Sid G

Kidnapped

I am hungry and cold and wet and sore and very, very frightened. They've taken away my clothes and cut off my hair. I am sitting on the concrete floor in this big shed with lots of other boys. The boy next to me is crying. I'm not… well not as much as he is. There are four men carrying whips walking up and down among us and now some more grownups are coming into the shed. I want to go home to my Mum. If some one would tell me what I did wrong then I'd say I was sorry and perhaps I could go home. I must have done some thing very bad but I don't know what it was. I know Mum will be angry because of my clothes but I just want to go home.

Yesterday started all right. I was 11 years and 92 days old and I was starting the first day of the first term of my last year at St Anselm's County Primary School. I was quite looking forward to the new term. We would play Rugby football and I had been on the first team last year, so was sure to be in it now when I was a year stronger and bigger.

Mr. Parsons the Headmaster was at the door greeting each of us as we went in. He did this at the beginning of each school year. We all liked him. He was usually very kind. I don't know what made him change yesterday. I waited in line with the other children who had just got off the school bus. He said "Hello" to each child as they passed him and more often than not made some sort of joke.

When he came to me he just said, "you stand over there", pointing to a place just outside the school door. He didn't sound friendly and he didn't even call me by my name and that was most unusual for him. When all the other children had gone into school for assembly he told me to turn out my pockets. He put everything I had including my dinner money and the pound my Mum had given me to buy sweets in a plastic bag. He took away my satchel as well. Then he said to me "stay there and don't move" and went into the school himself.

The playground was square, bounded on three sides by the school buildings. The fourth side was divided from a busy road and pavement by a set of tall railings. People walking by could see me standing there by myself and quite a few stopped and pointed at me and shook their heads or laughed. I realized I must have done something really seriously wrong but I didn't know what. When break time came one of the first boys out into the playground was Tommy. He was until yesterday my best friend. I called out to him if he knew why I was in trouble.

He walked over to where I was standing.

"Don't talk to me like that you shitty pig," he said and kicked me on the shins.

I jumped on him and tried to hit him. He called out and the next thing I knew Mr. Parsons had his hand twisted in my shirt collar shaking me. I could tell he was very angry.

"Sir please Sir," I said. "Tommy kicked me and called me a "shitty pig"."

Mr. Parsons slapped me across my face with his free hand. I tasted blood in my mouth. "What the hell do you think your doing you little tyke," he shouted at me furiously. "I teach you hit one of my pupils."

Still holding me by my shirt collar with one hand he caught hold of the waste band of my trousers with the other and yanked them down over my hips. I heard the material rip and I thought Mum will be angry about that. Then he caught hold of my underpants and yanked them down as well.

All the children were out in the yard now and they gathered round shouting and yelling and pointing at me, chanting, "shitty pig is going to have his bottom whipped, shitty pig is going to have his bottom whipped." Some of the people passing by on the pavement the other side of the playground railings stopped to watch the fun.

"Tommy," Mr. Parsons said, "Go to my study and fetch the strap you will find hanging from the hook on the back of the door and bring it here."

I stood there feeling the cool air round my bare bottom the children jeering and laughing, the grown ups on the pavement watching the fun. I began to cry from shame and rage.

I couldn't understand what was happening. Tommy had kicked me and called me a nasty name and I was going to be beaten. It just wasn't fair.

Tommy came back with the strap. I had never seen it before. Mr. Parsons had never beaten any of us children up to then.

"Thank you Tommy," Mr. Parsons said taking the strap from him. "Now children, you know that I don't believe in beating you and I never will. I think beating a child is cruel and degrading but with something like this," and he shook me again, "it's the only thing that will work."

With that he brought his right arm right back over his shoulder and brought the strap snaking down around my bare rump. The pain drove the breath out of my body. It was the worst pain I had ever felt. I swore to myself I would not cry. It was shameful enough to be beaten on my bare bum in front of my school mates and the audience of grown ups on the pavement outside the school. I was not going to disgrace myself by crying. The strap slashed down across me once again and again and again. I could hold back no longer. I howled and screamed as Mr. Perkins flogged me.

"Oh Sir … Please Sir … No Sir… Please Sir… Mum Mummy Please."

"I'll teach you to disobey me… I'll teach you to hit one of my boys… " Mr. Perkins roared as he plied the strap.

At last it was over. He released me and I fell to the ground at his feet.

"Stand up," he commanded prodding me in the stomach with his foot.

Right take your shoes and socks off and you trousers and underpants. Come on quick right off now. Good give them to me."

"Now stand there with your hands on your head and don't move an inch unless you want another leathering." Mr. Parsons turned and walked back into the school leaving me sobbing in the playground surrounded by the jeering children.

Having to put my hands on my head had lifted my shirt up my body. Fortunately Mum had bought me new clothes for the start of school and she always bought them a bit larger than I needed so that I would grow into them. I took comfort from the fact that even with my hands on my head the shirttail just covered my crotch.

One of the girls, Melanie who was much the same age as myself stepped forward, She lifted up the front of my shirt.

"Look at his little willy everybody," she shouted. "Shitty pig's got a little willy."

The children took up the chant and the adults on the pavement all laughed. Tommy danced up to me and kicked me hard once again on the shins breaking the skin. Blood trickled down my legs.

On and on it went. Until at last the school bell rang and I was left alone. I knew that my torment would start all over again in an hour and a half when the lunch break began.

I realized that I needed to go for a pee. For a time I struggled against it but the need became more urgent. I looked around. I could not go in the yard in full view of the people passing on the pavement. Mr. Perkins had told me to stay where I was but he could not expect me to go in the yard. I was sure it would be all right if I just quickly nipped into the school building and used the toilets. Any way everybody would be in class. Nobody would see me I was sure and if they did they couldn't object.

I had almost got to the boy's toilet when the door of one of the classrooms opened and Mrs. Williams stepped into the corridor.

That was all right I though. I always got on well with her. She gave me really good marks for my English essays.

"Hello Mrs. Williams," I said ingratiatingly. "I've just come inside to use the toilet."

She grabbed me by the ear and twisting it painfully dragged me across to the door of the Head Masters study.

"You won't believe this," she said pushing me into the room before "Look what I found in the corridor."

"Please Sir, Please Sir, I only came in to use the toilet," I whined. Surely I was allowed to do that.

