The Neighbor's New Hogboy

By: Randall Austin
(© 2013-2014 by the author)

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

Chapter 5

As soon as Mr. Patterson picked Thomas up from the processing center and got him to his house, three days after his indenturement, the first thing he did to the new slave (who was dressed in Hennepin County standard issue slave shorts, pullover green work shirt, and hard labor work boots) was place him in his back yard slave hole.  It was the same screened-over hole he had put all of his former slaves on their first day at his place.  Mr. Patterson had read in some magazine, over twenty years ago, that keeping new slaves holed up for a day or two helped calm them down and aid them in coming to terms with their new status.

Of course, all of the latest and more enlightened servitor handling data is in complete disagreement with such a practice, but Mr. Patterson is a conservative type.  What that means in actuality is that the first thing Mr. Patterson had ever heard in his life about a given subject is the impression that ‘took’ in his brain, and therefore it is against his very nature to even consider that any other alternative could possibly be right or true.

And two other strong traits of the conservative nature were to be seen in Mr. Patterson: sentimentality and superstition.  On the drive home from the processing center Mr. Patterson fawned over Thomas as if he were a new puppy.  “You’re so sweet.  I want you to know that I’m going to take very good care of you.  I’m a very benevolent overseer.  I want you to talk to me as if I were your own daddy.  And in a way, that’s what I am now; your new daddy.  You’re such a sweet little boy.  I’m going to take such good care of you that you will wonder if you have indeed been indentured.  We will have so much fun together!” 

To Thomas, it felt like Mr. Patterson was treating him like he was a new puppy, and his familiarity was unnerving.

But his effusiveness was not as hard for Thomas to swallow as was Mr. Patterson’s superstitious nature, “I want you to know Tommy that Jesus loves slaves.  I don’t know if you know Jesus, but I intend to have Waylan teach you all about him.  Because if you are a good slave in this life, Jesus will be there in the next life to reward you for your life of faithful service.”

As Mr. Patterson locked the screen over the slave hole, he comforted Thomas, “It’s good for you to spend your first hours as a slave in a hole, son.  There’s nothing wrong with being a slave.  Don’t you go feeling bad about it.”

Mr. Patterson’s son, 16-year old Waylan, was eagerly looking forward to the arrival of his dad’s newest slave; his former neighbor and the brother of his best friend, Michael Dayton.  And as Mr. Patterson was about to leave Thomas alone in the hole to help him get adjusted to his new life, Waylan came running outside and yelled to his father, “Is he down there, Dad?”

His father smiled, “He sure is!  Come and have a look, son.  Here he is.  Our brand new slave!”

Waylan peered into the hole with a big grin, “Hey, Tommy.  Wow, it’s really you down there!”

Waylan was eager to show off his family’s authority over Thomas, so he commanded his father, “Make him take off his clothes, Dad!”

Mr. Patterson wanted his son to be comfortable with all aspects in the overseership of their new slave, so he encouraged him, “You can ask him, son.  I want you to use some of the skills you’ve been learning in your young handler’s club.  Tommy has to obey you just as much as he does me.”

Waylan smiled broadly and called into the hole, “Okay, Tommy, take off all of your clothes!”

Thomas gave a worried look up to the two Patterson’s peering into the hole.  Mr. Patterson spoke, “You heard my son, Tommy.  He wants you take off your clothes.  You have to do whatever he tells you to do, just as if it were me telling you.”

Thomas looked like he wanted to cry, so Mr. Patterson encouraged him, “Come on son.  We have to check you out because I have some pills that you need to start taking immediately, and I need to check out your basic muscle tone to make sure that you’re in good enough shape, by my standards, to take the pills.”

Thomas asked, frightened, “What kind of pills?”

Mr. Patterson answered, “They’re steroids.  You’ll be taking a steroid cocktail every day.”

Thomas was defiant, “I’m not taking those.  They’re bad for you.  In fact, they’re dangerous!”

Mr. Patterson shook his head, “I don’t think the good physicians at the Hennepin County Social Services Authority would have given me a prescription for them if they thought they would do you any harm.  Athletes take them all the time.”

Thomas spoke quietly, “I don’t want to take steroids.”

Mr. Patterson tried to reassure the new slave, “Thomas, let’s not start out like this.  I need you to turn yourself into an ace muscle boy for me.  I can only afford to train and regimen you for a year and a half.  So we have to get you started right now on your steroids and hormone therapy so you can grow into a big and strong, super-muscled, hard worker boy.”  

