Nicholas's Story
folder
Original - Misc › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
7
Views:
6,231
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Original - Misc › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
7
Views:
6,231
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction about oral & anal sex between men and a boy, starting in infancy. The characters, locations & incidents are fictional. Any resemblance to actual events or locales, or persons, living or dead, is enti
Chapter 7 - I am free
©2007 Herb Cat. Do not reproduce or distribute this story without the author's permission.
As an author, I welcome feedback from readers. Please send any comments about this story, positive or negative, to Herbcatwriter@yahoo.com. Thank you.
.oOo.
As I thought about my life, the way I was treated by one owner after another, I recalled the old adage, "Don't get mad, get even." So I hired a private investigator who was able to locate Father, Daddy, Master Johnson, and Billy. I presented enough evidence to the authorities to have all four put behind bars for child abuse, corrupting the morals of a minor, involuntary servitude, pandering and an assortment of other charges. As I sat through each of their trials, I had to gloat.
It turned out Father's place was an hour outside Deming, NM, near the Mexican border. Some of his ladies were actually wetbacks who'd been tricked into prostitution, but most of his girls were homebred. Father was about twenty-five years older now than when I knew him. But he still ran his harem of girls and still took great pride in taking every little baby in the house and splitting open its tiny little sphincter. So there was plenty of physical evidence to the sexual abuse that went on at his house.
Over the last twenty years, Daddy had gone through Ricky, Julio, and Desmond, getting rid of each one when he showed the slightest sign of pubescence. Nine-year old Armando was in the Tucson coop when the police picked Daddy up. The lad cried hysterically when Daddy was led away in cuffs. He still thought Daddy loved him.
We discovered sleazy Master Johnson had set up his hovel inside the Walnut Canyon National Monument, so he was a squatter in addition to other things. When the cops raided his place, they found a naked malnourished lad chained to the wall.
Billy got a far lighter sentence than I thought he deserved. His band of boy hookers weren't as sympathetic as victims as the children in the other cases. But at least Billy spent some time in prison, where he learned what it really meant to be someone's sex toy. And his beloved pink Caddy was confiscated by the state.
Fred was another matter. What he was doing with males of legal age seemed to be with mutual consent. I knew Zach was still living with him. I didn't really resent Zach. He was just a pawn like I was. But I certainly resented Fred and all his lies. My well-paid legal staff decided we needed to use entrapment. I remembered Fred's words to the Kleins as he stood over the naked ménage à trois and discussed my future: "Business is business."
So, my lawyers contacted Fred and told him their client had an offer to make which must be discussed with the utmost discretion. We arranged to meet at an expensive restaurant in Memphis. Fred was surprised to discover it was me. I told him I thought Zach would be happier living with me. Fred told me he paid good money for Zach and I'd have to buy him. That's exactly what I expected him to say, what I wanted him to say. By this time I knew what every one of my owners had paid for me, including the Kleins. I asked Fred what Zach's price was. He quoted a figure nearly twice what the Kleins had paid for me. I guess that's inflation. I agreed.
The next day, I rang Fred's bell, and Zach answered the door in one of my old tennis outfits. "What the hell do you want? I thought I told you never to come back." This time I was the one smiling.
Fred called out, "Let him in, Zach. We have some business to conduct. So, Nicky, my man, did you bring the money."
"I certainly did, Fred. It's all in this attaché case. I didn't want to have to wait for a check to clear. I'll stand over here by Zach while you count it. I began squeezing Zach's ass.
Suddenly, he was putting two and two together. "Fred, you're not selling me, are you? After all these years? Come on, Man! You said you loved me." Fred made no reply as he counted the stacks of bills. "Shit, what did I do wrong, Fred? I did everything you asked. You can't sell me. Not to Nicky. Please, Fred." There were actual tears on Zach's cheeks.
Fred closed the case. "Yes, it's all here, Nicky. You can have him. Good doing business with you."
At that moment, the front door opened and two cops came in and handcuffed Fred. "You are under arrest for conspiring to traffic in human cargo."
"No, no, you have it all wrong. Nicky here is the one trying to buy Zach. He's the one you should be arresting." I casually unbuttoned my shirt. This time, it wasn't my well-toned pecs I wanted to show Fred. It was the wire. All of our dealings at the restaurant and there at the house were recorded on tape. The serial numbers of the money had all been listed, and all those bills now had his fingerprints. Fred didn't have a leg to stand on.
As Fred was taken away, Zach stared at me. "So, now you own me?"
"No, Zach, my young friend." I gave his ass another squeeze. "No one owns you. You are free. I suggest you get some big suitcases and pack up all your fine clothes to take with you."
"You mean your clothes."
"No, they're yours. You earned them." I turned to leave.
"Wait, come in, let's have a cup of coffee. I need to talk about this." For a couple hours, Zach and I sat in Fred's kitchen and discussed all the lies he had told both of us. Like myself, Zach had no lingering affection for the man he thought he loved. When he learned what had happened to the Kleins and that I was now alone, he asked a question, "Nicky, I'm going to need a place to live. Would you like a roommate for a while?"
I smiled. "Well, I could use a houseboy. I do remember you were pretty good at fucking, but I haven't had a chance to try out your asshole." We both laughed.
"And if we were roommates, we could share the same wardrobe."
"Well, I'm willing to give it a try, Zach, my friend. But there will be no commitments on either side. Anytime one of us wants out of the relationship, we'll shake hands as friends and move on. You don't own me, I don't own you."
"That sounds wonderful, Nicky. Frankly, I can't remember a time in my life when I was truly free." Zach kissed me and I helped him pack our clothes.