Mr. Perkins with a face like thunder got up from the chair behind his desk. He opened a drawer in it and took out a length of cord. Then he walked slowly across to me.

I shrank away from him. Very deliberately he took the strap from its hook. He caught hold of my arm squeezing so tightly that it hurt.

"Thank you Miss Williams," he said grimly. "I see I was too lenient with the brat last time. I will not make the same mistake again."

He dragged me back into the schoolyard.

"Please, please let me go to the toilet first Sir. Please Sir," I pleaded desperately. "Please Sir I'm going to wee myself Sir if I'm not allowed to go Sir."

He dragged me across to the railings and taking the cord from his pocket looped it over the top bar and tied my wrists together so high above my head that my body was drawn quite taught. He pulled my shirt up and tucked it round my shoulders leaving my bottom bare. Yet again people passing by paused to watch.

I heard him take a step back and a second later the hiss of the strap as he brought it slashing down across my already bruised buttocks. He paused and my shame was completed as the dam broke and pool of water formed at my feet. Some of the watching adults laughed, a woman said, "Disgusting creatures aren't they?" and went on her way. Mr. Perkins continued to thrash me as I howled and capered under the impact of the lash. At last he was finished, giving me a final cut he turned and walked away.

I saw our next door neighbor Mrs. Rogers walking past with her little girl Angela who was too small to go to school. I thought if I asked Mrs. Rogers would sure tell my Mum what was happening to me and she would come and rescue me.

"Mrs. Rogers," I called. "Please it's me David. Please help me. Please… ."

She looked at me and hurried on dragging little Angela with her.

"Why's David tied up like that?" I heard Angela ask.

"He's one of those nasty little boys we were told about," Mrs. Williams replied.

"Look Mummy he's standing in a pool of water. Why is he standing in a pool Mummy?"

"Because he 's filthy just like they say dear," and the two of them disappeared down the street.

I knew it would not be long before the lunch break released the other children into the yard to continue tormenting me. I tried to pull my wrists free from the cord that bound them. I threw my body about as I fought to release them. If only I could get free I would run home to my Mum and somehow she would put every thing right.

Then the school bell rang and there was a crash as the door to the yard swung open and the children came rushing out. There was the sound of running footsteps and then Tommy's voice behind me.

"Look he's got a sore bum."

He delivered a stinging slap with his open hand on my raw bottom and I cried out.

"Punch bag," another boy said and fists slammed into me.

"I can't see his prick," a girl's voice said.

"People outside can," said another.

"I know who would like shitty pig," Tommy shouted.

"Who?"

"Sammy."

"Yes, let's get Sammy," a chorus of voices went up.

"Please don't, please," I whimpered. Sammy was fat rather dirty middle-aged man who us boys were all told to keep away from and who if he had a chance would try to touch our bottoms. He was rather smelly and dribbled.

"Shut up. Your not allowed to talk," someone said cuffing me on the back of the head knocking me forward so that I bruised my face on the railings.

"I'll get Sammy," Tommy said. "I know where he'll be. He's always hanging about outside the sweet shop at this time of day."

I heard him run off. The children stood round me giggling, occasionally kicking the back of my legs. Then one of the girls suggested they should get the scissors from the classroom and cut of my shirt… "so as to help Sammy." There was great deal more laughter while this was done. I began to cry. I couldn't help it.

I saw Tommy come trotting up the street towards the school with Sammy hurrying after him.

Sammy came to a stop on the pavement within a few feet of me. There seemed to be more saliva dribbling from his mouth than usual. He smelt horrible.

"Go away. Go away. Please go away," I screamed.

There was a heavy footfall behind me.

"Stop that stupid noise this instant," Mr. Parsons shouted as he brought the strap slashing down across me bare shoulders.

"Sir. Please Sir. It's Sammy Sir. Please make him go away Sir," I wailed.

"Stop (crack) making (crack) that (crack) din (Crack) now (crack)." Every word accompanied by a blow from the strap.

"Now Sammy, I can't have you about here while the children are out in the yard. You go and wait on the other side of the road until break is over. All right?"

Sammy grinned and shambled away. He crossed the road and stood on the pavement immediately opposite me grinning to himself.

The school bell signaled the end of the lunch break and I was left alone in the yard. I watched Sammy make his way slowly back across the road towards me. I strained back as far away from him as I could. He reached though the railings and caught hold of one of my buttocks his fingers in the crack of my bottom. He pulled me towards him. His other hand played my balls and prick. One or two people stopped to watch. I closed my eyes trying to blot him out of my consciousness. His stench filled my nostrils. One of his fingers found my hole and began to gently massage its lips. Despite myself I felt my excitement rise. I heard a voice say "look he's enjoying it," and another "disgusting aren't they."

My prick hardened and then I surged. Sammy giggled and wiped his hand clean on my chest.

I do not know how much longer I stood there. I was too miserable and ashamed to care. Eventually there was movement behind me.

"I can see this one has given you some trouble," a man's voice I did not recognize said behind me.

"Stupid brat," Mr. Parsons said. "You would have thought he would have had the sense to do as he was told."

"Well we'll take him off your hands now."

My wrists were untied and I was pulled away from the railings. The man holding me was dressed in uniform and was carrying a short whip in his free hand. Behind him stood a line of eight boys of my age or slightly older. Most were naked but two still wore their shirts but nothing else. They looked frightened and miserable. All had clearly from the marks on their bodies had felt the lash. The boys had metal rings fastened about their necks and were linked together by short lengths of chain that ran from collar to collar. Another man in uniform also holding a whip stood guard by the boys. I was hustled over to him. A collar snapped around my neck and made to take my place at the end of the column.

"All right move," the man shouted.

A whip cracked. One of the boys squealed. We trotted out of the yard.

"Get off the pavement," one of the men shouted and gave the leading boy a sharp shove. The boy staggered, lost his balance and stumbled out in front of a car. There was a dull thud. I found myself dragged to my knees by the chain joining me by the boy in front. I could see nothing of what was happening in front. I could hear the shrill screaming of a boy in pain. The slam of a car door and a man's voice raised in anger.

"All right. All right," it was the voice of the man who had spoken too Mr. Parsons. "Look don't block the traffic. There's no damage to your car just move on would you."

There was some more muttering.

"No, no, it's only one of the slave brats plenty more where he came from nothing to worry about there."

