The Bonded Servant

Perhaps you don't see it coming or argue with friends that "it can't happen here." But darker things have occurred in history. Freedoms fall away and hatred and bigotries rise. This story, inspired by Thomas Lodge's excellent The Attendant series, brings us to the year 2030 when very religious extremists have taken over the government and courts of many states. In many ways, America is becoming like many other countries in the world where being gay is a sin and even a crime. (You may want to read chapter 1 in Bondage to better follow the story).

My New Life

I lay awake in the cage in the kitchen. My back and legs ached from spending the night cooped up in a space meant for my dog. I was terrified imagining what the next four months would be like until I turned 21 and would be liberated. But then, what would liberation look like? Where could I go?

How did this happen? My name is Benjie, but at college, I finally was Ben, a real man's man name. I am a six foot tall, athletic, pussy-loving, dirty blond all-American guy. I played sports hard, drank beer with my buddies, and talked trash.

Okay, I lived in one of the states that not only banned gay sex, but criminalized it. It was 2030 and it seemed the world had turned upside down. Our state government was dominated by born-again fanatics and the courts ruled that our state was, in fact, always meant to be a religious, God-fearing place that must adhere to the Bible. The Ten Commandments were plastered on the wall of every school classroom, even at my college.

But when it came to gays, there was no love, just hate.

That said, it was not my issue. Not that I cared who a person fucked, but even if I had a gay friend, he would never let on. Maybe up North, but not in my deep-Southern state.

Still, one could not help seeing what was happening. In the first year of the new laws, there were protests which were violently put down. Some gays fled the state; others went into hiding. More laws were passed that allowed for discrimination in housing, in jobs, in schools. Even us straight folks in college were afraid to protest as we may be accused of homosexuality.

Of course, I wasn't gay, so I was safe. Now, I think back with shame that I did not protect my gay friends and join in the protests, but I was having too much fun getting all the pussy I could.

Last year, a new police patrol was created in my state to monitor gays and to provide assistance to parents if their gay kid became unruly or resisted parental efforts to make their kid straight. It was now even legal for parents to have tasers to control their gay kid if he was under 21 years old.

Finally, a new law was passed in our state that forced gays to wear pink triangles in public and have a location transmitter embedded in their arms. If they refused or tried to run away, they could be tracked and arrested. It was a brutal time.

That's the way the world was, as if the Civil War never happened. Now, there were slave states - well, gays are called bonded servants , but we know better- and free states. Kids at 18 would be forcibly reprogrammed. Under 21, you were indentured as bonded servants. Over 21, unless you begged to stay enslaved, you could be thrown out as a vagrant and arrested for deviancy.

So how did I, with a great girlfriend who could not get enough of my eight inch, thick cock, end up in a cage in the kitchen? Because my 18 year old brother James whom I loved dearly and always protected, left his computer on with gay porn. I never knew he was gay, but I sure as hell was not going to let my Bible thumping conservative parents turn him in for being gay. I had been his protector all through school. No one bullied my kid brother. No one was allowed to hurt him.

Instead, when the police patrol came to our home (yes, my crazy father called them), I took the heat and said I was goofing around on the computer, I laughed, but proudly reminded everyone that I am as straight as an arrow and, besides, will turn 21 in four months.

Instead I of leaving us alone, I got slapped around by the sadistic police.

"A faggot has no right to contradict his father or any other man." I was stunned into silence as the officer turned back to my father and, to my horror, had a pink triangle pinned to my shirt. Then, I felt a shot to my arm. The locator transmitter was jammed under my skin. I was branded.

My father pointed his finger at me and called me a filthy faggot who brought sin into our home. "I want him out" he demanded.

"Sir," the officer again spoke only to my father, ignoring me, "you have the option of making him your bonded servant for the next four month until he turns 21. By law, he must obey the command of everyone in the family. Take advantage of the law and hopefully he will repent his ways before his birthday. You could always discard him after that and let the state take over."

That is exactly what happened.

So now I woke up in disbelief. This is a nightmare. I am locked in a cage meant for our old dog.

