My Brother Tony, the Penury Slave

Part One

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

We all knew it was going to happen eventually, and now

that it finally has the entire family is feeling a

kind of relief.  It is indeed strange for me to have

to write that we are feeling relief that my older

brother, Tony, has been enslaved, but it appears that

that was the only thing that could have put an end to

his spiraling debt.

Getting a letter of invitation from the Department of

Indigent Services for a review of your situation is

one of the most humiliating pieces of mail a person

can ever get.  You can only hope your mailman doesn't

blab.  People see that letter and they know things

aren't going too well for you.  If anything, all the

euphemisms currently in use for getting enslaved for

being poor are even more demeaning than the old honest

terms like ‘poverty slave’ or ‘poor boy slave’, terms

that are no longer politically correct.

After you are reviewed by Indigent Services and they

deem enslavement as the best alternative for you to

pay off your debts, there really is no other recourse

open to you.  And so it was for my brother Tony.  He

was sentenced to three years of labor service in the

Indigent Reclamation Corps, where he is now receiving

guidance, training and discipline in sticking to a

job. 

I had to admit he needed those things.  He was typical

of young guys who get enslaved for being poor.  At the

age of 26 he was constantly in debt.  In Oklahoma, if

a person’s debt exceeds $15,000, and more than three

consecutive monthly payment periods pass without

payments that exceed the interest rate by at least

$100, then any creditor can notify Indigent Services

and they will immediately order you up for a review.

Tony was constantly borrowing money from my parents,

my older brother Gabriel, and me, to pay off his

bills.  Finally, we could no longer help him out.

Tony was employed as a janitor, and he lost his job

after arriving at work once too often not wearing

his janitor uniform.  He was really humiliated having

to wear a short sleeved, green, polyester shirt with

‘Dawson Janitorial Services’ emblazoned on the front

pocket and across the back, matching colored work

slacks, and large dorky black shoes.  And he hated

most of all that his boss made his employees comb

their hair in an old fashioned slicked up style with a

part on the side.  After Tony was fired and he

couldn't find a new job in time to make satisfactory

payments on his debt, we all knew that it would be

only a matter of days before he was called up to

Social Services for a review before the Indigent

Services Department.

There is a common feeling that one has to be pretty

stupid to be enslaved for being in serious debt.  In

America, a person is free to live as poor a lifestyle

as one chooses.  But one has to make sure that any

incurred debts are paid off in a timely manner.  Tony

knew he was in trouble, but he was just too

blockheaded to change his lifestyle, and too attached

to his ‘things’ to sell them off.

Such guys hauled up to Indigent Services and remanded

to the Indigent Reclamation Corps are constant fodder

for the jokes of society in general, popular

comedians, and even children.  The current popular

joke among young kids under the age of 10: Question,

What do you call a naughty boy who wets his diaper,

hasn’t learned his ABC’s, breaks his toys, and then

cries if he gets a spanking? Answer: A penury slave.

In short, penury slaves are considered bumpkins, and

in a way that is what Tony was.  He spent all of his

time trying to look good in order to impress the

ladies.  He bought a hot looking though impractical

car and he had all the latest electronic gadgets.

His fancy clothes put my brother Richard and me to

shame.

Counties generate a lot of revenue from the sale of

penury slaves, therefore their numbers have,

inevitably, been growing as county officials keep

their eyes open for folks getting into debt.  Most

such penury slaves are young males, with typical

enslavement sentences or terms of service running from

one to four years. 

We had to take Tony to the courthouse for his

sentencing before the judge.  The judge had him step

forward, looked him over, read the briefing,

officially pronounced him a slave and sentenced him to

a three year term of servitude to the Indigent

Reclamation Corps.  He then ordered Tony to appear at

the Tillman County auction field eight days hence, on

which day his sentence would begin.  If Tony was not

sold at auction he would then begin serving his term

with the Tillman County Public Works Department.  The

judge told Tony he appeared to be a decent kid, and

that he felt his sentence would do him good.  He also

reminded him that now that he was a slave, if he got

into any trouble he would be subject to a very

different set of laws from the laws that applied to

him as a free man.  Such a minor infraction as a

parking ticket would earn him not only physical

punishment ‘a forty stroke paddling’, but an extension

of servitude as well.  He told Tony to behave himself

for his own good.  He then ordered Tony to go with

Officer Osgood to get collared, banded, cinched, and

stapled.

Just as we were about to exit, the judge asked Gabriel

and me if we were his brothers.  We said we were.

Officer Osgood, hearing the judge address us, stopped,

and he and Tony listened.  The judge said the file

indicated that Tony would be living at home until his

auction date, so he offered us some advice. 

“I would seriously advise you boys to treat your brother

Tony like a slave during these remaining days before his

term of servitude begins, for his own good.  When you

take him home from here today he will be collared,

banded above the right elbow, and have a ‘root cinch’

emplaced at the base of his genitals.  These are items

of control and I would recommend that you use them.”