The car door slammed once more and there was the sound of a motor moving off. I was urged to my feet by a kick in the bottom. One of the guards dragged the injured boy onto the pavement and rolled him over onto his face. The boy was moaning weakly. The man knelt beside the boy one knee pressed between his shoulder blades. He clasped both hands under the boy's chin and pulled sharply upwards. The boy gave a peculiar grunt twitched and then lay still. The man stood up.

"Remind me to tell them to send the van round to take it away," he said.

"Now you lot. Get moving."

We were driven through the streets of the town, through the shopping center where the sidewalks were thronged with people. Some ignored us, some glanced at the line of naked boys stumbling along in the gutter. Out through the suburbs where children played and hooted as we past. I was too tired and hungry to care any more.

It was almost dark when we arrived outside a set of double gates with a high wall on either side. We squatted on the road waiting. Groups of other boys naked and chained by the neck like us were already there and further groups were arriving by the minute.

At last the gates were opened and we were herded through them. We were in a great asphalt covered yard bounded by a tall brick wall with a large plain building set towards one end. Men brought buckets of water and food out to us. The food was a sort of vegetable stew of boiled potatoes and cabbage. Still chained by our necks we hunkered about the buckets jostling each other shoving handfuls of the stuff eagerly into our mouths.

That night we slept in the open huddling together for warmth.

In the morning hoses were turned on us. We shivered in the cold morning air as each group of boys was lead away in turn. We were frightened. We had no idea of what was to be done to us. At last the men came to us. We were kicked to our feet and urged across the yard into the building. At first we were reluctant to move but a cut or two from the whip soon dealt with that. The chains that linked us together were removed. We were lined up and forced to take our turns kneeling on a hard chair while a man ran a clipper over our heads in a few swift strokes shearing our hair down to a close stubble. In groups of four we were forced into tubs of warm water where we were quickly but thoroughly scrubbed down. Then we were taken into this enormous shed and told to sit on the floor.

We've been here a long time now. As the room filled up we have been packed closer and closer together. I don't know what's going to happen. I don't know why I've been treated like this. I want my Mum. Couldn't some one please tell my Mum I am here? I'm sure she'll come and take me away. Please!

Two of the new comers, both men, began to walk down the side of the hall accompanied by a guard. They were looking closely at the rows of naked boys crouched on the concrete floor. They stopped, talked together, and then one of them pointed.

"You come here," the guard shouted and then when no one moved waded in among the boys. He seized one by the ear and twisting it painfully dragged him over to the two men. The guard released his grip and the boy straightened up.

The hall was crowded and from where I was, seated on the floor, I couldn't see much although the boys sitting closer could see everything. The two men and the guard stood round the boy. The boy squealed and there was the sound of leather striking bare flesh, another cry from the boy and the guard's voice ordering him to "stand still." A pause, another cry and then after a further few minutes the boy was sent back to his place. I could see he was holding his bottom as if it hurt him.

The men worked their way slowly down the rows of boys. Once in a while a boy would be pulled out for them to look at. Most were sent back to their places after the men had finished with them. Every now and again one would be ordered to the top end of the warehouse urged on his way with a flick from the guard's whip.

I couldn't see exactly what was being done to the boys who were selected for inspection but it was clear from their cries that they were being hurt. The men took a long time working their way down the shed and I was close to the back. The nearer they got the more frightened I became. There was nowhere to hide but I thought that if I made myself as small as I could and put my head between my knees I might escape attention.

I could tell from the sounds that they men were now very close.

I heard a voice say just above me "you mean this one here."

Lifting my head I saw the guard towering over me. He reached down and grabbing me by my arm and hauled me to my feet. He marched me across to where the men stood. They looked me coldly up and down. I made an attempt to cover my crotch with my hands. One of the men lent forward and knocked my hands apart.

"Don't cover yourself boy," he said.

"Not that there is much to cover," his companion remarked. "Hairless little shrimp isn't he?"

The other man said nothing but began to examine me. The inspection was thorough and remorseless. Scalp ears, eyes, teeth, lips all were examined. Then his hands moved over my chest and arms feeling and prodding. He reached my crotch. His fingers closed about my balls. I tried to make myself stand still but could not stop myself flinching away.

The whip cracked against the side of my thigh.

"Stand still can't you," the guard shouted.

"Not much bigger than a couple of marbles," the man remarked with a laugh.

He took my penis in his hand and looked at it closely and began to gently stroke it. Despite myself I began to harden. The shame was intense. To be handled like an animal in front of the other boys was bad enough but to be betrayed by my own body made it far worse. Tears of shame stung my eyes.

For a moment he squatted on the floor in front of me feeling my thighs and shins. The he stood up.

"Turn round," he ordered.

Now I was facing out into the body of the hall my erection clearly visible to the boys there. I wanted desperately to cover it but did not dare to do so.

The man's hands kneaded the back of my neck, moved down over my shoulders and came to rest on my bottom.

"Legs apart," he ordered, "and bend over. "Come on as far down as you can go. The more you open yourself the easier it will be for you."

"You can do better than that boy. Put your hands behind you and pull the cheeks of your backside apart. Get a move on."

He reinforced the last instruction with a sharp slap with his open hand on my already sore bum. Miserably I obeyed. My sense of humiliation was complete. I had been near to tears for a long time now they began to flow in earnest.

I felt his finger touch my anus. I tensed. He began to move his finger around it. I could feel coolness as some sort of ointment was worked along its edges. He increased the pressure. I gasped as his finger entered me. It hurt but not unbearably and mixed with the pain was an intense excitement that increased as his finger probed me more deeply. I was no longer aware of the great hall filled with frightened boys, the brutal guards or the two men who had subjected me to so much humiliation. My whole consciousness was centered on the exquisite sensation as the finger moved inside me. I let go of my bottom and put my hands on my knees to steady myself. I felt as though I was straining to draw the man deeper into myself.

Then it was back to reality with a redoubled feeling of shame. My cock flaccid a patch of sticky wetness on my tummy.

The man withdrew his finger and wiped it on the side of my bottom

"Randy little brat," he said. "This is one we'll take."

I was sent to join seven other tearful boys huddled together at the side of the hall.

Over the next half-hour or so two more boys joined us. Then chained together by collars around our necks we were driven outside into the yard. One man remained with us while the other went back into the building. He came back shortly afterwards carrying a sheath of papers.