The Next morning

I heard steps and my father walked in, dressed and chipper, ready for work. Then he looked at me with such disdain and disgust.

"You filthy sinful faggot. I spent my night in pain that I now only have one son and prayed that God will forgive me for spawning such evil into the world." I looked at him filled with all that anger, and did not recognize the man who had been my father. Yes, he was strict and seldom expressed love. But how could he be so heartless toward his own son?

"Dad" I started to say when he cut me off. "Don't you dare call me that. You are my bonded servant. You shall refer to me only as Master and my wife and real son as Madam and Sir. Don't you dare ever say anything else. And you shall only speak to us by saying 'Yes Master, yes Madam and yes Sir." He raised the taser threateningly as he saw me begin to beg.

I still felt the pain from yesterday when my father practiced using the taser on me, ignoring my screams as I lay writing on the ground. I even had grabbed his legs when he stopped, begging him, telling him I will be good. He just grinned perversely and raised the gun again.

I learned quickly to shut my mouth. So this morning, my goal was to be obedient. Just like our old dog.

"Now that you are my bonded servant" he continued, "you are no longer a student. I certainly will not pay to endorse your disgusting life, so I have notified the school that you have withdrawn. And I left a message for your girlfriend to tell her the truth about you. Instead, you will be my servant, cleaning and cooking and maintaining the yard. And since the least you can do for my not throwing your sorry ass on the street, I shall hire you out and earn our family some money."

I was mortified. What will Paula say to all my friends when she hears the message? What type of labor? My future going down the drain. My heart sank even further.

But I had no time to think. He banged on the cage to get my attention and, with that, he unlocked the cage and I painfully climbed out and began to stand.

"On your knees faggot until ordered otherwise. Only real men stand tall. And bow your head in submission until I tell you to stand and get to work." I followed his instructions, afraid of what he would do to me. How could this man be so cruel to his own flesh and blood? What type of hate filled his soul? From the corner of my eye, I saw my brother watching, his face filled with fear, tears streaming down his face. That gave me some consolation. At least he was safe.

I made coffee and breakfast for the family. And set the table for four. As my mother, father and brother sat down at the kitchen table, my father swept the fourth setting off the table. "Bonded servants are not fit to sit at the table with men. James, get the dog dish from the garage and place it on the floor near the sink."

James' eyes opened wide, but he silently retrieved the bowl and placed it on the floor. My mother looked pained but was silent. My father took my breakfast and poured it into the bowl, a mixed mess. "Eat your meal." I looked for a fork, but there was none. "You are nothing but a vile animal. Eat that slop just like a dog. Now!"

Again, he lazily raised the taser. I put my face into the disgusting mess and lapped the food. I felt as if my world had collapsed as tears dripped into the bowl. I am 20 years old and crying into a dog dish.

The morning passed as they all left. I was forbidden to use the internet so my mobile and computer were locked away. I showered, letting the hot water soak away my aching body and broken heart. At least I had my hand and fantasies of Paula. I wrapped my hand on my hardening thick dick as warm water washed over me, visions of Paula sucking my cock, me face fucking her, licking her pussy and then fucking her so hard she screamed. And then I let out a moan as my cum splattered the shower wall. Yes, at least I still had my dick, a straight man, at least in my head. Once the pleasure subsided, though, reality set in, panic and terror.

I had dinner ready and was kneeling on the carpet when the family came home. I welcomed them with the appropriate words of Master, Madam and Sir. Dinner went well although once again I ate disgusting mushed food on the floor like an animal. After cleaning the kitchen, I was locked again in the cage. When my mom and brother left the room, my former father reported his happy news. "I posted you as a faggot for rent willing to provide whatever services are necessary on a rather pricey daily rate. To my delight, I got a number of responses. Who knew that faggot maids would be so popular. You will start work tomorrow."

When the lights were out, my brother tiptoed down with a blanket and pillow. "Benjie, I am so, so sorry. Our father is a monster, but I am so afraid he will lock me up, too." The fear in his voice at least made me feel better. I was his big brother, protecting him once again. I slept, although the nightmares were still there. I am not a servant, I am a slave.