After a slight pause, Mr. Patterson continued in the same reassuring tone, “Tommy, they gave you a great bill of health.  Your physical exam showed you to be in great condition.  It’s because of the results of the physical they gave you that I agreed to purchase you when your father asked me.  But you’re not going to do me any good if you won’t work with me on getting you in peak condition.  And it’s for your own good, Tommy.  If we can get you all muscled out, then all the better for you.  After all, you are a hard labor servant, and the more muscles you have, the easier it will be for you to do hard labor.”

Thomas whined, “I don’t want those big ugly body-builder muscles.  You can’t do this to me.”

Mr. Patterson remained calm, “Tommy, you have to understand that your body no longer belongs to you.  It belongs to me.  I’m your daddy now.  You belong to me.  Your body is mine now, and I will decide what to do with it.  I have to get you bulked up and muscled out.  That’s the only way I can afford to have you here.  There’s nothing wrong with being super fit.  Guys and gals all look up to guys with super physiques, and that’s what you’re going to have; a super physique.” 

“While you’re with me for the next eighteen months you’ll be working out most of the time: lifting weights, exercising, taking a protein rich diet, and lots of special pills to help you rapidly gain the muscles that you’ll want to show off to everybody.”

After a pause, Mr. Patterson concluded, “I know you’re stressed a little, Tommy.  So I’m not going to argue with you now.  It’s 9 AM now.  I want you to spend the next ten hours thinking about how you can be a good slave.  If you have to go potty, you can dig a little hole for yourself and eliminate in the hole.  I’ll be back to get you tonight.  Then we can get your clothes off; give you your pills; start you on a special diet that only developing muscle boys get fed; put you on the exercise wheel for a couple of hours; and then, at the end of your first day as a hard labor slave, put you in a diaper and lock you down in your bed for a good night’s sleep.”

He then instructed his son, “Leave him alone now, Waylan.  Tommy needs some quiet time.”

***

When Mr. Patterson and Waylan returned to the slave hole at 6 PM, Thomas was curled in a ball, and asleep.  Mr. Patterson called out, “Tommy wake up.  It’s time to begin turning you into a hard-labor muscle boy.”

Thomas stirred and eventually stood up, wondering what to do.  Waylan commanded, “Alright, take off your clothes.”

Thomas didn’t move.  Mr. Patterson shook his head, “Tommy, don’t be this way.”  When Tommy still didn’t move, Mr. Patterson nodded to his son, “Waylan, would you like to give him a little encouragement?”

Waylan was pleased, “Sure thing Dad!”

Waylan unzipped his trousers, took out his pecker, aimed it at Thomas, and started pissing.  When the stream hit Thomas he jumped, but Waylan, well practiced at pissing on slaves, was able to follow Thomas around the small hole and saturate his shoulders and back side.

When Waylan had emptied his load of piss, Mr. Patterson spoke, “Now surely, Thomas, you don’t want to keep those piss-drenched slave clothes on.  So why don’t you remove them?”

Thomas let out a few sobs, and was too overcome to react.  He stood there, trembling, and heard Mr. Patterson call out, “Tommy, look up at me!”

When Thomas looked up he was hit in the face by a stream of piss from Mr. Patterson.  Waylan laughed, “Good shot, Dad!”

As Thomas coughed and sputtered to get the piss out of his mouth, he frantically wiped his face with his hands, as Mr. Patterson managed to continue to soak Thomas’s slave clothes with his overseer piss.

Once Mr. Patterson had soaked his slave, he and his son laughed light-heartedly at the piss-soaked boy in the hole.

As Mr. Patterson stuffed his large dick back into his slacks and zipped up, he and his son were interrupted by the arrival in the back yard of Kevin, who asked of Mr. Patterson, “Pardon me, sir.  Are you Mr. Patterson?  I’m Kevin Dayton, the nephew of Phil Dayton, who lives across the street.  And I’m wondering if my uncle is here, because I had heard that you purchased his son.”

Mr. Patterson walked over to Kevin and shook his hand, “Nice to meet you, Kevin.  Mr. Dayton is due back soon.  He had to make a trip to St. Paul, but he told me he would be back home around suppertime, so he should be here soon.  This is his son’s first day at my place, so I told him he could visit Tommy when he returned.”

Kevin nodded, and Mr. Patterson asked, “I take it, then, that you must know Thomas.”

Kevin shook his head, “Oh yes sir, quite well.  He and I were very good friends growing up.  That’s why this whole thing is a little heavy for me to take.  My own dear cousin a slave for life!”

