Christopher Enslaved
for Life at the Age of 22

By: Randall Austin
(© 2011 by the author)

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

Chapter 8
The Post-Processing Room

Once Christopher was dressed he was shoved through a door into another room, and it was then that I heard my name called over the intercom to report to post-processing. I left the viewing area, went down the steps, and followed the signs that led me to post-processing.

In the stairway leading to post-processing, an advertisement read: "Slave training special: Is your slave or team getting lax? Perhaps it's time you took advantage of one of our slave training/retraining and motivational courses. 5 days, $500. You will see the results in your bankbook with a renewed and dedicated slave force."

When I entered the post-processing area, there was Christopher, and on seeing him up close I was doubtless in as much shock as he was. For a moment all I could do was stare at his totally shaved bald head, his big nose ring, his shiny ear rings, his ugly brown uniform, his sturdy sandals, his goofy cone hat, his dazed and frightened look. He frightened me. I wanted to back away, and run off.

As I stared at him, dazed, the intercom sounded, "Balboa, Jumper, Scamp, Doodles, Wiener, Spitz, and Chowder, report to room 21 for your penis dyeing."

The post processing area was a very large room full of slaves, some of whom were with their owners and overseers, who were leaving the SBGF. No matter what business they had at the facility, all slaves must exit from this room. A long line was slowly making its ways out towards the wide open bay of loading dock doors at the far end. Along the way were various stations which inquired of various slaves and their overseers various things as they passed. Police, station guards, and processor apprentices were everywhere. Most of the processor apprentices appeared to be kids a few years out of high school, who probably weren't planning on going to college.

A kid about 20 years old, wearing the processor's apprentice uniform of black slacks, black boots, pressed cream shirt, black tie, black vest, a heavily tooled service belt, and an ID tag with the name Tim Sardis, came up to Christopher and attached a leash to his collar. He then looked at me, and said, "You're Todd, right?" "Yes, I am," I responded.

"The newly enslaved, fresh off the hook, are often a danger to themselves. Because they don't know slave protocol, they often react with some very unslavelike behavior, such as talking, or not walking in a service gait, all behavior that would get any slave tawsed or paddled on the spot here at SBGF. That's why we 'cone head' all fresh product. The guards go easier on them. Hell, some newly enslaved guys fresh off the hook are super uppity. It's funny, really. They still think they are free men. They're all incensed, and think they have some kind of right to talk, or to piss when they want to, or even get on the phone and call their girlfriends."

When Sardis mentioned the word "girlfriend", I suddenly thought of Katherine, Christopher's long time girlfriend. They were all set to room together at graduate school this coming fall. And without thinking, I blurted out, "Gosh, Christopher. What about Katherine? What should I do?" Christopher's face flashed a deeply pained look, and he seemed to be too overwhelmed to respond. He seemed like he was about to break down and cry.

Sardis answered for us. "Dude, slaves do NOT have girlfriends! And at Baldwin/Fletcher they do not get to use the telephone, ever. If you want to be a real friend, Todd, you'd best get on the phone when you get home and call this Katherine with the story. Tell her that Licker here is out of the picture. He isn't going to be hitting the clubs anymore." He lowered his voice and leaned toward me: "Todd, if you ever had any interest in this Katherine person, now would be the time to make the moves on her. She's alone and vulnerable. You may find yourself having to do caretaking duty for a brand new pussy." He winked, but I ignored the vulgar remark.

Sardis continued, "Another neat service provided to friends and family members of slaves by SBGF is the Online Slave Database. A password is given to friends and family members of slaves so they can have access to the latest information available. All they have to do is call SBGF to get registered. On a regular basis, SBGF updates the slave's status reports, info on where he's serving, evaluation reports, discipline reports, and so on. Also full body shots are updated almost monthly so friends and family can gauge the health and development of the products. In the case of hard labor slaves, a lot of gals find the regularly updated pics of the naked slave's burgeoning muscles to be real hot frigging material.

"I know, also, that the Baldwin's have a web site with a lot of their team in colorful costumes. Licker will probably be showing up on that real soon.

"His pics will also be on the city web site, which is a real handy service for shoppers and family members alike. Slaves pictures are posted and updated on a regular basis to help prevent runaways; to let the slave's family know pretty well what condition he's in, since there's a rule that the slave must have a complete set of photos taken every time there's a significant body modification so that they're spared the trouble of visiting or inquiring; to let the slave know that he's significant, that people are interested in him; and finally and most importantly, to facilitate pre-auction shopping.

