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    Lugh
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Forever Boy - 7. Chapter 7

I remember the car was going fast. There was a horn blare, the car jerked. There was a crash. Everything was fuzzy. Sirens blared, came and went… The car was moving again. I hurt so bad, but I couldn’t move. I could barely breathe. Something wasn’t right. The car stopped, it jerked. I screamed the pain was so bad. I just screamed and screamed and screamed until I passed out from the pain.

The trunk opened. “Holy shit!” He exclaimed. “Pete get over here, that caller was right there is a body in the trunk.”

Body in the trunk…. I was barely conscious. Ok, maybe I was not conscious but I can still hear them in my dreams. One of them touched me. I moaned. He screamed. Then someone was yelling. Another voice. “Don’t touch him!” A few minutes passed. Then another voice. More holy shits. More ‘is he alive?’s, then a noise: sirens in the distance getting closer.

“The cop is here with the camera.” I heard flashes. Then another voice. “Ok lets get him out of there.”

“Where are the bolt cutters?”

“Whatchya need cutters for?”

“He’s locked in.” Someone touched me. Another voice cursed. I felt something pull at my wrists. My Master had given me good padded leather restraints, they were cutting the locks. Leaving the restraints on my wrists and ankles. They cut the lock that restrained my collar then I was being rolled onto a board then lifted out. I wanted to sit up, but I couldn’t.

More pictures as one of them got the gag out of my mouth. My lips were dry and cracked around it.

“Master, water, please, Master.” I whispered. One of them put a container to my mouth. It wasn’t water, but I didn’t care I was so thirsty. I swallowed and swallowed and swallowed.

“He called you *Master*, Jimmy.”

“Hush, Pete, I heard what he said. He just asked for water.”

The ambulance ride was scarier in a way than riding in the trunk. At least when my Master took me out of the trunk I knew what was expected of me. I felt a needle in my arm; they told me I needed fluids. One of them covered me with a sheet. Then I was strapped in snug across my body. They kept asking me questions like: What’s your name? How old are you? What day is today? For all their questions, I had one answer… “Master, I don’t know, Master.”

The drive to the hospital was a short one. They took me in on the gurney to a room where there were lots of people. All of them wanted to ask me questions. I heard a woman say “Oh my God!” when they pulled the sheet back. Was I that horrible to look at?

One of the voices took charge. “My name is Dr. Jonias, and I’ll be treating you today.” He spoke to someone else then, “Unbuckle the restraints, don’t cut them.” Hands touched my wrists and ankles, and my head. As they took away the restraints my Master had put on me I felt naked, although I hadn’t worn clothes since I came to be his, I had worn them.

Dr. Jonias told me I would be ok. “Whats your name, son?”

“Master called me boy.” My eyes were firmly closed; I didn’t want to open them. Master had always told me to keep them closed when the hood was off. He touched my cheek, gently and told me it was all right with Master if I told him my name. My name? How long had it been since I heard my name? I thought back and remembered… Darby Finn Thanasis. But I didn’t tell him, not yet. The thought was too new, too precious, too fragile to be trusted with any one yet. My arm felt so cold where they had put the needle, now it burned. Something to help me relax he said. One told me they were going to put a catheter in. I felt a touch on my cock, the tube snaking up and into my body, the little balloon swelling, my bladder emptying. One of the people noticed I had not minded the catheter. She asked if I had one before. I told her I had… more than one. I failed to add that sometimes my Master filled my bladder with fluids using the catheter or that sometimes he did not allow me to relieve myself by keeping the tube clamped until I pleased him in some manner or that I could insert the tubing myself, and had, to please my Master.

The police came in at some point. They wanted to ask me questions. I answered them the best I could, although they were not very pleased with my responses. Most were I don’t know or I can’t remember or I never saw him. The doctor and the police spoke outside my door. After so much time learning to anticipate my Master, listening for his step. Knowing where he was in a room with out being able to see… This was easy. I heard most of what they said. The driver, my new Master, had been killed. His family had been notified and questioned about his *lifestyle* none knew about me. He was a public figure and knowledge about me would harm his memory. They decided to keep it as quiet as possible.

My heart sank… My Master was dead. I wept.

Sometime either in the night or the early part of the morning a man came in my room. He didn’t speak, but stood near the door. I didn’t look. I didn’t need to. Master had come. He walked over to the bed and pulled up a chair, then sat.

