analysis). Then, they also take a sample of my shit with pliers inserted in my ass. Pfff, what a story! The physical check-up ends with effort tests, strength tests, etc 3;

After more than three hours of physical check-up, I go to the psychological tests. I first meet a traditional psychiatrist who ask me first innocent questions, but finishes with more disturbing ones about my masturbation habits 3; I've never masturbated in fact, not knowing what kind of ideas excited me. I looked like a baby in front of this man. Then, there are intelligence tests. Finally, they lead me to a strange test where many electrical captors are fixed to my body, especially my head and my genitals. I am isolated in a room, standing up, and various things happen. I hear noises, words, screams, I see all sorts of images representing nice paintings or torture scenes, I smell also some strange odours, horse shit smell for example that disturbed me.

After two more hours of psychological tests, I am really tired. I would like to be cleaned and go to sleep in a good bed. I'm hungry too. OK, slaves don't need comfort and it's no use to waste time to clean them. Oh, it's difficult to be a slave. Never again, never again, I will choose to be a slave, how stupid I have been!

Then comes the moment of the decision of the type of slave I'm gonna be. I enter a room where seven doctors I met at the various tests, are sitting behind a large table. There's also a computer on the right.

They ask me: "You're David, aren't you?"

"Yes" I answer.

My heart is beating in my chest the same way as during the selection. Oh please, I think, let me be a servant slave or something like this. Not too hard worker slaves, who are in the underground all the time or working hard and being dirty in the fields. Not even ponyslaves I heard about once who are pulling very big loads and are tired all the time. Everybody tells that I have a nice pretty face. I would be good as a servant. Please.

The doctors are talking together but I can't hear them as I have to stand silent and naked in front of them in the middle of the room. I just can catch some words: " 3; weak 3; body 3; pretty 3; reaction to shit 3; sexual 3; unsure 3; computer 3; large demand 3; at this moment 3; possible 3; adapt 3;"

The minutes seem like hours to me. It is very important. It's going to decide what's gonna be my future. After about 10 minutes of what seemed to me an agitated discussion with several contradictory opinions, the doctors finally stop. I think I'm gonna falling down. I can feel some sweat droplets falling to the floor from under my arms. And the doctor in the middle stands up, and with a loud voice and a big smile says:

"David, you will be a PIGSLAVE FOR MEN. Next one, please."

A dark shadow is falling on my mind. I don't believe what I've just heard. I must have heard wrong. FOR MEN: it meant that I would be a slave belonging to a male master. I heard a bit about it but I never understood quite well. In general, the masters had sex with their slaves. But I don't know what it means concretely. I just know that sex with kids had been condemned for a long time in the past. It was justifiable to condemn it in a world where this was considered very bad so that the kids who could participate had a feeling of culpability and shame during all their life. But nowadays, the notion of bad and good have changed and are more in phase with the human being structure, pushing away all the old fake principles coming from the religious superstitions or the puritan society rules. What is bad now is the hypocrisy and the superstition. So having sex with kids is no more a problem for the kids as far as there isn't too painful acts. That's why I can imagine a little bit what the FOR MEN deals with. But I don't feel any attraction to this. Why me. Have I had a bad luck this time?

But if you add to this: PIGSLAVE!! Oh no, they are known to be the most dirty slaves, able to do amazingly disgusting things. When I had thought about the different types of slaves, I didn't even imagine this option. PIGSLAVE FOR MEN! It must be the most disgusting life possible. I can't believe it.

My mouth has been wide open while I thought about all that. But before I can emit any sound again, I am led by a guard out of the room. He brings me to a waiting room here I find again some of the boys who were with me in the cell. We all know now what type of slave each one is gonna be. Then, one by one, we are told to enter a room near where we are. When it's my turn, I enter in a room where two doctors receive me. It looks like a surgical chamber and there are some mirrors on the walls. I watch at myself, I look terrible.

"What do we have here? A pigslave, OK", a doctor says.

With the guard accompanying me, they have me tied on a table, spread eagle. When I'm well fixed, one begins to shave my hair. He removes everything and I'm now with a skinhead. Oh, I had expected to have my hair short-cut, but not so completely. But that's not the worse part. They begin to attach me a bit tighter with a restraint that prevent me to move the head, obliged to face the ceiling, and leather restraints around my belly and my thighs. Really defenceless, I feel fear rising in me.

Then, the second doctor comes near my genitals with a long needle, being sharp at one end and 5 mm [0.2 inch] in diameter at the other end. Some alcohol is spread over my penis. And with no hesitation, the doctor pulls back my prepuce to release the cock-head and inserts the sharp needle into my piss-slit to make it going out at the upper base of my cock-head. The pain is incredible. I scream as loud as I never did. But I can't move, I can't do anything. And the needle is inserted further towards the large diameter part. I finally lose consciousness.

When I wake up. I feel a burning pain around my dick-head. But I can't look at it. I also see a doctor working on my forehead. I feel painfully sticking needles hurting my forehead. The doctor is tattooing something on it. Oh dear, they don't care at all of my pain, not using any anaesthetic product. Why waste some on a slave, they must think. At the end, they just make a sort of laser treatment of my forehead and my penis, which seems to be used for accelerating the healing. The medicine science has made many progress in these sort of things. Finally, I'm released. My first look goes to my penis. Glups 3;, my cock-head has now in front of it a piercing with a heavy metallic ring going through the piss-slit. It is 4 cm [1½ inch] in circumference and 5 mm [0.2 inch] in diameter, and weighs maybe more than 100 g [3.5 ounce]). The ring is soldered and cannot be removed! Then, I cross involuntarily my image in one of the mirrors. I see my humiliating completely shaved head first, then my attention is attracted by the tattoo on my forehead. I can see that it is three big (3 cm [1 inch] high) black capital letters. I don't recognise them immediately as I see them on the wrong side from the mirror. Then I realise it, I can see the three letters P, I and G tattooed on my forehead.

Noooo! I'll have to live with this all my life. And when I'll be back in the normal life (I promise I'll do all I can for it), I'll have to wear long hairs (and it will be long with my skinhead now) or caps to hide this horror. I look at myself in the mirror, with my monstrous cock-head ring, my dirty stinking body soiled with piss and shit from my stay in the cell, my skinhead with the perfectly visible inscription PIG tattooed on my forehead. I barely recognise me, but this is me now, this is my new look. What a nightmare!

After this transformation, I'm led back to the piss and shit stinking cell in the basement. I'm tied to the iron restraints again and obliged to kneel for the night. The other boys are brought here too. Each of us have been transformed in some different ways, depending of the type of slave they've become. Some have just nice piercings in the ears, the tits, the belly-button. One has just an iron collar and an ear tattoo, doggy style. On the other hand, one boy earned heavy non-removable iron chains connected to his neck, wrists and ankles. He is ready for fields working. Another muscular black kid has a huge ring in the middle of the nose, with a ridiculous hair-cut. He's probably a ponyslave. We are three skinheads out of nine. The others had more luck than me, for sure. I think that I'm in the worst position and I hear and see two or three boys laughing and smiling when they look at me. We are finally fed the same way as the evening before and have to spend the night again in our uncomfortable position.

When the door opens again, after maybe ten hours, the guard says: "Wake up pissfaces, you are lucky pieces of turd. You won't need to rest here more time, lazy dogs. There's a slave-transfer truck leaving this morning. And we generously give you a good breakfast before the journey."