"But if the former girlfriend wants to check out the drudge in person, tell her she can always drive by the Baldwin/Fletcher farms, since he'll be on display working out in the fields pretty much seven days a week from sunrise to sunset."

"But anyway Licker, you need to get girls and girlfriends out of your head, or you are not going to be producing the way top line material is expected to produce."

Sardis then yanked Christopher sideways to pull him into an open area and said, "Ok, we need to hurry and give you some preliminaries so we can ship you off. We want to get you out of here as quickly as possible. Product sitting around here in the warehouse isn't generating income for its owners, is it?"

"Licker, you're a brand new, squeaky clean, slave. You're pretty raw though. With the right care and training you should be bringing in a lot of cash for Baldwin/Fletcher, at least for the next twenty years or so. By the time they bring you back here for reprocessing, in about 4 months, you should be looking a good bit more like the other heavily muscled draft members of their field teams."

"But my job here is to do anything I can do in the way of offering tips or suggestions, while paper work is being finalized and we're waiting for your transport to arrive, to help turn you into that top producer for Baldwin/Fletcher that I know you will want to be. The Baldwin's have their own way of training slaves, of course, as you'll soon find out. But one thing all slaves need to know is the 'service gait.' 'Service gait' is the way a slave walks formally when not at labor. It just means you walk one step at a time, you don't move your next foot until the previous foot has fully landed on the ground, you never raise a foot more than a half inch off the ground while taking a step, and as you walk you keep your arms akimbo. Let's try it!"

With the leash in his left hand, he took the tawse from his belt and slapped Christopher on the buttocks to make him move. He commanded Christopher to do the service gait, in a circle around him as he occasionally prodded him on the butt to move him along. After one particularly hard swat Christopher jumped and lifted a foot off the ground. Sardis was waiting for that, and said, "You seem to need a little reminder that you will take small steps quickly, but you cannot move your next foot until the previous foot has stopped. Take down your pants and get em around your ankles. That'll lock your feet into place." Christopher did so, too frightened and shamed to protest. The apprentice then swatted Christopher's ass a fierce one to get him moving. The motion of the legs rapidly sliding on the floor caused his cock to swing and his bell to start ringing. "That's the way boy, let's tinkle your bell."

The sight of my friend so utterly debased by a kid in a uniform sent chills through me, yet at the same time I felt there was no more I could do. A sense of defeat came over me, and along with it, resignation. I needed to stop being upset and just accept that things were different now.

Hearing the bell, a couple of the processor apprentices who didn't have too much to do looked at us and came over and joined in where the action was. "Who's the cone head you got on the leash, Tim?", asked a dark haired kid with the ID name of Andrew Morelli.

"His name is Licker. The name makes me think that the Baldwin's have some real interesting chores planned for him." All three apprentices let out loud laughs. Then Tim gave a hard swat of the tawse across Christopher's shoulders. Christopher yelped in pain and pistoned his legs to move even faster. The three laughed and erected at Christopher shuffling along, trying to avoid another swat of the tawse. Tim's boner was very intently poking straight forward in his trousers.

And strangest of all to me, I found myself starting to stir at the sight of my totally humiliated, defeated, enslaved for life friend. What had come over me?

"So, a brand new slave, huh?", asked Andrew, as he and Phil looked Licker over with a look of "you sorry loser". "Are they using him in the fields?", asked Andrew.

"That's what he's on order for." Then addressing Christopher, Tim continued, "So Licker, dude, it looks like you're going to have a chance to work on your tan!" The apprentices all laughed at Tim's witty remark as he continued guiding Christopher in circles by the leash. As he did so, he took his tawse to the underside of Christopher's scrotum and lifted it, gently teasing his balls up and down. "These things feel pretty heavy, boy! They're just going to get in your way dangling between your legs out in the fields. Just an extra piece of useless work load. Just more to carry around. You'd be better off if they'd sliced these sweetmeats off while you were on the hook, since the Baldwin boys aren't going to let you use them anyway. I bet you used to tug on this bag while you were jerking, didn't you, boy, huh?" All three laughed, as Andrew and Phil both readjusted their crotches.

Phil then said, "Well, at least they didn't have his teeth removed. It looks like the Baldwin's aren't planning on turning him into one of their 'turkey boys', their full time sucking dick-gobblers." "At least not yet!", responded Tim as all three let out loud hoots.

To be continued...

Posted: 04/15/11