My first "job" as a bonded servant

At seven, my father unlocked the cage and I made everyone breakfast, greeting them on my knees as I had been ordered. Then, my father dressed me in my new work outfit: A black tee shirt with a pink collar and bow tie, the pink triangle on the black shirt, and a pair of tight fitting biking shorts. I guess no shoes for a bonded servant. I looked like the flaming gay man of his perverted mind.

He made me sit in the back of the car and muttered the whole way about how disgusting it was to look at me. We arrived at a rather nice home a few miles from our house and were welcomed at the door by a man about my father's age, slight paunch, a few inches shorter than me. My father immediately hit my legs and I dropped to the ground, head bowed.

I stayed that way while the two conversed, my former father explaining that I will obey all orders, work very hard, and stay silent unless spoken to. As he whispered to the man, I peeked up to see him hand over the taser. Terror struck, I wanted to flee. But the locator transmitter would track me no matter how fast I could run. My father left and the man ordered me inside.

Cleaning actually went easily as the house seemed tidy and well maintained. I made the man, whose name was Bruce, lunch and then started to clean up after he finished. Even though I was starving, I stayed silent. As I was washing dishes at the sink, I could sense Bruce come behind me even before he pressed against my back.

"So, my bonded servant faggot, I have some extra tasks for you" as he pushed me down and pressed my face to his crotch. In my panic, I yelled at him to stop, that I was not gay and in any case, gay sex is against the law. And I would report him to the police. He kicked me and I fell back. I saw the taser in his hand.

"Stupid faggot, who would believe you with your slutty outfit and pink triangle? I would just say you tried to assault me and instead of servicing me, you would be thrown in jail to get gang raped by the guards. Now shut up and suck my cock."

Defeated. He was right and, besides, he held the taser. My God, what has become of me, I am on my knees facing a guy's cock. I unzipped his pants. "Breathe in what a real man is like and lick." I stuck out my tongue and could feel his prick hardening. I licked his boxers as the imprint of his large cock was clear. He pushed my head into him and I had no choice. I lowered his boxers as his dick sprang out. "Suck it like the faggot you are."

His dick seemed so large even if smaller than mine. How could I get it in my mouth? Would I choke? I felt like I had to vomit. Frightened and tearing already, I opened my mouth and licked the precum off his tip. He moaned. My mouth was no longer virgin as his dick invaded my mouth.

I went deeper and began bobbing on the head on his cock, praying that this would be over soon, trying to let my mind shut down. He took my head in his hands and pushed. I gagged, choked, felt like I was suffocating, ready to puke. He pushed further. "Open your cocksucking throat, faggot, for a real man." And with that he skull fucked me. I slobbered and cried and thought I would pass out as he relentlessly fucked my throat.

I felt his cock swell and then pulse as he shot straight down my throat, one, two, three, four times. "Don't swallow it all and lick me clean." I obeyed of course, having no choice in the matter. "Display" he commanded. I had no idea what he meant. "Stick out your tongue and show me my cum." I stuck my tongue out glued with his sperm and then he commanded me to swallow.

Again, I thought I would puke but held back in fear. "What do you say, faggot." My pride gone, any sense of self entirely drained from me, I replied, "Thank you Sir for letting me suck your beautiful cock and feeding me your manly sperm." He seemed satisfied, petted my head as if I were a dog, and told me that I was a good boy.

My former father came at five to pick me up. The man paid him for my services. Little did my father know what services I had provided. I was filled with anger, ready to explode, as my father happily pocketed the money. But any courage I might have mustered failed me as Bruce handed back the taser. Just seeing the taser made me tremble.

We drove home with my dad chuckling, "A pretty good deal. I get rid of a disgusting faggot son and make good money instead. Good to know that you worthless piece of shit is good for something." I was seething, but he had his hand on the taser and, besides, what really could I do?

I served dinner and cleaned up like an emotional robot in silence, I felt nothing, except a raw throat, my mind gone blank. I crawled into my cage, shut my eyes as the key turned in the lock, and cried myself to sleep. I was broken. Alone in the world. It would be better if I were dead. I just wanted to die. Four months was eternity.