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Chapter 2. Meet Hunter Fisher.

My Saturday morning started out with breakfast, chatting
and joking with my brothers. They can't admit that I'm
by far the most popular of the four of us, if you count
the twins as two people. I can't really blame them for
envying me: everybody does.

Anyways, I said goodbye and went off to baseball practice.
There's been some competition but I've been the pitcher
the last two years. I had to really fight to keep it
this year though; I think I would have won naturally,
but I got worried and just planted some drugs in the
other pitcher's locker. I felt bad about it, but then I
remembered that I wouldn't get caught, and I decided not
to think about it any more.

The coach was kind-of annoying. He was always emphasizing
team-work and cooperation even though it was pretty obvious
that I was the one keeping the team afloat.

Instead of focusing on scoring wins, the coach would
deliver monologues about the importance of team work,
or honesty, or grades. I didn't really see the need
for book learning myself, so I often sat on the verge of
academic disqualification. The solution was pretty simple:
teachers don't make much money so I'd buy them lavish gifts.
They might have resisted the bribes, but I wasn't trying
to get straight As, and most of them were happy to find
excuses to avoid failing me.

One major thorn in my side was my math teacher. He was a
hard grader, so I tried my best to butter him up. At first,
he eyed the gifts with suspicion, and I noticed that,
if anything, he was grading more harshly than ever! Dad
wanted to hire a tutor, but I came up with a better idea:
I had our lawyer hire a private detective, who quickly got
pictures of him entering the seediest gay club in town.
Score! The next day I gave him a manila envelope with
some choice photos, saying "I really hope my math scores
are getting better!" I'm pretty sure he got the message;
our little Florida town is viciously homophobic.

Anyways, I mostly hated the coach, even though I also
was careful to stay on his good side. That mostly
meant persuading other teammates to "prank" him so that I
wouldn't get caught. My favorite was this nerdy guy Kevin
who always was trying to get on my good side. I decided
to take advantage of our rapport and I convinced him it'd
be funny to put exlax in the coach's coffee. He actually
did it: the poor guy took like 15 bathroom breaks during
that practice. Everybody on the team was laughing about
it, the kid couldn't stop from telling them about his
exploits! So then I ratted the kid out: I just wanted
him off the team. I felt pretty smart about this one!

As pitcher, I had a nickname for every member of the team,
usually a bit of a taunt. Actually, I guess are kind-of
mean, like "wheezy" or "short-stuff", but hey, everybody
was laughing when I said it.

After practice, it was time to pay my girlfriend a booty
call. It was actually getting a bit late and I needed to
be home since dad wanted to have a private talk. But my
girlfriend was super-horny and wanted a long session.

* * *

In the end, I didn't have a choice: I had to get back and
I had to get off. So, I fucked her hard and fast. My dick
exploded under a minute after we started: it wasn't great
sex but I felt good afterward. She was begging me to stay:
she was wildly horny by now: the sex had been more like
foreplay for her. But I bailed and biked home. She left
me like thirty angry text messages: what a bitch! Oh well,
I knew she'd get over it. She'd been way more upset when
she had to get the abortion, but she got over that too.

I was sweaty and a bit disheveled, but I knew dad wouldn't
really care. I hurried to his office: I was ten minutes
late. He was there, waiting.

"Did you have a nice day Hunter?" Dad began with niceties,
but quickly got down to business. "As you may have
noticed, I've been pruning our expenses."

"Like the selling the slaves?" I observed.

"Exactly, and a bunch of other expenses. I had to borrow
a ton of money to make an investment, and I still need
more cash. It'll pay off eventually, probably within the
year, but there may be some hard times ahead for us."

"Then there's a matter of a criminal fraud investigation, a
complicated affair that I deeply regret. I was sure I had
gotten away with it, but there's new rumors of subpoenas
and depositions. I've been making plans to provide for
you if I get sent down the river. To make matters worse,
there were a number of deaths associated with the case, but
I think it's unlikely I'd get the death penalty for fraud."

"Jesus, Dad, that's terrible." I was stunned by the
insanely bad news. finances, so I didn't have much
to offer.

Dad seemed nervous, but added: "Anyway, I seriously don't
think they'll catch up to me: I've concealed the evidence
pretty well."

"These were difficult gambles that I needed to make for
our long-term security. But our short-term cash problem
is very real and immediate. So, this means I'm going
to have to make the difficult decision to sell Clarence
into slavery. We should make enough with just a five year
term and limited-use."

"Limited-Use?" It was a legal term meaning servants that
wouldn't be used for sex. "Who'd want to have sex with
Clarence anyways?"

Dad looked a bit miffed at the question: "Slavery will
get him into shape, you'll see. Anyways, slavers have
diverse tastes. We want someone who will be a good fit
for Clarence. We need to start shopping for a buyer,
if you want to help me."