Then, we are fed again the same way as usual, with the same disgusting food. And we're released again and led, still stinking, to a yard where an old truck is waiting. It's very early, maybe 5 in the morning, the sun is not yet there. There's a lot of agitation here. Many slaves are waiting, of all ages. I'm one of the firsts to be gagged with a rubber cock-shaped gag and then locked in a 70 cm large, 120 cm long and 90 cm high [2½ x 4 x 3 ft] cage. The bars of the cage are 5 mm [0.2 inch] in diameter and give square apertures of 5 x 5 cm [2 x 2 inch]. It's very difficult to move in there and it's not comfortable at all. But who cares? Then my cage is put on the truck, like all the other slaves locked in the same type of cages. The cages are stacked on the truck with no lost space. There are finally three full levels of cages stacked one over the others and a fourth uncompleted level. Horizontally, there are eight cages along the length of the truck (8 x 120 cm = 9.60 m [32 ft]) and four in the other size (4 x 70 cm = 2.80m [10 ft]). There are about a hundred slaves here. My cage is placed at the bottom left rear corner of the truck. I'm looking towards the rear, not really able to turn round in the cage.

So this is like this that slaves are transported, gagged and naked in cages stored in trucks, using the roads. I would have never thought that, when I travelled with my parents to holidays by car. I'm amazed. The cages are fixed solidly. Then I expect that a kind of sheet is going to cover all the cages. But at this moment, I hear the truck motor starting. Some guards are speaking loudly and I feel the truck moving. It's really an old one, with no shock absorber and very noisy. The trip promises to be tiring. But the truck is moving, we reach the exit of the selection office and I recognise the road I took with my father by car when we arrived there two days ago. It's impossible! We can't be transported like this on the roads with everyone seeing us through our cages! Damn, considering my position, I'm gonna be the first one to be seen by people in their cars or even walking people. And that's what happen: we are going through several towns with red traffic lights, we are blocked in traffic jams 3; I'm so hu miliated being there naked with my cock-head ring and my PIG-tattoo! And I can't hide.

The only good news of the day is that we didn't go through my own town were my friends or my family could have seen me. We are indeed transferred towards other places of the country. In fact, there are some regions in the country where there are less slaves than in others. It depends of what the people prefer. Generally, families are living where there are few slaves. They prefer a traditional way of life with kids. But there are still some few slaves in some families. But in other regions, slavery is more practised. In order to balance the demand and supply, transfers of slaves are often done, especially to bring the kids who had been, voluntarily or not selected towards places where they are needed. In fact, if I've never seen such a truck transporting slaves, it's because there are not so many slaves where I lived.

While the truck is moving, I can feel some droplets of humidity. I realise that this is just piss falling down from the slaves at the upper floors. Indeed, I won't be long too, to piss in my cage. Considering the position of my cage, I'll receive everything. There's a sort of storage tank under me that will keep all the liquid just under me. How delightful it's gonna be to continue this journey with flows of piss falling on me and splashing under me!

The truck makes some stops regularly, every two hours, for the drivers to rest and to pee in normal toilets. Then the truck is parked on public parkings just like any other car driver would do when travelling. Can you image my feeling of waiting in my cage while normal people are just passing by with their eyes just at my height and seeing my degraded state, stinking worse than any animal? Several children have stopped there and are watching us. After a few seconds, they are laughing happily looking carefully at each of us. With our gag, nobody can make any response to tell them to go away.

I try to concentrate on something else. The fact that never again I'll be volunteer to be a slave, that's one point. Then I look to the other slaves, many are older than me. All around me, I see dirty feet. The slave at my left side, in a foetal position, is showing me his back and his ass. Then I look above me. It's a slave of about 20 year old, he's squatting in his cage and all I can see are the base of his dirty feet, his balls and his asshole. I realise that it is the first time I see an asshole in my life. It's disgusting but I am in a sort of way fascinated by this observation. I look at the colour of the hole, the few hair around it, the size of the hole, the way it is connected to the slightly hairy balls. I lie on my back, looking at this. I can see movements of the asshole now, dilatations and retractions. It's fascinating.

But suddenly, what happened? Oh nooooo! In a sudden explosion, I received on my face and my belly a burst of shit, half solid, half liquid. This slave has clearly not well digested his meal. The smell is unbearable but what can I do, just try to remove the shit with my hands but there's nothing to really wash myself. As we're going towards the South to warmer and warmer places, the temperature has increased. It's good because I'm not cold at all. But it's a disaster for the smell of the truck. At each stop, more and more clouds of flies appear around the truck, and I'm soon covered by tens of them also flying around my ears.

That's too much for me. I turn to lie on my left side and look again to the slave on my left. He has turn now and I see his face. He's about 16 or 17 year old. But what is he doing!!? His cock is hard and he's masturbating it. In his cage!! I see him panting behind his gag and he doesn't care at all of me or the other people looking at him. After a few short minutes, I see his sperm going out of his cock. At school, we already had a course on sexual education and I knew what it was even if I never myself masturbated. While he is cumming, the 16 year-old slave makes much noise and movements, and he seems to get a great pleasure from it. But he absolutely doesn't care the others. Dear, I'm surrounded by so dirty and crazy guys, help!! Am I going to become like them!?

(What David doesn't know 3; yet, is that slaves are usually authorised to cum only once a week, at a public ceremony where each slave inserts his cock in a sort of milking automatic machine until he cums, in front of everybody. The slave transfer is an exception where the slaves have no restraint to avoid them to masturbate. Their position is uncomfortable enough and it would be unfair to add other restraints. So, they can exceptionally masturbate, with their own hand, while they are in their cage for a transfer.)

And the travel continues like this. At each stop, the left neighbour masturbates again and cums again like an animal. My above neighbour continues to regularly shit his diarrhoea on me. I feel more and more uncomfortable in my small cage, in the heat of the day and the stinking atmosphere of this truck. The journey continues until the night. The truck being old, it doesn't go fast at all. What a disappointment when I realise that the truck has been stopped near a motel where the truck drivers are going to spend the night in their bed while we are going to spend the night in our cages!

The day after, the journey continues, it is endless. But from town to town, some cages are now removed from the truck. But I have to wait the last stop to have my cage removed at the final stop around midday. There, on the ground, a man comes with a hose and sprays on the cages, with us inside, some high pressure cold water. The cleaning is painful and pretty cold but the result to be washed at last is good.

Then, we are released from our cages and our gages, then fed by the regular method, and led to what appears to be a slave market. I'm brought to a stand where there are other pigslaves as I can see from their tattoos on the forehead. Like these others, I'm tied spread eagle by the wrists and the ankles. To be exposed to the passing people. There are only men here. I'm touched, watched on every parts of my body, evaluated and discussed by many of them all the afternoon. My right neighbour, a 14 year-old kid, is sold to a muscular nice looking man after he has hesitated on me. As the evening comes, I feel more and more tired of all these adventures happening to me so fast. Only four days ago, I was going to a soft bed after my birthday party. I will never endure a year like this. But one year is what I have to wait before I manage to certainly go out of this situation.

Just at the moment I begin to think that I will spend the night spread eagle at my spot, I finally realise that I have just been sold myself. As I have been so much touched by so many men, I didn't even pay attention to the guy. I see him when he locks a chain around my neck to bring me to his car. It's a big fat dirty guy who's just bought me. He's got a beard and greasy half long hair. His belly makes his shirt be in extension and the buttons are barely maintaining it closed. I can see a lot of hair around his neck and unbuttoned chest. He must measure 1.80 m [6 ft] and is very strong and heavy. He speaks very loudly to me when he tells me to lie in the trunk of the car that he then closes on me. I'm now in the dark of this trunk, being led by my new master to my new life of pigslave.

My name is pigface. Or shithead, or pissy, or simply fucking slave, depending on the mood of my Master. I don't really know how long I've been with him now. Maybe two or three or four months? But it seems years to me. Let me describe what my everyday life looks like.

