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Larry
Original story concept by "Anon". Edited by Paolo.
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I could hear them scuffling and arguing in the hallway as I sat down at my desk with a fresh cup of coffee. Pretty soon there was a quick knock at my door and it swung open to reveal two shabbily clad persons – a woman and a child. The child was so pretty that I thought at first it was a girl.
The woman snarled, “Shut up, Larry, and get in there,” as she cuffed him hard enough across the ear to knock him to the floor.
“But, Momma…,” he protested as I got up and came around my desk.
The woman looked at me and started, “Are you Simon White…?”
“Simon White, licensed slave broker, at your service.” And I bowed my head slightly toward her.
“He turned ten today. How much will you give me for him?” She came right out and asked, removing all doubt at once. The boy cowered on the floor as she nudged him with her foot.
“Well, first I’ll need to ask you some questions, then I’ll need to look him over. Only then can I give you a fair price.”
Since the abolition of all government welfare in 2008, there had been a reinstitution of slavery and bonded servitude to take its place by 2012. The law allowed any adult to sell himself or herself, or any parent to sell a child over the age of 10. I’d been doing a fine business in buying and selling children from destitute or drug-dependent parents ever since. While the lower age limit for selling a child was 10, there were plenty of ways to get around the law. Usually by arranging an “adoption” of a younger child to someone who could use him or her until he or she turned 10, and then, as the “parent”, sell the child to someone else. I’d arranged cash “adoptions” for kids as young as five and six – and sold them again when they turned ten, making double the profit.
I helped the boy to his feet and propelled him to a chair in the corner of the office. “Sit here until I’m ready for you,” I said as I handed him a small video game to play with while I made arrangements with his mother. He looked like he was ready to bolt for the door, but instead he huddled back into the chair, clutching the game without even glancing at it.
I pointed the mother to a comfortable chair opposite my desk and sat down while she arranged herself. From her sunken eyes and the track-marks down her arms, I could guess where she’d use the money that would come from selling the boy. She had a hungry look that told me she’d take almost anything that would get her a fix immediately. I decided to stall for time to get her anxiety up. While there were plenty of other slave brokers in the city, the nearest one was a long way away.
I knew I’d have a hard time focusing on her, and not the boy. Even at a glance, it was clear that he was a very pretty child. He’d even make a beautiful little girl with his chocolate-colored complexion, braided black hair, and piercing eyes. I knew I’d get a good price for him once he was readied for sale. I hoped the mother didn’t realize what a treasure she had. I guessed, too, that the longer I could keep her in the office, the lower his price would go.
“O.K., let’s start with introductions. You already know I’m Simon White. I didn’t catch your name.”
“Martha. Martha Jones,” she responded. “We live in the Projects down the way.”
The Projects were the main reason I’d rented this office. There were always addicts looking for any way to raise the price of a fix. I’d picked up some nice kids at a fraction of what they were worth.
“Good to meet you. Let’s get right to the business at hand. Do you have all of the boy’s papers?”
She opened one of the scruffiest looking purses I’ve ever seen and pulled out a wad of papers. “It’s all here. ID card, school records, health certificate. I took him to the clinic just a couple days ago for the health certificate.” She handed them over to me. I knew she couldn’t take the boy anywhere else so long as I had hold of them.
”So, how’d you pay for it?” I asked pointedly. She didn’t reply. I picked up the ID card, “Yup, today is his tenth birthday all right. But, the card says his name is ‘Larry Brown’. You said your name was ‘Martha Jones’.”
“Yeah, his daddy was named Leon Brown.”
I smiled inwardly. Leon Brown had certainly gotten around the Projects. In the past month, I’d bought both a boy and a girl that he’d fathered in the Projects. Both were fairly pretty, but not so pretty as this boy. I’d even looked ol’ Leon up and found that he’d been shot and killed during a bank robbery about seven years ago. I wondered how many more of his kids I’d be buying from the Projects over the next three or four years.
I smiled at the mother, “You’re an attractive woman. I bet you were the prettiest girl in the Projects when you met him.”
She smiled for the first time. Flattery, it seemed, would get me somewhere. “Yeah, that’s what Leon always said. But, he must have been saying that to a dozen girls. I was 14 and he was 16. By the time I was swelled up with Larry, half the girls I knew were having his babies. I bet there’re thirty or forty of his kids running around the Project.”