“I understand you are a boy with out a Master.”

“Master?” I was confused. The drugs made me fuzzy, but his smell, his voice… This was my Master.

“Dr. Jonias asked me to speak one of his patients… But I never imagined it would be you.” He reached over and stroked my face. I turned my face to his hand and kissed his palm. “I have a new boy now, he said you and he were friends.”

“Yes, Master.” I kept my eyes closed; so much training was impossible to break all at once.

“What is your name?”

“Master calls me boy, Master.” He reached down and twisted my nipple.

“Answer the question.”

“Master, my name is Darby Finn Thanasis, but boy suits me, Master.”

“Darby is a fine name. Boy is for slaves. You are free Darby. Look at me.”

“Master, I do not want to be free, I want to be yours. I am yours, Master.” My eyes remained firmly shut.

“Look at me Darby.” He stated again, his voice softer, huskier. I opened my eyes and looked at my Master for the first time since that day on the beach. He was breathtakingly handsome. “Good boy.” He kissed me.

“Master, I don’t understand, Master.”

“You will Darby. Trust me.” I nodded I did trust him. I had trusted him with my life. He began to fill in dates and other information on the paperwork. Over the next few days, Master came to see me often. Once he brought his new boy with him. I noticed he was not hooded. “He is family, Darby and we know he will not speak. He says you are his brother in spirit, which makes you family as well. Father has decided it should be so.” I learned Master’s name was Padric Fitzgerald and my brother’s name was Pedr.

Nearly a week had gone by since I had been rescued. Nearly a week of wondering about if they could locate my family. Then it was over. My parents entered my hospital room. I’m not sure what they had been told, but my Mother cried. I was wearing a hospital gown that hid most everything that might offend my mother. She called me *my baby*, and cradled me to her breast. I pulled back. That was too intimate of contact for me. Dr. Fitzgerald was there to help me and them readjust to each other. He explained to them, in front of me, that no one could be sure of exactly what happened while I was *away* from them. That I was not the same boy they had lost, and that most likely I would have a hard time readjusting to my former life. Dr. Fitzgerald gave me his card; on the back was his home address and phone number. He told me to call if I ever needed to talk. I told him I would. I went home with my parents.

It’s hard for me to explain how out of sorts I felt sitting in my bedroom. I had left it a boy and returned to it a *boy*. My parents left it exactly the same right down to the clothes. The hospital had provided a pair of sweats for me to go home in. My Master had provided my underwear. He also put my restraints and hood and a few other things that he felt I should have in the bag for me to bring home.

I sat on my bed in the underwear and held my hood. I had worn it so long I felt naked with out it. Nearly seven years. The doctors told me I would probably never have body hair. The man who captured me had done something to my skin to kill my hair follicles. They also told me I was sterile, another gift from my Master. “Forever boy” I had been called… Now I knew why.

My mother knocked on the door, and then walked in. My cousins were coming for a visit they wanted to see me. She gasped when she saw my bare chest and the nipple rings. I had worn them so long they were a part of me. She started crying then talking about my deformities. I didn’t feel *deformed*. I still had hair on my head, and eyebrows, it had been clipped short not too long before the accident. Now it was about an inch all over my head, I felt like it needed cut again. I had a small tattoo on my neck nearly behind my ear: Alpha-psi-xi. On my left shoulder blade I had a small dragon in flight. There were Celtic designs on each bicep, and around the base of my cock. On one hip was an eagle in an attack dive.

I just looked at her. There was no way she could understand. My Master had loved me. The decorations on my body were proof. Every time he had been extremely pleased, I received another marking. Summer was nearly on us. My father had given me several pair of loose fitting drawstring shorts to wear and a handful of t-shirts. My cousins would be taking me shopping. Shopping… I didn’t even want to think about it.

My cousins showed up early the next day. My mother gave them money and plastic cards. I had on the sunglasses my Master gave me, a t-shirt and a pair of shorts. The shoes I had were very tight. Davis looked at me and smiled.

He was still much taller than I was and more muscular. His brother, Gavin was bigger still. They would be twenty and twenty-two now. They told me they were sorry for teasing me that day on the beach. Most everyone thought I had drowned, except some people had seen me heading home. They didn’t ask about my life, but they told me about theirs. Both were in college. I hadn’t attended school since that day. I felt strange with them, although they were trying to make it seem as if everything was normal.

