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 16
Todd Visits Licker

My first visit out to the Baldwin/Fletcher Farms since Christopher had been enslaved could only be arranged two months later, in June. I was busy with final exams in college, and the days when I happened to be available turned out to be, according to Joshua Holder, head of the slave compound at Baldwin/Fletcher, days when Licker (the former Christopher) was not free for visits.

Finally a date was set for the second week of my summer vacation. I drove out to Baldwin/Fletcher in my dad's graduation present to me, a new Jeep Wrangler. I was allowed to visit at 11 AM on a Tuesday. For the visit they were letting Licker off from field duty an hour early, and they were going to let us have lunch together before Christopher had to return to the fields at 1 PM. I arrived at quarter to 11 and Trevor Humphries, the Baldwin boys' chief overseer and advisor, met me. He was very friendly to me and inquired about my studies and my plans for the summer. I told him that after my visit I was going to be spending the rest of the day at the beach with my buddies.

Right at 11 I saw Licker arriving, escorted by Joshua Holder. Joshua came up and shook my hand, and he, Trevor, and I chatted briefly, while Licker stood silently at attention, in back of Joshua.

Licker was naked, and wearing a fancy harness, different from the one they had put him in on his first day as a slave. (He later told me that he had eight different harnesses.) He looked as though he had been freshly shaved that morning, and his body was shiny and glistening with oil and sweat, though his legs were grimy with dirt. He wore sandals with straps that came up about six inches on the leg. He had a white velvet ribbon cinching his cock and balls, which made them stick up and out, a ribbon tied in a bow that dangled beneath his balls. From his cock hung a large silver bell that tinkled with his every move. He wore a headdress of feathers and beads. His lips were colored red, and his cheeks and nipples were rouged. I could tell he was very embarrassed at having me see him decked out like a parade boy in his field display get-up. He looked almost like something from a tawdry Las Vegas male review, especially since his costume contrasted so much with my casual summer clothes of shorts, gold and black t-shirt, and sneakers.

Trevor took his leave and Joshua escorted Licker and me to a bench by a tree where we could sit and visit. Joshua then reached down to Licker's penis and removed his bell, saying, "I'll take this off so you two can chat in peace." When Joshua left, I embraced Licker, and he responded with a long hug. We parted from our embrace and sat down. It was then I noticed he had an erection. He was very embarrassed and put his arms in his lap to cover it, but I said, "Hey, that's no big deal. I saw a bunch of you field slaves working as I drove up here. A lot of people probably get to see your goods."

It was well intended, but it was the wrong thing to say. It made Licker look down in shame, and I apologized. He said it was nothing, and asked how I was; but no sooner had we started a conversation than I saw Trevor returning. He came up to us and Licker immediately hopped to attention, sticking his chest and his pelvis out as far as he could in slave salute. His cock was bobbing, still erect. On seeing Licker's dick, Trevor asked, "Slave, where is your bell?" And Licker, shouting, replied, "Sir, Mr. Ryan removed it so Todd and I could converse, Sir!" Trevor explained the reason for his interruption. "Licker, Retcher has a chore he wants to use you for after dinner, so go right now to the nearest scrub station, get hosed down, and change into your uniform. I want to make sure you don't keep Retcher waiting after dinner. Go change, then come back here to Todd."

"Sir, yes sir!" With that, Licker went off. As he hurried off, doubtless to please Trevor, I could see some bruises on his buttocks.

Alone with Trevor, I asked how Licker was doing. "Licker," he said, "has been doing pretty much everything he is told to do. He has been on very good behavior, because he is very fearful of punishment. He has not accepted his enslavement. He pretends to, for us; but he hasn't. On the outside, he obeys. On the inside, he is seething with resentment. He is humiliated by almost everything he has to do. If he could get over that useless pride of his, accept the fact that he's a slave, that he will be a slave for the rest of his life, he would be content. If you have any influence with him, if you really care about him, you might want to have a 'talk' with him about this."

"But if you are asking how he is doing on a more personal level, you would have to ask Joshua or Retcher that question. I really don't pay too much attention to slaves from that standpoint of how they are adjusting and so on. My job is simply to provide the Baldwin's with the best business advice available to keep things running. If a slave is slacking, I'll suggest that it's time to replace it. Joshua and the Baldwin boys can then weigh in with any personal matters regarding the slave. When you see as many slaves as I do, one slave begins to look exactly like another."

Trevor's answer made me nervous. I knew him to be someone who treated free people, all free people, even the homeless, with great respect. Slaves were another matter. To him, they were nothing but business products, like office machines.

After a little more chatting Licker returned in his brown slave fatigues and plain sandals. When he arrived, he had to acknowledge Trevor with the slave salute of standing tall with his pelvis and chest thrust out and his arms at his side. Trevor completely ignored Licker, but as he left he said to me, "Take care, Todd. And have a super time at the beach. It's a fantastic day to be hanging out. And I hope you have a great summer vacation." "I certainly plan on it," I said. "The very start of the summer vacation," he replied, "was the part I always liked. Knowing you had three months ahead of you to just hang out and kick back at the beach, and do nothing, it was great!" As he walked off we nodded good-bye. Then Licker and I sat back down on the bench under the shade tree.

