My Brother Tony, the Penury Slave

Part Five

By Randall Austin

This story is erotic fiction meant for mature readers and should only be read by adults over the age of eighteen years old. Please do not use my stories without my permission and please forward all comments to randallaustin2011@hotmail.com

Randall Austin’s Archive Group: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Randall_Austin_Stories

Tony, awkward on the auction block, finally removed

his hands from covering himself and let them fall to

his sides, as the auctioneer ordered.  Seeing Tony

comply with his request, the auctioneer began, “Ok,

finally, ladies and gentleman, you can get a good look

at Tony DeStasio.”  As he mentioned Tony’s name Tony’s

head dropped in shame and he stared at his feet.  The

auctioneer had to stop and instruct Tony again, “Young

man, stand tall and look straight ahead or else I’m

going to have one my assistants help you to comply.

Now stand up nice and tall for all the good folks here

who came out to see you today.”

Tony was finally able to stand tall and look straight

ahead as instructed only by biting his lower lip.  He

was blushing and sweating.  I saw Eric Madonna in the

crowd smiling at Tony’s humiliation.  “That a boy!”

the auctioneer smiled.  “As I said, ladies and

gentleman, this is Tony DeStasio and he comes from a

fine family.  Without even reading the medical report

you can see that he is in prime health.”  Addressing

Tony, the auctioneer continued.  “Ok, Tony, now raise

your arms as high above your head as they will go, and

spread your fingers wide.  Show everyone your arm

pits.  Good boy! – Ok, as you can see, Tony is blue

tagged for a very good reason; he is simply top grade

slave material.  Now, Tony, turn around so we all

can get a good look at your behind. Good.  Very nice

skin.”

“Next, Tony, turn around, arms down, face the folks,

and I want you to bring yourself to an erection.”

Tony was silent and looked down.  Probably used to

the fact that few freshly enslaved boys are able to

easily comply with this request, an auction boy was

ready and came up to Tony, and with a gloved hand

grabbed Tony’s cock and started pumping.  In no time

Tony was huge.  “Nice one!  Real nice.”  Tony shut his

eyes.

“Ok Tony, I want you to start running in place. 

That’s the way!  Now bring your knees up higher and

swing your arms more.”  Tony’s did as he was ordered,

and was red in the face the whole time, as he ran in

place, with his large red knobbed erection bobbing

wildly and slapping his leg.  “Look at him go to town

folks, this is an item that wants to please.  Good

boy, Tony!”

As I watched Tony go through the paces I was totally

ashamed, as well as embarrassed for Tony and my whole

family.  But finally I thought that maybe this is just

what Tony needed, and if only mom and dad had gotten

after him and used a little old fashioned discipline

he wouldn’t have to be here now.  A part of me was

also angry with Tony for bringing on this

embarrassment to the family.  I was angry, but I still

loved him and felt for him.

The auctioneer did a little sales pitch, “This is a

strong lad up here folks, and he can be worked as much

as you like.  Here in Oklahoma we don’t have any fancy

laws telling us what we can and can’t do with our

property.  No sir!  Here in the heartland of the good

ol’ USA we are still free, and pride ourselves on that

fact.  This is god’s country after all, and property

is property. If you own it you can do with it as you

please.”  The entire audience erupted into applause

at the auctioneer’s fundamentalist patriotism, which

mirrored their own.

“If you buy one of these boys it would be an excellent

chance for you to give them some bible training as

well.  Whip the bible truths into these poor wayward

slaves.”  More applause.  Buying slaves was not only

good for the economic health of the nation; it was

good for the spiritual health of the nation as well.

“The psychological profile on Tony is very

interesting.  It is based on interviews with Tony’s

family members.  It seems Tony had a vanity problem

for as long as any of them can remember. His oldest

brother once walked in on him in his room and caught

him masturbating to a video he had made of himself

dancing nude, with his body oiled up.”  The audience

was tittering.  “Well, well, Tony, then you should be

pretty happy with yourself right now, all oiled and on

display for the folks.  Would you like to dance for us

now?”  The audience roared with laughter.  When the

laughter died down, the auctioneer said, “I guess Tony

isn’t in the mood for dancing right now.  But

remember, folks, if you buy him, you can have him

dancing for you all you want, right in your own living

room.”

