LUKE'S SUMMER INDENTURE

CHAPTER THREE As Told by Mr. Cruz

Because of Mr. Thrush's many years in the slave industry, his home was well-stocked with slave paraphernalia. He was even able to locate a temporary slave collar with a green stripe to indicate summer indenture. The tracking chip we injected under Luke's left armpit was designed for temporary indentures and set to dissolve in three months. I saw Luke's eyes go wide as the retired slave trader unpacked various paddles, whips, tawses, and other devices used to help teach slaveboys.

"I just brought the whips to show you," he said. "I know you have the boy under a contract that says you can't break the skin."

We brought Luke into the bathroom. Usually I would not permit a slaveboy to use a free person's toilet, but I knew the slave facilities off the back porch were not large enough for what we had to do. Besides, when we were finished, I now had a slaveboy to clean up any mess we made.

The retired slave trader was skilled at shaving Luke's body. He was efficient, though it must be said that the teen's body didn't present that much of a challenge. Two zips of the razor on his underarms and three zips for the tuft at the base of his cock. We decided to use depilatory cream on the boy's balls and lower legs. I spread his cheeks and looked at his anus to see that there wasn't any hair there. I heard a soft sob from the boy.

Then Thrush gave Luke a standard slaveboy haircut. The sides of his head were trimmed so close they looked nearly bald. The top of the boy's head still had a quarter inch of brush. I complimented the old man on the neatness of his professional work.

We bent Luke over the side of the tub and then I began to work my lubed index finger into the boy's virgin butthole. He gasped and I thought he was going to speak out of turn (and give me another reason to paddle him). But he gained control of himself. "P-permission to ask a q-question, sir."

I smacked his ass with my open palm. "You call me Master. You call all other free men Sir. Understood, boy?"

"Y-yes sir. B-but M-master... the slave contract... I thought it said you couldn't... y'know, you couldn't f-f-fu...."

I laughed and plunged my finger deeper into him. "Believe me, if I was fucking you with my fat dick you would feel a lot more than this little finger, slaveboy. I'm merely examining your body, inside as well as out. And of course preparing you for an enema."

His body tensed. I knew he wanted to say something else, but I plunged a second finger into his anus. He gasped and whimpered, "P-p-please, Master. It hurts."

I smacked his ass again and snapped, "Instead of complaining like some stupid slave, you should be thanking your Master for helping you learn."

Thrush grabbed the boy's ear and doubled it over, whispering, "I don't hear you saying thank you to your Master."

"Th-th-thank you, M-master. Thank you, Master, for t-teaching this slaveboy."

This straight teen jock was stripped naked, bent over the side of the tub, and I was finger fucking his asshole for more than ten minutes. I saw a wet spot appear on the tent in Mr. Thrush's pants, and knew we were both enjoying the show.

I pulled out my fingers and inserted the tube of the enema bag. "You better not let a drop spill out of your ass until you're given permission boy. Do you understand me?"

Thrush was in a jovial mood. "I used to tell the boys they'd get one smack with the paddle for each droplet of brown water they let slip."

I ran my hand over the boy's distended stomach, then my fingers brushed his very stiff and leaking penis. "Hmmm, what do you make of this, Mr. Thrush? All that finger fucking left our boy with a very stiff boner. You know the rules. If he is proven to be gay, all the sex restrictions in the contract are void and he's available as a full use body slave."

The boy just whimpered, struggling to hold in the enema water. The retired slave trader helpfully added, "Even in liberal New York, our legislature just passed a rule allowing indenture of gay boys for full use, even if they aren't yet eighteen. Even Luke's little brother would be available -- that is, if he were gay."

My brain was whirring. I didn't say anything out loud but in my head I completed the old man's sentence with, "Or if someone could show evidence that made it seem like the lad is gay." That's when my own erection leaked in my pants.