"All fixed," he announced to his companion. "The same price as last time. One hundred pounds each and the van should be here in a moment."

Shortly afterwards a van drew up nearby. It's driver, a fat man carrying a heavy stick came over to us.

"Are these the boys you want taken to Plymouth?" he asked.

"Yes delivery by eight tomorrow morning and they are to be watered at least once on the way."

"OK Squire that's no problem," he said taking the papers. "Well let's get them loaded then."

"Up. Up. Up. Come on. Come on. Come on." Kicks and blows from his stick urged us to our feet and forced us into the van. There was just room for us to sit squashed tight together in a single row with our legs stretched out straight. Swearing the fat man climbed into the back of the van and shackled us by our ankles to a chain running the length of the vehicle. The door was slammed and locked. The engine roared into life and the van jolted forward.

I sat in the dark crushed tightly against the two boys on either side of me. There was very little air and the inside of the van became increasingly hot. I do not know how long we were in there. I just sat there numb with fear and shame. I was a nasty dirty child who got excited when people pushed things into me no wonder nobody cared for me or was prepared to help me. For a time I think I slept. When I woke the floor felt damp and slippery and the air was foul. I began to think of the man's finger moving inside me. I hardened and I fingered my stiff little cock and for a few moments found escape from my sufferings.

The van jolted to halt. There was a long pause with the sound of movement outside. Then the door was pulled open. For a moment I was blinded by the sudden light. The fat man stood looking in at us an expression of disgust on his face. Holding a handkerchief to his nose he climbed into the van freeing our legs from their shackles.

"Out. Out," he shouted reinforcing his orders with kicks and blows from his stick.

The ten of us chained together by our necks and stiff from cramp scrambled out into the fresh air. The van had been drawn up beside what appeared to be the back of a large building. A metal trough full of water had been placed nearby. On our hands and knees our faces in the trough our bare bottoms in the air we jostled each other to get at the cool liquid.

Soon it was finished. We sat back on our heels our thirst after the long hours in the hot van only partially slaked. A woman had come out of the building She began to walk over towards us. She was wearing a dark navy blue dress with a pin on badge saying "Manageress".

"Where are they from?" she asked the fat man.

"Newcastle Miss," he replied.

"And where are you taking them?" "Plymouth. To be delivered by 10 tomorrow morning." "So you've been on the road for four hours and have about another 6 to go." "That's right Miss. I'll give em an hours rest now and then drive on some way have a bite to eat and a bit of a kip and have the van at the quay side a good hour early."

"So they've got about another twelve hours to go in the van? Poor little buggers."

"Oh I don't know about that Miss. It's not to bad for them. Wouldn't suit us like but we're not like them thank God. Dirty little beasts just look at them."

"Water's all you're giving them?"

"Yes, well they're not working or anything. No reason why they should be fed."

"Roger," the woman shouted.

A youth came out of the building wearing a grubby high collared white jacket and equally dirty trousers with vertical blue and white stripes.

"Fill two buckets from the swill bins and tip them in this trough," she ordered.

"You don't mind do you?" she asked the fat man.

"No not at all Miss," he replied. "Spoil the little sods if you want to."

The youth slopped the swill into the trough. Eagerly we shoveled the leftovers into our mouths while the woman and the fat man looked on. Soon we were struggling among ourselves for the few remaining scraps. The fat man drove us back from the trough with blows from his stick. The woman turned and went back into the building.

After a little while in the fresh air we were forced back into the foul smelling van and the shackles fastened once more about our legs. Conditions in that cramped dark place got steadily worse as time passed. It became increasingly hot and filthy. Again I dosed fitfully and once for a brief few minutes found escape, as I had before, from my immediate misery.

I was jerked back to full consciousness by the van stopping. There was a sound of shouting and laughter. There was hammering on the outside of the van. Two or three of the boys began to cry. The door swung open. The fat man shouted at us to get out fast. Pressing close behind him I could see a crowd of jeering people. We cowered together terrified of the hooting mob. His stick thudded on our bare backs and bottoms as he forced us out of the van. I saw a boy of much the same age as myself laughing and pointing at us. He said something to the man standing next to him, probably his Dad, and he laughed too.

We were standing on the side of a dock. A few yards away a large yacht tugged gently at it's mooring ropes. A cold drizzle damped our filthy bodies. I could see steam rising from the naked shoulders of the boys in front of me.

A gang plank lead from the yacht to the quayside, at its base stood two men. Further thudding blows from the stick drove us towards them. One, the younger one, was a burly fellow with an evil grin. But it was the other one, the elder that terrified me. He was tall and straight and his face looked as though it was carved out of stone. In his right hand he carried a heavy cane with which he tapped his leg as though impatient to use it on some boy's tender little bottom. The fat man walked over to him and handed him a bundle of papers.

"Here you are squire," he said. "All present and correct these are the particulars of the boys."

The other man said nothing. He took the papers and without glancing at them thrust them in his pocket in a gesture of total indifference.

I whimpered in fear. It wasn't fair. What had I done to be treated like this? I was no different than the boy who had just now laughed at me with his Dad. Why couldn't I be with my Dad and laugh with him not handed over to these cruel uncaring men? Surely someone would help me. I was only a little boy and no different from any other boy.

"Well get them aboard. Sharp now," the older man snapped impatiently, "and sort them on deck as usual."

"Very good Sir," the younger replied cheerfully.

"Come on you boys move now. Move blast you," he shouted at us. His whip cracked down across a boy's bare back. There was a howl of pain and we moved forward in a shuffling trot our shackles clinking. As my bare feet touched the gangplank I realized that any chance of my Mum and Dad rescuing me was decreasing with every step I took. I hesitated and the whip flicked my shoulder. It was as if a red- hot iron had touched me. I cried out and stumbled forward.

A row of naked boys, chained together by the heavy metal collars that were fastened about their necks, sat in the well of the ship, hands bound behind their backs. The boys stared up at us as we stood there with blank unseeing eyes.

Two crewmen moved down our line. Every now and again they would release a boy from our chain and add him to the row of seated lads. They came to me and a moment later I too was seated on the deck my hands fastened behind my back secured to the boy next to me by a short length of chain. The examination completed the remaining boys were hustled below deck.