I figured if I was lucky, I’d be getting ten or fifteen, and maybe even more, of them to sell. If they looked anything like the three I’d seen so far, I knew I’d do well. “Do you have any more kids by Leon?” I asked.
“Yeah, Danny. He’s eight, but he’ll be nine next month.”
“Well, if you’re interested in selling him when he reaches ten, you can bring him in for me to look at sometime soon. We might even be able to sign the papers and I could give you a down payment on him. I might even be able to find someone who wants to adopt him and would pay you to be able to take him off your hands.” If he was as attractive as his older brother, I might be the one to “adopt” him. He’d be ready for sale in a year.
“Yeah, that might be a good idea. I’ve got seven kids. How many do you think you’ll want?”
“If they’ve got your looks, I’d probably be willing to take all of them when they turn ten. If you bring ‘em all in for me to inspect, maybe we can do the paperwork and set up a payment plan so that I pay you so much a month and you just deliver each kid on his tenth birthday.”
“Yeah, maybe I’ll do that.”
I marveled at the social disintegration that had gone on in the Projects since the end of Welfare and the explosion of drug addiction. I could see the mother planning what she could do with a little more drug money. At least ten year olds were almost always clean. When someone brought in a twelve year old, I always had to worry about drugs. After all, getting them detoxed and healthy again for resale was never pretty.
I picked up the health report. “It looks like Larry has a clean bill of health. Dr. Scott even wrote that he seemed especially sturdy and healthy for a boy his age. That’s certainly a good sign, if not a miraculous one.” Again, no reaction to my slander of her parenting skills.
Dr. Scott also did some private work and I often called on her for minor procedures on the kids I bought. Just a couple of weeks ago a couple brought in their fifteen year old who was running out of control. He was getting violent and they were so afraid of him that they decided to sell him. They got some neighbors together to drag him in and hold him while I got handcuffs and leg irons on him to hold him while we negotiated. I didn’t give them very much for him, but they were happy to be rid of him. I called Virginia Scott and she came straight over and castrated him right here in my office to start calming him down.
I was glad I had the sturdiest set of irons I could buy in the office. Even in irons and with four men to help hold him down, he was screaming and struggling until both his balls were off. Somehow I don’t think the use of any anesthetic would have helped, either. If nothing else, it taught him a lesson. I sold him to a farmer who could use some physical labor during the day and keep him locked up at night. I barely turned a profit on him, but I was happy to have him out of the neighborhood.
Finally, I picked up the boy’s school records. “Larry has certainly been doing well in school. His teacher writes that he’s the top student in the fourth grade. Usually kids who know they’re going to be sold stop studying. Most of them that I get have very poor reports.”
“Well, that’s because Larry didn’t know I was going to sell him until this morning. He may have suspected it, but he didn’t know until we got to your door. He thought I was taking him for an eye exam.”
“Dr. Scott checked his eyes. She didn’t find a problem. He certainly doesn’t need glasses.”
“Yeah, but he didn’t know that.” I glanced at the boy and he pulled even further back into the chair, a look of stunned disbelief on his face.
“O.K., everything seems to be in order here. If there’s no father who needs to sign off on the papers, all I need is for you to sign when we agree on a price. We can even get everything else filled out right now, except for the price and your signature.”
I looked over at the boy. He didn’t seem to have moved since I put him in the chair. He was still curled in the chair clutching the video game tightly in his hands. He’d clearly been listening closely, though, to our every word.
I started asking the mother all of the questions that needed to be filled in on the bill of sale. I made sure to draw out as many details as I could, delaying her and giving her more of a vested interest in completing the transaction. The longer it took, the less likely that she’d want to start over again somewhere else. I even asked a lot of questions that weren’t needed, just to keep it going longer. I kept glancing at the boy, who seemed to be making himself as small as possible and wishing that he were invisible. Finally, I could think of no more questions to ask.
“O.K. Larry. I need to take a look at you. Come on over here.”
He slowly got up, and trembling, walked toward the desk still clutching the game. Fully clothed, he was one of the prettiest boys I’d ever seen.
“You’ll need to take off your clothes so I can examine you. Strip down to your under shorts. Just put everything in the basket there. Don’t make it any harder, boy.”
Slowly he began undressing. His beauty nearly took my breath away. He was even more beautiful without his clothes.
Finally, he finished and turned toward me. “Come here. Let me get a good look at you.”
He slowly approached me as I sat at my desk. “Come on around the desk.”