I wake up in the farm at 6 in the morning. I first go to the cows barn to clean it. It consists mainly to remove all the cow-shit from the ground. As I'm naked, I get my body quite fast covered with shit. My feet and legs of course, but also the rest because, even if I have some tools to make the job, I make some of it with my own hands. It goes faster. Then I bring the cows outside in a near field for the day. From 7 am to 8 am, I clean the pigs. They are much more dirty than the cows and they really stink. There are a lot of them so it takes time.

At 8 am, my Master wakes up and comes to give me my breakfast. It's the usual slave food with a bad taste indeed. During the first month, He had to feed me with the syringe technique, but now I eat all my food by myself form my dog bowl put on the ground in the middle of the farmyard. I was confirmed that this food contains all the needed elements for my health, the perfect quantity of calories, vitamins, muscle growth stimulators, and all the needed preventive medicines to avoid to get diseases that would make me inactive. But I can't really adapt to the disgusting taste of shit and rotten food, I just accept it. At 8.30, I take care of the chickens shit. This can also stink a lot. Then the rabbits. Finally, there's the cleaning of some places in the farms, like the yard, the rubbish storage room and the toilets. Note that there are some other workers in the farm, but normal people and they don't really care of me.

At 10 am, I go to the horses. My Master wants this place very clean, and as he's not always satisfied of my work, I earn some bad points for the evening punishments session. I don't like it and I really try to do my best to make my Master satisfied. What I have to take care of, is not to soil what I have cleaned with my own dirty body. After more than two hours at the horses, there's still a bit less than one hour left to go and check the cows and rest a bit.

Then, at around 1 pm, I have to go to the slave-school. I have to run there and the farm is at about 10 km [6 miles] from the school. It takes me about one hour to go and one hour to come back running. I try not to spend more time so I would be late and I would earn some more bad points. It's tiring for me, but it's a moment where I enjoy to be alone in the fresh air, running naked being something not so bad. Except that I'm still soiled with animals shit from the toes to the head. Besides, as I enter the town, I begin to cross people. It's still humiliating to run like this, with my huge cock-head ring dangling at the tip of my cock, and my PIG-tattoo on the forehead. I never tried to escape from my situation during this running alone. Anyway, where would I go? Everybody in the country understand the need of slaves and would bring me back towards unimaginable punishments, using my cock-ring on which my data are written.

A terrible thing happened once. I crossed my father accompanying my three brothers in the street! There was a particular car race near the town and there were many people from all over the country on this day. I think they recognised me and I saw my oldest brother make wide eyes, have a little smile on his face and make signs to my other brother also older than me. The little one had rather a sad face while looking at me. Then I passed my way looking on the ground trying to contain my humiliation feeling.

At school, I'm the most stinking slave. This is a school where the slaves learn two sorts of things. First, how to behave as a slave, how to be polite, how to accept all the requirements and painful treatments. This is the first hour of courses. During the second hour, there are sex lessons because this is an important aspect of the slaves job. All kind of sexual demands are considered, even sex with animals (how to suck a horse or rim a pig for example). Practical exercises are done sometimes. When we make it between boys, the ones who have to do the exercise with me as disgusted by my dirtiness. I'm sorry for it.

But we are not allowed to cum during these exercises because slaves are only allowed to cum in public at the cumming ceremony. I go there every week, the ceremony replacing the school. At the beginning, I couldn't cum and I have been punished several times for this. But it comes slowly, even with my cock-head ring which doesn't make the exercise easy.

When I come back, I have to be at the farm at 5 pm maximum, so I don't lose my time after school, I just run back home. Then it's time for me to wash. I have a hose of cold water to do it and I have to do it carefully because my Master wants me nice and clean now. If He's not home yet, after a day of work selling products or buying equipment, or after a leisure day, I wait for Him standing up outside at the door of the house. He comes home latest at 6 pm. Then, I take off His coat and follow Him to the sofa where He sits. I remove His boots and socks and I begin to lick His feet. At the beginning, I had got difficulties to do this because my Master has really a strong smell, in particular His feet, and in particular after a day of work. Besides, He doesn't care washing himself very frequently. But He knew how to encourage me explaining me the deserved punishments I could get.

Then He has His dinner. Standing, I watch Him eating His meal and help for bringing the plates, serving the beer or the wine, and taking back the plates. It's a bit the job I had dreamt of in the past. Then, it's my turn to eat. I eat in my dog bowl on the floor of the kitchen. Sometimes, I have the honour of having the rests of my Master's meal from the day before, this is delightful. Often, I am given dog food. I really like it, in comparison of all the rest I usually eat, even if my Master buys the cheap greasy and smelly dog food boxes. But it also happens, especially when my Master brings friends at home and they want to have entertainment, that I have to go to eat with the other animals, especially the pigs. I eat the same food as them in their manger. This is very humiliating and disgusting for me.

But the worst is when my Master comes and tells me proudly with His loud voice that He has done a very nice shit this evening. It happens two, three or four times a month. My Master is proud of His shit when it's well-formed, quite heavy and dense. Then He tells me to go to the toilets, to have a look at it and to bring it to the kitchen. I do as I'm told and finally put the shit in my dog bowl. Then I have to eat it. As it is compact, and even with crunchy pieces, I have to chew it well to swallow it. The first time I did this, I couldn't believe it. But I have been explained with enthusiasm that I was a pigslave that I should like this. Remembering the punishment I got the first time because I had been very reluctant to eat my Master's shit, now I do it faster. Besides, as I learnt to do at the slave school, I finish with a nice smile to my Master and tell him: "Sir, what a good taste had your respectful shit, Sir. Thank you so much for your generosity, Sir."

Then, comes the time of the punishments taking into account the bad points I received during the day. Sometimes, there is no punishment. I try to do my best for not having some because I don't like them. There are various forms of punishment like electrical torture, restraint in terribly aching positions, whipping on any part of my body, or spending the night in a very small wood box filled with ants or spiders. For the punishments to be more painful, my Master sometimes makes me cum, even if it's not recommended by the slave administration, just before the torture sessions. Once, My master rented an automatic fucking machine and had me spend the night with this machine fucking my ass and my mouth all the night long. I nearly became crazy of pain this time.

Finally, my Master and I have sex together. I'm adapting progressively, but it has been tough to get used to my Master's smelly body. He doesn't wash very often I said and sweats a lot. He's got a lot of hair on every part of his body, but I'm now used to have my mouth full of hair that I manage to swallow. The hair on His head are really greasy like you'd never imagine. I have to suck His dirty cock, lick His ass up to inside the anus. Then sometime he fucks me. This is painful but I progressively adapt to it.

When it's time to go to bed, between 9 pm and 1 in the morning, depending on the punishment session duration. There are several possibilities: I can sleep with my Master's which is very comfortable, even if I have to be under the sheets with either my Master cock in my mouth or my tong in my Master's anus, trying to follow the movements of my Master in the bed during the night. Otherwise, I generally spend the night in my cage (1.50 x 1 x 1 m [5 x 3 x 3 ft]) which is set in the very hot boiler room when it's cold outside, or just in the farmyard or in the horses barn. Sometimes, if I have been bad, I may spend the night attached by the neck with a chain among the pigs or the chickens. I generally don't sleep well in these conditions. At 6 in the morning, one of my Master's employees releases me for my morning chores.