Why had the other boys been taken below? Why was I kept on deck? Nobody spoke to us. Nobody explained anything to us. We were just left to huddle there in hopeless terror. Over the next hour or two more strings of boys were brought aboard and sorted out in the same way.

Eventually I felt the deck beneath me throb as the engines started up. There was a clatter as the gangplank was hauled on board. The ship began to move with the sea. I realized that we had cast off and that all hope of rescue had gone. A wail of despair rose from the boys.

Crewmen began to throw buckets of cold seawater over us washing off the worst of the filth from our bodies. Later still the younger man who had stood on the dockside appeared carrying a Stanley knife. He was grinning evilly and was accompanied by two other men. One of these men carried a bucket of steaming water the other a large bundle of rags. They were talking and laughing together.

They walked slowly past us, stopping in the middle. The young man cracked his whip and we all looked at him.

"I know a lot of you don't understand why you're here. Wondering why your parents, friends, teachers and neighbors turned on you. Well, it's none of your fucking business. You are slaves, slaves with no minds of your own. Your new master has paid for you and you will obey him instantly or die. You will keep your strength up because if you falter and can't work you will die."

This sent shivers up my spine that had nothing to do with the cold water and wind.

"Now your owner has one condition that we have to meet before we get there. He wants all of his slaves circumcised. And that is why you maggots are here. You can scream and cry all you want. But if you don't want to lose your whole useless cock try not to move."

They walked to the end of the row furthest from me and all three knelt down. I could not see what was happening. There was a long shrill scream followed by loud sobbing. A pause another scream and more crying. I began to whimper. Slowly they moved nearer and nearer to where I sat. They were kneeling in front of the boy next to me. I could see the water in the bucket was red with blood. There was blood on the young men's hands and on the blade of the Stanley knife.

One of the men placed his hand on the boy's knees forcing them apart. The young man bent forward took hold of the boy's tiny shrunken prick in one hand. He brought the Stanley knife towards it. The boy was screaming already. I closed my eyes. The boy's screams reached new crescendo and then fell away to uncontrolled sobbing. I felt the man's hands forcing my knees apart. I kept my eyes screwed tightly closed. I could hear myself scream and I felt the touch cold blade of the knife against my cock. There was a searing pain in my crotch. I forced open my eyes. One of the men was wrapping a short length of rag about my prick. The pain was intense.

Slowly the pain decreased to a generalized soreness. Through out the rest of the day we were kept on deck. Every hour or so a crewmember would check the blood soaked rags that bandaged our tender pricks.

Through out the time I was kept on deck relays of boys were brought up from below for an airing. It was not until dawn the next day that the man checking my bandage decided that the flesh had sufficiently healed to risk allowing me down into the hold. I was thoroughly chilled by then and despite the stench I was glad to take my place lying on one of the slatted shelves that had been fitted in the bowels of the ship.

Time meant very little to us. Every now and again we would be taken on deck watered fed and allowed some fresh air. After a time the weather began to get warmer and the hatchway covers were removed to allow more air into the hold.

Then one day we were all brought out on deck. White tipped mountains showed on the horizon. We were counted and inspected and one by one the filth sluiced and scrubbed off us.

All the time the mountains drew closer. Now we could see green scrub on their lower slopes. Below that again fields some of yellow corn others a darker green suggesting some unfamiliar crop and then finally a rocky coastline interspersed with stretches of golden sand.

A warm off shore breeze brought the distinct smell of thyme and pine trees replacing the fetid stink of the holds.

We realized that our time on that awful ship was drawing to a close. We did not know what was to come but never the lesson our spirits lifted.

I was squatting on the deck still damp from my scrubbing. The sun was warm on my back. For the first time in days I was clean and free from the smell of human filth. I began to hope thing might at last begin to get better.

As hope stirred so did my blood. I felt myself begin to harden. The soreness in my penis had lessened. I touched it gingerly it began to harden and I felt no discomfort. The boy sitting beside me seeing what I was doing reached over and took my cock between his fingers. He began to massage it gently.

A man spotted what was going on and kicked me viciously in the bum sending me sprawling.

"What's going on down there," the captain demanded.

"Boy masturbating Sir."

"Bring the disgusting animal here."

I was grabbed by the arm, hauled to my feet and dragged before the thin elderly man. As always he was carrying a short whippy cane. He looked at me with cold expressionless eyes as I stood naked before him. Suddenly he hit me as hard as he could in the stomach. I doubled up and he kicked me feet from under me sending me tumbling onto my back on the deck at his feet.

"Get his ankles over his head and legs apart," he ordered.

Two men leaped to obey him. I was lying with my shoulders pressed against the deck my bottom wide open staring up at the man between my parted legs. I was held in place by the two men holding my ankles.

The man smiled coldly. Positioning himself carefully he placed the cane so that it rested against my balls.

"Those are not for your pleasure now boy," he said coldly. "They are for your master to enjoy and just so you don't forget."

He lifted his cane and brought it down viciously across my testicles. The pain was intense. For a moment I fought for breath. Then I screamed. He lifted the cane again.

"Sir… Please Sir… " and then I screamed again as he cut down once more across the junction of my legs.

Four times more he cut at me there with his cane and then left me totally curled up on the deck sobbing in agony.

Eventually I was kicked to my feet and sent scuttling back to crouch with the other boys as the ship docked. Then there were shouts and cracks of the whips as we were hustled down the gangplank and onto the quayside. All round us was the bustle of a small port. Teams of boys, naked like us, trotted past bent double under heavy burdens or hauling on the shafts of small carts. All looked frightened and all their bodies bore the marks of the overseers' whips.

The captain strode off to a nearby building. He came back with another man. We were counted the captain and the man exchanged papers and shook hands. The captain went back to the ship and we waited some more.

It was a long wait. Nobody took much notice of us. Some boys turned up and looked at us. Not boys like us but confident cheerful boys, riding bicycles, wearing shorts, trainers and without metal collars around their necks. Boys like we used to be, but were no longer.

"Hey new cargo," the biggest boy shouted, "shall we stay and watch the fun boys. They'll be sorting them soon for certain."

"Here they are now," he added as a number of men strolled out of a nearby building all carrying the inevitable whips.

"Hey Mister can we watch?" he called out. "Can we come in and watch please."

The leading man laughed.