Mr. Patterson put a hand on Kevin’s shoulder, “I can understand that.  But you can be assured that Thomas couldn’t have a more caring overseer for his first year of service than me.  I really love the little guy.  I have known him ever since he was a kid.  Shocking, of course, to find out that he was a homo all along, but the good news is that the indenturement program really helps such individuals to lead happier lives.”

Kevin agreed, “Yes, I’m really glad that Uncle Phil was able to find a solution that will help Thomas refocus his life and become a happier individual.”  After a pause, Kevin asked, “How is Tommy doing?”

“As good as can be expected.  We’re having a little trouble right now getting him to cooperate so we can give him his pills.  But maybe you can give him a little encouragement to get him to cooperate.”

Kevin nodded with enthusiasm, “Sure!  I love my little cousin and would be happy to be able to help in any way I can!”

Kevin looked in the hole and nodded at Thomas, “Cousin, how ya doing?”  Kevin looked at Mr. Patterson, “Why is he all wet?”

“We used urine as an encouragement technique to get him to take his clothes off.  Don’t be shocked at that, it’s a standard technique.  I need to pill Tommy, but before I do that, I need to check out his body.  I’m a pretty good judge of body mass, and I like to customize my slave’s dosages of steroids and hormones.”

Mr. Patterson asked Thomas again, “Son, take your clothes off, so we can hose you down?  Don’t be shy.  You are going to be kept naked for most of the time that you are here with me in training, so you need to get used to it.”

There was no response from the dazed Thomas, so Mr. Patterson looked to Kevin for help.  Kevin called out, “Come on cousin.  Get those piss-soaked clothes off.  You need to be proud of yourself.  Mr. Patterson needs to check you out.” 

In the time since Kevin had been asked to leave his father’s house, he had thought of his cousin and found a new sympathy for him.  But now, actually being in his presence of a real slave about to be controlled and ordered about, Kevin forgot the more tender feelings he had recently discovered.  With his hormones raging, Kevin sheepishly asked Mr. Patterson, “Sir, I need to take a whiz too.  Should I give it a try?”

Mr. Patterson was pleased with the offer of help, “Sure, that would be great!  Just step over the grate and give Tommy another hosing.”

Kevin went up the grate covering the hole.  As he looked down into the hole, about to unzip, Thomas, dejected, started pulling off his slave shirt. 

Mr. Patterson was please and started to unlock the gate, “Good boy, Tommy.  I’ll get the ladder.”

As Mr. Patterson put the plastic ladder down the hole, Waylon spoke to Kevin, “You must have the magic touch with slaves, Kevin.”

Kevin smiled, then lied, “I’m glad I didn’t actually have to pee on my old buddy.”

As Thomas climbed out of the hole carrying his shirt in one hand, Mr. Patterson whispered a question and some instructions to Kevin, who nodded approvingly as he listened.  When Thomas was out of the hole, Mr. Patterson instructed him to keep his labor boots on, but to remove his shorts, and then to go over to his cousin Kevin and kneel down in front of him.

When his shorts were off, shy Thomas cupped his genitals with one hand and went and knelt in front of Kevin as instructed.

Mr. Patterson spoke, “Tommy, honey, when I sell my slaves once I get them muscled and bulked out, I do so with a guarantee that my slaves are fully trained and knowledgeable in all areas of service.  Honey, dear, Kevin has to take a piss, and I would like you to help him out.”

Thomas looked at Mr. Patterson, almost expressionless, and Mr. Patterson explained.  “Tommy, I want you to drink Kevin’s urine so he doesn’t have to go out of his way to go to the bathroom.  Son, this is something you need to be familiar with.  It’s something you need to try out, so that if you ever do have an owner who uses you for urinal service, you can honestly say that you have received an introduction to urinal service.  It’ll be a big plus for you to have that on your resume!”

Thomas looked like he would completely break down, so Mr. Patterson explained some more, “Now Tommy, this is not a big deal.  It’s something that we have to cover; most likely anyone who purchases you is not going to be using you for such service – it’s rare – but it is something that we have to cover because it is out there.  There’s nothing wrong or degrading about being of service; human piss from healthy males like Kevin is completely safe and sterile.  This is as good a time as any since Kevin is your own cousin, he’s not some stranger, and you’re already covered in piss.  And Kevin is going to go easy on you; he’s just going to go in short spurts, so it’s easy for you to swallow.”

Mr. Patterson nodded at Kevin, who then unzipped and pulled out his free-boy cock, which was already slightly firmed up from watching his cousin being degraded.  Mr. Patterson commanded, “Now look up at your older cousin and open your mouth as wide as you can.”