Today, I'm 14 year old. Well, that's what i've been told because i've lost the notion of time. I'm brought to the selection office they said. There, I'm led to a room where I'm isolated and they tell me that I know what to do as I already did it last year. There's a machine with a screen which says: "countdown: 30 3; 29 3; 28 3; and option 1 and option 2, blablabla 3;". Suddenly, I have a flash in my mind. Oh yes, I remember. The selection. I have to be careful not to be a slave. But why??? I like my Master, His spicy body smell, His fat hairy belly and chest on which I can sometimes press when He authorises me to sleep with Him, the taste of His hot sperm in my mouth when I get asleep alone in my cage. Ok, He punishes me hard but it's because I deserve it. And I still don't really like when I have to eat His shit or drink His piss. But, if this remains at this reasonable periodicity, I will progress, I'm sure. I do my job of the pigslave that I am as the tattoo on my forehead tells. I nearly begin to be proud of my tattoo. And if my cock-head ring was removed, I would feel completely naked!

Oh yes, but I made a promise not to choose to be slave again. Have I to follow it? Probably yes. Anyway, I could go back to slavery next year if I am released now. I understand now why people said that probably the slaves who had been released often decided to come back to slavery the year after. Normal life is so complicated. And my Master, He would be sad to lose me. We have good time together. I know that He likes to touch my soft skin, my tight ass, to play with my cock forbidding me to cum. And i've never respected someone else more than my Master and I have to be grateful to Him.

10 3; 9 3; 8 3; OK, I have to take the good option. The option that shows that I'm a good boy, clever and respectful. I press on option 1: "I want to remain a slave", a pigslave to my beloved Master.

An hour later, I'm standing in front of a series of doctors who are sit behind a large table. One in the middle begins to speak loudly and with an enthusiastic smile: "Well, pigslave, congratulation, you've been promoted to the pigslave for men level 2. It's really not very often that this happens to a so young slave. But, considering the recommendations of your former Master who doesn't want to keep you for buying a new younger pigslave, and considering the computer recommendations which takes into account many parameters, your promotion has been accepted. In general, it's only from 16 year-old that pigslaves are promoted, so you will be a very young one in comparison to the others. You will be very demanded we're sure. So, you will be sent to a special centre where you will learn all the pleasures of piss and shit groupsex. You will see, there's a lot to learn and very soon you'll be amazed of what you'll be able to do especially concerning shit eating."

Already, I regret my choice. My Master, why did He do this, there must be an error. But maybe this is my appropriate situation in life. Some are scientists, doctors, players, using their personal talent in these functions. The job that fits me the best in life, my personal talent, seems for me to be a pigslave, even if I could find this a bit disappointing. Oh noooo, it looks like I'm gonna eat shit everyday, it's disgusting! Why did you press this button, you stupid slave! At least you would have got a chance. But before I can react, a guard takes me and brings me to the slave transfer area. I'll be soon sent to my new pigslave level 2 life.

#3
Dad Bought a Dogslave

In the ancient times, in the far past, people didn't live as long as nowadays. The majority lived less than 100 years. And the signs of old age appeared quite early. But now, with the progress of medicine and biology, we live much longer and with good physical shape and good health. So, when Mum died at only 55 year-old because of a car accident, it had been very unexpected and sad for all the family. The roads and cars are now very secure but accidents sometimes happen, you'll never be able to prevent it completely. And everyone knows that an event may happen even if its probability is nearly zero. And we are now only men in the family as my parents got only boys: my older 20 year-old brother Sam, my younger 15 year-old brother Alex, and the two last ones, 12 year-old and 10 year-old Tommy and Jimmy. I, Chris, am 18 year old. With Dad, we form now a family with six male members.

It is common that families have a lot of children. It is to compensate the fact that many other people live without any child. Well, not their own children at least, because some may have young slaves with them, slaves who had been selected more or less randomly among the youngsters and represent 10 percent of the population. But in the country, there are parts where the proportion of slaves is higher than in other parts. We live in a 'family part' of the country where there are very few slaves. Often, selected kids as slaves are transferred towards the parts of the country where more slaves are demanded. It is a system that has been set up in order to satisfy the feelings of masochism and of sadism that exist in the human brain, and this system is now understood and accepted by everybody. Such a system is indeed better than a jungle-like system where everyone acts as he wants like a common animal. The human being is also an animal like the others, but the difference is his prehensile finger and his overdevel oped brain that permit him to find, using the experience of history and of the past thinkers, organisations being better than the basic and often unfair organisation of the Nature. We now live in justice and harmony.

(For the slave selection principles, see the other stories: Ponykids race and My first year as a pigslave).

After a sad period during which the memory of Mum was in every mind and we could feel the lack of her presence, Dad proposed us an idea to change our minds. Dad had always good ideas. He said: "And if we bought a dogslave? What do you think, would you agree?"

We didn't expected this one, but all the boys appeared to be interested in this idea, and I was myself quite excited at the idea of having a dogslave. So, one day, he went to the slave market and at the evening he told us that he had a surprise. He told us to come to the garage. There, we saw a small cage, 1 m x 60 cm x 50 cm [3 x 2 x 1½ ft], that Dad had transported in the trunk of the car. Inside the cage, there was a young naked boy which could barely move a finger, with a non-removable big iron collar (5 cm [2 inch] large and 1 cm [½ inch] thick, with four D-rings all around), and a small aluminium plate with some inscriptions, riveted on the right ear.

"It's our new dogslave, kids, it is 15 year-old as you can see on its references written on its ear, and it is a very newly selected slave, few days ago", Dad said. "So, we will have to train it a bit at the beginning", he added.

We took the cage and brought it inside the living room. We were all around the cage, looking at the new acquisition, laughing at that slave's situation and looking forwards to playing with it. Dad's idea was clearly a good idea to bring back happiness in the family. The dogslave seemed to be quite afraid and humiliated too. Even if it couldn't move, we could see that in its eyes. It had a rather ridiculous hair cut, with just a patch of brown soft hair, short at the top of its head, continuing down to its forehead and falling very long down to its eyes, Yorkshire style. In normal life, it probably had long hair, but now, except this patch of hair, the rest of its head was shaved. We would manage to keep this funny hair-cut on it.

"We have to find a name", Dad said.

Several ideas came: doggy, slaveface, snoopy, snout, droopy 3; But as it was really stinking (we wondered where it must have been for stinking so much), we decided to give it the name shitty.

Finally, we opened the cage and let it out. It didn't know what to do but stood up slowly, putting its hands automatically in front of its genitals.

"Put your hands on your head", said Dad roughly.

And shitty executed immediately. We could see now, its tiny cock with a nice patch of hair above it. It had a slim but a bit muscled body, with a nice slightly muscled chest. Its skin was soft and hairless everywhere except above its cock and under its arms. And its ass was nice and tight. It was a pretty boy, some would say it had the perfect boy body at the perfect age. It looked down to its feet then, probably being very humiliated to be exposed like this, naked like all the slaves are.

The life of shitty at home consists first in helping for all the chores in the house such as cleaning, washing, garden maintenance 3; If its work is not good enough, if the bathroom or the kitchen are not clean enough, shitty earns bad points that means that it would have punishments in the evening. It was a good method for its training at the beginning. Also, non-adapted behaviours were worth bad points, such as speaking that shitty understood quite fast it shouldn't do. Shitty has to speak on very rare occasions, only if it is demanded to, for example to thank us after we have given it its punishments, sometimes to tell us what it learnt during the slave school (I' ll tell you about it further) which was very entertaining when we were lacking of subject of conversation during the meals. But in general, shitty communicates in a dog style, barking to mark its gratefulness, panting quickly with the tong outside to show it is happy or looking forward to something (going out or eating or playing games with us).

When it does nothing, shitty is stored in the garden, tied by a 1.50 m [5 ft] long chain between its collar and the wall near the dustbins place. It has also its hands tied behind the back with handcuffs in order to avoid that it would masturbate while being alone. You know young boyslaves. As it cannot piss or shit in the garden, it would be disgusting, we take it out one, two or sometimes three times a day for a walk in the streets. As in our town there are very few slaves, our dogslave has a lot of success for many of the people, especially the youngsters. For these walks, shitty is crawling on all fours (on the feet and hands, not knees and hands) with the ass up, and it is very funny to see its asshole well visible. Our friends go together with us for the walk, playing with the electrical leash that can send discharges to shitty's iron collar if it doesn't behave correctly. Tommy and Jimmy are very fond of this too.