He seemed a lot more comfortable, now that he was clothed, but in a way it made me more uncomfortable. It made him look like a standard issue slave. And that's what he was, and what he would always be. A common slave.

I had a lot of questions I wanted to ask him, but I was hesitant to ask because I was sure that any answer he gave would embarrass him. I knew Trevor was right. Licker hated being a slave, and more than anything he found the humiliation of it the most unbearable part. Since he was, after all, just a product now, at the bottom of the totem pole, he was doubtless treated like crap on a regular basis. In fact, in society's eyes, one couldn't get much lower. But I wanted to know about the things that humiliated him. How often was he punished and chastised, and by what methods? Was he spanked like a little boy, and how often was he spanked? Were any of the overseers' kind? Did he have slave friends? What did they do for fun, if anything? Was there really no opportunity to masturbate, and what would happen if you got caught doing it? I had no idea about any of it, actually.

As I pondered how to form the questions so as to spare him further humiliation, I noticed there were a lot of free men walking along a path not far from us, a path leading to the parking lot. They looked like laborers dressed in Levis and work shirts. They obviously were not slaves. So I asked Licker who they were.

"They are cannery workers. They are getting off their shift at the cannery. About a fourth of the workers in the cannery are free men. They use them to help oversee and keep the slaves in line."

"They all look like thugs and low life's". I said. "I sure wouldn't want them bossing me around." And I knew that once again I had said the wrong thing. It was getting awfully hard to say the right thing around Licker.

Two of the cannery workers passed by, each carrying lunch pails. One of them looked at us, and I heard him say to his partner, "There's a slave." Then they both turned and approached us. The taller of the two, a curly haired Italian jock, said, "Slave, I need to piss." Licker immediately hopped up, got in front of the jock, knelt down, gathered his arms behind his back, turned his head straight up, and opened his mouth as wide as he could. The jock unzipped, pulled his large cut dick out, and carefully placed the tip into Licker's mouth. Licker's lips immediately enclosed it, and the guy started peeing full force, with Licker performing a continual on/off swallowing. Licker had obviously done well in slave urinal class, because he was able to swallow every drop of it. The jock's friend, who was waiting nearby, looked at me and said, "Nice day, huh?" "It's a great day," I replied, aimlessly. The jock finished peeing, and I could hear Licker sucking out the piss slit. Then the workman pulled his dick out of Licker's mouth, put it away, zipped up, and walked off with his friend without acknowledging Licker's existence any more than you acknowledge the existence of a restroom toilet, once you've relieved yourself.

Licker got up and came back and sat next to me on the bench. There was a faint smell of piss. I wanted to ask him about that. But how? Finally I just let it out. "Man, that was unbelievable! Would you ever believe you'd be out in public every day, drinking the piss of any blue collar worker who happens to come along?"

"It isn't bad. It is good to provide a service," Licker said quietly, looking at the ground.

"Fuck man!" I said. "I can smell that guy's piss on your breath, and you're telling me it isn't bad?"

"We all do it. It's normal here. People have always done that as a sign of service," Licker offered, somewhat feebly.

"So you don't mind doing it?"

"No."

I was getting angry. "Licker, you are not being honest with me. You are only drinking piss because you have to do it. Yet you are trying to tell yourself and me that you are doing it because you want to do it and enjoy doing it. Isn't dishonesty to a free man a punishable offense for slaves? And you are a slave! So tell the truth! You were totally humiliated by having that guy piss in your mouth. Just admit it to me!"

Licker kept looking down, and tears started falling down his face. He said nothing.

"Just admit that things have changed, that you're a slave now and you'll always be a slave, that you hate it, you hate your slavery! Admit that this is your life, and it shames you and humiliates you, and you hate every minute of it!" Licker was crying. "You can't admit it? Does that mean you like being a slave?"

Still no reaction except the tears, so I continued: "Do you want me to call one of those tawse-bearing overseers over here and report you for failing to answer my question? For lying to me? For lying to a free man? That's two infractions... Will two infractions get your punishment doubled? Answer my questions! Or does your silence mean you want me to call that overseer over here?"

He kept crying, and I was more mystified than ever. I also felt sorry for him. Maybe he really was unclear, undecided about certain things, certain aspects of his new life and status. Maybe it was all a nightmare to him, a nightmare from which he hoped to awake. Maybe he expected to wake up in the slave barracks one morning and discover that it was not the slave barracks, that it was his old room back home, and that the clothes he had to put on that day were not his coarse, ugly, brown slave fatigues but the soft, casual sports clothes that once made him look so attractive. Of course, that morning would never come. Poor, miserable, slave Licker! I put my arm around him and said, "I love you, Licker." Then he smiled, his crying stopped, and I saw his erection stir in his uniform. I wanted to ask him about that, but I decided there would be no more questions for today. I looked into his beautiful teary slave eyes, and thought, "I wouldn't mind pissing in his mouth."

After some quiet time, I said, "I like being around you now even more than I did before." We relaxed then, and just sat together under the shade tree.

To be continued...

Posted: 05/13/11