"Oh hell yeah, anything to get that weirdo out of the
house." I paused and considered what he had just said:
"Maybe we should focus on cash, and not stress out about
if it's a 'good fit for Clarence'."

"Yeah, in fact, I completely agree -- if, as I suspect,
he's not even my son. I'm getting a paternity test done
to find out."

"Wow! We should have done this a long time ago."

"Hunter, he's still your brother - be respectful! In any
event, we'll tell him day-after tomorrow when I get the
test results. Tonight, we'll have dinner out to celebrate.
Do not talk about the enslavement!"

"Of course not, Dad! He'd probably run away!"

We adjourned our meeting. Between the sex and my dad's
secret, I was feeling almost high with self-satisfaction.
We went to a fancy steakhouse - Dad let Clarence choose.
As usual, Clarence can't even choose a restaurant. All my
food was wrong, and I had to send it back. Everyone seemed
too stupid to see how bad it was.

The conversation was just as annoying. Clarence was
talking about the slave laws calling them "an abomination"
but Dad and I were defending the ideas of stratifying
society. Clarence mentioned the "brutal slave conditions"
and I rolled my eyes in annoyance.

"Like getting blow-jobs," I retorted, knowing Clarence
wouldn't want Dad to find out about the incident. "Maybe
you should get some first-hand experience at slavery and
find out!" I didn't think Clarence would connect that
this was a serious threat but dad gave me the angry stare
for alluding to it.

Anyways, everyone else seemed to have a good time, but I
was just so excited about Clarence's enslavement that I
couldn't relax.

* * *

The next morning I jogged and goofed around the house
before going to my friend Charlie's house. He's from
another wealthy slave-owning family. We've grown up
together: he's really more of a brother to me than
Clarence.

He'd stolen a six-pack of beer from his dad, and we
drank it furtively in his room before venturing out,
fairly buzzed.

We walked by our school, for no reason. We were accosted
by an anti-slave activist, a liberal black dude I had
English class with. He was giving the usual spiel, but I
interrupted him: "Watch out, we never should have freed
your sorry asses to begin with." He was taken aback,
so I finished it off by dropping the N-word. My friend
Charlie was laughing at the dude, and gave me a fist-bump.

"Y'all's a bunch of rascists," the dude was pissed, but
decided to try to find somebody else to bother.

We decided to cut through the school, and we could see
8th-grade swim-team training.

We talked a while about what losers they were, and then
he dared me to sneak in and steal their clothes from the
locker room. I looked at my watch and could see they
had just started practice. It was a Sunday so nobody was
around. "I accept your challenge, captain," I announced
with mock-formality and a salute.

I knew the lockers were grouped by class and team so
finding the lockers was easy. I stuffed all the clothes
into my backpack and hauled out of there. We figured
we'd come back at the end of the class to watch everyone
freak out.

As we were walking along a bridge, a police car bleeped
his siren. There was nowhere to run so we complied with
the officer. He handcuffed us and opened the backpack,
seeing the clothes.

Apparently, I'd been caught on the security camera in the
locker room. They had a video of the "theft" and they'd
called the police immediately: the police acted quickly
because they can get a bonus if an arrest leads to an
enslavement and a valuable sale. Still, for such a petty
crime I was sure Dad would bail me out.

I tried to pin the crime on Charlie, but he was just
silent. The cops said, "All the evidence is against you,
Hunter. You are the only person on the tape, and you had
the goods in possession at the time of arrest. Charlie is
free to go, because we aren't charging him with a crime."

In about an hour, Dad and Clarence showed up at the station
and posted bail. I could tell Dad was beyond pissed.
I could also see he was freaking out - I remembered the
financial situation and gulped.

When we got home, Mr Keller, the family lawyer was
waiting for us. Good, I thought, he'll know what to do!
He looked somber.

We ventured into dad's office. Mr Keller had to make a
phone call outside first. I thought about how cocky I'd
been coming out of his office yesterday. Now, I felt like
puking from stress.

Dad began: "Hunter, I can't believe you did this.
After our discussion yesterday about Clarence, you must
have realized how tenuous things were."

I was a bit aghast that he mentioned the Clarence
situation. But I decided that throwing him under the bus
was my best bet. "Can't we just make Clarence's indenture
permanent for cash?"

I could see Clarence grimace as I tried to make him take
my punishment. He probably didn't want me to desparately
mention that he was gay for fear Dad would enslave him.

I decided to go for it: "Dad, I walked in on Clarence
blowing a servant. It's disgusting and wrong and you know
it: you must enslave him for it!" Just then Mr Keller
walked in with two burly guards. I thought I should make
a run for it but they blocked the exit.