"You can do more than that sonny. You can help. Grab a whip and get them moving over here. But keep the lash low we don't want any of their eyes out before they even reach the fields."

The boys dropped their bikes and taking whips from the grinning men began to herd us into a large warehouse whooping and shouting as they cut at our naked bodies with the lashes.

We found ourselves in a large stone flagged hall. At the far end was a wooden bench, about three feet [90 cm] high. It's top was not flat but sloped slightly away from us. Beside the bench was a brazier of with a number of iron bars sticking out of the glowing coals that it contained. We were lined up in rows facing that bench.

On an adjoining table were rows of hollow metal bolts, each with a washer and a valve at its tip and a lock with a ring attached at its base. Next to each bolt was a pliable plastic tube with short stiff bristles incorporated in the soft plastic placed about the central metal bolt just above the valve. The final piece was a rigid plastic tube fitted around the bolt above the pliable tube. This rigid tube acts as the nut to the central metal bolt.

Two men grabbed nearest boy and forced him over the bench. A third man withdrew one of the iron bars from the brazier and pressed its red-hot tip against the boy's left buttock just below the hip. The boy screamed shrilly. The man replaced the branding iron on the hot colas and took a large object rather like a bicycle pump from out of a bucket of steaming water. He bent forward over the boy's upturned bottom. The lad screamed again. He said something and then a moment later slapped the boy's rump.

From a third assistant he took an assembled object and once more bent forward and rammed it into the boy's bum causing a further howl of pain from the boy. The men released the youth. He got unsteadily to his feet and holding his bottom was pushed out of the building by a small side door.

"Now you've seen what you've got to do," the man who had used the brand said. "You," he said pointing to next boy, "Your turn come here."

The lad hesitated and one of the free boys cut him viciously across the back of his legs with the whip. The wretched child moved forward.

"Get down," the man commanded. Once again the brand was pressed against the boys bare bum and once again screams of pain filled the hall.

"Next," the man shouted. One by one we shuffled reluctantly forward, stretched ourselves over the bench waiting for the hot iron to burn its mark into our flesh. Be raped by water and then the object.

It was my turn. It seemed to me that I had a mile to walk to get to the bench. I bent over it. The two men grabbed my wrists holding me in place. The hot iron pressed against my bottom hurt more than anything I had experienced ever before. But that was not the end. Even as the pain from the brand incised into my bum tore through my body the man parted my buttocks and roughly jabbed his finger into my anus. He withdrew it and something cold and hard was forced into me.

"Hold it in," he ordered. Obediently I clamped my bum tight.

"Let go," he shouted a minute or so later slapping my rump with his open hand. I obeyed emptying myself. Then there was an even more intense pain as something so large I thought I was going to tear was forced into me. I felt the man moving his hand against my bottom. It seemed as if something was swelling inside me and then there was a piercing pain. The man jerked at the thing inside me and the pain was all consuming.

"Stop crying baby and go sit with the other slaves."

Holding back tears I stumbled out the door to the other boys and my still burning bum was forced flat on the hard dirt and felt the object forced even further up it. Along the warehouse wall were various things that I barely recognized from the book on medieval torture my Uncle Danny gave me Christmas last. Mum was furious but Dad just laughed and gave me a wink. Had he known then what my fate was?

It took another half-hour before boys stopped coming out. The sun was beating down and sweat was pouring down on every part of every slave I could see.

We sat, sat and waited. I was thirstier than I'd ever been but somehow knew better than to ask for something to drink. Though even one of the men's piss would have helped.

I heard horses coming and turned my eyes in that direction.

"On your feet slaves and stand at attention. Say anything, do anything and you will die. Now move it vermin!"

Four horses turned the corner. The men on the horse in front and back carried rifles and moved their eyes all over the place. In between a man and a boy rode together. He was a hundred feet [30 m] away and I felt the power and strength flowing out of him. The men guarding us were also at attention.

The boy looked to be about fourteen and a mini version of the man. I sensed an aura around him to, that there was only one man he answered to in this place, or maybe anywhere, his father.

They stopped and as they dismounted the ship captain and the man who'd been in charge inside the warehouse emerged. The latter handed the man a clipboard. The three talked as the boy watched on. The man, no, my master signed the papers, shook the captain's hand and watched as the sailor left.

Father and son stood on a set of steps, the son a step below his father. They were dressed alike. Khaki pants, open leather vest showing muscular builds.

"Slaves, I am your Lord, yes as far as you are concerned I am God. You will never talk to me unless I give you permission. The same goes for my son who is your Master. You will be assigned to various work details and as long as you obey orders and do your work you will be fine. Disobey, or become unable to do your work and you will die. Your overseers have the right to punish, even kill you on the spot and there is no appeal."

I tried not to shake, knowing I probably wouldn't see my next birthday. "There are various rules you have to learn quickly. Complete obedience is the first. The second is all sex is forbidden among yourselves. Including masturbation. However, if any free man or boy wants to use you sexually you will comply or die."

Now I was really worried. Had the captain told them what happened on board?

"The Captain informed me one of you was caught wanking on board and while he punished the piece of shit I believe he needs to be reminded and a lesson shown all of you. Now if the slave doesn't come forward I will start killing until I kill all of you."

He had told. I didn't want to be responsible for anybody's death, even if I might really be doing them a favor, so I started forward. I worked my way through the boys until I was in front of my Lord.

"Your name slave?"

"David my Lord."

"Is it true you touched yourself on board?"

"Yes my Lord."

"Jonathon, take David to the gallows and prepare him."

I didn't speak, I couldn't. I wanted to beg for mercy, forgiveness but some part of me remembered that speaking without permission was automatic death anyway.

Two of the guards grabbed me and we followed Jonathon toward the gallows. Once there they tied the noose around my neck and my hands behind my back.

"Slaves, this is a lesson to all of you. David is a good-sized slave for his age and would surely give me good years of service. But he has broken the law and must be punished. But I have been kind to him in his last minutes because he didn't know the rules he is dying for. The noose is tied to break his neck and kill him instantly. Other ways will not be as kind."

My Lord and Master turned and walked down the steps. When they reached the front of the gallows and looked up at me I shit and pissed myself. The men on the gallows laughed but a frown from my Lord stopped them. I forced myself to nod at him, giving thanks for not taking my life as people laughed at me.