When Thomas saw Kevin’s dick he remembered its wide flange from the night in the cage when Kevin had tricked him into sucking him off.  Thomas’s thoughts of that night were interrupted by a spurt of Kevin’s piss into his mouth.  Mr. Patterson instructed, “Good, now swallow it, honey.”

Thomas managed to swallow it, and Kevin peed out some more.  Thomas was again successful in swallowing, though his eyes were moistening with tears. 

Mr. Patterson nodded approvingly, “Okay, Kevin, give him another spurt.  I think he’s getting the hang of it.”

Thomas was again able to swallow the short spurt, so Mr. Patterson instructed, “Kevin, he seems able to take it, so you can just go ahead and empty yourself.  Just let it rip!”

As Kevin peed it felt especially good to him, as peeing never had before.  Peeing into his cousin’s mouth provided him with a rare tingling feeling that made the moment special.

Thomas tried swallowing, and was successful at first; but soon the gag reflex kicked in and he started sputtering.  The pee overflowed his mouth, covered his face, and splashed his body.  Mr. Patterson instructed, “Kevin, just keep peeing.  Don’t stop now.  This is good for Thomas.”

As Thomas turned his head down, coughing out the piss, Kevin continued peeing on his head and back.

Once it was over and Thomas’s coughing had turned to crying, Mr. Patterson spoke, “Waylan, Tommy did pretty good on his first try, but this is one area that you’re going to have to cover with Thomas again, in the days ahead; at least until he is able to keep up with swallowing a fairly steady stream.”

Waylan, obedient son, nodded with a smile, “I sure will, Dad!”

Mr. Patterson pointed and instructed, “Thomas go over by the hose so Waylan can hose you down and get you cleaned up.”

As Kevin watched Waylan run the hose all over Thomas’s head and body, Mr. Patterson offered his assessment; “He’ll be a really good slave.  Boys like Tommy, kind of shy and gentle, once enslaved get more and more childlike as their training kicks in.  And I encourage that trait in the boys that I train.  So if you ever want to visit him or bring him a gift, I would just ask that you keep it all in line with my approach.  Keep the conversation down to simple things; don’t bring up complex world events.  And keep gifts simple as well: things like a jumping rope, a teddy bear, a ball, or a beanie.”

Kevin nodded in understanding.

As Waylan walked the cleaned up, genital-clutching, slave back to Mr. Patterson and Kevin, Mr. Patterson dug a small envelope out of his pocket and opened it.  He poured the contents into his hand; six pills of varying size and colors.  He explained, “Tommy, here’s your steroid cocktail.  I want you to take these.”

Mr. Patterson held out his hand for Thomas to take the pills, and Waylan held out a bottle of water for Thomas.  Thomas accepted neither offering.  Mr. Patterson moved closer, “Come on, boy.  We can’t fool around.  This is serious business.  Take these pills!”

When Thomas still did not reply, Mr. Patterson handed the pills to Waylan, grabbed Thomas by the shoulders, and said to Waylan, “Help me out here son.  Let’s get him splayed out on the picnic table!”

Mr. Patterson and Waylan were easily able to maneuver Thomas to the picnic table and push him backside down over it.  As Mr. Patterson held Thomas down by his shoulders, he instructed Waylan, “Okay Waylan, use the standard force-pilling technique.” 

Kevin moved in closer to watch his cousin get pilled.  With Mr. Patterson holding the naked slave down on the picnic table, Thomas’s body was on full display.  Kevin found the scene overwhelming; seeing his naked, splayed-out, cousin getting force-pilled outdoors in Mr. Patterson’s backyard.

Waylan surprised Kevin with his adeptness: he pinched Thomas’s nose to open his mouth; dumped all of the pills in; poured in just a little water from the water bottle; force closed his jaw as one would do while pilling a cat; and then started rubbing the base of Thomas’s neck.  Thomas swallowed, and Mr. Patterson smiled, “Good work, son!”

Kevin exclaimed, “Wow, you’re a pro, Waylan!”

Mr. Patterson explained, “That’s all part of the good stuff he’s learned in his young handler’s club.”

Waylan was happy for the compliments, but even happier at what he saw, “Look at his wiener, Dad.  He isn’t cut!  Can I do it, Dad?”

Mr. Patterson beamed proudly at Waylan, “You sure can, son!”

As Mr. Patterson assisted Thomas off the table, Kevin surprised, asked him, “You’re going to let Waylan circumcise Tommy?”

