You don't even remember the home or family from which you were taken when you were a little boy. All you have known these past 13 years has been a life of structure and regimen, getting you ready and to be sold for the highest price possible. Now you are 15, and it is time to see how high of a price you will fetch and what kind of master or mistress you will have.
You sit nervously in your cage, dressed only in a loincloth. For the past few hours, you have been told to stand, kneel, lay down, bend over, take your loincloth off, put it back on, and any number of other commands by any number of total strangers. Of course, you have to comply, and of course, you have to submit as they reached in and touched you wherever they wanted. You are, after all, merely a specimen of livestock that is being evaluated for sale; it's not like your feelings or dignity matter in the least.
Your handlers have cared for you reasonably well, which is natural. There's no profit to be gained from a dead or diseased boy. You have been fed properly, made to exercise, and you have been properly groomed all this time. You know all too well that there's no guarantee that your next owner will treat you well at all. That's all part of the risk that you take, and it's part of life when you have been identified as a slave.
A man in a business suit comes by, along with your owner. He was here earlier, and he checked you out thoroughly, even probing inside your mouth with his fingers, making sure you weren't hiding any oral disease. You hear him talking to your owner about you.
"You realize if I buy him, I'm taking a big risk. You have no idea how he can perform for the demands of my clients. I want some kind of warranty."
Your owner scoffs. "Warranty? Since when do we offer warranties on 15-year old boys? If he doesn't do what you want him to do, then MAKE him do it. If you want a slave who is more experienced, go down the street to the Used Slaves section."
The man appraises you once again. Without asking your permission -- and why would he? -- he reaches into your loincloth and grabs your penis, pulling it out as far as it would go. It is uncomfortable, but you have learned not to object or make any noise; that would be viewed as disrespectful, and it would lower the price you could bring.
The man evaluates you some more. "He's only five inches, stretched out."
Your owner responds, "Yes, but his best years of growing are upon him now. He has grown two inches taller this summer alone. And look at how his balls are filling out! He will get longer, you can be sure."
The men haggle back and forth for what seems to be forever. Finally, agreeing upon a price, they shake hands and depart to sign papers. In a few moments, you are removed from the cage and taken to Processing for your obligatory shower before you are handed off to your new owner.
But who is your new owner? The man referred to his clients, so he isn't your owner. He just bought you for someone else. You wonder who it is going to be."
After about a 30-minute wait, the buyer comes to retrieve you. Unlike many newly-bought slaves, you don't receive a new set of clothes. You are still in a loincloth, although a cleaner one. The man attaches a remote-controlled shock collar to your neck, and directs you to follow him.
Soon, you are on your way to the next chapter of your life. But who will be your master?
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