The most attracting moment is when we have shitty shitting and pissing in the gutter of the street. It appears to be terribly humiliating to it to do that, more particularly due to the fact that we nearly never cross any other slave and so, shitty seems to be the only one in this situation. Often, our friends tell us that they would like to have a dogslave like us but that their parents don't agree. I often answer: "why don't you just try to be volunteer at your next slave selection so that you would have a chance to become yourself a dogslave?" Many laugh at this joke, but not everyone, Alex for example who doesn't like it.

At home, if shitty doesn't crawl on all fours for all the house chores, it crawls for all its other functions, especially when we have games with it. Tommy and Jimmy are the most enthusiastic and they often play riding on shitty's back like on a horse. After a while, they were very good at standing on its back without falling, and now they are even able to stand up while shitty is crawling on all fours. They have shitty going fast using their school rulers as riding crops whipping shitty's ass until it is as red as two tomatoes. They invented a race game where they have a circuit and have to make it as fast as possible on shitty's back one after the other, with a chronometer to tell who is the winner. They can play for hours at this game even if shitty is covered with sweat and is panting heavily of tiredness at the end. To motivate shitty to go faster, each one has his tricks. Jimmy, the younger one has fixed drawing pins on his ruler. But Dad doesn't like this because it leaves blood marks on shitty's ass. So, Tommy uses another mean. He has invented a way to tie shitty's balls by a rope in such a way that when he pulls on the rope, it crunches shitty's balls painfully. Although Tommy is disadvantaged in comparison with Jimmy due to his bigger weight, he often manages to win the races using this encouragement mean for the running shitty.

Another occasion for shitty to practise sport, is when it runs to the slave school. Every afternoon, from 2 pm to 4 pm, shitty goes like all the slaves to the slave school to have lessons concerning first the slaves good behaviours, and second the sex activities that every slave has to know. Regarding the behaviours, it's mainly dealing with how to be respectful and to accept all the orders and punishments that the slaves receive. For the sex, they probably learn some various techniques. But, as our town doesn't possess many slave, we are not very well informed of all they learn at this slave school. But although they have sex lessons, they are not authorised to cum. Slaves have the right to cum only once a week during a public ceremony where they have to insert their cock in an automatic milking machine until they cum in front of everybody. So, once a week, instead of running to school, shitty runs there. It's very funny to see its already hard cock when it leaves the house at these occasions.

The school and the cumming ceremony place are at about 5 km [3 miles] from our house and we leave shitty just enough time to run there and then we wait for it at 4.30 otherwise it earns bad points. As everyone in the country understands the utility of slaves, shitty knows that it would be stupid (because it would result without any doubt in very hard punishments) to try to escape or even try to masturbate during these runnings, masturbating being forbidden except by the automatic milking machine weekly. This occasion for running and not crawling, even if it is still in the nude with everybody looking at its dangling cock and balls, is good for its health and body. I'm personally good at sport. I've got a muscular body, hope that I will make a carrier in sport, teacher maybe, and I know the benefits of running often. But personally, I run with sneakers, a short and a T-shirt.

At home, shitty is also helping for serving the breakfast, the lunch and the dinner. We learned it to prepare the breakfast so it wakes up one hour before everybody and when we arrive after a good night, everything is clean and ready. For lunch and dinner, shitty brings the plates and removes them at the end. It stands up behind us and serves us the drinks in our glasses when they are empty. This makes the meals very pleasant. Once, Alex said, in an automatic way or maybe unconsciously, "Thanks" to shitty when it filled his glass. Of course, everyone laughed at Alex during all the rest of the dinner and he was quite embarrassed. Jimmy and Tommy like to play with shitty's cock during the meals. But Dad forbade that because shitty's cock is dirty and it's not good to have the hands dirty while eating. But they play with it all the same as soon as Dad is looking away or is gone for a moment in the kitchen. And when he comes back, shitty's cock is hard and pointing up. Then, Dad hits shitty's head while passing near it and says angrily while sitting: "one bad point for that!", showing with contempt shitty's hardon. Then, I like to look at Jimmy and Tommy silently but proudly laughing while watching at each other.

Shitty eats twice a day. It eats its breakfast and its dinner after us in its dog bowl on the kitchen floor. It just uses its mouth and became skilful at this technique quite quickly indeed. It has a plastic dog bowl with its name written on it. We may give it dog food. We buy cheap tins of dog food, even if these cheap ones are not very good quality, greasy and smelly. But shitty likes them, especially in comparison with the recommended slave food that we give to shitty at least half of the times. It is a very well balanced food especially studied for the slaves, that contains all their needed calories, body development elements, vitamins and also some medicines preventing all the diseases so that our dogslave is always in good shape and healthy. But the smell and the aspect of this food is awful. Once, I just tried to taste a small part of it. Ugh! It was really disgusting, like a mixing of shit and rotten food. I can't understand how shitty is able to eat that stuff! Except that we manage to encourage it to do it of course as it earns bad points if it doesn't eat it, 3; fast enough. After all, it's a slave and we don't care.

Thinking about this makes me remember once, when Dad, Alex, Jimmy and Tommy were away for a week of holidays. Sam and me, we both had some courses then and staid at home, so that we took care of shitty ourselves.

Sam told me one evening: "You know, Chris, I think about something I heard several days ago from some friends of mine. You know that slaves learn to accept a lot of things, even painful or disgusting things. Well some say that, at a certain level of experience, they learn at that slave school to eat shit."

"No, you' re joking", I answered, "there are limits for their skills."

But Sam insisted: "I promise you, that's the truth. And I suggest you that we try to make shitty eat some of our shit. Wouldn't it be funny? Wouldn't it be well adapted to its name?"

I thought about this strange idea, and felt quite excited in fact to try this.

Sam said: "If shitty has already had some lessons of shit eating, it will be easy for it, and if it hasn't, well, it will be in advance in comparison to its school m ates. Isn't it nice from us?"

"OK, let's do it!"

We took shitty's dog bowl and went to the toilets. It was after dinner and we both had to go there. Sam went first. When he went out, shitty's bowl was on the toilet shutting plate with a turd of shit in it. There was not much. Sam said that he couldn't do more and so, he told me to go to add some stuff. And I could add much more, one very big turd and two small balls of shit. Through the toilets door, Sam told me to add a bit of piss, what I did. And we put the bowl on the kitchen floor at the usual place. The smell was terrible. Hopefully, it would have gone away when Dad would come back in few days. We went to release shitty which was waiting outside, tied near the dustbins, and told it that it was time for dinner. It crawled to the kitchen. What a fun we had when we saw it realise what was in its bowl. With the tong out, it panted heavily looking alternatively around the kitchen looking for some usual food, and at our smiling faces with in its eyes some marks of interrogation and of fear.

"Go on," we said, "it's dinner time. We didn't buy your food for once, we manage to get it by ourselves, cheap. We can't find cheaper actually. Come on! We prepared it ourselves. Go on while it's still warm."

As shitty understood the situation, it became very pale, approached slowly its head above its bowl, but then remained paralysed for a while.

"OK, shitty, if you've not finished your dinner in 15 minutes, we give you five bad points per additional minute", Sam said.

What a show! Looking at shitty slowly eating our shit, with tremendous efforts each time it took a piece in its mouth, chewing as little as it could. We were seated on our chairs, resting on the kitchen table and looking down to the poor shitty living a new experience.

