Jon's Story 1: The Interview.

Jon was a lonely, bored and gay eighteen year old boy. He was living in a cold, damp flat and had a boring job, mainly stacking shelves in a supermarket. He was very unhappy and had even contemplated suicide on more than one occasion.

He had been a very popular and happy child, who played in school teams and did well at school. Life started to turn sour in his early teens, because his parent's marriage broke up, and because he realised that he was gay.

The trouble started when he was about twelve; his father was 'working late' more and more. His mother employed a private detective, and after a few weeks gave her a report, which said that he had a mistress and had set her up in a flat. A series of blazing rows followed, and Jon often stayed the night in friends' houses. The divorce followed, and Jon was left with his mother. (His older brother went off to college and escaped the family.) A couple of stable years followed, but then his mother remarried. Jon despised the stepfather from the start, and rows became common. Violence was not rare, and so Jon would retreat into his room.

Jon's school work suffered, but he did get good GCSEs . He carried on with 'A' levels, but life was getting harder, he missed more and more school, but was able to scrape through the exams with low grades. In the end, he chose not to go to college; anyway, his hateful stepfather told him that he would not finance him for a university course.

He left home after final and violent row with his stepfather. Jon had found some gay sites on the internet, and his stepfather caught him. He threatened to beat Jon up and he didn't want a 'dirty little shirt lifter' in his house. Jon feared for his life, and so his mother fixed up a small flat for him in a different part of the city, and told him to stand on his own two feet. She made it clear to him that as he was gay they didn't want to see him again . He found a job in a local supermarket - mainly stacking shelves - and tried to save money 'to travel'. He had a vague idea of going to a warmer country where his gayness would be accepted. In the last months since his eighteenth birthday life had became very drab and he had even contemplated suicide.

He had tried gay pubs and clubs and been chatted up by middle aged men, but had taken fright and escaped. He had also spent much time on the internet and explored Sand M web sites. He had always been interested in slavery and became quite an expert in his classical civilisation course. Sometimes he dreamt that he was a young slave in the Roman Empire; perhaps a young barbarian captured, bound and auctioned to the highest bidder. He would often look at his body in a mirror and tie string round his neck and balls and fantasise about his enslavement. The very idea of standing naked and shackled and to be examined by slave traders and their agents excited him and gave him a hard. Then late one night, and quite by chance he found a contact also interested in slavery. E mails were exchanged, and he was told that there were men who would take youths such as himself and enslave them. This information alone was enough to hardened his prickle, and he replied immediately saying that he would like to learn more. The next day at work, he couldn't stop thinking about the message, and when he got home, he rushed back to his computer, and sure enough there was another e mail from the contact.

In the few hours the contact told him more about slavery, but warned him to be very discreet. He was told that boys like himself could submit themselves to a slave trader, who would usually castrate them and get them sold and shipped abroad to be a house servant of some very rich man. They completely disappeared from society and would no longer exist as human beings. The contact asked a few details about Jon.

If the boy was interested in being a slave, an interview could be arranged and he could decide whether to go ahead himself.

He e mailed back to the contact that he would be interested in such a meeting and was interested in becoming a slave. A few days later a strangely worded e mail came back suggesting an 'interview' in which his suitability for slavery would be examined. Jon thought carefully, and realised that he had little to loose, and so agreed. He was to meet at a suburban station at 6-00pm the next evening, but tell no one of the meetin. In spite of the fact it was late autumn, he was instructed to wear a white tee shirt, jeans, white trainers, a gold slave chain round his neck and a large label with his name printed on over his right tit. He should wait outside the main entrance. He got to the station at 5-55pm, found the spot and waited. He nearly panicked twice as commuters eyed him up. After ten minutes, he felt his shoulder being firmly grasped and a voice said ' Jon, come with me'. He didn't see the face, but followed the man. They got into a taxi and it seemed to go through many depressing streets. Eventually it stopped, they got out and Jon was led to a derelict looking house. They went through a small door, and Jon followed the man through it and down a shabby passage.

He was shown into a small room, equally shabby. After a few minutes, the man came back and said ' the Master will see you now.' Jon was already very nervous and could feel his heart beating wildly. He followed the man into an office, into the presence of a large and prosperous looking man.

Jon stood in front of him with his hands behind his back and the man eyed him up and down. Jon was embarrassed, and could feel his face getting redder and redder. To make matters worse, the other man stood behind him; he could feel the eyes appreciating his bottom.

"So, boy, you are interested in slavery"

"Yes, Sir"

"Why?"

" I am gay, and I have always been interested in the idea of being a slave boy. I dream about being bought and sold"

He stumbled over the words and all the time felt the master's eyes drilling into him. He was going to pieces in this man's presence and couldn't do much about it.

"Well boy, you have come to the right place, you see, I am a slave trader.

Jon was fascinated.

"What, you do take boys like me and enslave them?"

"Yes. What job do you have?"

"I fill supermarket shelves."

"Are you happy in life?"

"No - frankly it is so miserable that I nearly killed myself last month."