As I stood there waiting Master tapped him on the shoulder and whispered something. Lord nodded, listened, said something and Master nodded.

"David, my son wants you for his personal slave. You will follow his every whim. Accept or die."

"I accept my Lord, it will be an honor to serve my Master."

"If you fail or displease my son you will die a very painful and prolonged death.

"I understand my Lord."

"Jonathon, remove the noose and take him inside the warehouse. Wesley, bring me the runt."

A tall black man walks into the crowd and grabs a boy. The boy is maybe four feet tall and very skinny, and he cries as he's dragged toward the gallows.

I was inside when I heard a door open, followed immediately by a collective gasp.

"Come here slave," Jonathon ordered and I ran to him.

He picked up a hose and sprayed the shit, piss, sweat and dirt off me with warm water. "A word of advice David, obey our Master and you will have an easy life, maybe even easier than if you were home. He's a good kid but has his father's mean streak in him too."

"Thank you sir," I said and smiled.

"Now come back to the branding pit boy, there's a second brand for both forearms to show you are a house slave and one for your left breast to show you are Master's personal property. The pain they'll save you will be a lot less than what they'll give you now."

"Thank you sir," I said and followed him back.

There were three brands heating in the fire. Two men took hold of my lower arms and Jonathon applied the brands. I'd thought the one on my bum was bad, the arms were worse and when he pressed the red hot metal over my heart I screamed. As his two assistants held me in place he reached into my hole and removed the object that had just been put in.

"You're lucky boy, you won't need that either. Though there will be other objects filling your ass enough of the time," Jonathon said.

The two men laughed, but a look from their supervisor shut them up.

My Lord and Master entered the warehouse with their two guards and four other slaves. I went to attention, praying that Master hadn't changed his mind and I would die.

"Jonathon, brand these four for the house and bring them to James for training," my Lord said.

My Master walked over to me and took hold of my cock and squeezed hard. "You are mine for whatever I want slave. I want to be a kindly master, but that is up to you. Do you understand slave?"

"Yes my Master, I will do as you order."

Out of his pants pocket he pulled out a cord, no a leash. At one end were three studded metal rings. Studded on both sides I discovered as he fastened them around my cock and balls. My cock was sticking straight out hard but I felt the blood building up behind my balls.

A sudden surge of electricity tore through my balls and cock, driving me to my knees.

"That was low power slave. Now stand and follow me to my quarters."

I followed Master as far back as the leash would allow.

"Heel," he said and pointed to a spot right behind his left shoulder. I ran into position. "Good boy. You will live with me in the main house. As such you will keep yourself clean and well groomed and will wear what I tell you, when I want you to wear clothes that is. I like your body, especially naked like this." Master reached back and cupped my right bum and gave it a gentle squeeze.

This didn't surprise me, or really bother me. I figured he'd picked me because of my wanking, along with a decent body. Or at least it had been the day I'd been taken. I knew I was leaner since they hadn't given us much to eat at any point.

We got to his horse and I started to wonder what I was supposed to do.

"You ever ride a horse?"

"No, Master."

"You'll learn, but today take the reigns and walk the horse up the road to the house." Master pointed the way.

I took the reigns, stroked the beasts' nose and started walking. The horse kept to my pace and Master didn't say anything. It was a hard dirt road, a reddish color that reminded me of the clay tennis courts dad's club had. By the time we reached the top of the hill I was breathing heavy.

"We'll toughen you up boy. Inside a month you'll be doing this at a trot and not breaking a sweat," Master said.

I heard and somehow knew no response was required. It was also the first time I saw La Casa Del Cid, the Lord's House. It was a magnificent building radiating wealth, power, and beauty.

The horse started moving and I resumed the lead before it started dragging me. After another half-hour we reached the front door. I held the horse and looked up at my Master.

The door opened and an older house slave emerged. He was about eighteen, well over six feet [1.80 m] tall and huge muscles. He wore a loincloth and vest along with his collar.

"Slave David, this is Chief House Slave Joseph. Joseph, this boy is my personal slave. He will be living in my quarters and I expect you to help train him. If he gives you a message for me you are to obey it as if it were from my own lips. Boy, if you abuse this power you will die a long, painful death."

I nodded.

"Yes my Master," Joseph said. What shall I do with Renee?"

"I believe the head baker has requested a new slave to work the ovens. Send him there. At once."

"Yes my Master," Joseph said.

A naked boy of about fifteen came and knelt besides the horse on all fours. His body from top to bottom was completely hairless and a chain ran from his collar, through earrings, nipple rings and finally through a ring through the tip of his cock. He was completely tanned and smelt like a horse.

Master swung his leg over and used the boy as a step to dismount.

"David, put the reigns in his mouth so he can take it back to the stables and take care of it."

I did and the boy walked like a dog leading the horse around the side of the building.

"Slave David, there a couple rules you must know now. One unless otherwise instructed you will always be with me. Second, you will walk behind my right shoulder. Third if you see any danger to me it is your duty to protect me at all costs. Forth, you will repeat nothing you hear while with me. Fifth, if you hear anything from the other slaves that should concern my father or me you will report it at once. Sixth, talking among house slaves is permitted, but not with other slaves. Finally David, when we are alone you may talk without fear of death, but only when we are alone. Do you understand?"

"Yes Master. I will try and serve you well. I just pray for your mercy if I make a mistake."

Master slapped me across both sides of my face. "Boy, your body is mine, your life is in my hands, no your very soul is mine. I will do with them what I want, when I want."

I bowed my head. "Forgive me my Master."

Master sniffed the air. "When did you last bathe?"

"They washed me with warm water before they put the new brands on Master. Before that, the morning I was." I stopped, didn't know what the right word to use was.

Master smiled, "kidnapped?"

"That's what it felt like sort of, but not really. Unless the government was the one kidnapping me."

"You are smart too, and you're right. Remember a test you took about what you thought about things, liked to do and all?"

"Yes, teacher said it was a government study."

Master laughed. "A couple of scientists came up with that test and claimed any boy falling below a certain score would become a criminal. Probably violent at that."

"I would never," and stopped at a raised hand.

"Would or not didn't matter. The government believed it and decided to collect and do something with the lot of you. My father and some of his colleagues who needed young, cheap manual labor made a deal with your government. You failed and so you are mine."

"Thank you for telling me the truth Master. And thank you for saving my life, for as long as you feel me worthy to live and to serve."