"You know", Sam told me, "I'm sure there must be much more to do with slaves than only shit eating. I'll have to get information about these things. I'm sure that there will be a lot more fun to come."

After 15 minutes, only a bit more than half of our shit had been eaten. We had to wait 23 minutes until the dog bowl would be empty. Looking at its eyes, you could see that shitty had reached a new level of humiliation.

"Well, shitty", I said, "eight minutes more than what you had to do. Not very good. You've earned 40 bad points, that's four days with punishments if I'm right."

But Sam said: "Why couldn't we make it in only two days, but with double punishment each day?"

After five seconds of refection I said "OK!!!"

During the evenings, after its dinner, there are shitty's punishment sessions. Any of us in the family, from Dad to Jimmy, can administrate it. Depending on the mood of each of us at this time, we always manage to find someone to make it. The duration and intensity of the punishment depends on the number of bad points. After that, shitty can go to sleep. Sometimes it is at 9 pm because it didn't earn any bad point. But some other times, it may go to sleep at 1 or 2 in the morning.

For the two double punishment sessions, we made the following things. The first evening, we began with traditional electrodes inserted in shitty's nostrils, ass and piss-slit. Shitty's arms were tied to two corners of a 1 x 1 m [3 x 3 ft.] table and its legs were up at 90°, spread and tied by ropes from the ceiling. With about a discharge every 30 seconds, we served a double portion, in duration and in voltage, we're not avaricious. We spent one hour at this. Then, we took the sweaty shitty's body to the whipping stand, where it was tied spread eagle and received lashes and paddling not only on the back and on the ass but also on the balls and on the cock-head. In fact, Sam and me like to do this, listening to the screams, the moaning and the groaning of shitty with its so wonderful 15 year-old voice, a so special and rare voice boys have at this age. Finally, shitty spent the rest of the night, about 10 hours, in the small cage where it was stored when it arrived here for the first time, the cage being put in the garden near the red ants nest we discovered once. During all the night, shitty had still some of our shit in its mouth, sticked between the teeth.

The second evening, we began with a hot wax session, especially on the cock-head, and some tits twisting, which was the aperitif. Then shitty was tied with the hands and the feet altogether behind the back and suspended by one rope from the ceiling in the basement. We added a rope between the back D-ring of shitty's collar and its big toes so that it had to raise its head or had difficulties to breathe. We finally added an automatic balls crunching device that we found in a market during the afternoon. The device was fixed to the balls and was smashing them continuously. We let shitty in this not so comfortable position for about three hours while we went to play video games and then went for a tennis playing near the house.

When we came back, we were covered with sweat. Shitty too. Sam took out his sweaty cock and had it sucked by shitty which mouth was exactly at the good height. I was not really attracted by this and let Sam do it alone. When shitty had swallowed Sam's cum, it was released. Before letting shit ty go to sleep, we had it thank us for these punishments. At the slave school, it learnt how to do it quite respectfully and sincerely. So shitty told us, with its nice 15 year-old boy voice in mutation:

"Sirs, thanks so much for the punishment You offered me. I recognise that I have been very bad towards You and disrespectful towards Your Shit, and I deserved the punishment I've just received 3;"

Finally, Sam and me, stretching in the sofa and drinking fresh sodas with our legs lying on the living room low table, made shitty lick our sweaty (from our tennis play) and stinking feet during one hour for it to show its gratefulness. I think shitty will remember this punishment all its life and so, it had the privilege to learn something with us.

When Dad, Alex, Jimmy and Tommy came back, shitty was so happy! It was turning around, crawling everywhere, panting heavily with its tong out and a smile on its face, licking Dads shoes, just like a real dog meeting its owner after a long period. Shitty likes Dad very much, but here it was really happy that Dad was back home, it was clear. Besides, two or three times a week, shitty sleeps with Dad in its bed. It is a privilege and otherwise, it sleeps in its kennel in the basement where the temperature is quite hot so that it's not getting cold. Its kennel is 1.50 m long, 90 cm large and 90 cm high [5 x 3 x 3 ft]. It's a wood kennel with a grid door in front. We can manage to program the opening of the door at the time we want, i.e. one hour before we wake up. Just before the grid door unlocks in the morning, there is a spray of cold water automatically sent inside the kennel. It has the double function of waking shitty and cleaning it. Then, an automatic drying cycle evacuates the water from its body. So everything is automatic and we can leave shitty alone until we wake up. Just for one thing: in order to avoid shitty to masturbate while it is alone in its kennel, we put a leather condom around its cock, that is locked by a system going around its balls. So, if shitty cums, we can see it in the morning when we remove the condom. Shitty never cummed without authorisation, probably imagining the punishments for that. Sometimes, we leave the leather condom on shitty during the day. It gives it a nice doggy style as it keeps the cock parallel with the belly while shitty crawls on all fours. But finally, to let it piss at least once in a day, we have to remove it.

If shitty sleeps in Dad's bed, it doesn't need the shower spray in the morning because it is already clean. Indeed, Dad wants it clean at these occasions, of course. Often, Dad washes shitty himself in the bathroom. Shitty must like it a lot, I'm sure. I don't know what exactly happens in Dad's bed then, but it's clear that they have sex together. In fact, when Sam was 15 year-old and I was 13 year old, Dad already had sex with us. It was not a problem at all, especially for Mum who was not jealous at all for this. I know that in ancient times, sex between adults and kids was condemned due to psychological problems occurring to the kids because of the influence of strange superstitious prejudices and social conventions about this acts. But now, it isn't a problem at all. Sam had liked these relation but I had not been very keen on sucking Dad's cock. So, he didn't insist with me. The relations between Dad and Sam continued until Sam was 17 year old. Now, concerning sex, I'm rather looking for girlfriends while my brother Sam has a quite filled sexual life with boyfriends and girlfriends. So, it is clear that Dad has certainly a lot of fun with shitty in his bed during the night. In the morning, he then sets the clock earlier to expel shitty in time. He tells us that he likes very much waking one hour earlier and listening to shitty preparing the breakfast while he stretches slowly in his bed.

Really, we all liked to have shitty at home, and I'm sure that shitty has adapted very well to its life. To illustrate this happiness to live together, I remember the Xmas day. Nowadays, this day is purely the occasion to give presents to each other, you know. Well, at this first Xmas with shitty, we didn't only make presents to each of us, but we also made one to shitty. We had thought a lot before finding something. We looked for a present that would have been at the same time entertaining and useful. Well, we finally found a very nice present for shitty. When we announced it to shitty at the Xmas day, that it would have also a present, it had had very interrogative eyes looking at the box we showed to it. Then, we opened the box, and inside there was a very nice series of twelve butt-plugs, with the accessories. There were various sizes, short and long, thin or large, cock-shaped, cylindrical, rough or smooth 3; There was also the possibility to adapt a dog-tail to some of them. Finally, there were leather systems that permitted to use them not only as butt-plugs but also as gags. It was really a nice present. We explained to shitty that this would permit to have its anus make some exercises and be more and more able to make extensions. Dad was happy of this useful aspect. The entertaining aspect concerned the possibility to have shitty wearing a dog-tail, and also to play altogether with the butt-plugs, having them alternatively put in shitty 's mouth, then in its ass, then in its mouth again, and so on for hours. Alex was already playing with the plugs. He happily acted the fool, putting some plugs (still clean of course) in his own mouth. As shitty hadn't any present for us in return, we told it that we would be happy if it wore a dog-tail during all the next week, what it did and we were quits. Shitty had a lot of success in the street on this week. It only removed its dog tail to shit. We removed it pulling on the tail. Not knowing what to do with it while shitty was making its shit, we just stored it in its m

What good memories. I really hope that shitty will stay with us for a long time. With its experience, it may be volunteer to continue at its next selection I think. Four months have passed since Xmas. In the meantime, an event happened: Alex became a slave at his 16 year-old selection. We are all wondering if he has not been volunteer. Probably yes, especially knowing him, but maybe not as there are still some probabilities (about 1 to 2 percent chance) at the 16 year-old selection to be selected even if you're not volunteer. Maybe he has really not been lucky. But this is the system which works well, everyone now understands this. This is in harmony with the inherent human brain functioning. Alex, who now lives naked somewhere in the country, will adapt. Look at shitty.