The opening bid was quite high, and not many voices

joined in.  But those that did vied at a fever pitch.

Within a minute the auctioneer announced, “Sold to Mr.

Blazer!”

An announcement then went out over the loudspeakers

like the ones that followed every sale; “Family

members of Anthony DeStasio, known as Tony DeStasio,

may meet his owner or owner’s representative at the

Bursar’s station to arrange visitation terms.”

Tony was quickly collected by the auction boys and

taken to the rear of the stage, where he was put into

a diaper, a three carnation corsage was clipped to his

right nipple, he was sprayed with cologne down his

front and backsides, a big yellow 2 by 6 inch card was

affixed to his left ear tag, which read ‘Slave

OK73642B, property of Edward Blazer’, a matching

colored tall cone cap was put on his head and affixed

by means of a chin strap, a large bell on a chain was

attached to the back of his collar and hung down his

back, and finally he was given a large 30 pound weight

to carry in his arms, and the weight had a chain

attached to it with a cuff at the end of it which was

attached to Tony’s right ankle.  He was then directed

to go to the front of the stage and walk down the

steps to the auction officials near the bursar at the

front of the stage.  The entire audience watched with

amusement the newly kitted slave, in his big diaper,

slowly making his way to the front of the stage.  He

was goofily obvious with his cone cap, his ringing

bell, and his waddling gait.  There was slave Tony

going to the front of the stage and down the stairs

off to his new life of being told what to do.  There

was Tony all made-up like a real slave, looking

totally servile and afraid.

And there at the bottom of the stage, Tony met his

owner, Mr. Edward Blazer, and an overseer of Mr.

Blazer by the name of Luke.  Mr. Blazer was a man who

looked like he knew how to get his money’s worth out

of a slave.  He was the man who now had the authority

to make Tony dance, oiled and naked, if he wanted.  Or

anything else he wanted him to do.  And there was

Tony, finally, a slave, about to pay the price for

being poor in America.

As my brothers and I went up to the bursar’s station I

kept my head down.  I was ashamed to have anyone see

my face, knowing my brother was now a slave.  When we

got to the bursar’s station we went up to Mr. Blazer

and introduced ourselves.  He was gracious to us, as

was his overseer Luke, a handsome kid about 28 years,

wearing khakis and a neat shirt, and holding a folded

black, state of the art, condor-plastic whip.  Tony

wanted attention, but we were listening to Mr. Blazer

tell us about Tony’s first day’s schedule, and asking

us if we would like to go out to the compound and see

Tony and his other two purchases of the day get

penned.  He said it was always nice for a slave to

have family members around at such a time.  We thought

so too, so we accepted Mr. Blazer’s offer to go and

check out Tony’s new digs.  So my brothers and I

accompanied Mr. Blazer, Luke, and the new slave to

their cargo van in the parking lot.  We walked at

Tony’s rather slow pace because he was carrying the

weight in his arms, which was awkward and heavy, and

the chain leading from the weight to his ankle cuff

allowed Tony to take only medium sized steps at best.

Even though I walked alongside Tony, we didn’t say

anything to each other.  He seemed to be dazed, and

there was really nothing to say at this point.

As we made our way to the van we heard Luke ask Mr.

Blazer if the new slaves should be ringed and branded

as soon as they got back to the compound, and how much

time he wanted the new slaves to have to heal before

he put them to work on the ‘floor’.

Mr. Blazer said he wanted the new slaves branded and

ringed immediately, and that Doctor Mannis said that

with the new antiseptics, the slaves could be put on

the ‘floor’ as soon after the processing as we wanted,

although he still wanted them to heal for a day or two

before being put on the ‘floor’.