He ran his hand over my bristly hair. "Follow me, walk as I told you."

Master turned and entered the open front door, a manservant dressed like Joseph bowed as we passed. The inside was as magnificent as the outside. It was also bigger than almost every building I'd ever been in, certainly larger than any house. My ears would pick up sounds, voices, but as my Master approached silence fell. We passed a group of boys cleaning the floor and they made eye contact with me and I felt a chill run down my spine even worse than when the noose had been tightened around my neck.

I brought my gaze back to my Master's right shoulder and followed him up a two long flight of stairs. At the top we turned left toward a set of double doors. Two large men stood in front of the doors. Master stopped, nodded, and they opened the door.

"This slave is my new house slave. He has free access to my suite, inform the rest of the guard."

"Yes Master," the one on the right said.

"Unless my father summons me I do not wish to be disturbed until supper."

They nodded and we entered the room, and the door closed behind us.

He led me through a large living room with a giant television and entertainment center, computer system, several chairs and couches and a refrigerator and microwave oven. The one room was almost bigger than my family's flat in St Anselm.

Then we entered his bedroom and I was stunned. There was another big screen TV that was dwarfed by the huge bed along the opposite wall. The third wall was a giant picture window that looked over the backyard. Not that it was like any backyard I'd ever seen.

"This is where you'll be living. You will sleep on the floor at the foot of my bed unless I tell you otherwise."

"Yes Master, this is a fantastic room."

He walked up to me and ran a finger down my chest, stopping at my cock. "However, you will be spending a lot of time in bed with me. But the first thing we have to do is shower and clean up. I'm not taking you to bed looking and smelling like that."

Master turned and led me through a door in the corner and into the most ornate bathroom I'd ever seen. There were two toilets; the larger was ornate down to armrests and magazine rack. Mine was smaller, clean but quite low to the ground. There were metal hooks behind and on the floor.

"Undress me," Master said and I turned my attention to him. I walked behind him and took his vest off and hung it on a gold hook by the door. I then slipped off his riding boots and placed them on a mat under the hook. Carefully trying not to touch his body I unbuttoned his pants and slipped them down, he was naked underneath. He lifted his left leg and I slipped the pants off and we repeated the procedure with the right. When I rose I had my first look at his naked body.

My cock immediately responded. He was beautiful, smooth firm from head to toe. I looked at his face and saw his smile.

"I see you like what you see slave, you will have many encounters with it before I'm finished with you. Especially with this," he stroked his hard eight inches [20 cm].

"I look forward to serving my Master," I said and felt a drop of precum ooze out of my slit.

"Use the toilet boy, take your first dump before I start cleaning you out."

I did as told and watched as he hooked an enema bag up to the shower. The nozzle Master used resembled a penis, a very big, hard penis. After pissing and shitting I cleaned my ass up as deep as I could and stood inside the shower where Master pointed. I spread my legs as far as I could and grabbed my ankles.

The wet nozzle slipped inside my inner ring and I relaxed to let it in. I moaned when it brushed my prostate. Then the warm soapy water started flowing in. I reacted as I had at home and let my body fill.

"Very good David, you've done this before."

"Mum did it every Sunday before church. Said a body must be clean inside and out before entering church."

"Well, you'll get them regular here now." Master said as he shut the water flow. "Wait for ten minutes then I'll remove the nozzle and we'll do it once more before we shower. And if you spill a drop on the floor you will lick it up."

"Yes Master." While mother hadn't used the word "lick" she had made me clean any up for the last two years so I knew how to control myself.

When that was finished I entered the shower and washed myself carefully and thoroughly under his watchful eyes. Then he gave me slightly scented soap for a final wash. Then he joined me and I washed him the same way. I took the big fluffy blue towels and dried him, and the plain white ones and dried myself.

Master took me in his arms and kissed me, our naked flesh meeting, hard cocks touching as he cupped my ass cheeks in his firm hands. When he finished the kiss he led me to the center of his bed.

"Stand over me, stroke your cock but don't cum."

Looking at my beautiful Master lying on the bed almost made me forget his instructions but twice I was able to stop just in time.

"Suck my cock, but don't let me cum until I tell you."

I knelt and quickly took his head into my mouth, swallowing the precum that was already flowing. It took a while but I finally swallowed his monster cock. When he felt my breath on his groin he sighed and rubbed my head.

"Keep this up and I'll let you grow your head hair back," Master sighed.

For fifteen minutes I worked his cock, three times stopping right before he shot. He finally demanded release and I gladly gave it to him, swallowing every precious drop of his seed.

When I'd sucked it dry and licked it clean I pulled off. My cock was raging but I kept my hands off. I had not been given permission to cum.

"On your back and hold your legs back to your head," Master said and I saw his cock hadn't gone down at all.

Master stuck two fingers in my clean hole and saw it was still nicely stretched from the nozzle. Silently he aimed and inserted his tool into me. My love canal opening to welcome all eight inches [20 cm] and I quickly felt his trimmed pubic bush rub my branded butt.

I sighed.

Master grinned and took hold of my cock and started stroking it. "You can cum now."

It didn't take long for my seed to be coating my face, chest and stomach. Master continued pumping as he began fucking me. I concentrated on using my ass to increase his pleasure. While he was my first I could tell I wasn't his first by the way he fucked my ass.

I felt my cock harden again as he picked up speed and intensity. His crotch banged my ass. His rod stroked my prostate.

"I think I'm going to cum again Master," I moaned. "You're hot cock is pushing me to the edge."

Not a word, but a kind smile filled his face.

My second load landed on top of the first.

His seed filled my insides.

That was the first time we had sex. That was twelve years ago and I am still at his side. It wasn't always easy or fun but I love him, and he loves me. He married the daughter, and only child, of the owner of an adjoining estate and we split our time between the two. She stays at her home with his heir. Master freed me on my twentieth birthday and I now have my own young slave boys to take care of my needs. But I am happiest with my Master.

My Lord, my Master and I are riding down to the docks to receive a new load of slaves. On board are the twin grandsons of the Prime Minister who signed the Criminal Prevention Act, which resulted in my being sent here. Another boy is the youngest son of my old headmaster. Master and I have already decided that he will be the one to wear the example noose this time.

We've got much worse planned for the Prime Minister's whelps.

The End