In fact, today it's my 19 year-old selection. But I'm not really afraid of the result. I've already passed several selections since I am 13 year-old without being selected, and at 19 year old, I have between 0 and 5 chances out of 1000 to be selected. It depends a bit on the number of volunteers that decide to take the slave option. It may happen that there is no volunteer and then the chance to become a slave increases a bit but in general the probability is near zero. Of course, if you are anyway selected at 19 year old, it's tough because your chance to get out of slavery is lower and lower (from 6 to 1 percent of slaves are getting free from the 20 year-old to the 25 year-old selections, after there's no more selection). But that's the system, which permits the country to have the 10 percent slaves in the population, which is the good number. Well, let's go now. I enter the isolated room with the computer, as usual. I press option 1: "I want to be selected randomly" and not option 2: "I want to be a slave". And I wait that the 30 seconds countdown finishes.

Then the computer screen tells:

"You have been selected as a slave, please take the exit and go to the left lane. Thank you."

"Oh noooo!!!! shit!! Oh shit and shit 3;" I'm barely able to think. My brain doesn't work well any more. Before being afraid, I first don't believe what I've seen. But it's on the screen, it's there. And my throat is now completely dry.

Five minutes later, I'm tied and exposed to everybody, stark naked. I still understand and at least believe in the system that put me in this position, but this doesn't prevent me from being completely humiliated, I feel my head blushing like it would explode.

Two weeks later, as my sportsman muscular body had been considered, I've become a slave for the outside manual chores that need particular efforts. It can go from making the road cleanings for what machines can't do, to manual field works for the agriculture, or forest maintenance 3; I have non-removable 30 cm [1 ft] long chains connected between a non-removable iron collar and non-removable iron rings around my wrists. And I have the same way a 40 cm [16 inch] long heavy chain between my ankles. After seven hours of non-stop working, we have the lessons of the slave school. As we are never at the same place, all the organisation is itinerant. I hope we won't go to work in my town, to be seen naked like this, all my former friends laughing at me and probably thinking that I've been volunteer considering the low chance I had to be selected. As there are only male guards in this itinerant organisation, we have sex sessions with them after the school. The guards are tough men, not the clever and subtle type of guys. Everyday, I suck sweaty cocks, I'm fucked several times and I have to mouth kiss sweating guards with stinking breaths. It can be endless.

But that's not the worst. During these two weeks, I already had an evening when they brought us at a "Shit Eating Party". It was in a Club in an isolated town. The shit eating concerns of course the slaves. They have us locked in small cages in which we cannot move and just the head goes outside the cage. And they just shit in our mouth, and then force the shit into our throat and we have to chew it fast to swallow it. I remembered shitty then. At least, my brother and me gave him some time to eat the shit. We let him do at his speed. Oh damn, the slave system may be good, but how tough is the slave life!

It's now several months I'm a slave. I don't know really how long. I'm fed up with the evening punishments. Really, I have to do my best to avoid them. I make a lot of efforts all the day, but I see that I still fuck up sometimes. I must improve my performances, I must be more careful. Or better! I have to change my mind to be a real slave, not only a boy that became a slave. I'm working on it, to get a real slave mind, I know I can reach this. I know I can do better, to be less reluctant to suck the guards dirty cocks and to eat their respectable shit some times to times, to become a performing slave that feels honoured to drink some piss in order to rinse my mouth after having eaten some dog shit. But I have to concentrate on my work. Today, we clean old drainpipes and have to crawl inside them in a terribly stinking atmosphere. Let's think that tomorrow, I have my weekly cumming. Oh no! Damn, stop thinking about that! My cock is already hard just thinking about it. I have to take care, or I'll have bad points if I don't control myself better. I still have to make so many improvements to become a real good slave. I hope one day i'll be one.

After "Ponykids race" and "My first year as a pigslave", end of the trilogy. We'll see a bit later for something else, if inspiration comes.

The End?

Prologue

He lowers his lithe body into the chair. Insticntively he brushes his hair out of his face. His long brown hair is cut in a mohican. Shaved to the skin except for a one and a half inch strip down the middle of his head that hadn't been cut in well over a year. He remembers the walk to the selection center with the entire family. Everybody was real nice, they even stopped for ice cream on the way. Of course he had to eat his out of a bowl on the floor much to the amusement of the other customers. It is his fourteenth birthday and a selection day. His second one.

The computer Screen comes to life and Please enter your ID card for processing flashes before his eyes. The toy takes the card that Daddy had given him and feeds it to the machine. The thoughts race thru the toy's head as the data zipps thru the processor. He knows he has a choice to make and he even understands the choices. What he can't figure out is what he is going to do with that choice. Half the problem is slaves are not used to making choices. Truthfully the only choice a slave has is between obedience and punishment anything else is the whim of his masters.

Daddy made it clear that this was a special choice and only the toy could make it. He made sure that the toy understood what the choices were and how the process worked, but no one in the family would tell him what choice to make. Not even a hint. In fact last night at his birthday party each boy made it clear that they would be happy whether he picked one or two and the only thing they wanted him to think about is what would make him happy. That was their 'big' gift to him. The other half of the problem is he can't figure out what will make him happy.

You are currently a slave.

As he read the word slave his right hand raised to his neck and unconcsiously fondled his collar. It was the first time he had worn it out. He had gotten it last night at his party. The card had just said 'from the family' and after he opened it he just stared at it and wept. It was beautifull. Even people in the ice cream parlor said so. It was fur lined and leather. Set in the leather were 13 amethysts. Every one knew the toy's favorite color was purple. At the end of the 13 amethysts was one garnet. Daddy smiled as he put it on him. In the bottom of the box were 11 more amethysts. Daddy said if he kept this collar he could add another amethyst on his birthday or Daddy would add another red one. It was then that the choice became clear to the toy. The 13 amethysts were his first 13 years of freedom while the garnet was the past year he had spent with daddy and the boys. And the only one who can decide what color next years birthday stone will be is him. A slave. A toy.

Please press button one to remain a slave and button two to enter the lottery for a chance at freedom. You have 30 seconds to make your choice. If you fail to make a choice within the time alloted it will be assumed that your wish is to remain a slave.

The toy's hand dropped below the collar to the two tags which hung from it. One was white gold and had an amethyst. It said 'Andy', that's what the toy had been called before he had been owned by Daddy. The other one was yellow gold and had a garnet. It said Fagboy. He was called a lot of things and everybody had different pet names for him. but Fagboy was his official name, the one the family had given him.

Chapter 1

Daddy explained the project to me and how it would be carried out. I know that you will assist me and evaluate it as we go along. Daddy says I can write anything I want the only requirements are that I be truthful and I write about the past year and about being a slave. I understand that on the day after my selection ownership of this paper will be given to Daddy which is only fair since it is the product of work I did while he owned me. Acttually he owns it even as he owns me but he's choosing not to read it till after it's done. I guess he feels it will be easier for me to be honest if I don't have to worry bout repercussions. As in most things he's right. I know you'll be evaluating this on the basis of both content and form and that it will count as half my grade for the year.