He had set up a noose in his room,with the idea of hanging himself, but didn't have the courage to go through with it.

" That would have been a shame for a pretty boy like you. If I were to take you on, I would have you castrated and then sell you."

Jon's heart leapt and he once more reddened. This was one of his favourite fantasies.

"Do you know what castration means?"

"Yes, Sir . The slave's testicles are removed and this makes him more passive and less likely to grow body hair.".

"And increases the value greatly. How old are you, boy?"

"I am eighteen years and five months."

" Have you any close relations? What about your parents?"

"My parents are divorced and remarried, My stepfather threw me out of the house. I don't speak to my older brother; he knows I am gay, and says that he finds it disgusting. So really I am alone."

"In other words, if you disappeared, no one would notice."

"My stepfather and my brother would probably be very pleased if they found out!"

The trader smiled to himself, and made a few notes. Another silence emerged, and Jon wondered if he had gone too far in letting it be known that he was completely alone. His legs felt rooted to the ground, and anyway, it would be silly to walk out now.

He looked the boy over and said

"Are you certain that you want to be a slave?"

"Yes sir."

"Then I need to inspect your body to see if it would be suitable for any of my clients. Remove your clothes!"

Jon was taken aback, but quickly pulled his tee shirt over his shoulders exposing his well proportioned torso. He felt the eyes searing into him, but for the first time, felt quite confident In spite of what his stepfather had said, he was a good looking youth, and this man was appreciating his body.

"And the rest"

This brought back the panic, as he felt his little penis was coming into an erection. He kicked off his shoes, pulled off his jeans, leaving a tight fitting pair of briefs. He paused, but the Master said "Drop your briefs".

He did and this displayed his small hardening cock. Confidence once more returned. He was nervous, apprehensive, but was enjoying being displayed in front of these two men.

"Very nice", the Master said "Walk towards me".

"Now, turn round, I want to see your little butt"

The trader got up, and started to prod Jon's buttocks, and then tweaked his nipples. He also squeezed his arms and thighs, giving approving noises as he continued the inspection.

"Jump up on to the table and lie on your back"

Jon did, and felt the cold, rough wood on his back.

The Master fondled his now fully hardened prickle, and smiled to himself. He slipped his cold hands around the testicles, and grunted approvingly.

"Turn over on to your belly; I need to inspect you butt."

Jon did so, and the trader pulled the buttocks apart and ran his fingers round the boy's hole.

"Very nice," the Master said, " Are you a virgin? "

"Yes, Sir"

"You have never been screwed then."

"No."

The Trader slapped Jon's buttock and again made an approving grunt.

"Turn over !"

Jon did and the trader ran his fingers around the youth's face.

"Do you shave yet?"

"Just around here and here," he said pointing to his upper lip and the side of his jaws.

The trader opened his mouth and examined the teeth.

"Yes, you are a good looking boy who would sell well. Some of my clients will be very interested."

He stood back and surveyed the boy lying on the table.

"You are well spoken. I assume you have qualifications."

"My GCSEs were good, but my 'A' levels are all low grades."

"Now boy, if you become a slave, you will loose all rights and freedom: do you want to carry on, or do you want to walk out of this room and forget this meeting ever took place?"

"Sir, I would like to carry on and be a slave".

"We need some photographs; get off the table and stand still with your head and eyes slightly down and with your hands behind your back"

The assistant took three photos; one full frontal, one from behind and one of the youth's face.

"Good boy, you are well suited to enslavement. Now, what is your financial situation, and when can you wind up your affairs?"

"I have just paid off my overdraft . I can leave my job on a week's notice.

"Where do you live?"

"Alone in a crummy bedsit"

"Where?

"6a Lonsdale Terrace, Crapham "

"Rent?"

"Paid a month in advance"

"You can close your account and wind up your affairs in a few days. If you decide to submit to me, you will report to this address, dressed in the clothes you were wearing tonight. If you have a passport, and any other certificates, you can bring them with you. You must not tell anyone about this; just make up a story about moving to the North."

He handed Jon a card with an address and phone number.

"When you report to this address, you must give them the card."

"Get dressed and sign this document", he waved a legal looking paper in front of Jon.

Jon quickly pulled his clothes on approached the desk, signed the document and stepped back.

"Please Sir, what will happen after I go to the address?"

"We will contact you .The owner is a friend who will look after you. After a day or two, you will be transferred to my warehouse. You will then be castrated and after a week or so you will be auctioned off. Remember that once you decide to submit to me, there is no going back. You will not escape. Whatever happens, you must tell no one of this meeting or of your decision. Do you understand, Jon?"

"Yes!"

The assistant grasped Jon by the shoulder and led him to a taxi and another journey to a different station on a different line.

"Remember, slave - obey instructions and don't ask questions. You will be watched."

He thwacked Jon's butt and pressed a £10-00 note into the youth's hand and walked away.

Jon was alone in a strange part of the city, with a long journey ahead of him. He looked at the station clock; it was 7-20pm. His life had changed forever and the interview had lasted for less than an hour.