When he got close he dropped his gaze to the floor at my feet. I reached out and lifted his chin so that I could look straight into his eyes. They were a deep brown that looked perfect with his unblemished chocolate complexion. His nose was symmetrical and a bit narrower than most of the Black children I bought. His lips were narrow and perfect.
“O.K. Open your mouth so I can look at your teeth.” Again, they were perfectly formed and symmetrical. I pulled him closer and inspected them for problems. It didn’t look like he’d ever even had a cavity. It was unbelievable luck. This was sure to be a high-ticket boy.
I ran my hands up and down his arms and legs and over his chest and back. Even though I had Dr. Scott’s report, I pulled out my stethoscope and listened to his chest. After I had him run in place I listened again. He was maybe the most perfect boy I’d yet seen.
“Stand right there and look straight ahead.” I took both hands and gently pulled down his underpants. He trembled as I did so.
His little penis was perfectly straight with a tight foreskin that just nicely covered the tip. It was clearly that of a little boy and hadn’t begun to grow at all. His scrotum, though, had begun to enlarge and his testicles showed that he was right at the beginning of puberty.
I reached under and gently grasped both of his balls with my fingertips. He shuddered.
“Are you gonna cut my nuts off?” He squeaked.
“Where did you hear that at?” I asked curiously, just to see what he’d say.
“I hear boys who get sold get their nuts cut off,” Larry replied dismally, looking away.
“Not right away, but I probably will soon. It’s hard to sell a boy who still has his balls. I’ve managed to sell a couple of blonde, blue-eyed boys who still had their nuts, but I’ve had to cut them off every Black boy who’s come through here.” Larry began to cry.
“Don’t worry, Larry. I always use Dr. Scott. You know how kind and gentle she is. It won’t hurt a bit when she cuts them off,” I lied. “There’ve been a lot of boys sold from the projects. I’m sure you’ve known many of them. Some from your own fourth grade class. Maybe even some of your friends. They’ve all had their balls cut off. Some of them right here in this office.”
“Are you sure it won’t hurt?” his mother asked. I had almost forgotten that she was there, I was so mesmerized by Larry’s beauty.
“No, Dr. Scott is very good. And when they’re as small as Larry’s, he won’t even much think about their being gone after a couple of months. I’ve had enough boys go through here to know that most of them don’t miss them at all,” I lied again. There was no sense in tipping the boy off. Depression and the like that usually hit boys of any age after castration was one factor in keeping the market going – the more of them that got depressed and committed suicide, the more demand was insured.
“Once we’ve got everything settled, I’ll call Dr. Scott’s office so we can set up an appointment when she can come over here to remove them. It probably won’t be until tomorrow or the next day.”
“Let’s be talkin’ price,” Martha finally asked, pushing her naked son aside.
She left with a payment and a contract that night.
Larry stayed. Being overcome by a brief bout of sympathy, my refrigerator suffered for it, too.
I was feeling Larry’s little balls again and thinking about helping to remove them when Dr. Scott came the next day. Perhaps it was the photo I sent her that got her there so quickly. I let go and took a couple of tissues from the box on my desk and handed them to Larry, who’d started to cry at the sight of her. “Here. Dry your eyes. There’s no use crying about it. You get to keep them for a few more hours. But, you know that they’ll have to come off soon. You won’t be the first boy or the last boy whose balls Dr. Scott cuts off.”
He cried anyway. I didn’t really blame him.
“In a month or two you won’t even miss having them. It’ll just seem natural that you don’t have balls. I know a nice family with a couple of young daughters that needs a houseboy. They’ll take good care of you and you’ll get to play with the girls all the time. Without any balls you’ll be completely safe around them. In fact, you’ll probably do as much playing as housework. You’ll probably like it a lot more than life in the Projects. And some of their friends have houseboys who don’t have balls, either. You’ll make friends with them, too. You wait, it won’t be so bad.”
I don’t think Larry believed me. I know I wouldn’t have believed me if I’d been the one listening.
I thought of Sybil and Michelle. My daughter’s birthday would be in two weeks, and, as soon as he healed, Larry would be a perfect birthday present. I smiled at the picture of a handsome young Black eunuch attending my pretty blonde granddaughters. He’d probably look good with a gold collar and some earrings. Gold would go so well with his flesh tone. Perhaps even a tight circumcision, if not a thick Prince Albert piercing in his useless little penis. Of course, Dr. Scott could easily remove that too, but I wasn’t sure…after all, I’d have to leave that one up to my daughter…
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