As he explained this we approached a cargo van in the

parking lot with its doors open.  Two slaves like

Tony, in diapers, were chained in a standing position

outside the van by a one foot chain from their collar

to eye bolts on the side of the van.  Both slaves were

holding their slave weights in their arms and wore the

attention getting cone hat.  Each slave had a person

with them, perhaps a family member or friend.  And

working about the van were three young men.

One of the young men had an electric clipper in his

hands, and a woman standing next to a handsome,

skinny, blond, slave was talking to him.  We heard him

say, “I’m sorry, but I have to do this.”  The woman

then hugged the blond slave, they whispered things in

each other’s ears, they kissed, and she left in tears.

Mr. Blazer introduced us to his two sons, Brandon, 26,

Elliott, 23, who held the clippers, and his slave

medic, Noland Fawn, 35. 

Brandon came up to Tony, put a one-foot long leash on

his collar and led him to the side of the van next to

the other two slaves, and chained him to an eyebolt in

the side of the truck.  Now Tony, too, had to stand

very close to the truck holding his weight.  Three

slaves in a row, holding their slave weights, chained

close to the van, waiting to see what would happen

next.

Noland asked Mr. Blazer which was the slave that

needed to be circumcised.  Mr. Blazer said, “That

would be Tony there,” and pointed out Tony who stood

looking very frightened.  My brothers and I were

confused, since we were told that temporary slaves

couldn’t be body modified.  We didn’t know what to

say.

Elliott took the cone cap off of the skinny slave’s

head, turned the clippers on and put them to the back

of the slave’s head.  He buzzed a path straight

through the middle of his head.  The skinny slave just

stood there, looking defeated.  Elliott then widened

the center path so that the slave was totally buzzed

except for the hair at the side of his head.  He took

all the hair at the back of the head off, making the

slave look bald even without a shaving, except for two

clumps of hair on the side of his head.  He trimmed

around the two clumps of hair, so the clumps of hair

at the sides of his head were about 2 and a half

inches in diameter.  The slave looked ridiculous,

like a clown.

Standing next to the other blue coded slave (a cool

looking black haired hipster named Adam) was his quiet

friend, Joel.  Joel asked Elliott why he had to give

the slaves such demeaning haircuts.  Elliott answered

in dramatic fashion.  He unlocked the freshly buzzed

skinny slave’s chain from the side of the truck,

grabbed him by the blond clump of hair on the right

sight of his head, very roughly pulled the slave by

his hair clump and shouted, “Kneel!”  The slave did so

immediately, with a dumbfounded look and tears

welling.  As he took a razor to do some trimming to

the head of the kneeling slave, he explained.  “Did

you see how fast and easy that was?  If I had asked

him to come over to me he would have wondered where?

Here? Now? Like this?  I saved all that wasted time

and needless explanation.  In a fast paced work

environment such as these slaves will be working in,

we need to get information to slaves fast, and we do

it anyway we can, we use everything they got on their

bodies to communicate.  In short, the haircut is

practical.”

As Elliott explained the haircut, Noland Fawn came up

to Tony, still holding his weight and chained to the

van, and unfastened and removed his diaper. “Let me

see how much snipping I have to do.”  He took Tony’s

cock in both hands and pulled down on the foreskin,

gathering all of the foreskin at the cock tip.  “Oh

yeah.  A lot of skin is coming off of this one.”

Tony’s mouth was half open in a giant frown, and he

looked about as if he wanted to bolt.  Brandon

reaffirmed Noland’s comment, “You hear that Tony?

You’re getting skinned!”

Gabriel spoke up, “Pardon me, but it’s illegal to

modify temporary slaves.”  Mr. Blazer, who had been

signing documents, walked back over to us and answered

reassuringly.  “Gabriel, I assure you it is for Tony’s

own good.  When family members try to delay the

process the judge always rules in our favor because it

is a health and job safety issue.  State guidelines

always overrule county rulings.  All of our slaves

have to be circumcised, and all of them are fitted

with a three inch nose ring through the septum, a

three inch cock ring through the head of their penis,

and are branded on the upper right rump with our two

inch tannery slave brand.”