We shopped. I got several outfits and my cousins got to see some of my tats and my nipple rings. Gavin needed to pick up something…at a specialty club. Davis and I went with him, Gavin and Davis showed ID was let in. I had no ID, but the doorman looked at me and smiled. He let me in. I was dumbfounded. I had no ID… Gavin was sure I would not be allowed in because of it. No one under eighteen admitted. Little did Gavin know about the world he had entered. I had been allowed in because I was a marked slave. There was a *store* in the back. Gavin was making his purchase when I entered. Davis was looking at the posters when one caught my eye. I asked him to back it up… And there it was. It said *All American Boy* across the top with a boy in a hood and an American flag sticking out of his cock. I trembled. Davis looked at it then turned on me. “It’s just some dumbfuck model dressed up in leather, look he even has some of the same tats as you.”

The guy behind the counter then told Davis all the pics were of real boys and their Masters or at their Master’s order. I nodded. Then he went on to say that particular picture was from a group called the Brotherhood from up the coast. They were well known in certain circles. He then told my cousin that the image he was looking at was of one particular slave-boy called “Forever”. I blushed.

My cousin asked why was he called Forever, that it was such a strange name. He responded by saying some slaves were named some were not. I asked if I could have a print of that one. My cousin asked me if I was *crazy* or *into guys*, I shrugged and told him he wouldn’t understand.

“I would like it delivered to someone, can that be arranged?” The salesman nodded and my cousin paid for it. I blushed and asked for a pen. I signed the bottom of the print, Forever Yours, Darby. Then we rolled it and put it in a tube and I wrote Dr. Padric FitzGerald on the address label along with the address he gave me. My handwriting looked like a little boys, but why shouldn’t it?

The salesman continued… “Forever is a rather popular subject, part of his life was chronicled in a book called Forever Yours, Forever Boy.” He placed a copy on the counter and I looked through it. There were pictures of me. In each, I wore the hood, but everything else was exposed. There were spreads of me getting the tats, the piercing, punishments, and rewards. I was shaking. The salesman took the book back and apologized for upsetting me.

My cousins were looking at me strangely. “Darby, you ok?” Davis asked. I nodded and looked down, automatically going on display. The salesman stared at me, “How old are you anyway?” He asked me.

“Ma…” I stopped myself… “Seventeen.”

He told my cousins they could wait for me outside, he needed to speak to the doorman over how I got in. The doorman came in and looked at me. He grinned at the salesman. “Do you not recognize him?”

The sales guy shook his head.

“He is a Brotherhood slave. Where is your Master, boy?”

“Master is dead, in a car crash, the hospital sent me home.”

“Has the Brotherhood been in contact with you?”

I nodded.

“Will you be returning to them?”

“Master has requested I decide. My Brother wants me back.”

“Your Brother?” He looked at me again, then picked up the book… “Take off your shirt.”

I complied.

“Forever?”

I looked up and smiled.

The door guard typed a few things into the computer, and then he told me to stand. “You have an account here if you choose to access it. We serve like a bank for some of the freed slaves of the Brotherhood. The money is legit, but how could underage boys explain to their families you know?”

I nodded. He took a card out of a drawer and ran it through a machine, then handed it to me. “This is a debit card, you can use it like cash. If ever I’m not on the door and you need to get in, all you have to show is the tat.” He pointed to the one on my neck. “You can wear your hood in here if it makes you feel safer. Many of the boys do.” He handed me the book. “Take it.” I smiled at him and left to go back to my cousins, stopping only long enough to put my shirt back on.

Things might just be all right after all.

Copyright © 2010 Lugh; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Chapter Comments

Dark and beautiful this was as an awesome coming-of-age story as a slave.

The ending is bitter sweet and lovely giving us the impression the boy will "come into his own" in time.

Thank you for this emotional roller coaster story.

Edited by Ricky_writer
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I read this story and it has really stuck with me. I think it is due to the fact that I have 3 children within the same age range as the young man was when he was taken and this is a parent’s worst nightmare. (Yes, the odds of them being kidnapped are extremely low but still. *shudder*) Having it from the viewpoint of the child made it hauntingly, poignantly disturbing. 
 
It is human nature to want a HEA ending and this story leaves you knowing that that means vastly different things for different people.
 
Well written. Now, if only I could forget every reading it...lol...
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