We let the boy release the water from his bowels. Then I ushered the youth into the stall shower and left him there naked and shivering as Thrush and I stripped off. I'm fit and hairy with an impressive chest and shoulders, although I have the start of a beer gut. My cock is surrounded by a thick black blush and it was standing upright when my boxer shorts came down. When Thrush got naked, his uncut cock stood up under his big rotund tummy.

As we opened the door to the large walk-in shower, Luke cringed back against the tile wall looking from one boner to the other. I laughed, "Calm down, boy, your new owner needs to wash you and examine you thoroughly. As for this," I continued, looking down at my dripping erection. "This is a natural side effect of preparing a new slaveboy. If you had ever taken Understanding Modern Indenture class in school, you'd know that." (Of course they didn't offer such enlightened instruction in New York.)

The boy was told to keep his hands on top of his head, and warned he would be punished if they moved from that spot without explicit instructions. Then I started by soaping up his head and around his face. Thrush was behind the boy using the nozzle spray to wash out the new slave's bottom.

As we soaped him, sprayed him, and felt him up, both of our stiff dicks were slapping and rubbing on the teen's smooth body. Then I stepped back to look over the transformation of the naked youth. Thrush piped in with, "Don't you think it's time the boy learned to wash his Master in the shower?"

"Quite right, old man." I took Luke's hands from his head and handed him the soap. "You can start by getting a good lather going in my beard, boy." I stood so close to him that my fat hairy cock was grinding into his hairless belly. His shaved erection was slapping on my thigh, since he was a good deal shorter than me.

Thrush pressed his fat body against the new slaveboy's back. The old man's thick hard cock was grinding up and down against the straight teen's smooth ass cheeks. Luke looked up to me as if pleading for rescue. I just gave him a half-smile and said, "He's not putting it in your hole, is he, boy? According to your contract, no dicks can go into your butthole, Lukie."

The boy had been lathering my thick chest hair when I moved his hands down to my hard-on. "You'd better do a good job of soaping me up down there, boy. You don't want to be punished for doing less than your best."

The naked teenager was masturbating my hairy cock as the fat old man rubbed his dick and body against the youth's rear. I tipped up the boy's chin so he would look in my eyes as I softly said, "There's something else that doesn't count as insertion sex, slaveboy." Then I kissed him on the lips. He resisted and I forced my tongue into his mouth.

My cock started shooting with so much force that the first shot landed across the boy's face, some even hanging from his lips. The next shot splashed on his smooth chest and then there was a dribble of my cum down the youth's smooth body. At the same time, Thrush grunted and hugged the boy's body even harder against his own fatness as he spermed on the new slaveboy's ass. I saw the cream dripping down the backs of Luke's thighs and purposely pushed him out of the shower.

I looked at the fat man still in the shower with me and said, "We can wash off the residue, but I think it will do our boy good to let it dry on his body -- remind him of his new role."

Luke dried me off with a big fluffy towel and then did the same for Mr. Thrush. But we let the boy air-dry. In the meantime, the splotches of spunk that has splashed and dripped down his body were drying as well.

Just then we were interrupted by the doorbell. I went to the intercom near the bedroom door and pushed the button for a video view. Luke's younger brother, Tommy, was at my front door, wearing the same tight t-shirt and tight jeans I'd seen earlier in the day. He carried a big bag and spoke into the intercom, "It's Tommy... um, Luke's brother... my mom sent over a bunch of his clothes."

"I'll be right down to let you in, Tommy." I grinned at Thrush and then wrapped the white towel around my middle.

"You're not going to dress?" the obese man asked.

"Please attach Lukie to the whipping frame... or maybe we should call it a paddling frame for these circumstances." Then I looked down at myself and said, "It's certainly not illegal for a man just out of the shower to answer his door with a towel wrapped around himself."

I checked myself in the mirror and adjusted the towel so that it parted in a way that showed off my dick as I walked. Then I headed downstairs to greet Luke's brother.

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