As Noland pinned the diaper back on Tony, he saw tears

falling from his eyes.  “You’re not crying because I’m

going to skin you, are you kiddo?  All I’m going to be

doing is help you peel your grape, that’s all, dude.

Anyway it’s the regulations man, and the slave

regulatory committee is pretty strict.  Rulings of

local counties have little effect.  If the slave

regulations say you get skinned, you get skinned, no

ifs, ands or buts!”

The hipster slave, who by now was looking a lot less

like a hipster and more of a scaredy-cat, was hugged

by his quiet friend, and as he took his leave, Mr.

Blazer said to him, “Remember, we have a liberal

visitation policy for the slaves at the tannery.

Friends and family members are free to visit on the

first Sunday of every month.  It was nice meeting you

sir.”  The quiet friend left, and Elliott immediately

started buzzing the hipster slave’s once totally cool

hair.  In no time at all his ‘do’ was reduced to two

clumps of hair at his temples.  He now looked as goofy

as the blond slave.

Gabriel asked Brandon what kind of work would require

that Tony be circumcised, ringed, and branded.

“My dad owns the Blazer Tannery.  The slaves work for

most of each day naked on their hands and knees all

day long, wearing nothing except kneepads, plastic

sandals, and a back saddle that carries their tanning

supplies.  The hides, fresh from the slaughterhouse,

are laid out and cover the entire vast floor of the

factory.  The hides are flecked with tufts of hair,

salt, shit and blood.”

“In the first step of hide processing the hides have

to have every square inch gone over and cleaned by

hand.  So we have devised an efficient system.  The

slaves get on their hands and knees side by side,

usually about 20 slaves.  We then extend a single

plasti-chain through all of the slaves’ nose rings,

from the slave on one end of the building to the slave

on the other end.  The slaves on the ends have the

plasti-chain harnessed to their bodies.  We do the

same for their cock rings; a single plasti-chain goes

through the cock ring of every slave.  The slaves on

each end of the row have the plasti-chains from both

the nose rings and the cock rings harnessed to their

bodies.  That way the entire row of slaves on their

hands and knees is certain to keep moving up the floor

covered in hides at an even and efficient pace.  After

they have covered the entire length of the building

hand picking every piece of debris out of the hides

and putting it in their debris bags attached to their

back saddles, they then go backwards down the entire

row of hides again to pick up any leftover.  Then the

backpack garbage is collected and they crawl back up

the floor performing a different tannery process on

the hides.”

“So, as you can see, it is an environment that poses a

good risk of infection, so having Tony skinned is for

his own good.”

I asked why him why they would purchase a top rated

slave for that kind of work, since both Tony and the

former hipster slave, Adam, were coded blue.  He

answered, “We don’t pay any attention whatsoever to

the rating system used by the local county auctions.

That whole color-coded system is just a gimmick by the

counties to make money, in my opinion.  We simply buy

up guys who look like they aren’t going to faint from

having to crawl around on their hands and knees all

day long in shit and blood covered hides.”

Richard looked up at Gabriel, distressed, and said,

“That seems really awful.”  I went and hugged Richard.

When Elliott saw the look of concern on our faces, he

muttered to Luke, “They’re just slaves, for

chrissake!”

Gabriel asked Brandon how many slaves Mr. Blazer owned

and how many people in total worked at the tannery.  “We

are a small operation.  With these three new purchases

dad now owns 26 slaves.  And you have pretty much met

the entire non-slave team, just my dad, Elliott, me,

and our overseers Luke and Noland.  Our head overseer,

Joshua Rangle, you will be meeting when we get out to

the tannery.”

Gabriel asked how so few people could look after so

many slaves.  “There are three reasons

why so few of us can efficiently control such a number

of slaves; first, we employ ‘herd maintenance’

techniques, so everything is structured for the

slaves, and they all do everything at the same time

following a strict routine; second, we pretty much

keep them chained or secured in some way all the time;

and last, we are very serious about discipline out at

the tannery.”

“And we are a very ‘hands-on’ group of overseers.