Mr. Patterson nodded, “Oh yes, I think he’s ready.  He was kind of upset when I got Craig, because Craig was already circumcised.  I had promised Waylan last year that he could snip our next slave. So when I ended up with Craig, Waylan was quite upset.  You see, it’s a big moment in a young overseer’s life when he gets to clip his first slave.  It’s a big tradition here in the Midwest.  And since everyone just seems to love seeing slaves get cut, I have always made a big event out of it.  I have a barbeque, serve lots of drinks, then for the climax we secure the slave to one of the picnic tables, and everyone gathers round to get a good view of a young overseer doing his first slave clipping.  It’s a good time for everyone!”

Thomas put his head down and cupped his genitals more tightly as Mr. Patterson continued, “It’s traditional to let children who intend to enter the business of servitor control, to circumcise their first slave somewhere around the age of 15, all under the supervision of a qualified physician, of course.  It’s a rite of passage for young overseers.”

“I’ll never forget when I snipped my first slave.  I was 16, just like Waylan, and our new slave, Ambrose, was tied down to a gurney and wheeled into the party.  I was nervous, and it took me several slices to actually slice the foreskin completely off, but I did end up doing a neat job.  There were tears in my father’s eyes when it was over.  I felt so good that my dad was so proud of me.  But I was concerned for the slave; no anesthetic is ever used for ceremonial circumcisions, and it was hard for me to listen to Ambrose screaming.  Even though my dad had prepared and taught me ahead of time how to be objective when dealing with a screaming slave, it was nevertheless difficult for me, at that age, to hear such pitiful screaming.  But dad eventually did a very good job of teaching me to be objective around slaves.”

Kevin could hardly process the feelings that were going through him at the thought of his cousin getting clipped by Waylan in public, and when Thomas spoke up in a pitiful tone and begged Mr. Patterson not to circumcise him, Kevin was flushed with delight at the plight of his cousin.  A rare sensual pleasure coursed through his body, and his dick seemed to be gently pulsating on its own.

Kevin didn’t know what was going on.  He was not a sadist, as far as he knew.  He really did love his cousin.  He and Thomas really were almost lifelong friends.  He was not a monster.  He was a good person, who didn’t lie or cheat, at least not too much.  He had always cared about the plight of the underdog.  He would never knowingly harm an insect.  So what was going on and causing him to take pleasure with what was going on with his cousin?  What had caused him to dupe his caged cousin into giving him a blowjob?  Why the more distressed Thomas was, the more thrilling he found it?

Kevin tried to process his feelings, ‘Perhaps the euphoria I’m feeling is similar to the euphoria a horseman feels around horses.  Maybe I’m just naturally drawn towards handling slaves.  Maybe I’m meant to be in the slave business.’

Kevin’s thoughts were interrupted when he saw Mr. Dayton’s car pass through a back alley.  He spoke to Mr. Patterson, “Mr. Patterson, I see that Mr. Dayton has arrived.  I know he will be eager to get over here, but I need to speak briefly with him before he visits Tommy.  It was very nice meeting you and Waylan.”

Mr. Patterson smiled, “The same here.  You’re a fine young man.  Please feel free to come and visit Tommy whenever you would like.  If he’s on the exercise wheel or in hard labor training he won’t be able to visit with you, but I think it would be a real boost to his spirit just to have you around watching.”

Mr. Patterson nodded to Kevin, who was about to leave, but slowed his exit when he heard Mr. Patterson address Waylan, “Son.  I have some things to do before Mr. Dayton gets here, so why don’t you barrel Tommy for now.”

Waylan nodded, went to the side of the house, picked up a large barrel made of strong molded plastic, and brought it to where Mr. Patterson was standing.  Kevin stopped in his tracks to watch.

Waylan went up to Thomas, put his hand on his shoulder, and guided him to the barrel.  The lid of the barrel had three large screw knobs.  Waylan opened them, took off the lid, and told Thomas to get in the barrel.  Thomas paused slightly, but eventually stepped in.  Waylan put his hand on his shoulder and pushed downwards, “Now squat down so I can put the lid on.”  Thomas did.  The barrel was large enough to accommodate a squatting slave.  Waylan put the lid on the slave barrel and screwed on the lid.

The mesmerized Kevin finally asked, “What is that?”

Mr. Patterson patted the barrel, “It’s a state of the art slave barrel.  It comes in really handy when you’re called away, and you need to secure your slave for an indefinite amount of time.  It’s totally impenetrable and slave safe.”

Mr. Patterson and Kevin again nodded their ‘goodbyes’.  As Kevin walked to his Uncle Phil’s house, and felt his cock struggling in his pants with a life of its own, he wondered how many more dick-hardening delights were to be found at Mr. Patterson’s.

To be continued...

Posted: 01/24/14