.oOo.
As an author, I welcome feedback from readers. Please send any comments about this story, positive or negative, to Herbcatwriter@yahoo.com. Thank you.
As an author, I welcome feedback from readers. Please send any comments about this story, positive or negative, to Herbcatwriter@yahoo.com. Thank you.
.oOo.
As I thought about my life, the way I was treated by one owner after another, I recalled the old adage, "Don't get mad, get even." So I hired a private investigator who was able to locate Father, Daddy, Master Johnson, and Billy. I presented enough evidence to the authorities to have all four put behind bars for child abuse, corrupting the morals of a minor, involuntary servitude, pandering and an assortment of other charges. As I sat through each of their trials, I had to gloat.
It turned out Father's place was an hour outside Deming, NM, near the Mexican border. Some of his ladies were actually wetbacks who'd been tricked into prostitution, but most of his girls were homebred. Father was about twenty-five years older now than when I knew him. But he still ran his harem of girls and still took great pride in taking every little baby in the house and splitting open its tiny little sphincter. So there was plenty of physical evidence to the sexual abuse that went on at his house.
Over the last twenty years, Daddy had gone through Ricky, Julio, and Desmond, getting rid of each one when he showed the slightest sign of pubescence. Nine-year old Armando was in the Tucson coop when the police picked Daddy up. The lad cried hysterically when Daddy was led away in cuffs. He still thought Daddy loved him.
We discovered sleazy Master Johnson had set up his hovel inside the Walnut Canyon National Monument, so he was a squatter in addition to other things. When the cops raided his place, they found a naked malnourished lad chained to the wall.
Billy got a far lighter sentence than I thought he deserved. His band of boy hookers weren't as sympathetic as victims as the children in the other cases. But at least Billy spent some time in prison, where he learned what it really meant to be someone's sex toy. And his beloved pink Caddy was confiscated by the state.
Fred was another matter. What he was doing with males of legal age seemed to be with mutual consent. I knew Zach was still living with him. I didn't really resent Zach. He was just a pawn like I was. But I certainly resented Fred and all his lies. My well-paid legal staff decided we needed to use entrapment. I remembered Fred's words to the Kleins as he stood over the naked ménage à trois and discussed my future: "Business is business."
So, my lawyers contacted Fred and told him their client had an offer to make which must be discussed with the utmost discretion. We arranged to meet at an expensive restaurant in Memphis. Fred was surprised to discover it was me. I told him I thought Zach would be happier living with me. Fred told me he paid good money for Zach and I'd have to buy him. That's exactly what I expected him to say, what I wanted him to say. By this time I knew what every one of my owners had paid for me, including the Kleins. I asked Fred what Zach's price was. He quoted a figure nearly twice what the Kleins had paid for me. I guess that's inflation. I agreed.
The next day, I rang Fred's bell, and Zach answered the door in one of my old tennis outfits. "What the hell do you want? I thought I told you never to come back." This time I was the one smiling.
Fred called out, "Let him in, Zach. We have some business to conduct. So, Nicky, my man, did you bring the money."
"I certainly did, Fred. It's all in this attaché case. I didn't want to have to wait for a check to clear. I'll stand over here by Zach while you count it. I began squeezing Zach's ass.
Suddenly, he was putting two and two together. "Fred, you're not selling me, are you? After all these years? Come on, Man! You said you loved me." Fred made no reply as he counted the stacks of bills. "Shit, what did I do wrong, Fred? I did everything you asked. You can't sell me. Not to Nicky. Please, Fred." There were actual tears on Zach's cheeks.
Fred closed the case. "Yes, it's all here, Nicky. You can have him. Good doing business with you."
At that moment, the front door opened and two cops came in and handcuffed Fred. "You are under arrest for conspiring to traffic in human cargo."
"No, no, you have it all wrong. Nicky here is the one trying to buy Zach. He's the one you should be arresting." I casually unbuttoned my shirt. This time, it wasn't my well-toned pecs I wanted to show Fred. It was the wire. All of our dealings at the restaurant and there at the house were recorded on tape. The serial numbers of the money had all been listed, and all those bills now had his fingerprints. Fred didn't have a leg to stand on.
As Fred was taken away, Zach stared at me. "So, now you own me?"
"No, Zach, my young friend." I gave his ass another squeeze. "No one owns you. You are free. I suggest you get some big suitcases and pack up all your fine clothes to take with you."
"You mean your clothes."
"No, they're yours. You earned them." I turned to leave.
"Wait, come in, let's have a cup of coffee. I need to talk about this." For a couple hours, Zach and I sat in Fred's kitchen and discussed all the lies he had told both of us. Like myself, Zach had no lingering affection for the man he thought he loved. When he learned what had happened to the Kleins and that I was now alone, he asked a question, "Nicky, I'm going to need a place to live. Would you like a roommate for a while?"
I smiled. "Well, I could use a houseboy. I do remember you were pretty good at fucking, but I haven't had a chance to try out your asshole." We both laughed.
"And if we were roommates, we could share the same wardrobe."
"Well, I'm willing to give it a try, Zach, my friend. But there will be no commitments on either side. Anytime one of us wants out of the relationship, we'll shake hands as friends and move on. You don't own me, I don't own you."
"That sounds wonderful, Nicky. Frankly, I can't remember a time in my life when I was truly free." Zach kissed me and I helped him pack our clothes.
.oOo.
As an author, I welcome feedback from readers. Please send any comments about this story, positive or negative, to Herbcatwriter@yahoo.com. Thank you.