As with most slaves my story begins on my birthday, selection day. You know me now as Fagboy but before that my name was Andy. I know I had a surname I just don't remember what it was. If I need to know it Daddy will tell me I'm sure. Many of my memories before I met Daddy are jumbled and vague. that's only natural. I guess our mind seals off parts of our past in order to help us cope with the present. Maybe thats why so many slaves can't see a different future.

Before selection I guess I was a normal kid. I liked sports and music and hanging with my buds. I was good looking, I know this because at school I remember some girl or another would always be hangin around trying to get me to carry their books or something. I think I was good at sports at least at wrestling. but I kind of also remember being good at anything athletic, whether it was organized sport or just running around thru the woods ith my freinds.

My family was a normal family even if my family life was a little odd. Some of this is so hard tro recall. I was the youngest of eight but because I was the only child of my dad's second wife there was over a twelve year gap between me and my youngest half brother. Danny had gone through his last selection two months before I went thru my first. I don't remember many specifics about my half brothers except they were nice to me and took me places when they were in town.

My Father was more of the same. when he wasn't traveling for work he was busy with work. And when he wasn't busy with work he was distracted by work. I'm sure he loved me, I mean that's what fathers do. From the time my mom died I was pretty much raised by a series of nannys and houehold help overseen by my father.

It's hard to remember them but I tell you theres one thing I'll never forget. my first Selection Day. The images are burned into my brain. We had my birthday party the night before. My father took us all to a fancy restaurant. I got all kinds of gifts from my half brothers. Gifts I never got to use. Everyone made jokes about selection day. When father got the check he quipped "Maybe I should have waited till tommorow night, I might have saved quite a bit of scratch." I know they were just kidding, trying to put me at ease but sometimes late at night I wonder if they remember those little jokes. I know I do.

I hardly slept at all that night. It was like I couldn't controll my brain. I'd get it all clear and before I could concentrate on falling asleep theyd start to slip back in. First one at a time then like cockroaches scurrying from the light in a slum kitchen. I swear that everything I ever learned, heard or saw of slavery and the selection process went thru my brain at some point that night. I catalogged every type of slave I had ever heard about. Service slaves, worker slaves, miner slaves, dog slaves, pig slaves, pony slaves. I thought a lot about the pony slaves.

My father took to me to the ponykid races when I was ten. I think I had fun and I rember cashing winning tickets. I also rember being kind of disturbed by it. The next time he asked me if I wanted to go I said no. He went without me. I thought about how it ould feel to pull the cart. What it would be like to be whipped. What it would be like to lose and be punished. What it would be like to win and be cheered and rewarded. I wondered what my father would do if I became a pony slave. How would he feel? I wondered if he would bet on me.

I watched the sunrise from my bed. I laid there in my bed and watched the sky go from black to grey. I knew I had to get some sleep. what if I was to tired to think straight. I masturbated soley because I wanted to for the last time that night. I know this might sound weird but I still remember my fantasy. I pictured my self in the winner's circle at Augustus Park. a hundred thousand people screaming and cheering and throwing flowers. I was being done from behind by my driver as he kissed my neck. I had just won the Tripple Tiara Then the fingers of dawn started to spread and reach up from the horizon. Shadows started to appear. I cried myself to sleep.

This is so hard Sir, remembering and writing this. I'm trying not to picture you reading this. I am so thankful I don't have to be there when you do.

I woke up the next morning. I was in a daze. It was a tradition that on selection day you got whatever you want for breakfast. Three of my half brothers had stayed over. we had eggs, bacon, scrapple, grits and waffles with fruit and three types of syrup. The mood at breakfast had all the warmth of a condemned man's last meal but I was to tired to care. I ate like there was no tommorow. I'm glad I did because there wasn't.

When it was time to go my father explained that something had come up at work and Danny was going to drive me. I was shocked. I was gonna protest but my father cut me off. "It's no big deal son. You'll be home by noon and we'll be laughing when you tell me all about it at dinner." One look into his eyes and I knew he didn't believe it. "Now go son, be a man, do your duty." Those were the last words my father ever said to me.

I want you to know I'm crying as I write this. I'm crying so hard I can hardly focus on the screen. Maybe this isn't a good ideal. Maybe I should talk to you in the morning. Maybe I should talk to Daddy.

The car ride to the selection center was somber. A few times Danny tried to start a conversation. I gave him one word answers till he stopped trying. I wasn't really in the mood to talk. He pulled up to the front of the building. I started to open the door. Danny held my arm.

"Andy, I never let Dad stay 3; uhm 3; just in case well you know. I think he always appreciated that. It's your call though if you want me to stay I will."

I thought about it and thanked him. "I'll be fine Danny, you go on. I'll call you when I need a ride home," I mumbled.

"OK, you do that" and that was the last thing he ever said to me.

But before I could get out of the car he leaned over and kissed me on the forehead. I bawled like a baby as I watched him pull away.

After I pulled myself together I entered the center. I had gotten there a half hour earlier than I had to. The place was slowly but steadilly starting to fill up. As I wandered around I ran into a couple of kids I knew from school. I remember not liking one of them, but I think the other one was ok. We were freindly I think. Just not friends.

We stood there waiting trying to impress each other with half hearted bravado. We tried to convince each other we weren't scared. Or maybe we were trying to convince ourselves. I'm not sure. The first thing we asked each other was if we were going to volunteer and of course all three of us answered no. "Hell no," if I remember correctly. The only other thing I remember about it is this exchange. The kid that was ok turned to the other one and said "I could picture you on a work crew sucking cock on the side of the road like we saw last fall."

"Fuck you," the other one replied. Then he gestured with his thumb at me, "with his legs though I wouldn't be surprised to see him getting it up the ass at a pony race. This sent them both into spasms of laughter. I could feel the red rising in my face.

I stuttered and stammered and blurted out "Fuck you both, you'll probably both end up as pig slaves competing in a shit eating contest at a biker bar on chilli night." That kind of ended the conversation and it wasn't long before I wandered away to find where I was supposed to be. It was getting close to time.

As luck would have it I was first in line. I couldnt see where in the line the other two ended up. I tried to ignore everything. The crowd. The kids. Even why I was there. I just tried to find some kind of inner peace.

It as time and the attendant opened the door.

I entered the booth alone. I was thinking of my father and half brothers, my friends at school. I thought of abstract ideas like freedom and slavery.

I sat in the chair in front of the computer. Instinctively I brushed my longish hair out of my face and looked at the screen.

The computer Screen came to life and Please enter your ID card for processing flashed before my eyes. I entered the ID card that I had received in the mail. I knew exactly what I had to do.

You are currently a free boy.

I silently prayed that I'd be able to say the same thing tomorrow.

Please press button one to volunteer to become a slave and button two to be randomly selected. You have 30 seconds to make your choice. If you fail to make a choice within the time alloted it will be assumed that your wish is to become a slave.

Without hesitation I pressed button two. I looked at the screen 25 seconds remaining. It seemed to take forever. I just kept whispering freedom over and over like a mantra.

Then the screen went blank. When it came back to life it said:

You have been selected as a slave please enter the left hand lane as you exit the booth.

I just sat there and read it over and over. I could feel the tears well up then run freely. I felt like I would puke at any moment. I forced myself up and away from the computer. I didn't want to be one of those boys you heard about who had to be dragged out of the booth. I wanted to 'be a man'. I wanted 'to do my duty'. I could barely comprehend what was happening but as my laast act of dignity I exited the booth and stepped into the left hand lane.

Mr. Brian just came in and told me that Daddy said I could quit working for tonight, I think I will. I'm supposed to spend fifteen minutes proofreading. I think though Daddy will understand if I proofread it tomorrow. Tonight I'm just gonna sit here and cry before I have to go do my night chores.