“The root cinch is for use by his future owner to

electronically control and monitor him, but there is a

small ring attached at the base of the cinch, and this

is for attaching his leash.  I would strongly

recommend you keep him leashed at all times.  The

armband is for attaching various control and

restraining devices, and I would recommend you keep

him secured when he’s not being monitored.  He has

already proven that he does not know how to act in his

own best interest.  I would remind you that if he

doesn’t appear at his set auction appointment next

week, his sentence will automatically be tripled.

Don’t let your brother do anything foolish.  If you

really love your brother I urge you to take control.”

Gabriel and I thanked the judge for his advice, and

were then told we could accompany Tony for his brief

processing. 

Officer Osgood led us into what looked like a medic

room with a paper covered examination table.  He

ordered Tony to take off all of his clothes and to lie

down on the exam table.  Tony balked and Officer

Osgood barked at him, “Move it, slave!”  It was

awkward because the room was small and there were no

chairs, and we were all standing near each other with

no place to go.  I felt embarrassed for Tony.

Tony got his shoes, socks, shirt, and slacks off, and

then started to sit down on the exam table.  In a

flash Officer Osgood pulled a short flip whip from his

service belt and pelted Tony’s back and shoulder.

Tony jumped off the table and screamed.  Osgood told

him that if there were any more delays he could spend

the rest of the day at the courthouse locked up in

punishment restraints.  Tony quickly removed his

t-shirt and undies.  Covering his privates he sat back

up on the exam table and laid back.  There was nothing

but embarrassed silence as he did so.

I had a choke in my throat.  My brother Tony may have

been foolish when it came to handling money, but he

was a damn nice person, and it hurt me to see him

being treated in such a way.  I knew Gabriel was

feeling that way too, as he stood there nervously

hoping Tony wouldn’t do anything else to piss off

Officer Osgood. 

The silence was broken by the arrival of the nurse,

Peter Dante.  He carried with him a case full of slave

accoutrement.  From the case he first selected a 3/4

inch wide collar, removed some plastic covering, cut

open a locking seal, slipped it around Tony’s neck,

made an adjustment, and we then heard it click and

lock into place.  Officer Osgood said, “Good fit,

Peter.” Peter looked down at Tony and said, “You’re

now a real slave.  How does it feel?”  Tony said

nothing.  Peter smiled. 

Next Peter applied a two-inch wide metal band above

Tony’s right elbow.  The band is for the purpose of

attaching restraints, and about its circumference it

had several raised and punched indentions to which

securing chains and bonds could be attached.  I

started to get a creepy feeling seeing my brother get

stuff attached to him.

Peter took out a pair of hair clippers, told

Tony to spread his legs and get his hands away

from his groin, and started buzzing off his pubic

bush.  He then maneuvered Tony’s equipment so he could

remove all the hair that encircled the base of his

cock and balls.  Tony’s face turned red.  Once buzzed

to Peter’s satisfaction, Peter took what looked like a

high tech plastic/metallic band and encircled the root

of Tony’s cock.  He did a kind of milking motion at

the base of his balls and cock to make sure the balls

were out, and then encircled Tony’s root with the

band.  He made various adjustments.  As he locked it

on he told Gabriel and me what it was for.  “This band

will allow Tony’s owner to control and monitor him

electronically.  The ring at the base is also used to

attach a leash.  Most folks now leash slaves at the

root cinch rather than the collar because these new

cinches offer an extra line of protection against a

slave bolting.  You’ll notice it functions as a choke

halter as well, so if any sudden movements are made it

pinches the root with a very severe squeeze force,

enough to cut into the skin and cause bleeding.  So be

careful Tony.  Don’t try any foolish stunts when your

owner has you by the leash.”  Tony kept staring at the

ceiling.  A tear fell from his eyes. 

As Peter approached Tony with the next item, Tony let

out a small shudder.  Peter reassured him, “Hey, don’t

worry.  I’m almost finished.  You look like a stylish

kind of guy, so you should like the next decoration

I’m going to put on you.  It’s a little ear tag, looks

good on guys like you.  It should go nicely with your

fancy haircut.”  He sprayed Tony’s ear lobe with an

antiseptic, put a metal tag like item to his ear, and

took a staple type tool and punched Tony’s ear.  Tony

cried out, Osgood told him to “shut up”, and as the

nurse bent over Tony to examine if the staples went in

properly he said, “Mmmm, nice cologne you’re wearing

Tony.  I like a slave who keeps himself nice and clean

smelling, so he doesn’t offend us free boys.”  As

Peter exited he told us to call him if Tony’s ear got

infected in the next couple of days.

Osgood ordered Tony to get up and get dressed.  As

Tony sat up the ear tag was quite noticeable.  It was

a band two and one half by three quarter inches that

identified slaves in Oklahoma.  Even more so than the

collar, the ear tag screamed out, ‘SLAVE’.  Tony got

dressed in silence; we walked out to the car in

silence, and drove Tony home in silence. 

To Be Continued…

For more of Randall Austin Stories, Please join his Archive group: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Randall_Austin_Stories