"You won't want to slander free men anymore." Mr Keller
said, "Your rights as a free-man as now rescinded."
Everybody knew these were the words that marked when a
parent decided to enslave their child.

"Dad this is totally f---" I protested, but I was cut short
by the slave-cop zapping me with his miniature cattle prod
that is standard issue for slave control. I can see why:
the combination of pain and disorientation is really hard
to get used to, but it's also quite temporary.

"Do you need to be so harsh?" Dad asked with genuine concern.

"Sir, we need to you maintain professional distance if
you're going to use this slave as collateral."

One of the slave-cops attached a simple, temporary collar
to my neck, while the other held the electric cattle prod
at the ready. "These new slaves can be quite jumpy," he
explained. Resistance seemed hopeless though, and I didn't
fight back. They locked wrist cuffs around each wrist.

"Permission to speak, sir?" I asked hoping I could get
some explanation.

The slave cop said, "I wouldn't indulge a new slave like
this if I were you..."

But dad allowed me to speak: "What do you mean by
collateral? Why can't we enslave Clarence?"

The slave cop again said, "You are really taking an
inappropriately familiar tone with this property."

Dad persisted in answering though: he was going to use
me as collateral on a bank loan. As long as he paid it
back, I'd stay with my family, serving them. He didn't
exactly explain the terms if he failed to make payments.
Still, with Dad in charge, I figured it'd be easy, and I
wasn't so nervous.

"Your comments make it sound like this is a sham indenture.
If you continue, I may have to report it, which could
cause your loan to be rejected." He sounded like he
was getting annoyed. "Next step is to strip the slave."
He turned to me: "Strip."

"Dad..." I began to complain but was once again shocked.

"I'm going to report this infraction." The slave cop
locked my wrists to the back of my collar. Then he pushed
a gag in my mouth and buckled it in back of my head.
"That should stop any more infractions."

He took out a knife and cut my T-shirt off. "Do you want
to help him out of his pants or should I cut them off?"

Clarence was pretty handsy as he removed my belt, pants,
shoes, socks and underwear. I could see he was sporting
wood in his pants and was probably enjoying the view of
my ass. Anyway, now I was completely naked. With my
hands bound to my collar, I couldn't even cover myself
at all. But I had learned that slaves aren't allowed to
cover themselves anyway, and I knew the cop would love to
find another infraction.

One of the cops got out a thing that looked like a
gun. I recognized it as a GPS chipping device. I was
restrained and held so it couldn't resist: they injected
it between my neck and shoulder. I knew now that escape
was impossible.

Mr Keller glanced at his watch: "It appears to be just
barely too late to get Hunter to the slave processing
center today: the latest they can accept is 2pm, that was
five minutes ago. It'll have to be tomorrow. Can one of
you get a transport cage for him to sleep in?"

"Is that really necessary?" my dad asked the lawyer.

"Oh yes, believe me, it's asking for trouble to have an
unprocessed slave out of the cage. It's a bit unfortunate,
since we can't get any training in, but we'll take him to
the processing center at 8am tomorrow morning."

The transport cage was disturbing small; my first
experience with long cramped confinement. The lawyer's
and the cops agreed to be back tomorrow, and they left me
alone with dad and Clarence.

Clarence asked Dad: "Were you really going to sell me to
another household?"

"Oh Clarence, much as I love you, I was nearing bankrupcy.
I just didn't have a choice. It was just for five years,
limited-use. I tried to get the bank to accept you as
collateral, so that you could have a home-indenture,
but they said you were too out of shape. Honestly, I
probably should have just enslaved Hunter from the start,
but I just couldn't bring myself to."

Clarence laughed: "So you mean that never working out got
me out of being used as collateral?" He kicked my cage:
"Hey, did you hear that? Glad you stayed in shape -
we'll really appreciate it."

"Clarence don't be rude. Hunter's making an incredible
sacrifice for us."

"Well, not by choice. He's just an idiot for committing
the world's dumbest crime."

"Ok, I'm not going to defend that. Maybe we should hear
Hunter's perspective on it?"

"Actually, the slave cop mentioned that he locked the gag
and cuffs on: he specifically guessed you'd try to take
them off. You'd better be careful that you don't piss
that guy off."

"I know, I know. It's just so shockingly sudden."

I was pretty pissed off that I couldn't discuss anything
with Clarence and Dad because of the gag. I could see it
had only been 30 minutes on Dad's clock. There was still
about 17 hours to go before I got picked up, and who knows
how long until I was un-caged and un-gagged. Ugh.

Clarence left and Dad just ignored me, until he left.
He sounded like he was holding back tears when he said
"Good night, Hunter," turned off the lights, and went
to bed.