Even though we seek total conformity from our slaves

in every way, from looking alike in terms of hair and

body modifications, wearing identical clothing at all

times, brushing their teeth at the same time, and so

on, we know each of them individually.  We have

one-on-one motivation sessions with our slaves all the

time.  For example, even though Tony won’t be shit

picking down on the floor for a few days until he

heals from the circumcision and processing he’s about

to receive, he will still be having motivation

sessions with all of us overseers.  All of us will

spend time with him, talking to him, testing him,

teaching him to conform, telling him what’s expected,

putting him through the hoops, and administering

orientation spankings.  He’ll be getting plenty of

those.”

Tony, overhearing all of this, cringed against the

van.

A lot of people were passing us in the parking lot as

they made their way to their cars.  Several slowed

their pace as they passed by to get a better look at

the diapered slaves chained by their necks to the side

of the van, having to stand there and be stared at

since they had no place to go.

Elliott went up to Tony and removed his cone cap. 

Tony started shuddering then started crying.  Some of

the spectators were quite amused at Tony’s distress.

One little boy came running up, ahead of his family,

and shouted back at his family, “Mommy, Daddy.  Look

at the slaves with funny haircuts.”  His little

brother soon caught up with him and the two little

tykes couldn’t control their laughter.

As Elliott started buzzing Tony, the blond slave made

eye contact with the slave Adam, the former hipster,

and gave a look of disgust in Elliott’s direction.

Brandon seeing that, dropped what he was doing and

rushed up to the blond slave and slapped his face.

The slave yelped and cried, stunned.  “I saw that

sneer you made to Adam regarding my brother.”  He then

slapped Adam’s face, which almost made him drop the

weight he was holding onto his bare feet.  The force

of the blow made Adam smash into the blond slave, and

he in turn bumped into Tony as he was being clipped by

Elliott.  “You fucking, worthless, monkey-boys better

learn fast that you show respect to all of your

overseers. And don’t you ever fucking dare, ever

again, show a lack of respect to any member of my

family!  And don’t bother getting palsy-walsy with

each other, because out at the tannery we do not

encourage that.  We have a merit system for you slaves

based on how well each of you helps us to keep tabs on

your fellow slaves.  If you report an infraction of a

fellow slave and it leads to a beating of that slave,

you get rewarded.  Slaves don’t need friends.  The

only thing a slave needs is a good strong body.”

I felt like I could throw up.  Tony and the blond

slave looked like they were about to at any moment.

“You are slaves now, and you simply have to accept it

and learn to behave and show respect.  We don’t waste

time out at the tannery with any of the latest fancy

psychology based slave training techniques.  You do

what you’re told as soon as you’re told.  It’s your

choice.  If you do, then all is well.  If you don’t,

well, then we can give you shoulders, backs, and ass's

that look like the whip marked shoulders, backs, and

ass's of our two boys who don’t like to behave.”

“If you are having a hard time comprehending the fact

that you are now slaves, you shouldn’t once we get you

out to the tannery and penned up. Because after we get

you washed down and shaved, we’ll be punching a nice

big hole through your noses.  And we’ll be punching an

even bigger hole through the tips of your dicks.

That’s right, we’re punching a hole through the knob

of your slave dicks.  Then we’re going to put giant

three-inch steel rings through those nose and dick

holes.  You’re going to be looking real good!  Just

like all our other slaves.  Once you look like all the

others it should help you grasp and accept your new

status.  And then you’re all going to get trussed up

real nice and tight and we’re going to give you a

super steamy hot branding on your fat asses!”

Relishing the looks of horror on the slaves’ faces,

Brandon continued.  “And we do it all without the

benefit of an initial anesthetic.  Anesthetics are for

us free boys only.”  He looked over at Elliott and

Luke and saw that they were smiling widely, on the

verge of laughter.

Brandon continued to taunt them, “Now do any of you

have any objections?  No one said a thing. Do any of

you boys have any questions, or have something you

want to say?”  Seeing he couldn’t get a further rise

out of the hapless slaves, Brandon went back to his

father who was at the front of the van putting papers

pertaining to the slaves into an accordion file.

To Be Continued…

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